WALKING BARE FOOT IN CENTRAL MEDELLÌN

Having needed two pairs of underpants yesterday after dangling 400 metres in the air, I decided to keep my feet firmly on terra firma today, by heading to Parque de los Pies Descalzos (Barefoot Park).

Having read on the Internet about an oasis in central Medellín where you canb walk barefoot in a park of sand amid the bustling city, I think my expectations were perhaps a little high: golden sand, palm trees and a beachful of silicone-enhanced, coconut-oil smelling Medellìn girls prancing about gaily in bikinis.

Unfortunately, all I found was a square of gravel, and not even one topless señoritas string bikinis. I found a quiet spot where nobody would see my big toes and report me to the park authorities, quickly stripped out of my shoes and socks to take a photo, and headed disappointed to the airport to catch my flight back to Bogotá.

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DANGLING HIGH IN THE AIR ABOVE MEDELLÌN

With less than two months until my sabbatical ends and I am due to start back at work in the UK, I decided to run off a high cliff this morning. Unfortunately, I was strapped into a paraglider, and survived.

I don´t like heights. I have never liked heights, and I probably never will like heights. The only reason I did a parachute jump a few years ago was because the friend I was with at the time would have ridiculed me for the rest of my life if I had chickened out. The only reason I did some paragliding today was because it was cheap as chips (around GBP 25), and because I knew that the views across Medellìn and the surrounding mountainside would be absolutely spectacular.

The views from 400 metres above where we ran off the side of a cliff  high in the Colombian mountains (and about 2000 metres above Medellìn) were indeed absolutely spectacular. As waterfalls cascaded far below us, we caught thermals above large birds that were apparently the cousins of condors, and wached planes landing at Medellin airport in the distance.

- 'Relajate.' my instructor Jaime told me several times, as my hands gripped with whiteknuckles around the straps that stopped me plummeting to my death. For some peculiar reason, I was relatively calm and relaxed when we were gliding about 300 metres above the ground, but I started getting nervous when we ascended to 400 metres, as if that extra 100 metres could mean all the difference between life and death should I fall. Either way, I was definitely glad that I opted to wear the same pair of underpants as yesterday when I got up this morning, as it meant I had an extra pair to change into when I got back down to ground. 

Now that I have done a parachute jump and paragliding, I have no intention of ever dangling unnecessarily in the air again. I will need to think up a ground-level based alternative to not having to go back to work when my Sabbatical ends in January.

SPECTACULAR VIEWS AT THE TOP OF PIEDRA DEL PEÑOL

Not for the first time in Colombia, I thought to myself what a beautiful, unspoilt and undervisited country it is. Not for the first time, a local welcomed me to his country with a warm smile, a hearty handshake, and a reference to Corazon Valiente (Braveheart). - 'Que chevere' the young guy that had just arrived at the top of Piedra del Peñol remarked, when I told him I was from Scotland as he took my photo. How cool.

I had been sitting patiently on the top of the rock for over 10 minutes waiting for someone else to show up so I could get them to take my photo with the spectacular scenery behind me. I don´t think there can be many places in the world where you get 360 degree views like that from the top of Piedra del Peñol all to yourself for ten minutes in the middle of a sunny day.

As I sit eating my bandeja paisa in a restaurant at the bottom of the rock afterwards, I suddenly realise that in less than two weeks time, I will be attempting the 5-8 hour climb up Cotopaxi volcano in Equador using ropes, crampons and an ice-pick. Today, I struggled up the 649 steps of Piedra del Peñol with sweat dripping and a heavy shortage of breath. I think I better to do some exercise between now and the last volcano climb of my travels.

 

PABLO ESCOBAR ACCORDING TO FERNANDO BOTERO

MEETING PABLO ESCOBAR ('S BROTHER)

Medellin's most (in)famous son is of course the deceased drug lord Pablo Escobar and not the artist Fernando Botero. Today I met Pablo's brother Roberto, who as well as being Pablo's accountant during the height of his wealth (Pablo was listed as the 7th wealthiest man in the 1987 Fortune 500 rich list), also spent 13 years in prison for his involvement in the Medellin cartel, then lost most of his sight and hearing in a letter bomb attack from another cartel, and then only a month ago, was nearly the victim of a kidnap attempt by two disgruntled former employees of his hermanito Pablo.

The Pablo Escobar Tour took us to Pablo's main former house in Medellin (a six floor block he called 'Monaco' that housed him and his family), then to Pablo's grave, then to the place where he was killed (or killed himself if you believe that version of events), and finally to the house where Roberto lives.

We saw the bullet holes left by the recent kidnap attempt. We saw Pablo's first motorbike and other vehicles that were used to smuggle drugs. We got to try on his furry hat. We saw one of the many wooden desk with hidden compartments where money and drugs were concealed (apparently, the carpenters were always killed immediately after making the desks so that they could not betray the secret stashing places) during the height of the Medellin cartels reign. Finally, we got the chance to get a photograph of Pablo Escobar, signed and fingerprinted by Pablo's brother.

During the tour, I noticed that Roberto never looked any of us in the eye or talked to us directly. I suspect this was less to do with him being ashamed of his criminal past, and more his embarrassment at charging people 20,000 pesos (8 quid) to sign a photograph of his brother.

 Monaco, Pablo's austere and compact former family home in Medellìn

Philospohy of Pablo Escobar:  "Better a grave in Colombia than a jail cell in the United States."

Pablo Escobar woz (killed) here

  

Roberto Escobar was too ashamed of his criminal past to look at the camera

SILICONE AND RAINWATER IN MEDELLÌN

It took me almost two hours to spot my first fake breasts in Medellin. Perhaps I wasn't looking hard enough. Perhaps I was looking too hard. Either way, I was a little disappointed that it took me almost 120 minutes to spot a pair of silicone enhanced mammaries, when all the guidebooks, and everybody that has been before (and is male), had told me that Medellin is Colombia's capital city of silicon implants.

Or perhaps I just didn't see them because they were all hiding under umbrellas. Having spotted a hot circular thing in the sky when I stepped off the plane that I haven't seen for several weeks in Bogota (apparently, its called the sun), I was more than a little disappointed when it started raining just after I had checked into my hostal, and headed out to do some sight-seeing.

After a quick walk around the Botero statues, hiding under my own umbrella as I gingerly stepped around puddles, I headed back indoors for a seat on public transport. Medellin's Metrocable offers an unique opportunity for tourists to great view of the city, and also see some of the areas that the guidebooks advise not to visit on foot. Fifty feet up overhead, the cable car system is a ideal way to see (and hear) some of Medellin´s poverty at close quarters, without the risk of losing your  camera and wallet. And the trip only cost me 50 pence return. On the downside, I don't think some of the other passengers in my cabin were too happy about me taking lots of photos of the shitty neighbourhoods that they live in.

   

 

A STROLL IN THE RAIN IN PARQUE BOLIVAR

Fat people and fat animals in downtown Medellin, the birthplace of Fernando Botero....