Planet Kapow 38 : Salento to San Agustin

MY EARS: pop furiously all night, the right ear sounding like a thousand champagne bottles corked in quick succession, as the bus ducks and weaves dangerously along the narrow mountain passes on its way south from Bogota. In the dawn light we pass muddy rivers, swollen and engorged and furious. And Colombia unfurls herself, a huge, soft quilt of sumptuous green hillsides rolling to the horizon. We find ourselves a spot on the map where the air is cool and clear - Salento. A rustic hostel in the midst of vast paddocks where we can help weed the vegetable garden, build the pizza oven, play with the dogs. We pause: we breathe. Read the rest of the story: http://www.planetkapow.com/1947