On Wednesday morning we were joined by Thomas, a German guy who had been in our hostel in Medellin and who it turns out was also staying in the same hostel in Armenia. Danillo, the hostel owner very kindly gave us a lift to the terminal and we jumped on the first bus we could find, paying $10 for the 6-hour journey.

Cali is known to be the capital of the world for two things: salsa and plastic surgery. The salsatecas in Cali are legendary in Colombia. It was certainly a town that was renowned for its nightlife and so we were excited to be arriving just in time for the weekend.

When we arrived though, we were shocked. The streets were empty. The town was deserted. It seemed as though the entire population of Cali had fled. We realised that everyone had left because of the Easter weekend. Very disappointing.

Thomas was staying in a different hostel to us but came down to our place once we were settled and we took a stroll around some of the old town, to a nearby viewpoint. Cali was certainly nothing like Medellin. The city was nowhere near as beautiful. We strolled around for a couple of hours before heading back to our respective hostels. Thomas had mentioned that there was going to be a bbq and party at his hostel so we decided to head there in the evening.

We jumped in a cab and I gave the cabbie the address I had taken from the internet. I knew Thomas had paid COP 6,000 and had given the same address to two different cabbies that day. Funnily enough, our guy had no idea where it was and started dricing around aimlessly as we repeatedly told him the address. Even Robin and I could see he was going the wrong way by the way the street numbers were going. He finally stopped to ask someone who also had no idea but decided to give him directions anyway, so we spent a little more time driving aimlessly. Luckily we chanced upon a nice guy that spoke English and had his i-phone. I got the address up and he gave the cabbie correct directions. Yet again, I was ready for an argument. The meter read COP 11,500, nearly double what Thomas had paid. I explained to the cabbie out friend had paid 6k. He said that he had had to drive around to search for the place, to which I replied that it was his job to know the streets, not mine as a tourist (I was pleasantly surprised with my Spanish at this point). He had the same patronising look on his face as the guy in Medellin and told me he could find the place with the correct address. I countered saying our friend had given the same address to two different cabs and gotten here for 6k. He just shrugged his shoulders. One of the hostel workers was at the gate and asked if there was a problem. I explained and said I'd compromise at 8k, to which the cabbie agreed (knowing he had still fleeced me out of 2k -albeit $1). Another a****** to add to the 'hit by bus' list. Luckily the evening improved drastically from there. We met a great bunch of people, some Brits and some locals (German and Vanessa), who were a lot of fun. I got to practise my Spanish a fair bit and also drank a little too much Aguardiente (local spirit similat to Sambucca).

The next day involved just lounging around, writing my blog and thinking a little more about my route through to Cusco.

All-in-all I was disappointed with Cali. I think had it not been Easter week and if I had had a little more time there to learn some salsa and experience the nightlife I might have enjoyed it a little more. Maybe next time.....