The first day

I thought I would have plenty of time to curl up with my laptop and type away about Colombia, but by the time I’m back at the hostel and the internet is working I’m so worn out the last thing I want to do is use my brain.

I want to talk about the last few days right away, but it will probably be better if I start from the beginning.

1:30am February 28
After packing and saying goodbye to a few friends I attempted to get an hour of sleep before the 2+ hour drive to Chicago. No luck. We arrive safely to the airport, everything is good.

My cheerful mood is broken when the Spirit Airlines counter employee asks me for my return-flight details.
“No return flight, it’s just a one-way” I say, feeling a little proud and excited to have such freedom in South America.

“No Sir, that is not possible. Americans flying into Cartagena, Colombia are unable gain entry without exit transport information.”

“Wha…?” Bullshit! No one on the online forums mentioned this (that I saw) and neither did travel.state.gov

After some really stupid minutes I asked for a manager or someone to come over. Even after she talked for 5 minutes I didn’t get a straight answer if this issue was with Colombian immigration, or Spirit Air being toolbags.

Blah Blah Blah, if I want to get on this flight I have to get a bogus return ticket (they will only let me book it less than 90 days out as Americans can theoretically stay 90 days sometimes without any additional paperwork). If I bought a one way and threw the ticket away, and then bought another one way to come home it was about the same price as a refundable ticket. I guess it was good to drop the $600 on the refundable in case something happens. Either way, I’m pretty pissed off.

The flights down went fine, talked to my first Colombiana on my second flight. She was pretty nice and flirty but not my type, plus she was flying with her parents and her mom kept looking over and smiling. A little distracting.

We climb down the stairs next to the plane on the tarmac and man is it hot and humid, uhhg. The line for DAS (immigracion) took about an hour in the same blistering heat. The agent checks out my flight info with 90 days written on it, or maybe he didn’t even glance at it, it was hard to tell.
“How long are you staying?”

“About 90 days please, is that alright?”

“Yes, no problem”
*Stamps passport for 30 days.

You motherfucker.
Now I have to either bail and go to Venezuela before Medellin and Bogota and hope I get a 60 day tourist visa with that border crossing or get some pictures and a bunch of forms and spend 10 hours trying to extend my visa... every 30 days.

I hop a cab to my hostel and get ripped off on the price like every other whitey with basic Spanish skills. I asked 3 times to lock in a price before I got in but he would only respond with, “I give you good price, no worry”.
“No, tell me the price”

*Tosses my bag in the trunk and closes it.

Whatever. I get in anyways. On the ride he asks if I need an apartment or a beautiful girl about 10 times each. Pass, no AIDS please.

Once I check in at the hostel I get online and see if my parents can cancel the flight I charged on the credit card this morning since I had already passed through immigration. Good news, they were able to remove the charge without a problem.