Struggled out of bed and went to check my email. Curiously, one of the lads had sent a mail saying simply: lads, go to google, and search "Neil Prendeville sex plane".
I thought this a bit strange obviously but did what the man said! Found a link to a breaking story at home - in Cork, there's a radio DJ called Neil Prendeville who's on every morning from 9 to 12. He can be best described as a total and utter <insert your own expletive here>. Right wing, always whipping up hate and condemning people for small things. Just an odious human being. But hugely successful and popular. Until now. Because on a recent flight to London, while sitting in the middle of a row, he decided that a spot of impromptu masturbation was in order! Whipped it out and started working away. To the horror of the girl In the window seat and the lad in the aisle seat. Even when the flight crew demanded he stop... he didn't. Karma's a bitch Neil! http://www.irishexaminer.com/ireland/aer-lingus-to-complain-radio-hosts-sex-act-to-gardai-135321.html So I'd a terrific smile on my face, when I checked my next email from John O'Reilly, an acquaintance from Cork. I'd sent him a link to this blog and wondered what he thought of it. His mail was the following: Jes*s chri*t, i checked out that blog last night. What the F*ck ?? Seriously what the f*ck. I can only assume your writing it to impress some bird, or get a job for the national geographic. You know how I hate learning, and it sounded like you were actually trying to educate, a few pictures would have done ie. here's a seal........didn't need to know its breeding habit. I sent the link onto Eoin, John Paul and Seanie; here's a selection of their comments "I hope he gets humped by a whale" - John Paul "Just looked at Enright's blog on my phone, He's got 47 entries all about the wildlife and people he's met on his travels! I'm not sure who he thinks would be interested in reading it!!" - Seanie "Does Enright think he's Micheal Palin or something?, There was a thing in the Ross O'Carroll Kelly book about people who send updates of how they are getting on travelling but nobody basically gives a f*ck." - Eoin Hilarious abuse! I was in tears with laughter. Serious spring in my step now as I set out towards town as I wanted to look around Medellin. Got some juice from a street vendor, saw some statues by Botero and then decided to head to the cable car to get a view of the city. Also the total trip on the cable car took about half an hour and ended up in a forest which was supposed to be lovely.
Juice stall - there's one on every street corner!
Botero loves the fat figures - here's a fat cat!
And a fat banker
And indeed it was lovely. Very quiet cos it's being developed at the moment but there was some nice stuff there. Did a zipline which was fun though it didn't last that long.
View of Medellin from the Teleferico up to Parque Arvi
Parque Arvi
Very enjoyable day there, came back to the hostel and into the bar. Couple of drinks and a game of pool with Daniel the sound Aussie barman. Bizarre. Here's a lad working in pubs for a good while and he was completely inept at pool! Like totally rubbish! I had to deliberately miss shots to keep the game going. Shocking. Finished him off anyway, and headed out to the same pizza place as last night. My motto to eating is simple. Find a place I like and go back there cos I know it's nice! No notion of trying new stuff. Had exactly the same pizza as last night too. Delicious. Back to the hostel and it was supposed to be quiz night. But there were only about ten guests in the hostel so that couldn't happen. But Daniel had written the whole quiz anyway, and as there were about 8 of us in the bar, he went through all his qns over the next 4 or 5 hours with lads at the bar shouting out the answers. Great craic again and good to meet a few new people. But I was thinking of leaving for a different hostel cos I wasn't overly gone on this hostel. Anke and Mor are moving to a place they'd heard about called Casa Kiwi in the morning so I'll prob go with them. But what a way to finish my time here in the Pit Stop. Up till 4 or so, having great craic with sound people.
Up around 11, shattered after the punishment bus. Got up and had a look around. Good news! We appear to have a pool in the hostel. Nice one. However, it's quite cold and rainy a lot of the time, so temper that excitement!
Pool - nice
Had breakfast in the hostel, then booked myself on the Escobar tour. This was leaving at 2.15, so walked to the local shopping centre for lunch. Totally weird place! It had clothes shops, shoe shops, a cinema, a food court, then completely bizarrely, on the second floor it was all IT shops. Not selling PCs or memory cards, but all hardware. Systems, networks etc in every single shop. It was Twilight Zone stuff - nightmare!
Twilight zone or maybe it's a Star Trek convention.
I barely survived anyway and made my back to the Pit Stop hostel where I was staying. Ran in to the sound Irish girls from back in Peru! Brilliant - there were only 3 of them on the rip in Mancorabut now there were 5 of them. And they were heading on the Escobar tour as well. Excellent! So the bus for the tour came and we all got on. 8 of us. And now this is a bit ridiculous, all 8 of us were from Ireland. The 5 girls, 2 lads from Dublin, plus me. Turned out that one of the girls was a software engineer and the other 7 of us were accountants. 8 people on a random tour in a random city in Colombiaand 7 of us were Irish accountants. There was some craic on the bus.
Only Elaine on the right (green top) is not an accountant. Her loss!
Anyway, we drove to a different hostel to pick up one more lad. He was Irish too! So now 9 of us were Irish! We didn't ask his profession though.
Tour guide was excellent and had lived in Londonfor a yr so she had great English. And if she didn't know something she'd just ask her boyfriend for help as his English was spot on too and he came along on the tour too. One time she asked him "how you say sangria in English?"
Sound tour guide and the boyfriend
First stop was the house where Pablo Escobarused to live and where his brother Roberto still lives. Roberto was his right-hand man back in the day and gave up his professional cycling career to join the business.
Tatiana with the Escobars's first motorbike. Bought in the late 40s to transport drugs around the country
Blue car is Pablo's first, which he bought in the 60s for $7. The moved to this and away from the motorbike to transport drugs around Colombia
Sitting in the bullet proof van. Doors were seriously heavy and had space to put your gun to allow you to shoot out special holes if in the middle of a shoot out!
Roberto's bike from his cycling career - on that wall are loads of photos and newspaper cuttings from his career
Roberto's a bit fukked up though. He's nearly deaf and nearly blind and hasn't really got over the fact that Pablo is dead. All the furniture is from the 80s and it's really sparse in there. His prized possession is his photo of Pablo which he has enlarged and hangs near his front door. It's a photo which has never been used in any newspaper or magazine so means a lot to him.
Weird thing was that this picture has a fresh bullet hole in it since just three WEEKS ago when armed raiders attempted a kidnap!
Me with the rare photo of Pablo with the new bullet hole just beside my left elbow!
The guide was telling us that she had 10 lads in the minibus ready to do the tour when she got a call saying that she couldn't visit the house. They wouldn't tell her why. Turns out it was because they'd got wind of the kidnap attempt. Police were there when 6 raiders came, a bloody shoot out left 3 raiders dead and 3 arrested. And to think that if they hadn't had advance warning, all the backpackers would've been caught in the middle of it... scary.
Got some photos with Roberto including one in the back of a revolving bookcase where the Escobars used to hide when anyone came!
One of my favourite photos so far - me with Pablo Escobar's brother in the hideout they used to avoid being shot dead in their home in Medellin!
We left there anyway and we went to the house where Pablo was shot dead back in 94. Turns out that our driver on our tour bus used be Escobar's personal bodyguard and was also his driver for years! In 94, Jaime was a bodyguard, 2 wks on, 2 wks off with another lad. The day Escobar was shot, Jaime was off. Just as well as the bodyguard on duty was shot dead as well that day.
House where Escobar was shot dead. He died on the roof of the first red building in the background
Then we went to the house that Pablo owned in his heyday. Massive compound, but it had all the best technology and decorations inside - we saw a video of the inside of the compound on the bus later. They had to leave it when a bomb exploded outside and nearly killed them. The location had always been a secret and now that it was known, they had to go!
Pablo's house - opulent
Next we went to the graveyard where Pablo is buried. Strange kind of place as Escobar is revered by many people because he was the first lad ever to offer hope to millions. These millions of lower class people who could never previously get jobs could now get jobs in the drug trade. In a country where there's no dole, unemployed people starve. So the respect these people had for Escobar is huge and they leave fresh flowers at his grave every single day.
On the other hand, Tatiana the guide said she was ashamed of the late 80s and early 90s. If there was one period of Medellin's existence that she could erase, it would be then. To see the contrasting views of the driver and the guide was fascinating. Back to the hostel then after the tour and the Irish girls fancied McDonalds. I said i'd head along for the craic even though I don't usually eat McD's and no way I was going to it in Colombia. The girls seemed a bit embarrassed about lowering themselves to McD's so it was video time. My favourite bit is the way they all hide their faces but still horse away into their bounty!
Then we found a shopping centre and the girls went bananas with excitement at all the shops that were open. Exit Enright - stage left. I went looking for the Zona Rosa, where all the bars and restaurants are. Had a delicious pizza and usual wine, had to get a taxi back to the hostel with the downpour of sudden torrential rain. In to the bar, and there was the other lad on the tour who it turns out was from Galway. Time to see if he was an accountant too. Turns out that he was indeed an accountant but changed profession and is now in equity finance. Compleeeeetely different! Had a couple of pints with him and a couple of girls who were in the bar. Anke from Germany but has lived in England for years and Mor from Israel. Then the Irish girls came in for a pint. There were 2 towns I really wanted to go to in Colombia called Salento and Manizales. Both supposed to be beautiful, both a couple of hours north of Medellin and the Irish girls were heading there next! Excellent They then told me that Salento and Manizales are actually south of Medellin, not north. Not so excellent. I'd ended up spending an extra couple of days bored in Cali cos I couldnt face the long 9hr bus to Medellin and all along there was this beautiful town just 3 hours away that I really wanted to go to. KRYYYSTE! Gutted. I wish I'd looked at a map! Anyway, the barman was an Aussie called Daniel. And was actually sound! He was playing music over the bar's speakers from his laptop but anyone could take over if they wanted. Well I wanted. My exquisite taste meant we heard a few good songs. Then I discovered a song called "New Slang" from The Shins which comes from the excellent soundtrack to "Garden State". It's described in the film as a song that will "change your life", and while it's definitely not that good, it's still class and I was delighted that I was about to educate the girls on great music. About a minute into it, Anna stood up and announced that they were all heading to bed. I was completely outraged. Outraged! Fine... just go, see if I care! Huh!
After the Irish girls were gone, I chatted some more to Anke and Mor. Mor was telling us about her national service for Israel. Sounded like absolutely zero craic, with her friends dying in wars etc. And she's only 21 now.
Next couple of hours were spent looking up stuff on YouTube. I had never seen a video called Double Rainbow where a crazy Yank starts wailing with excitement about seeing two rainbows together in a National Park. Here it is:
And here's our reaction to watching this nonsense!
The night finally ended about 3am with us all crowded round the laptop watching Father Ted on YouTube. I was drunk and Speed 3 is one of my favourite episodes, so I spent the full half hour laughing uncontrollably and snorting at length. Charming.
Here's a clip from it:
Right, I've to get the 9am or 9.30, I'm not staying here for another day. Got up at 11. Ah kryste!
Found a lovely place for lunch. I really found the hostel staff useless here. I asked a few times for somewhere nice to eat and eventually had to go and walk for about half an hour on my own looking for somewhere nice. Also asked her if buses were running today as it's a bank holiday here. She looked at me blankly and told me that it's impossible to know. What! Just ring them like! No, it's impossible to know! She rang a few times and said that no-one was answering. My patience was gone at this stage so to hell with it, I got a taxi to the station and chanced my arm.
Sound receptionist
Bizarrely, I actually think that I'll miss this hostel a bit. It's not the most happening place in the world, but in fairness, everyone was dead on and it had a real family atmosphere, only a few but v sound guests, sound but useless staff and best of all a couple of mentals. Overall, a gas place!
Casa Blanca hostel - my home in Cali!
Lad from Bristol who I only met briefly and the sound French lads who I ran into again - I first met them at the poker match back in La Paz!
Anyway, it was 4pm by the time I got to the station - next bus 5.30, that'll do fine. Pleasant hour in the pub that had wifi and away I went.
Oh! First bus in Colombia and it's a Merc! Plush...
Got to Medellin eventually at 3.30am where it was pissing out of the high heavens. Got totally ridden for a taxi but at that stage I was only too happy to pay it!
Woke up around 11, then followed Bolton vs Liverpool on a website on my phone from my bed. Got up to go to the jacks after 20 mins and the match was on the bloody tv! Stayed up and watched it all though I'd little interest! Not a whole lot else to do! Some superb entertainment was provided all right by Michael, a Scottish lad who's in the hostel. This fella's completely different to the Yank asshole, this lad was just a bit not all there. Some of his best quotes; Seeing BOL 0 LIV 0 in the top corner of the screen, he said completely earnestly: "so it's Bolivia v Liverpool is it?" "Best thing the IRA did was to blow up that place in finance district in London (Canary Wharf). It was all the English money, the IRA killed no one but they got away without paying the tax you see. The British government couldn't touch them you see. Cleverest thing they ever did" "Ireland has 4 different currencies" "Irish people are very clever, they can speak languages. And they can do sudokus in ten minutes" I particularly enjoyed when he was giving advice to the French lads in his very strong Scottish accent. They understood not a single word. Gave them advice on when to shave (always after a shower, never before) temperature of water (cold is fine) and what to use (lather with soap, shaving cream takes up too much room in your backpack when you're travelling), none of which they understood! It was all highly amusing random gold but I felt bad for the lad. But then again, I suppose he's happy out in his own way. But it always fascinates me when you meet lads like this in hostels sometimes and you wonder just how on earth they can afford to be so far from home and perennially travelling. Went and got some disgusting pizza for breakfast/lunch and with literally nothing to do, I said I'd treat myself to a shave. Popped into the kitchen to boil some water as only cold waterin the taps. Michael was there. John: Hey, is there a kettle here do you know? Michael: What are you boiling water for? John: <to myself> oh Kryste here we go... <out loud> ah... I'm going to have a shave man. Michael: You don't need hot water. John: Yeah but I prefer it really. Michael: But you don't need it. John: I just prefer it. Michael: But you don't need it. <stalemate - luckily he moved on!> Michael: Did you have a shower yet? John: I did Michael: Ok, that's ok. <pause>... have you got soap, that's what I use... look <sticks face v near mine> John: I have these shaving drops I use, they honestly take up v little room in my backpack. Michael: That's ok. <exit John> Having received his blessing, I had my shave eventually, then hung around the hostel watching tv. Updated this blog for a while, more comedy gold as Michael bashed his keyboard beside me trying to log on and failing miserably.
One thing that really frustrates me over here is how people spell my name. The Spanish version of John is Juan. Well that's fine. But bizarrely a lot of people in South America have the English version of the name as their official title. But they misspell it Jhon. So when people ask me my name, I spell it out in Spanish J-O-H-N. And they write down J-H-O-N. AAAAAGH! Drives me mad. I haven't much to be worrying me I suppose.
No you idiot, it's J-O-H-N-N-Y! Nightmare
The dogs in Cali are very excitable:
Later on I ended up having the guts of a bottle of red wine (a lovely Casillero del Diablo in fact!) Had a bizarre exchange in the off licence, I asked how much the bottle was - 28,000p including taxes. Which is about €15. That's a lot of bloody money over here. I chanced my arm and asked if he had one where I didn't have to pay taxes. Sure, that's only 18,000p! Very strange but I wasn't complaining! I am definitely doing my 9 hour journey to Medellin tomorrow. Want to get the 9ambus so I'm there tomorrow night.
