Away from the desk: Philip Johnston (and John Major) in Colombia Major's first stop on this journey was Washington for official talks with President Bush Snr, who was in the middle of an election campaign that he would ultimately lose to Bill Clinton. The six-hour flight was punctuated by briefings about the PM's schedule and an on-board press conference with the man himself. Indeed, the reason for going on such trips was the close access it gave to the prime minister. One drawback of travelling with an official party was that we rarely saw any of the normal tourist sights. On the other hand, we did get into places that were usually off limits, such as the Oval Office or the president's rural retreat in Catoctin Mountain national park in Maryland. With temperatures in the capital about 95F, a trip to the cool breezes of Camp David was a merciful escape. Our next stop was Cartagena on the Caribbean coast of Colombia, the setting for Gabriel García Márquez's novel Love in the Time of Cholera. Astonishingly, this was the first official visit by a British prime minister to any South American country. Mind you, it was surprising he had been invited at all: the Cartagenans had not forgotten how their beautiful city was sacked by Sir Francis Drake in 1586 as he rampaged his way around the Caribbean. We toured the old walled quarter with its Spanish colonial-era churches and colourful streets - in the pouring rain, unfortunately, but with President Gaviria as our guide. He was not what I expected of a South American leader - he was not in uniform, for a start, and looked even more youthful than his 45 years. Gaviria was on hand again when we flew to Bogotá, Colombia's capital, then - as now - one of the most dangerous cities on earth. We found ourselves in the Tequendama Hotel looking at emeralds in the very jewellery shop where Bobby Moore, the England World Cup-winning captain, was falsely accused of stealing a bracelet shortly before the 1970 tournament in Mexico City. From Bogotá, we made our way to Yopal, before transferring to a fleet of army helicopters for a juddering flight over jungle to the Andean foothills where BP was exploring massive oil and gas reserves that had recently been discovered. The camp was an obvious target for the guerrillas and although reports back home that we were entering a war zone were overdone, while we were en route rumours circulated in London that Major had been shot down. "You're joking," he said. The fact is, I feel pretty fit for a corpse. An official travelling with the prime minister, already alerted to a looming revolt by Euro-sceptics 4,000 miles away, commented: "I hope the pound went down. Maybe we can cut interest rates. Trust a civil servant to get the nation's priorities right. In the end, prime ministers - and especially the travelling hacks - are expendable. Philip Johnston is assistant editor of The Daily Telegraph