Time was running out in Colombia and so I had to make sure to go to all the places still on my list. One was San Augustin. And what a trip it was. I traveled with a friend from school and her mother. We stayed at a lovely hostel where we met fellow travelers from Switzerland, Great Britain, and Germany. The hostel was great, not only because of its guests and great food, but also because it provided the best guides around!
After having visited the Archeological park on our own the first day, we took a jeep ride to the more far reaching sites of interest. San Augustin is one of those locations where the ancients built large statues (like on Easter Island, but on a smaller scale). Little is known about what these statues represent or the people who erected them, which made the huge monoliths all the more interesting.
The final day I was on my own, as my CNG friends moved on to another destination. But I had a fun day planned: more archeological sites but this time via horses!!! I was so excited because I had only ridden a 'real' horse one other time in my life (in San Gil) and it was so much more fun than those not so real horses that give you a tour of the beach.... Well, this day proved to be thrilling, as our horses galloped!!!! It was so amazing ~ there were about 7 of us, but we could go at our own pace, so three of us pretty much stayed out in front, galloping!!, and then we would meet up at a site. All was great until...... toward the end of the day, my horse and I were galloping down a slight incline, heading into an S curve, and I got scared. I grabbed the horn on my saddle with one hand (leaving a bruise for the next day)and tried to rein my horse with the other. This of course put me slightly off balance and my left foot came out of the stirrup. Not good. It was at this point that I realized that I am NOT a horsewoman, and that I could DIE doing this!!!!! Luckily I didn't. But I did trot the last 1/2 hour of the day!!!!!!!!
The excitement wasn't over though. As we returned to the hostel to pick up my things (I was leaving for home on a bus that afternoon), we realized that we had returned a bit late and the taxi we called probably was not going to drive up the hill to the hostel. So.... my guide made a phone call, led me down the hill a ways, where we met up with his friend. On a motorcycle. And I, with all my stuff (I had gone shopping too) had to climb on-board, hold on for dear life, and hope that we made it to the bus on time. Luckily we did ~ we pulled up alongside my bus, with the conductor hanging out asking if I was 'the Gringa', my driver helped me get my packages on board, and I headed off for Bogota!
Another trip I had to make was to the lovely pueblito of Villa de Leyva. This was the first town I visited once I moved to Bogota. It is a typical colonial town, with a huge town square, church, and loads of artisans.
CNG farewell.
Disaster at the terminal.
