The journey to Salento isn't a straight forward affair. Our bus to Armenia drops us of at a road junction in the middle of no where and the driver tells us in formal spanish along with much needed arm gestures to cross the road and catch a bus for Salento going the other way. We cross the road and wait. The bus arrives and we pile on. It is cramped and we have problems lugging our packs down the narrow aisle to the remaining two seats right at the back.

We book into the Plantation hostel and head out for something to eat.

The next day we go for a walk around the town and up to a look out. First stop wasn't far, a notice on the door suggests they sell effing delicious brownies. An offer too good to miss. We knock and a lady answers and invites us in. Thinking it might be a cafe we enter. The lady shows us to her dining table and ask if we want coffee. We order and for the next 30 minutes or so have coffee/tea and excellent brownies with Angelica. She is chatty (Spanish only) and we feel like very much at home. Afterall this isn't her cafe it'is her garden patio.

One of the many stray dogs follows us around. He looks a little like the littlest Hobo, is totally harmless and he almost seems to guide us to the best places. The outlook is surprisingly very good with a view into the next valley which is deep, steep and very green. In the afternoon we take a tour of a nearby organic plantation. They mainly grow coffee but also grow pineapple, plantains, bananas, bamboo and raspberries. Although the guide Andres doesn't speak much English we learn a lot about the growing of coffee and subsequent processes to produce what we find on our supermarket shelves.

That evening we hatch a plan with Chelsea and Kyle from LA to go play a game of Tejo. This is a traditional Colombian game played indoors and usually beer is involved too. The game itself doesn't cost you anything so long as you keep buying beer. Seems like a good deal to me. We're taken to a short court of only about 20ft. At both ends there is a crate leaning at around 45 degrees filled with clay. In the middle there is a metal ring. Victor the bar owner places small triangle pink paper parcels containing gunpowder on the metal ring. It looks like a rough compass. Then with a small metal disc he throws at the targets and hits first time. The explosion is louder than I expect but perfectly safe, I think.

We start and it takes a bit off time to work out the technique and how hard to throw. Kyle registers the first explosion and shortly after I register my first. Helena and Chelsea seem to have some bad luck as perfect throws don't get a bang.

Kyle and I have our eye-in now and start to make it look easy. Perhaps because he was worried about the amount of gunpowder going up in smoke Victor invites us to play on the big boy courts. These are about 60 to 70 ft long and discs are around 3.5kgs. With a few demonstration throws from Victor and co we have a go. Throwing half a stone of metal around can be dangerous and I wave people back from the edge of the court. I throw and I'm woefully short on distance as I was keen for accuracy. Kyle fairs much better hitting the clay first go but no explosion. We continue playing on the big court and eventually start to consistently hit the clay but no one is hitting the paper parcels.

The girls have a quick go before we leave but the only thing in danger are the spectators who duck and cover.

The next day we decide to book a horse riding tour of the Coroca valley. Helena who spent a couple of years riding a horse is obviously not going to have any problems. I however have never ridden a horse and I'm fairly certain I haven't ridden a donkey at Blackpool beach either. How hard can it be?

Sergio arrives with three. A lovely blanco horse for me, a marron (brown) horse for Helena and a young grey horse for himself. The horses don't have names but I call mine Ned.

I climb on Ned and get comfy. Ned is perhaps a little small for me and I feel as though I could perhaps touch the floor but he seems strong and effortlessly we set off. I expected to head through town initially as this was where we'd seen previous tourists going on horses but we don't. We set off towards the plantation we visited the day before. The main problem I have with this is that the plantation is on the side of a steep hill. Maybe there is route which traverses the side of the hill we haven't seen.

The path starts to gently slope downwards and I notice Ned seems to know where he's going so I just sit there and take in the scenery. We go past the plantation and then the path starts to get really steep and rocky. The path is deeply eroded and the clay sides rise up around our ears. The scenery has gone which is fine because I'm starting to worry about our lack of helmets and the horses falling over with us under them. There a few occasions when Ned and Helena's brown don't want to go any further, fine by me, but the guide urges them on and with a slip and slide they continue. The path starts to switch back tightly and one bit is too steep for Helena and she gets off and leads her horse down the steep, slippery tight turn. I get off but Ned is not having this one and nothing I can do makes him think otherwise. The guide has a word with old Ned and off he goes without me. With this new freedom I see Ned in a different light and it would appear he doesn't want to see me again. He is off. Helena has got back on and has set off quickly slipping and slidding. Ned is very happy to follow Helena without me. I slip and slide my way down the V shaped path trying to catch my horse. Around a corner Helena has stopped and I catch up with Ned. I have a quick chat about how horse/rider relationships work. Ned nods in agreement but I'm not sure he is listening. Back on Ned we set off again down the death track and when we reach the bottom I really hope we don't have to go back up the way we came. In the bottom of the valley I start to relax a little figuring the flat land will bring relative safety.

We turn on to a wide bridleway and Helena's brown starts to trot and with no instruction from me Ned follows with a trot of his own. I mention our little relationship chat from earlier but he is definitely not listening now. Next thing is a gear change, in my opinion the wrong direction, and we move into a canter. This feels like the steep of light to me and I squeeze and hold on for dear life.

In order to improve our communication, after we start walking again, I begin to experiment with steering. Left and right are pretty easy and Ned is very responsive. I feel like a real jockey now and hope Ned has a bit more confidence in me.

We walk up through a valley floor which undulates but doesn't scare us. There is a tunnel and a river crossing all of which cause us no problems. We visit a waterfall and eventually head back to Salento, thankfully, via a road. The horses are tired and so are we but the experience has been memorable . I say goodbye to Ned and walk off ever so slightly bow legged.

We take it easy the next day and I make a friend in the local fruit and veg shop. This is fairly typical of the locals in Salento. Super friendly and keen to chat. Helena takes a Spanish lesson which is also a tour of the town.

The following day we head to the Coroca valley to find a hummingbird reserve. We set off later than we should but believe we'll ok. We catch a 4x4 taxi and start the walk in. The valley is similar to the landscape we saw on the way to Medellin. Green pastures rising up the valley sides with tall palm trees dotted around. It takes longer than anticipated to get to the reserve and if we go in we'll probably miss the last taxi back. Well it was a nice walk even if we saw no hummingbirds.