It was certainly not a smooth journey from Colombia to Ecuador and I was not certain I’d even make it. Beginning with check –in some strange instructions were written on my boarding pass that no one seemed able to explain to me (in English anyway). Passing through security I was given a duplicate and triplicate of another form and told to give it to the airline rep in Bogota. On the plane, the air hostess couldn’t seem to explain any of It and suggested I ask someone who speaks english when we landed. The transfer in Bogota was where things started to get a little more worrying. Myself and two Ecuadorians were met off the plane by an airline rep for our transfer to Quito. Their situation was figured out straight away, I was a little different. After a series of rapid fire questions in Spanish, the frustration started to build when my standard reply became ‘no entiendo.’ Telling us to wait in some chairs she dashed off I presume to find someone who could translate, while my fellow travelers glared at me. Given our short turnaround before the next flight, as time ticked by and there was still no sign of our rep, the anxiousness of the Ecuadorians became palpable . The glares continued.
Finally she returned with two others in tow and rushed us through the terminal. Again questions were asked of me and I had no idea what was going on. The two new comers were hurried off to a set of stairs and told to basically leg it. We were taken to the tax office briefly but hurried off again when the line appeared too long (let’s hope there was no departure tax) We reached customs and the other two were hurried through the express lane while the rep spotted some other hostesses and asked if they spoke English, demoralising me with her tone. They wanted to know where I was going after Ecuador and where my tickets were. I tried to explain I was leaving by bus and hadn’t booked anything. After a few worried glances were exchanged, they decided it was all a becoming a bit too difficult and herded me off to the express customs lane, wishing me luck. I spotted my fellow travellers at the customs desk next to me, but they certainly weren’t waiting around. I waited nervously while customs disinterestedly stamped my passport, then ran to find where my plane was leaving from. Storm in a teacup.