After leaving Villa de Leyva, our next stop was Bucaramanga. We mentally prepared ourselves for the six/seven hour trip, however catching a bus in Colombia proved more complicated.
There is no direct bus route from Leyva to Bucaramanga, so we had to take short buses to various towns until we could find one. Our first stop was Arcabuco (this town was not on our map). Unlike Leyva, Arcabuco does not have a bus station, so we had to flag a bus down like the locals, by waving at them on the main thoroughfare and hoping that they stop if they have room.
Luckily we found some other travelers that spoke spanish fluently and knew the area. They suggested we catch a bus to Bosero since it has the closest station. Bosero was on our map, so Brandt and I figured it was a decent gamble.
Bosero was a smallish town, but had a very busy street of charter buses. We quickly found a bus to Bucaramanga that was leaving soon and bought tickets. This gave us some time to walk around and stretch our legs before the long ride.
However, it turns out that stretching our legs would not be a concern. About an hour and a half into the trip, I look up as literally everyone in the bus begins yelling in spanish. Or just screaming. Our bus driver narrowly avoids crashing head on into the back of a semi truck, and instead clips the side of the bus. As we crash and head into the ditch on the side of the road everyone is yelling. Naturally there are no seat belts so a lot of bumping and jostling was happening as well. Thankfully everyone was fine, if a little shaken up. The bus, however, was disabled. Add about three hours of waiting on the side of the road to our trip.
At last the replacement bus and driver arrive. Brandt and I are relieved and anxious to continue the trip. At this point we are probably getting into Bucaramanga at night and we have no idea what kind of city it is. Our gratitude was short lived.
The bus driver was actually a Nascar driver in disguise. It was kind of like a James Bond movie where, inevitably, there is a car chase through a busy street and James Bond has to expertly maneuver his Aston Martin in and out of traffic to catch the villain. Except we are in a cramped bus, on a two lane highway, on the side of a cliff. And the ride lasted for four hours...
I have never been more afraid for my life. Our driver was zooming down the side of a cliff, using both lanes so he could maintain his speed. And when another car came up he would jerk us back into our own lane. Since this is the only way in and out of several towns, naturally there is traffic. Cars, motorcyclists, semitrucks, people walking on the side of the road, etc. When we would come up to traffic, let's say two semitrucks, three cars, and a motorcycle, our driver would choose to pass them all AT THE SAME TIME. Since this was a curvy road, rarely did we have a straight line, so these moments of moving ahead of traffic occurred on a curve where usually we couldn't see around a corner for, I don't know, another car.
I am seriously considering buying some Xanax for future trips.
Anyway, Bucaramanga seems like a nice city. We are staying for the day until we catch another bus (yikes!) to Santa Marta on the coast. Am I willing to endure another hair raising bus ride for a week on the beach? Absolutely.
-Rob
