Motos and More: Travels to San Andrés Days 1 & 2

I like big beaches and I cannot lie… And breakfast. I like that too.

Day 1 ~ Touch Down!

Completing tourist paperwork in the Bogotá airport

At Thanksgiving, I always say my eyes are bigger than my stomach, because I usually dish up a plate of food larger than my head, eat half, and survive off the rest for the entire week that follows. The same goes for the number of books, magazines, adult coloring books and podcasts loaded into my backpack and on my phone for a single trip.

Expectation: I’m going to read and listen to smart things and be super intellectual! Reality: Sleeping and watching movies is cool too.

Our route took us from Fargo to Chicago, Chicago to Miami, Miami to Bogotá, Colombia, and finally to San Andrés. By the time the plane touched down on the very short San Andrés runway around 11:15 pm – to the cheers of passengers, exalting at not having crashed through the barbed wire-lined airport fence and sliding into the ocean ­– I had flipped through a few pages of a book I meant to finish last year, and listened to half of a 30-minute podcast. #productive Continue reading

Introducing… Motos and More: Travels to San Andrés

Part 1 of 9 installments about traveling to San Andrés, Colombia

My view, beachin’ under a palm tree on San Andrés

Car rides with strangers can get you in trouble… I’ve learned that the hard way. But it’s also funny how you can meet random people at just the opportune time, know them for a few hours, maybe a day, and they influence an important decision later down the road.

Last year – it must have been in May – I went with a group from my university in Chile to go white water rafting at Cajon Del Maipo, a gorge near Santiago. The entire crew gathered outside of Museo Fonk, a museum dedicated to the Easter Islands, which served as our designated meeting spot throughout the semester. A little caravan of tiny cars pulled up, driven by our campus advisor and friends she recruited to go along.

I can’t even remember the color of the car I picked, but I jumped in a front seat and started making friends with the driver. She was from Colombia, and was in Chile visiting friends and heading to “bucear” along the coast of Chile. Initially, I had no idea what the Spanish word bucear meant, so when I finally looked it up and realized she was talking about scuba diving, we had plenty to discuss throughout 3 hours of driving. I had always wanted to become certified so I could dive with my mom, and she convinced me there was no better place to learn than the Colombian island of San Andrés. Continue reading