2,4,6,8 Motorway......

If someone told me 4 months ago I would be on a 9 hour bus journey thru the mountains of Colombia before the end of the year I would have laughed in there face.The mileage is only 300 miles  but the route is so mountainous that it takes longer.I had planned to fly if I went anywhere in Colombia but after speaking to many people everyone had said it was safe.Sure there are still parts of the country which are no go zones but you had to be unlucky to get attacked on this route.I started reading Alan sugars autobiography in between listening to Spanish lessons on my ipod.Some of the scenery was breathtaking although I tried not to look as the coach got very close to the side of the mountain.One wrong move from the driver and we were all heading down the mountain. After 7 hours we stopped at a little roadside restaurant.I got out and walked about to stretch my legs.This was rural Colombia.I sat down and the old Colombian guy who came to serve me looked like he was 105 years old,although he still moved around pretty quick.A guy from the coach came and sat at my table.He was Israeli and to be honest he was the most arrogant person I had met on this trip.I don't know why he sat next to me but he introduced himself then he acted like he was doing me a favour.I tried to make conversation with him but he was hard work so I blanked him.There was no menu but I ordered some fish like the guy on the next table.I figured it would be cheap and fresh.How wrong I was.It was 20,000 pesos (£6) which is nothing at home but out here it was.It was a lot more than I was paying in Bogota.I guess motorway service stations are the same the world over.Expensive and the food wasn't great.We got back on the coach and I figured we must have only a few hours of the trip to go.How wrong I was again.3 hours later and we were still in the mountains and the light was fading.There was no explanation and I couldn't ask anyone.I just had to wait.We arrived in Medellin just before 10pm.It had taken 13 hours.I was planning to get the metro to the hostel but I couldn't be bothered so I decided to get a taxi.The arrogant Israeli asked to share a cab into the city as he was going to a hostel nearby.At least he wasn't going to mine.It was a warm night as I got in the taxi.There wasn't much to take in on the taxi ride just main roads but no city sights.It seemed more residential as we pulled up at the new hostel.I paid the driver 7000 pesos and said goodbye to the Israeli.I didn't have a reservation at the hostel,and I had only heard of this place from the German.It was called The Wandering Paisa, the word Paisa is the name given to the residents of Medellin.The hostel wasn't in my guidebook but he said it was friendly.I pressed the buzzer to get in and a young American guy let me in.He was friendly and I told him about my epic journey.He explained that there had been mud slides and the main road had been closed.Now I knew why it took so long.He told me to always add on a few hours to your journey time when travelling in Colombia anyway.The mud slide had  just made it worse.The yank was the owner of the hostel with his brother.He asked me how I had heard about the hostel.I told him about the German and he remembered him.The yank showed me round and I picked my room and bed.It was nearly midnight on a friday so most people were out and I wasnt in the mood to meet anyone now.I just wanted some sleep.
In the words of Tennessee Williams " Time is the longest distance between two places "