 A h, the sweet smell of coffee, that pure white powder refined and produced on a scale beyond reason, oh yes, welcome to the world of the South American drug lords!
See news about Latest news Colombia stirs up an image of coffee, both black and white! The black stuff being the legitimate export in numerous strengths and flavours grown in abundance in this dense tropical region of South America. Yet it's the white version, your cocaine's, heroine's and the likes that many people think of when it comes to this country. Disturbing images of hundreds of David Seaman look-a-like's with long pony tails, slightly more refined moustaches, loud Hawaiian style shirts unbuttoned to the waste, showing off their manly hairy chests with full gold plated medallion, whilst having an AK47 tucked in their back pocket - yes its your the stereotypical image of a "Drug Baron". Colombia is renowned for it's drug trafficking and thus a place I was apprehensive about visiting, yet looking back it was an incredible time spent there even if it did nearly end in disaster. I was scheduled to stay in South America for a whole month, spending three weeks in Colombia detouring half way through to go to Peru. The Colombian job involved a full-scale computer installation and training. Nothing new except this was my first job where no one spoke English and my Spanish vocabulary consisted little more than "si" or "ceverza." Thankfully the computer came to the rescue as I converted the display into Spanish. The locals could read what was on the screen; the buttons and sequence of events wouldn't change so even if I couldn't read it I could still operate it. What followed was a mere twenty-one days of charades, which believe it or not ended with another satisfied customer. I was staying in Bogota the Colombian capital, a few thousand feet above sea level; a place I was warned could catch me out with being so high up and thus thinner air. It felt no different when I arrived, setting my watch to the local time. I was met inside customs by a guy called Ramirez, no not the Sean Connery character from Highlander; he looked more like Johnny Depp in The Ninth Gate. I was surprised to see him inside customs but then realised he was there to speed up my entry into the country and avoid those unnecessary and non existent taxes that the non corrupt officials would sting you with upon entering the place - know what I mean? Likewise he was there to usher me into a taxi and avoid the mass of beggars and dodgy looking people wanting to transport me to my hotel. I'd be clinging onto my suitcase while some strange looking Al Pacino "Scarface" local would be trying to grab it off me and to his taxi. Is this normal? I thought, or do I look like I'm rich or something and therefore I'd be generous with my tipping - me generous? Ramirez got me to a taxi - which turned out to be driven by his brother in law, all convenient but secure and safe. We headed off to the hotel, the impressive Bogota Hilton where I found myself sleeping on the thirty sixth floor high above the chaos below, away from the drugs, the gun battles, the break down of society as I saw it. The hotel turned out to be a blessing. For all I felt uncomfortable in this country the hotel felt secure, safe, and an escape from what I considered utter mayhem. Thankfully the television had some US channels, CNN for news, ESPN for sport and HBO, the American version of Sky movies. That would keep me entertained each evening when I retired and locked myself away from harm. Continued On Next Page (hotel, Page 2) ... AUTHOR: P D Han  TAGS: Travel fast food big bac pizza eating life BOOKMARK: Digg it | Add to Del.ICIO | Add to FARK ACTIONS: Comment Save Print Register free acount  |
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