“I can hope across an entire global hemisphere in a matter of hours, a journey which once would have soaked up months of time and danger. But alas, as convenience arises, so do expectations for ever-smoother speed.” – Old Sean
Urgent Flight
I’ve left Colombia entirely and suddenly in a mad dash back north.
My last week in the country was pleasant enough. I hung around Bogotá for a few days, snacking on baubles and putting up shelves for my host family. Overall, it was a sleepy couple of days while I got ready to head back to Restrepo in order to teach classes.
When I finally returned to Restrepo, I spent one hectic night in Villivicencio, meeting dogs and babies, practicing a bit more Spanish and doing some personal writing. I taught class in a golden room with a glorious sunset and a non-functioning toilet.
Afterwards, we wandered the city as I lugged about my enormous backpack. We ate astounding ice treats, loitered in front of banks, and walked through alleys decorated under excellent, multi-colored umbrellas. Afterwards, Eli and I describe the different cultural noises animals make while watching pigeons effectively swarm the park. A bit later, two motorcycles offered us a ride home.
Last Moments in Restrepo
I’d like to say I did a lot during my last few days in Restrepo.
But I didn’t, not really. I had some work that had piled up and I found myself largely lethargic. I sat outside watching rainstorms on occasion and read a bunch of books while whittling down a few shows on my watch list. It was a pleasant enough experience.
I also took long, meandering walks down lush, graveled roads, carefully skirting running puddles of water and browsing lines of ants marching past with leave trimmings clutched in their mandibles.
There were a few activities. At one point, we went out for a sugary treat of shaved ice and condensed milk that tasted fantastic. I browsed the town’s main church and saw the struggling limbs of the town’s most important, dying tree.
Finally, I spent a day hiking through the mountains, steadily chugging uphill. I patted wandering dogs with nails coming out her collar to ward off foes. There were glimpses of flirting birds and an ambling anteater wandering through the jungle. I skipped rocks uselessly into white water rapids, waved at placid cliff-cows and snacked on bananas the entire way. My legs were rendered tickled as I picked my way through incredible thick grass, green as a song.
But it wasn’t to last.
Recalled
While staying in Restrepo, my family had an emergency pop up, and I went downstairs to get my host family’s advice. I was needed back in the states immediately.
The issue at this point was that the bus system was currently non-functioning. A mudslide between Villivicencio and Bogotá had rendered the road blocked, and we were unsure if I would be able to find a way around.
So I gathered my things, packing in uneven swiftness and nabbed a motorcycle to the bus station, where I learned about the mudslide calamity.
Undeterred, I managed to find a van taking the long way round, embarking on a mountainous journey that would sacrifice a total of 10 and a half hours. Just before departure, I passed out hasty, heartfelt goodbyes, purchased a potential plane ticket on my cell phone and fled.
We drove through the night, where I took turns at the wheel or snoozed lightly. When I finally reached Bogotá, after a brief stop at a way station for fried breakfast foods, I hailed an Uber, capitalizing on my limited Spanish to give somewhat challenging direction to the airport.
There, I gave one final goodbye and headed towards my terminal.
Juggling Airlines
When I reached check-in I was told my original flight was untenable, that it was running so late I would miss all ensuing connecting options. As such, I was shuffled elsewhere. I tried to quickly complete my check in process, failing miserably.
Instead, I was understandably, frustratingly detained.
Between the short-notice flight check-in followed by the frantic flight swap, I looked like a security risk. This earned me an unholy amount of screening.
My backpack was torn apart twice and repacked several times as the Colombian airport security met my dead-eyed, sleep-deprived gaze of apathy with open annoyance. My beard trimming kit, an apple, some toothpaste and my shaving razors were all taken up and dumped haphazardly into a bin.
However, airport security wasn’t done with me yet. I was taken into a blank-walled room for another short interview quizzing me about my intentions. I was asked my reason for visiting, where I was off to next and if I was on any drugs. Overall, I mostly spent my time showcasing a lot of the fancier pictures I had taken of Colombia as evidence of my touristy-intents..
Then, when boarding the plane, I was pulled aside for more “random” screening that saw my backpack pulled apart once again, a paper swab brushed over every article for evidence of drug reside.
I was roundly pissed with Bogotá’s airport by this time.
Stateside Again
Finally, I boarded my plane and immediately passed out, waking up for a brief transfer in Panama City (where again, I was pulled aside for a blessedly brief security check which only required a half-dozen questions). Afterwards, I was due to fly to Orlando, where a final flight would take me home to Philly.
Except when I landed, something was a bit off.
I disembarked the plane and settled in for a four hour layover as the Captain rattled off facts about Florida’s temperature and condition. It was only when I had been sitting and chatting with my friends for an hour that I noticed Orlando’s WIFI was labeled MIA WIFI.
That would be MIA as in Miami.
Somehow, I was at the wrong airport, waiting on a connecting which would be leaving the Orlando airport. I wasn’t sure If this was intentional and I’d been expected to make it to the next airport or if this was due to the endless shuffle of connecting flights from the previous day.
Groaning to myself, I rushed to the flight desk, where a very cute attendant enthusiastically told me that I could be put on a shuttle that could get me to Orlando just before my flight, provided midnight traffic wasn’t too heavy.
I chewed on that for a few silent moments, baggy eyes barely tracking. I suggested just being transferred to a flight from Miami to Philly. This turned out to be a splendid and workable idea and four hours later, I was lounging on my final plane, awaiting my aunt to fetch me from the airport.
I’m stateside again. What comes next, I’m not sure. But until then.
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written June 3rd 2019
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Ten years ago, I abandoned my military surplus store backpack for a Farpoint 40 Osprey Travel Pack. I’ve never replaced my bag since. The backpack has been with me around the world, through my departing Beijing and onwards through trips across Europe and South America. I have nothing but praise for Osprey Products.
