Finally, July 7th. It’s not that I wasn’t having a good time or anything; I just really missed “me” time among a few other things. I love me time and I hadn’t had any of that in a place where even potty breaks lacked privacy (I’ll explain this another day). I was so happy that in a few hours I’d be between the clouds over lots and lots of water making my way back home. Home to “me” time, home to delicious greasy bacon, home to…my ambulatory home 
. I was so beyond thrilled I could’ve cried. I didn’t, but I could have.
Anyway, I ended up leaving Colombia a suitcase heavy, which was super lame, especially since we had multiple stopovers. I hate checking bags because it’s such a tedious process: stuff things into a large bulky suitcase, make sure all liquid items and breakable things are packed securely, make sure baggage is the allowed weight, make sure luggage is secure, make sure luggage is identifiable, be on a stupidly ridiculously long line to be asked a million questions and have passport and ticket looked at a billion times by the slowest moving person on the planet…eh. Whatever, so now I’m stuck with this stupid large suitcase. Lame but oh well.
After my flight in, I wasn’t really concerned about the stopovers being an issue as there were no problems at any of the airports. In fact, the flights in and all the stops were among the most pleasant I’ve ever had (probably because all I had on me was my backpack). I figured the same would be true for the return trip and since stopovers were the only thing compatible with my budget, I would have to like it. My itinerary, again, was Pereira-Bogota-Medellin-NYC. (Here’s a map for reference. Obviously I didn’t take this picture…it’s from exportimportcolombia.com in case you were wondering).
We, mom and I that is, got to the airport and got on the only line there was. I figured we were on the check baggage line, but I was wrong. It was the “go through everything in your luggage” line. Annoying, but no big deal; these things are necessary for safety, right? Everything gets emptied out and examined and then you haphazardly repack your suitcase so you don’t delay more than necessary.
After all that and being asked a million questions by some snot-nosed cop who I’ll nickname “Dick,” we were offered, for 12.000 COP, the wrapping service…to those who are unfamiliar, the wrapping service is when they put your suitcase on some forklift looking thing and it spins while it’s operator completely saran wraps the suitcase. Ha, totally relieves the concern that someone will stuff “silly” stuff into this stupid suitcase, nice…
The slowest person on the planet (or so I thought) reviewed our tickets and passports, weighed our bags, labeled our bags, stared at the computer screen the way a deer stares at headlights for a bit, and then handed our documents back and directed us towards our gate. In another hour, we’d be off. I couldn’t wait.
The flight was called, we boarded, we flew, and then we landed in Bogota with only 20 minutes to jump on the next plane. We made it huffing and puffing, even though the gate was like another airport away, but no big deal. We made it.
Again we flew and again we landed, this time in Medellin. We had 3 hours between planes and we were starving. Oh, we’ll just find the gate, get food, go through DAS and immigration, hit the duty free, and then get on the plane. Yeah, right…
Is your ADD kicking in yet? Mine would be…For now I’ll stop here. Part 2 on Friday. Let me just say this about the next part: if anyone is considering flying to Colombia, make the least amount of stops possible…and don’t stop in Medellin!
