Section 2: Somewhere Inside Colombia-Crossing The Andes with a Surfboard

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Goodness how Colombians love their music. The kind of music coming from the smoothie merchant blast boxes generally appeared to establish the particular vibe of that town. They generally played the music that was famous in that specific region. Whether it was "Salsa", "Costeño", or anything that sort, it was generally unadulterated Colombian music.

As we were sitting tight for our smoothies, my eyes started to meander. I began to take in the sights and hints of that little town in the mountains. I saw two fighters who looked around seventeen years of age remaining across the road before a little bistro. They were holding automatic rifles, and giving me the eye. These were Colombian Government warriors who were positioned in little towns like this to keep them out of the control of Radical Guerillas who live in the wildernesses that encompass them.

A portion of those far off Colombian towns have an air of distress, and that one was most certainly one of them. I tried not take out any cameras at that point. The last time I chose to tape in a town like that, I was quickly moved toward by two fighters and speedily accompanied away. I figured I could at absolutely no point ever be found in the future. Fortunate for me, my better half's brother by marriage was with us around then. He turned out to be a Colonel in the Colombian Military, so he mediated for my sake. He made sense of for them that I was only some "insane Gringo" who was in Colombia to visit his significant other's family members, and to ride the waves that Colombia brought to the table. They delivered me to the great Colonel, and I quickly set my cameras aside. Evidently, Guerillas have been known to come into town and tape the officers and the police. Then, at that point, they hand the recording over to recruited professional killers who slip into town soon a short time later and kill them. I can figure out the officer's misgiving with cameras. After that episode, my M.O. on the outing was to remain relaxed, and not cause to notice myself.

My significant other and I were getting a few detestable gazes from a few nearby people that were meandering around the roads. I needed so severely to haul my cameras out and sit back reporting all that we were encountering, however I was unable to gamble with it. Troopers are not by any means the only ones I expected to stress over. Being grabbed by Guerillas was dependably in my sub-conscience Gay hotel cartagena. In spite of the fact that I had the option to get a ton of extraordinary film and photographs en route (when it was passable), my memory was my camera more often than not.

Being dull in several hours was going. We would have rather not been in that frame of mind into the evening. I would much prefer have been seeing that town from the wellbeing of a transport seat simply going through, however in some cases you need to stop to change transports. All things considered, the transport we were hanging tight for was behind schedule, subsequently the unscheduled and intensely lengthy postponement.

As I was pondering the way that happy I would have been to get back on one of those beautiful transports, a hard elderly person on a Burro strolled past us and gave me the evil glare. I attempted to overlook it as I turned my look up and away from him. I started to gaze at the thick mountain foliage that
encircled that little town. It was as yet an exceptionally wild and untamed nation out there. Civilization scarcely had a traction. I could perceive how keeping up with control would be challenging for the Colombian Government.

Unexpectedly, I got a tap on my back and I bounced as though I had been shocked. It was the smoothie fellow, telling me our newly mixed organic product smoothies were prepared. He gave them over to us, and we paid him with a couple of Colombian coins that rose to around ten pennies in American cash. The smoothies on that excursion tasted better compared to whatever you might at any point purchase in the US. The milk they utilized was so new it appeared as though it was spurted directly from the cow into the blender. They additionally mixed in a wide range of extraordinary tropical natural products with names like "zapote", "tomate de árbol", and "maracuyá", which are all unimaginably scrumptious and can be found filling wild in the region around the towns we visited. Those smoothies resembled something a Slurpee tries to be in it's most out of this world fantasies.

As we were partaking in our smoothies, one more neighborhood man approached us and made an attempt to close the deal for an exceptionally fascinating item; dried iguana eggs. He had a few strings of them staying nearby his neck like pieces of jewelry of monster white pearls that were about the size of quail eggs. His semi-white tee-shirt had a perspiration smudge from his neck down to his tummy that had an earthy colored line of soil accumulated on the edge of it. It was truly hot out there, yet he didn't appear to mind. His face and hands recounted the tale of a really buckled down his entire man life in the South American sun.

He was most likely around fifty years of age, however his skin was crumpled past it's years. This man asserted that the iguana eggs gave mysterious powers of fruitfulness and sexual endurance to anybody who eats them. He then took a gander at me and winked. I really wanted to stand amazed at that point the number of children this iguana egg merchant had back at home. My significant other and I laughed at his striking case, and obligingly declined his proposition. As my better half dismissed briefly to find something in her rucksack, I immediately gave the man a few folded up bills secretly. He then, at that point, winked at me once more, and gave me two strings of iguana eggs, which I quickly disguised in my day-pack. I figured I might have the option to utilize these eggs on a heartfelt twilight night in gorgeous Tayrona, after a long, burdensome excursion.