It began with an innocuous email from Charlie that made its way through the ether from London to my apartment in Bogotá. He needed an adventure and was coming out to Colombia.

Sitting at my desk, up the hill from the Presidential Palace and the Plaza de Bolivar, suffering from the monotony of rejection letters from various publications, so did I. We would go to the Choco as I had always wanted to go and none of my Colombian friends had ever been.

Our first stop after a night on the sauce in Bogota was the regional capital of Quibdo. Guidebooks were so slim on information that the best I could glean prior to going were a few additions to a website by an Anglo Russian traveller I had met two years previously while stuck in a roadblock in Chiclayo, Peru. His comments summed it up: friendly people, looks like Africa and the other Caucasians in the area will be Medecins Sans Frontiers.

So far, insofar as an adventure was concerned, my itinerary was ticking all the boxes. Our flight out of Bogota was delayed due to extreme weather conditions in Quibdo. When we did board, to our delight, we were in a 12 seater propeller aircraft.

Quibdo was unlovely at best if one is to make judgements on city structure, architecture and things to see and do. But, it made for an excellent start in the Zona Roja that encompasses Colombia’s long running conflict between the Government and the leftist guerrillas.

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That morning--after knocking back some beers while watching the Colombian football team punch above their weight and draw with Brazil--we strolled down the riverfront where the chocolaty Milo-tinted waters of the mighty Atrato River run their course from here north into the Gulf of Uraba and into the Caribbean. A battalion of soldiers was lining up to rent cell phones, having just returned from long sorties in the jungle.

You could tell the soldiers were war weary, yet elated to be back in the embrace of Quibdo’s civilisation. No photos could be taken as we would immediately be taken for spies. Charlie and I just watched. What an image we must have cut, two Brits well out of their comfort zone taking in the view.

Deciding to move on, and having seen how the military are battling one of the various factions--the FARC, ELN or Paramilitaries--for control of the lucrative river passage we bought flights for Nuqui.

Nuqui was far more straightforward. With direct flights from Medellin this area has been on the map for some years as a destination for nature lovers and adventure sports enthusiasts. There is still a formidable military presence here in the shape of a large naval base but we felt removed from any immediate threat.  Read More...