Medellin, Santa Fe, Guatape, Rio Claro - Colombia

Wed 1/13 - Santa Fe, Colombia

Wake up. Heading to old colonial Antigua town called Santa Fe for sober vacation. Taxi driver to bus terminal is talking to us movie style not looking at the road and swerving everywhere. Is blasting and singing along to 90s rock and Phil Collins. Arrive Santa Fe. Super cute cobble stone streets. Colorful brick plastered houses. Monkey Hostel. Taxis don’t know where it is. Walk toward where map says it is. Dirt road. Sit and drink beer at tienda for break. Lady says there is no Monkey hostel. Hitchhike pick up truck. He kicks us out after 100 meters because there is no hostel. Ask mototaxi - say there is no hostel. We still don’t believe local people because the internet can’t be wrong. Few miles later end up where shitty dot on google map is. There is nothing. Wait for death. Mototaxi picks us up and brings us back to town for free. Pass all the locals who we didn’t believe in shame. Find out hostel is seven miles or so in opposite direction. Guh.

Monkey Hostel. Another terrible name for a hostel. Middle of nowhere. Enter. Google “crazy Colombian techno pool party scene” to see what it looks like. Swim. Bat almost eats my head off. Teach gambling. Buy in cute french bartender. Russian dude feeds us shots and weed cigar. I’m high. Stumble around being a weirdo for a second. Pass out.

Thurs 1/14

Wake. Swim. Were going to go to Guatape - lakes town - but decide it’s too nice here and stay. Walk a bit down road. Lady with tienda selling about five things total. We buy eggs and rice and bread and tuna. Get her to sell us the onion and tomato out of her house because we are bad people. Breakfast. I ask the group of pool partying Colombians of we can eat the rest of their rice, of which all ten or so of them have joined the conversation, trying their best to understand what the fuck I’m asking them. French bartender volunteer buys us beers. Three volunteers from the hostel share our weird egg rice tuna soy sauce 1:30pm breakfast.

French bartender girl’s day off. The three of us go into Santa Fe together. Mototaxi ride to big old bridge. Cool or whatever. Back to town. Pizza and a bottle of wine. Cute cleaning girl who joins us. It’s only 7:30pm and there’s nothing to do in this tiny town, so we start drinking. Playing a great high school game brought by Frenchy called “perfect person” where you imagine “could you date the most perfect person, but they… (insert fault here.)” Girls immediately go to small dick. Good sign. Rock bar called shots. Karaoke night. Everyone except the dude who reggae raps is terrible. I lean into bar say hi to some tiny girl next to me. She asks where I’m from. I say United States. She freaks out and hyperventilates. Finally the recognition I deserve. Talking a million miles an hour. Frenchy calls her Pokemon. Guitar circle sing along outside of bar. Tiny red haired girl talking about playing drums. So stoked to be my facebook friend. So many Pokemon.

Return to hostel. Frenchy follows cute cleaning girl home. Rejected. Gets me out of bed. Join French girl by pool who we have been trying to get to swim naked like, all night. She says she would pool but boss is there. Boss leaves. Jumps in pool in all her clothes. Whatever. Lay in hammocks. Seemingly prude French girl then comes in with “So, these guys gave me three pills, I don’t know what they are, I think they are MDMA, should we take them?” To which I said, “Yes,” to which I then said “This is my sober vacation, no” to which I then said “Okay, let’s flip a coin.” Coin flipped. Lands on pill eating. 3:00am. Crack a beer. Eat the pills. Lay back in the hammock.

I ask for stories. French girl tells about her sleep paralysis and how she knows evil because of it. Good way to start. Feeling sort of heavy. Apathetic. Maybe just a pain killer. Take a piss. Shadows are maybe feeling a bit weird. Mostly nothing. French girl is saying she feels weird. I think she is imagining it. I’m a little nauseous. Things are starting to seem a little cartoony. French girl says “the rafters are moving.” I say “welp, we are on acid.” Frenchy girl says “I’ve never been on acid.” I say “well I’m so sorry you have to work at 9am tomorrow.”

In chronological acid order:  I’m maniacally laughing. French girl is terrified of me. Go for walk around hostel. Frenchy Thomas joins. Everything is dark. Trucks drive by with moving colors. We realize we are dogs, yell “TRUCK” every time, chase the beautiful trucks. Being dogs we steal people drinks out of the fridge. Thomas and I get naked and jump in the pool. Circle pool making waves in front of my face for, maybe an hour. Realize I’m freezing and am shaking violently. Back in hammock with blanket. Phone music and spin off into acid land. We convince girl to hug us. Hugs are sooooo good. She’s freaked out by us or her or something and goes to bed. Frenchy and I sitting by pool talking about how terrible and beautiful everything is. Explosions in the Sky for sunrise. Everything is now in color. It’s like being able to see for the first time in your life. Rainbow jungle trees and fluorescent birds. Smoking infinite cigarettes. Realize we are alone, and there is a bar. Two dudes on acid + unguarded bar = more free beer.  Everything is perfect. Everything is miserable. Everything is Dr. Seuss. Nobody loves us. Both watch an impossible bird fly from wire and grace the pool before returning to wire. The only things I wrote down were “... Or is time higher than I?” and “I'm not enough good to be sad.” Walk over to edge of property. Throwing coconuts at beautiful trees. On or off acid none of this is real. Pass out.

And here's a bunch of pictures I took on acid.

Fri 1/15 - Medellin II, Colombia

Wake up. Everything is dog shit. My face hurts from smiling for six hours. Coffee. I hate everything and everybody except for coffee. Some English guy is asking me stupid fucking questions. Walk to find food. It’s a billion degrees. Can only find eggs and bread. Have to make it and then clean up after myself. Guhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Give an apathetic goodbye and apology to everyone. Catch bus to Medellin.

Medellin. Sober vacation is now over. Check into new hostel called Garden of Blues. Long nap. Wake up. Take adderall to try to be normal people. Drinking beers. Drinking Colombian favorite Aguardiente out of a two dollar cardboard box while watching a group of dudes do parkor and acrobatics and break dancing and back flips and shit I'll never be able to do thought I tried in college because I'm a piece of shit and just drink and do drugs instead. Go to some dumb bars and clubs. Techno. Drink. Dance. Techno. Force myself to drink. Force myself to dance. Techno. Guhhhhhhh. Fuck. Pass out.

Sat 1/16

I don't remember. I do remember going to some "garage party" that was a bunch of 18 year olds listening to techno and doing cool stuff that i was way too old for. I do remember buying more acid from the sketchiest of chewing gum selling drug dealers. I do remember doing cocaine at a reggeaton club and not wanting to. I do remember spending a lot of money on beer and being arm in arm with some German girl who thought every brown person was discriminating against her tall blonde blue eyes because all the clubs were at capacity. I do remember she didn't have sex with me.

Sun 1/17

Must get the fuck out of Medellin. This fucking city is what every white person I met while traveling is absolutely in love with out of every city in all of South America. And the area they all stay in and love is a shitty expensive American strip mall with a park full of drug dealers and a bunch of other tourists they try to fuck. Really I’m just pissed because apparently after a week experiment of no tinder I realize I can’t get analogue laid in the city where everyone apparently (though they are totally lying, maybe,) gets laid. Going to Guatape. But first we have to sit around and talk to all of our friends we made, one of which knows Sam Russo and Claire, who texted me that she fucked some dude in the shower, until we realize it is too late to leave and we have to get a different hostel because ours is booked. And then we go out with some French Canadian girl and her boyfriend who plays in a pretty tight punk band and drink one beer and pass out.

Mon 1/18 - Guatape, Colombia

Wake early. Crazy Taxi himself drives us to terminal. Bus to Guatape. Guatape is a town of a million connected lakes and islands and an absolutely enormous rock that no one knows how got there that people used to worship. Hostel Kasa Kayam is far and peaceful and full of French hippies. Back to town. Buy fishing equipment to prepare for fishing and worshiping massive God rock on acid tomorrow. Mototaxi to rock. Climb seven hundred stairs. View is butt fuck crazy. Return to hostel. Fight annoying French hippies for kitchen. Pass out.

Tues 1/19

Most beautiful Colombian at breakfast.Real life Disney princess Jasmine face with unreal body. No sense. Trying to look at her and figure out what is going on without her dad seeing. Another world of human. Like seeing the face of God and being too damned to look upon it without turning to salt or something. A moment later Thomas is yelling in his thick French accent at a 9am gum ball machine "why you are not working?? I give you coin you give me ball!" Supplies for camping acid fishing. Hippy tells us he had to cut his dreads off because he "mixed" with another hippy that he knew had lice while giving us about 10 minutes of shitty directions to get to waterfall that's 40 minutes away. Walk up 15 foot cut out dried up river. An hour later we are a third of the way through the directions. Quit at absolutely beautiful pasture. Look for magic mushrooms but only find tiny ones. Find nice guy on horse tending to cattle - coolest job ever. Give up waterfall. Different path. Talk to most gorgeous flowing sun dress older Colombian with goats. Why, God. Dank Dollar fiddy sandwich. Return hostel. Practice popular reggaeton songs on guitar and ukulele. Note - and this is very very important - and I'm very serious about this - if you're gringo and can learn raggeaton acoustic songs and busk in South America you are God and everyone will give you money and places to stay and fuck you. Start a reggaeton cover band with me.

Wed 1/20 - Rio Claro, Colombia

Wake 7am. Bus to some town. Bus some town to Rio Claro. Rio Claro is a fucking bizarrely beautiful river on what we thought was a town. Turns out to be a gated resort. Camping is cheap but to get a room is about $30 per person (which is absurd for down here). Thomas is meeting the cleaning girl he met in Santa Fe. He told her he would pay for her. Didn't realize he would be paying sooo much. Check in. Leave shit. Swim. Meet girl. Swim more. I hike alone way up river looking for a place to camp. Jungle trees. Massive cliffs sandwich river. Rocks of bright white marble sit obscure. Rocks with jagged layered plates rise out of the water. Visible fish meters down cling to the flat emerald rock bed. I jump in and float back down river obviously looking for a place to masturbate.

Meet back up with Thomas and Santa Fe. Beers. Dinner. The vegetarian version of chicken potato and dressingless shredded iceberg lettuce is only potato and dressingless shredded iceberg lettuce. Return hotel. Thomas says something like "hey why don't you just climb over to the next open window and see if there is someone sleeping in there duh." Frenchy is a genius. I'm now laying in bed waiting for a family to check into their room and see me in me mostly naked and probably masturbating again.

Thurs 1/21

Wake in Rio Claro. Sneak back into Frenchy and Santa Fe window. Breakfast. Swim. Bus all day to Bogota. Arrive Hostel Musicology - the cheapest hostel in Bogota. Police out front. Explained police will shut down hostel if one more party. Room smells like a basement. The bar is six eight dirty people under shitty disco lights. This place is perfect! It’s like if the surfside bathroom was a hostel. Drink one beer. A punk couple tells me they knew the Goat Head in Denver. One shitty realistic dude explains to me I can't get into Venezuela because the borders are closed and even if I sneak in they will stop me on the bus a half dozen times to check my passport, and I don't have enough money to bribe that many cops, and I'm bummed about this because I set my tinder location to the nearest Venezuelan city and I've never talked to more gorgeous girls who want me to visit in real life or internet ever. Next time, Venezuela, next time. Pass out.

Medellin, Colombia

Thurs 1/7 - Medellin, Colombia

Arrive 5:30am. Walk sunrise to hostel. City climbs up hill and is wrapped in clouds. Sleep on the couch a few hours. Walk around part of the city and I’m staying in. Restaurant/party part of town. Foreign muscle bros in tank tops. Eat at “Mexican” joint with stale everything and a full line of custom hot sauces that have all fermented from sitting in the sun. Sit thinking “I can’t wait to rate this place on Tripadvisor.” Realize I’m just the lamest white person. Finish my shitty tacos, mutter a submissive “thank you…” Walk away.

Meet some people. Lots of Argentinians. Locals who offer me any drug I want. Locals who have free coke and I refuse (sadly, proud). Go out with them to drink at park. Park packed with people drinking. Teaching black magic game and bothering people. Talk to some dude who came for a few days and ends up staying a month “sleeping everyday until 4pm and partying all night.” It’s that sort of city. Exhausted. Walk back to hostel. Pass a gaggle of prostitutes. Huh. Pass out.

Fri 1/8

Wake. Nerd out. Girl has messaged me on OKC and wants to hang out. She has a installation at the Museum of Modern Art here in Medellin and went to Columbia in NYC that’s DIY carpentry shit (???). I google her name Angélica Teuta and she is apparently she is a pretty big deal. Clearly way too good for me. Some other girl has messaged me wanting to hang out tonight who is into “intersectionality, feminism and sex.” Go on long walk through city with headphones. Crazy delicious veggie burger at a place called Verdeo. Walk. City Center is an intense Chinatown looking market with whoever whatever selling any knock off brand anything they can find. Walk. Street that looks like the bad guy slums of Ninja Turtles with blocks and blocks of stripped cars. Walk. Get to some park full of homeless and some terrifying looking lady is coming it me offering sex. Walk. Get to classy restaurant area full of beautiful people. Walk. Find Metro. Five hours later I’m at my hostel.

Feminism isn’t getting back to me, but Angelica is. She is going out with friends tonight and wants me to meet her. I oblige. Sit around at drinking park. A girl recognizes me and says “Garrett?” I say in my head “oh fuck.” She says “Do you recognize me?” I say out loud “No.” She says “From Tinder? We spoke.” I say “...No.” She is clearly devastated and embarrassed. I think of pretending to know her. I think pretending to be embarrassed. Instead I just look at her and say “I have no idea who you are - I’m sorry.” She walks away looking like she is going to cry. I want to feel bad but if you’re not recognized after ten lines of conversation from a dating app - I can’t be bothered. I get out of the park and message Angelica to meet me not in the park.

Meetup. She is with adorable gay friend. We go to rock bar. First time on this whole trip I’ve heard good punk rock at bar. A Goldfinger song comes on and I’m just oh so stoked. People inside are going crazy and are super friendly. Leave to techno club. People are recognizing her on the street and talking about her art. Weird. Arrive techno club. Deep dark house wave whatever bullshit. Still so much better than reggaeton.

Angelica is giving me some heavy eyes and heavy hands. She tells me her gay friend really likes me. I tell him that whatever I’ll totally kiss him. Everyone is shocked - but I’m from fucking Fort Collins. Gay friend is so stoked. Angelica apparently is into this and is now lifting up my shirt and feeling my stomach. Angelica is now kissing me. Angelica is now grabbing my dick in the middle of the club. I am proven over and over again that generalizing out of every nationality, sect, genre, whatever - gay people are simply the best. Some guy has a bottle of good Johnny Walker. Make myself his friend and drink because decent whiskey is nowhere. Angelica is telling me I’m coming home with her. I oblige, still half expecting that it is not happening, because patterns. Get cab. Go home with her. I’m sneaking into her free apartment she somehow has because art. She immediately tells me to take off all of my clothes. I oblige. Yadayada. Pass out.

Sat 1/9

Wake up after two hours of sleep. Yadayada again. Try to sleep but she is watching indie porn. Look up “XConfessions.” Good stuff. Yadada again, because porn. Try to sleep again. Doesn’t work. Yadayada until like 3pm. Veggie restaurant. Smart interesting girl. We’re talking about relationships and hooking up and I confess to many of my exploits of my trip. She does the same. Super down to earth shoot the shit humble person. She explains that Medellin culture is the female pursuing the dudes (week later update: nah). Return house. Sleep for an hour. Wakes me up. Exhausted and with a now sour dick I say “...I should go back to my hostel.” She, in a number of words, says “no, I’m not unlocking the door for you.” I say “guhhhh” and lay around debating to stand up for myself or stay another night. I’m weak. Oh well. We make dinner. I convince her to go to a live salsa show in the area with me.

Salsa culture in Colombia is fucking beautiful. Talented bands shredding some weird ass poly-rhythms with a full backing brass line. Everyone is dancing - young and very old. Many of the women are tattooed pierced and dyed and super gorgeous. Spinning and colliding Salsa pit. People are stoked not from booze but from motion and human touch. Instead of standing around drinking and talking to nothing you just grab someone you like and start twirling. You’re worth is determined by how fancy you can step instead of how much “game” you got. I stood in the corner with a beer exhausted and useless. Angelica and I stumble back to house. Pass out.

Sun 1/10

Wake up. More yadayada. Leave. Make it back to my hostel for free pancakes. Nerding. Walk around looking for a burrito. Settle for another veggie burger place that rules because gringo area = veggie. Nerding. Angelica wants to go out. I want to go out alone. Go out alone. Go to park. Meet German dude. Germans are so weird. I tell him to take my number. Go to Calle 9-1, the same techno club as night before. Meet some Canadian dude who says “it’s cool - the place has a burning man vibe.” Write him off. Meet some hilarious English dudes. We dance weird for hours and make dumb jokes that only people who English is their first language can make. Hardly any girls in club. I’m rather happy about this. Just dancing and drinking and being an idiot. Turn down free coke because I’m trying to be good person. Club let’s out. English dudes have disappeared. Burning man convinces me to go to the park with him 4am. He’s scoping hard for chiX. He walks over to some prostitutes. I get the fuuuck out. Hostel. Check my phone. Apparently weird German guy fucked some girl on the dance floor of a reggaeton club(???). I wish I didn’t hate reggaeton so much. And that I had any game outside of the internet. Pass out.

Mon 1/11

Wake up late. Talking to Angelica. She wants to hang out. I tell her I don’t. I tell her I think she is great but I just don’t want to be “seeing someone” in any extent of the term. She is very upset. Tells me I’m just another shitty dude. I try to explain that traveling and being with someone emotionally/sexually/otherwise is very different from just being alone and being able to do whatever and it’s not that I don’t like her it’s just that I don’t want to “be” with her for the whole time I’m in the city. She is still very upset. I get bummed. I don’t know how to balance seeing someone with friendship with fucking with emotion with being hommies. I don’t want to hurt anybody and I don’t want to deal with this shit and I don’t want to be an asshole. I’m stupid and I can’t grasp a larger perspective to process what is going on and I’m going to a lake town tomorrow to cut my dick off.

Go for walk. Take Metro to random area. End up in neighborhood. It’s some holiday that no one knows the significance of except “it’s Catholic.” No one is working and everyone is partying. Scene: Kids doing wheelies everywhere. Dude sitting with giant PA speaker blaring music out of front door. Tiny bar I get beer just fucking blaring some sort of synth cheesy Latin music. Old on porches watching over playing kids rolling around in streets. No block is without music even if it means sitting in their car to bump it. Inside sits idling old men with hangs pictures of Jesus framed with tacky Christmas lights. Old women throwing dice into board games outside of bars. I find a hill that used to be just a giant pile of trash and drink a beer.

Return to hostel. Some girl hands me “all you can drink shots 9-10p at the biggest party hostel in town Happy Buddha” flyer. Oh no. Head out to hostel. But first am meeting Angelica to “be friends.” Guh. She talks about herself for a while and then talks about why I suck. I just sit there and take it while looking at my watch. I interrupt and say “Hey cool well there is this all you can drink thing you want to come?” She comes. I get word my French friend Thomas from Cali is coming. Yesss. Hostel. Angelica. Talking to dudes from States. One is some older guy who looks and acts like that one super Jewish NYC actor - you know who I’m talking about. I’m pushing American dudes on to Angelica. Frenchy Thomas shows up. Drinks. Dumb. Talking. Drinks. Some funny Australian dude. Talking. Some hours later lead possy of like twenty people down to drinking park. Drinks. Dumb. Talking. Gaggle of dudes follow one cute girl at like 3am into a cab because she “knows where there is a party.” Despite all the drunk this seems like a “certainly robbed” type situation. Angelica, Frenchy, and I stay at park. I made the mistake of telling Angelica before that my friend Jeff and I have banged girls together, so she thinks I’ll bang her with Frenchy. She has her leg over both of us. In yer dreams betch. Depart Angelica. Frenchy and I back to hostel. Pass out.

Tues 1/12

Wake. Supposed to go to lake town but Frenchy needs his fucking french glam haircut which somehow takes all afternoon (if you’re reading this Thomas - fuck you). Go on date to ride cable cars together. Second part of cable cars is shut down for no reason. Buy beers and walk through hill neighborhoods. Poor concrete windowless houses with lots of colorful clothes hanging outside. Adults say “Hola” in streets. Kids says what the adults really meant which is “Hola, gringos” in street. Return hostel. Nap. 7pm free salsa class at same party hostel. Too crowded. Sit and drink. Go to park to find Couchsurfing meeting. Invite cute girl and friends. Nope. Couchsurfing meeting is actually at some bar called “Where is your Mother” (a good name for a bar). Ask some cute girl where bar is. End hanging out with girl. She is from Canada and plays us guitar and is letting on more and more that she is crazy. Other dudes with instruments join. Hang for a while talking about nothing. Return to Happy Buddha. Word of salsa club that is the only happening thing on Tuesday. Grab Israeli girl and go to salsa.

Dirty area of town with few gringos and some dude with liberty spikes. Run into girl I met in Quito who found me at bus station and we found hostel together. We talk for a while. The group of us buy a bottle of Aguardiente. Quickly drunk. More absurdly gorgeous salsa dancing Colombians I’m staring at. Some beautiful alternative looking English girls I’m staring at. Talk to English girls. One wants my contact and then I watch her run around and take a bunch of other dudes contacts and then doesn’t go home with anyone. Some girls and their confidence boosting dick-bouquets, am I right? Some nice ass Colombian dude buys me a beer. Some hot Colombians who live in New Jersey now (???) pay a little attention to us. Israeli girl mad because she can’t get laid. Everyone is upset because they can't get laid. Taxi home. Pass out.