The tale of a border crossing

So I've got one country ticked off my list: Colombia is over and I'm actually very sad about it. I know I've said before that people have the wrong idea about the country but I'm determined to get the point across that it really isn't the scary place that I can guarantee you think it is.

I was, however, very worried about the border crossing between Colombia and Ecuador. Anyone you speak to has some horror story of a friend of a friend (etc) who has had some sort of trouble, whether it be the bus journey itself (general advice is never do it at night as bandits are known to board to bus and rob passengers, yes that's right I said bandits) or some issue with police on the border. In Popayan I bumped into a couple of guys that I met in Cali who were also wanting to head to Ecuador so I decided to join their plans- safety in numbers, especially when those numbers include two 30 year old men. Unfortunately for me their plans involved doing the first 8 hours in a minibus. Word to the wise: never take a minibus for longer than 2 hours. Perhaps in England where the roads aren't quite so bumpy and windy and the drivers don't have so much of a death wish, but never in South America. Much to my surprise, however, we got to the border exactly when we expected to (incredible seeing as Colombian time is a completely different concept to real time) and my bag hadn't been stolen from the back of the bus on one of the many stops we made in random towns in the mountains. After getting a collectivo (another minibus intended for about 10 people but actually transporting double that) to the border, a quick ten minutes of being stamped out of Colombia, walking across the bridge to Ecuador and gaining another stamp and we were done! No drama, no bandits, ni problema. 

We were feeling pretty good about heading straight to Quito so after getting yet another collectivo to the nearest town and wolfing down some fried chicken (all I'd eaten the rest of the day was a big bag of 'mega queso' Doritos) we jumped on another bus, ready for 6 more hours of travel. One viewing of Sleepless in Seattle (ultimate guilty pleasure film) and a few snoozes later we finally arrived in Quito, and luckily the hostel that I'd booked for the next night had 3 spare beds! At about half 2 I fell into what is definitely the comfiest hostel bed I've ever slept in, exhausted after 18 hours of buses. 

And that concludes my very uneventful tale of the border crossing- not the most interesting post but just to counteract the countless other stories on the internet which will scare you senseless. Now I'm chilling in Quito for the week before I head off to the sister hostel next to Cotopaxi volcano to spend my birthday hopefully not being swallowed by lava!