On the subject of planes, trains, automobiles---and crazy motorcylists.

This is a Boeing 787 Dreamliner. Built out of composite materials and with state of the art techniques, this jet is considered to be the most comfortable aircraft ever. Because there's no threat of corrosion, it can pressurize its cabin with humidified air, while keeping pressures equivalent to  being 6,000 feet above sea level--not too high at all. 

We did not fly in a Boeing 787. We are too poor. 

Our trip started out well. We flew out of Salt Lake at about 11 o'clock PM, and we arrived in New York at 5 AM New York Time. From there we flew to Cartagena, Colombia, another 5 hours away. Sure, the second leg of our flight started out in stereotypical fashion (with somebody on our flight being stopped at the gate by DEA agents), but all things considered it was relatively uneventful while still being cramped and uncomfortalbe. Note our overjoyed expressions. 

Once we arrived, however, things got exciting. Too exciting. We jumped off the airplane, went through customs, changed some money, and immediately hopped into a taxi to take us to the local bus terminal, where we would catch a bus from Cartagena to Santa Marta. Being the talkative chap that our driver was, he proceeded to teach us what the term "Shanghai'd" meant. And by that I mean he didn't take us to the bus terminal.

He instead took us to where his buddy was parked in his unmarked, average-joe car. Not exactly comfortable with the idea, but eager to get to our destination and satisfied with the proposed price to get to Barranquilla (the city halfway between Cartagena and Santa Marta, we jumped in and got on our way. 

And we survived! Sure, the guy stopped at random times to deliver strange looking packages to complete strangers, but we made it alive. Things got a little iffy when I had to beg the man to pull over and allow Haley to literally pee behind a roadside shack (this is shared with her permission, neither of us had the chance to use the restroom between our flight and our various taxi rides), but soon enough we were on a more official looking bus in Barranquilla. 

Drivers are crazy here in Colombia. We frequently overtook large semis and smaller sports cars while riding in our bus, and the horn was blaring constantly. Eventually the odd coastline--consisting of red dirt, patches of ocean marshes, and tall cacti--gave way to a lush, green mountains, and we dropped into a crowded little city along the coast at about 6 PM, almost 24 hours after beginning our little excursion. We ventured out to get a stuffed Arepa (a corn meal pancake stuffed with cheese, meat, and sauce), then came back into our room to crash. 

Tomorrow we're looking forward to getting out and seeing more of the city. And you can all look forward to a more engaging, coherent blog post! It's hard to write when you haven't slept for 48 hours. 

-Konner