Taxi ride from Medellín to Jardín

Ok guys, I apologise in advance for the lack of punctation. It all fell out of our rocket taxi and expired on the road! Who needs punctuation anyway if you've got Jaime our taxista today from Medellín to Jardín, 3 speedy hours, and glad I was wearing underpants.

 
Jaime is, I reckon, a close sibling of yesterday's taxista, Jorge, all descended from the Big Accelerator God in the Sky where he resides and procreates with the Goddess of Speed to produce demon autopista jockeys in Colombia.

 
Things go pretty well to begin with in urban traffic, just scaring the bejesus out of hunted pedestrians with the long stare of a near extinct species doomed to cross the road only when the hunters sleep in piccaninny dawn.

 
Then we get to the outskirts where it is obvious roadsigns are absolutely optional decoration of the streetscape. So, 30kph? I'll raise you two, and see you at 70kph; ditto for 40kph, raise you again to 90kph.

 
As we rocket up a hill, I am momentarily distracted by a strong smell of urine. I check, it's definitely not me, Gen is tranquila at the back, and Jaime is happily on the phone, texting and talking, with one hand on the steering wheel at 80kph. No, the smell passes, definitely coming from outside after all.

 
Road instructions, like despacio or slow, seem hilariously pointless, who gives a f-k? Not sure why there is a big electronic screen suggesting to drive safely either. About as useful as a fridge for a penguin.

 
Jaime pauses our rocket trip momentarily at an army checkpoint where heavily armed guys politely check us over for drugs and arms. I can't oblige with either, have no clue about using a 9mm Glock, and would certainly lose one or both big toes if I tried.

 
I ask about the men in blue, if they manage on their wages or need a bit of pecuniary encouragement. The answer is yes, they 'comen plata' or eat money, things round here do not operate in a straight line, plenty of life is underhand.

 
I tell Jaime I'm enjoying the ride, it keeps my heart healthy. He asks if I have temido or fear, and I say not at all. Seriously, by now it is nearly routine.

 
However, if we overtook and met someone with the same idea coming from the opposite direction, if I could, I would wish my candle to be snuffed out prontisimo. Because, unless your accident is next to a major metropolitan hospital, you do not want to be badly injured. Ambulances take forever, many probably painful hours to pick you up and the same to return, so chances of survival are not good.

We are now in coffee country. Every minute of every day of this trip so far has been exhilarating. Go Colombia, what a place!

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Colombia, Taxi Ride, Taxi