Sin rumbo has been one of my favourite Spanish expressions for a while now. It basically means with no direction in mind or aimlessly, with rumbo often used to mean a ship’s course.
The truth is though that I’m rather enjoying being sin rumbo at the moment. If my engine had conked out, it might have been a different story. But it’s very much in working order; I just haven’t turned it on yet.
So how did I come to be adrift in South America? Here’s a brief backstory:
Up until 3 weeks ago I’d spent almost two years living in Spain, in a great town in Andalusia called Utrera. And in the year before moving to Spain, I was in Colombia for 6 months. Ever since then my heart has felt an inexplicably strong pull back to South America.
Back in November I was randomly perusing an online dating site, and came across someone I got along with really well. To cut a very long story short, after what seemed like an extraordinary amount of time chatting online, I decided to come to Colombia and meet her, arriving in Bogota 3 weeks ago.
The reality though is that this was just the catalyst I needed to pack my bags and go on another adventure. I also had a great plan B lined up in case it didn’t work out: visit countries where I can fully explore my passion for salsa and bachata dancing.
And it’s a damn good job I had a plan B, because plan A slipped through my fingers faster than a July ice-cream in Seville.
So here I am, single again in a nice little flat in Medellin, just off La 70 – one of my favourite parts of town. I’ve been dancing like a lunatic, taking private lessons daily and going to salsa bars by night to practice new moves and do my bit to improve the reputation of Gringos as having steel rods in their hips.
But now it’s time to move on. Medellin is amazing and I’ll always love this vibrant city and its beautiful people; I could easily live here for many years if it wasn’t so far from home.
My tenancy runs out on Tuesday though, so pretty soon I’ll be turning the engine on and moseying on out of town.
I still haven’t decided where yet – I am adrift after all. But I reckon by this time tomorrow night I’ll have my rumbo back. And I can’t help but think it’ll be in the direction of the mysterious Guyanas.
Oh, and one more thing. My flight home in April got cancelled; not just the flight in fact, but the entire route. If only I was the kind of person who believed that everything happens for a reason…
Jellyfish Rock 