Legal Highs in Colombia

My quest to get rural in a hurry was successful and I soon found myself hopping off a bus in the mid-sized colonial town of San Gil (north of Bogota for all you map-enthusiasts). With all tile roofs and vibrantly painted buildings, the town´s presence does nothing to the taint the encompassing countryside. Known amongst Colombians as an adventure sport town, I arrived with the delimma of what in the hell I was going to spend my time and pesos on. Having since forgotten the sensation of almost wetting yourself, I decided to re-acquaint myself and made an 11th hour decision with another traveler to go para-gliding.

As requested, the paragliding "company" picked us up at the hostel in a car I presume had been glued together earlier that day. Our guides appeared not much better as when we picked them up they looked as if the previous night´s party had just wound down about an hour earlier. The crazier one duly informed us where to find "cheap booze and drugs" thereby confirming that his body toxity level was well beyond mine. The guides further displayed their professionalism by putting their hands over the swerving driver´s eyes as we drove up to the jump off point. But hey, this kind of stuff would cost 4 times as much in the States so I was willing to overlook a few bad omens. Also, what they lack in professional appearance they made up for in their huevos and skills. The ride, or I should say rides, as our first attempt ended with a premature land in a tabacco field, were amazing and the guides perception of invincibility afforded them the gonads to put us into tail-spins that made my head want to explode due to the centrifical force. After landing the second time, I kissed the ground and told guide William to go to rehab.

Probably going to bounce tomorrow as I hear there is some pretty cool hikes not far north of my present location.

Miss you already,

Brian

P.S. More pics in the link.