WHAT made Colombia famous?
You could answer something about eccentric goalkeepers, extravagantly-coiffed midfielders, Shakira’s hips not lying, cyclists who go uphill fast and the dubious distinction of losing to England in a World Cup penalty shootout.
Wikipedia tells us Colombia is the second most biodiverse country in the world, is a ‘perennial powerhouse at the World Roller Speed Skating Championships’ (which explains a track in the centre of Cartagena) and the Piloto public library has Latin America’s largest archive of negatives.
And, as one former colleague and various tourist T-shirts repeat, it is Colombia, not Columbia.
But chances are you answered something about cocaine, Pablo Escobar or the war on drugs (the ongoing fight against narcotics, not the band).
According to The Wire’s Ellis Carver, it cannot be a war because wars end.
But if our all too brief stay in what proved the final country of our South America circuit is anything to go by, there is at least a pretty solid ceasefire in play.
The drug trade which almost brought the country to its knees is still alive, but this is not life in a war zone anymore.
Even with armed soldiers patrolling the streets – or queuing at the food arts – at Leticia, our first port of call which boasts a healthy number of casinos in case you found yourself with large amounts of cash for some reason.
Colombia, somehow, has managed to turn itself into one of the more stable stops on our itinerary – in comparison with the tear gas which greeted us in Chile, the domestic upheaval which followed us through Ecuador and Peru or the problems which forced us to make a rapid run through Bolivia.
Never mind the issues afflicting neighbouring Venezuela which had us skirting around it and tackling an extended itinerary in Colombia before the need to get home to avoid getting trapped abroad by anti-coronavirus measures.
Pretty much everyone picked Colombia as a highlight before the trip and if first impressions were anything to go by, that extra time would have been very well spent.
Which is why almost the first (and second) thing we did on arrival was leave.
The border into our final country differed from all the previous ones in that it existed merely as a small sign on a wall, our taxi driver from our slow boat up the Amazon to our hostel pointing it out as he drove along the main road.
By the time we realised what he was saying, we had crossed from Tabatinga in Brazil to Leticia in Colombia. From Portuguese back to Spanish.
There are border controls which had us walking the way we had come – in punishing heat given how early it was – to be stamped out of Brazil.
And straight back again and further to officially enter Colombia.
That all produced the first signs of what was to come, a masked nurse asking health questions as we queued for Brazilian immigration and queries over our well-being and my French Guiana stamp (given France’s status on the danger list) at its Colombia equivalent, tucked away on a raft at the edge of town.
Having officially got ourselves across the border and settled into Colombia, we left again.
This time via a boat across the river with no sign of a border into an island belonging to Peru for a group challenge of three cocktails in three countries in three hours.
Pay attention, this does get tricky. Certainly too tricky for us.
We managed the three countries, we just took rather longer than three hours and had to substitute beer at our Peruvian stop because they did not sell cocktails – unless you count pouring Inka Cola into your beer.
Which you really should not do. Count or pour into your beer.
Another boat ride ferried us back to Tabatinga and another walk up to the border and a final chance to grab a Brazilian caipirinha. Which some of us grabbed more than once.
A few photo opportunities – another change to normal border protocol – and we crossed into Colombia for one final time and a rather lengthier assault on a bar’s happy hour supplies of Cuba Libres, pink dolphins and what they translated as caipirinha milk shakes.
Thankfully, given the number of cocktails consumed, we had plenty of time to emerge the next day, pack for a couple of days, explore the town or lounge in a hammock with the hostel cat before heading up the river again for a couple of nights of quiet at a guesthouse in the small riverside village of Macedonia.
Basic but comfortable, much of our food was fresh out of the river.
Some explored the village, some headed out on a muddy nature walk, some fished, some spent plenty of time relaxing, but the highlight for many of us was another river trip to Isla De Los Micos – Monkey Island.
To be honest, it was not the expected day out (and it took a big chunk of the day, given the slow boat which carried us there and back).
Had thought we would be wandering around the island, trying to spot the monkeys in the trees.
What we got was a short walk to a clearing into a posse of little squirrel monkeys who descended around and on us, prompted occasionally by a tactically placed piece of fruit.
Shamelessly touristy and guaranteed to get the camera clicking – if you could click your camera with monkeys crawling all over it.
A quiet evening was followed by a much quicker morning boat ride back to Leticia where our final evening produced more spectacular crowds of animals.
As we settled down for a couple of caipirinhas, thousands of parakeets flocked into the park around us to roost at dusk.
While they took up residence for the night, we headed for more cocktails. And a few more.
There were more to come, just not as many as we would have liked.