The (Not so) Epic Cross-Ecuadorian and Colombian Bus journey
Catching the 3pm bus from Mancora was fine. Going through the Peruvian exit in Tumbes was fine. Problems arose when going through Ecuadorian immigration.
So we reach Migracion into Ecuador and are told to leave the bus. I step off and quickly realise that my main pack has been unloaded too. I turn to the girl who is directing the passengers and try to explain in my best Spanish that I have a bag still on the bus. Her insistent replies of "Todos bien" (meaning "All is good") sort of placated me for a while but I wasn´t convinced. I had been told that this bus was a direct one from Mancora to Quitos so expected us to be boarding the same bus again. The bus then starts up and leaves. Only after another 30minutes of me asking does she get what I am saying and stares at me in horror. Now I get pretty pissed off as my bag contained 2 pairs of shoes, my towel, belt and fishing rod. We jump in taxi and go to the central bus terminal but are told that the bus is halfway back to Peru by now and there is no way I can get my stuff. I rant for a bit and then realise that none of these items were particularly vital for me and carrying one less bag was a bonus. Nice start to Ecuador.
Another 14 hours and I reached Quitos, the capital of Ecuador. Being the only white person in the vicinity I attracted a few stares. I moved quickly to book my next bus ticket to the border post at Tulcan. I luckily got onto one leaving in an hour and I was relieved to leave the ugly Quito bus station with the probing eyes. Another 7 hours and I was in Tulcan. From entering Ecuador to the border post I had only taken one picture and a pretty unremarkable one at that. I do feel a bit bad for not spending more time there but I say that I will save it for when I return to visit the Galapagos Islands.
My one picture of Ecuador where I captured the glorious hovel of Tulcan
Again it seemed I was the only white person in the area. I felt a bit more secure though as there were many armed police soldiers with big guns patrolling the area. Exit from Ecuador and entry into Colombia went smoothly. I met some Dutch girls at the entry point who were heading into Ecuador. We exchanged pleasantries and the small change we had accumulated. I took a quick cab ride to the bus station in the border town of Ipiales where I booked onto the next bus to Bogota... a 22 hour journey **GROAN**
Welcome to Colombia
We bussed through some pretty jungle landscape and into the night. I was subjected to some awful Spanish movies played at high volume. Despite this I manage to grab some sleep. We stopped off at some small town for a late dinner where I ordered the full buffet option (not having a clue what it was). This arrived in the form of a fried piece of chicken, a squashed and fried banana thingie called a Platano, a vegetable soup, a pile of rice and a ton of potatoes accompanied by some super sweet cane suger lemonade. I ate about a quarter of it.
At lunchtime the next day my torment was over. The food from the night before hadn´t settled well so I was feeling a bit worse for wear. I felt an odd sense of achievement having completed 46 hours of pretty much continuous bussing across South America. I called Angelica and she kindly came to pick me up and take me to her house. Welcome to Bogota.
So we reach Migracion into Ecuador and are told to leave the bus. I step off and quickly realise that my main pack has been unloaded too. I turn to the girl who is directing the passengers and try to explain in my best Spanish that I have a bag still on the bus. Her insistent replies of "Todos bien" (meaning "All is good") sort of placated me for a while but I wasn´t convinced. I had been told that this bus was a direct one from Mancora to Quitos so expected us to be boarding the same bus again. The bus then starts up and leaves. Only after another 30minutes of me asking does she get what I am saying and stares at me in horror. Now I get pretty pissed off as my bag contained 2 pairs of shoes, my towel, belt and fishing rod. We jump in taxi and go to the central bus terminal but are told that the bus is halfway back to Peru by now and there is no way I can get my stuff. I rant for a bit and then realise that none of these items were particularly vital for me and carrying one less bag was a bonus. Nice start to Ecuador.
Another 14 hours and I reached Quitos, the capital of Ecuador. Being the only white person in the vicinity I attracted a few stares. I moved quickly to book my next bus ticket to the border post at Tulcan. I luckily got onto one leaving in an hour and I was relieved to leave the ugly Quito bus station with the probing eyes. Another 7 hours and I was in Tulcan. From entering Ecuador to the border post I had only taken one picture and a pretty unremarkable one at that. I do feel a bit bad for not spending more time there but I say that I will save it for when I return to visit the Galapagos Islands.
My one picture of Ecuador where I captured the glorious hovel of TulcanAgain it seemed I was the only white person in the area. I felt a bit more secure though as there were many armed police soldiers with big guns patrolling the area. Exit from Ecuador and entry into Colombia went smoothly. I met some Dutch girls at the entry point who were heading into Ecuador. We exchanged pleasantries and the small change we had accumulated. I took a quick cab ride to the bus station in the border town of Ipiales where I booked onto the next bus to Bogota... a 22 hour journey **GROAN**
Welcome to ColombiaWe bussed through some pretty jungle landscape and into the night. I was subjected to some awful Spanish movies played at high volume. Despite this I manage to grab some sleep. We stopped off at some small town for a late dinner where I ordered the full buffet option (not having a clue what it was). This arrived in the form of a fried piece of chicken, a squashed and fried banana thingie called a Platano, a vegetable soup, a pile of rice and a ton of potatoes accompanied by some super sweet cane suger lemonade. I ate about a quarter of it.
Colombian countryside
At lunchtime the next day my torment was over. The food from the night before hadn´t settled well so I was feeling a bit worse for wear. I felt an odd sense of achievement having completed 46 hours of pretty much continuous bussing across South America. I called Angelica and she kindly came to pick me up and take me to her house. Welcome to Bogota.
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