Saint Paul and the minibus


It was the mid-semester break, so we decided to have a couple of days away from the city. These kind of trips give me butterflies in my stomach: you’re not sure of where you’re going, where you’ll stay, nor how safe it’ll be.

We arrived at the bus terminal where buses and the like aggressively tout for travellers, trying to persuade you to buy a ticket to who knows where. We got a small bus for Guatapé (pronounced Guah-ta-pay) which soon filled up and then someone got on with 35 buckets. The area we headed for is renown for its lakes, granite monolith and the ex-home of that most infamous drug baron, Pablo Escobar.

After 2 hours we were the last people on the bus and arrived in a small town which was hot and deserted. Feeling somewhat conspicuous we walked to the main square, sat in a shaded restaurant and enlisted the waiter’s help. Things worked out really well and we soon got a quiet hotel room overlooking the waters.

The locals were welcoming, more so than we’ve found elsewhere in Colombia, but it was still a relief to get home safely. It makes you wonder how the apostle coped with all his journeying.

But maybe that was one of his gifts.

Photo: Overlooking the lakes near Guatapé

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