Day 44 – Popayan

A note on wildlife in Colombia: Be forewarned, if you get squirmy about bugs, skip this blog entry.

We made our way out of Cali Thursday morning in what was a rather uneventful departure. We figured we could make it to Popayan in two days but we weren’t sure where we would stop Thursday night. We made it to a town about 60km from Popayan – the perfect distance for a hilly ride the next day.

 

 

 

Once we realized our only option for accommodation was a dilapidated camp-like rancho, we paid our $20 000COP (about $12) and hunkered down. We decided to forgo showering in the rather filthy cob-web latent stall, and instead took a dip in the clean pool. (We knew this because there was a pool guy and the smell of chlorine wafted strongly from the clear aqua water.)

Feeling refreshed, we returned to our room where the first little bugger was sighted scurrying along the floor. Rob handled the situation aptly by squashing it with his shoe. The crunch a cockroach exudes when hammered with a Patagonia approach shoe is so disturbing, it makes me shiver just thinking about it - EEEWWWW!

Although we had already decided to sleep in our sleeping bags, we immediately realized the severity of the bug situation and turned our sights towards our clean roach-free tent. I even mended the tent to ensure our safety. We locked our bikes in our room, got cozy in the tent and slept like babies.

 

 

We awoke at the crack of dawn Friday morning, packed our bags and thanked our wise decision-making skills...

That is until we realized our grave oversight – we did not securely fasten our plethora of bags.

Initially ignorant of our mistake, we made our routine stop for our morning refresco. When Rob opened his handlebar bag, we discovered a family of cockroaches of varying sizes had taken up residence (insert shiver). Here I am checking mine.

 

 

When we finally arrived in Popayan - 15km further than the road signs indicated - we knew we/Rob had a difficult job ahead of us/him – going through ALL of our things in search of a cockroach colony.

 

 

 

 

We splayed all our things in the courtyard of a lovely Popayan hostel as Rob frantically hit and swatted ALL of them. We know this for sure, since we went through everything thorough­ly at my insistence. We then did laundry and washed everything until it was gleaming.

In the end, we were transporting approximately 30 roaches that were hiding in everything from our bike tools to our cooking stove.

We even changed hostels in case one got away. (Just kidding)

In the end we did change hostels, not because of bugs, but because of a young group of Colombians who were partying like it was 1999 - Which doesn’t bode well with a 48-year-old who needs his beauty rest;)

On a less squirmy note, we are now in a beautiful (all white) colonial town in the midst of a torrential rain storm. Luckily we have a lovely romantic room overlooking the square, (the view is the second pic below), complete with a chandelier, 12 foot ceilings and a bowl of flowers! Although there is no electricity because of the storm, we have cold beer and...Doritos! Now that my friends is a romantic combination if I have ever heard one.

 

 

 

 

Plus we believe we are cockroach free – which really is the only thing on my mind these days!

 

Day 37 Salento

Blogging whilst in Colombia has been both rewarding – comments from all you lovely people - as well as a burden. Competition for computer time with Rob in a country that sometimes has sketchy internet is at times problematic.  As Rob is a dedicated blogger as well as someone who doesn’t read fiction, (a big filler of time in my day), please see his/our mutual blog for the most up-to-date shenanigans: http://robamysouthamerica.blogspot.com.  He is also more thorough and talks about aspects that I overlook. Here he is researching!

I am pleased to say I am in a happy place right now. At the present moment we are sitting pretty in Salento – a lovely mountain town with a good mix of gringos and Colombians. Our accommodation is fantastic - I say this after a solid eight hour sleep. Inhabiting a century old house, the hostel is a new, clean modern guesthouse with all the frills.

The giant courtyard is overflowing with a tropical garden and our private room is decked with wood finishings, a duvet and reading lights! I have never appreciated reading lights so much in my life. The overhead compact fluorescent bulbs – sans fixture - are blinding and as common in Colombia as mystery meat (and just as harsh).

 

 

We have decided to spend two full rest days here as it is the last of mountain towns for a while. We are going downhill – for like two full days!

The last few weeks have been pretty tiring, but once we finally wrapped our heads around the fact that we physically can’t do the big days we have done in the past, (because of the mountainous terrain), things have dramatically improved.

 

 

We (I) also seem to be dealing better with...Uuummm...digestion. I hate to be blunt here – but how digestion works whilst travelling can make or break the experience. Although our bodies are almost constantly begging for food, consuming it often seems to instigate bowel issues - for me anyway. This has lead to a disturbing amount of Doritos, packaged cookies and French fries – do not fear mother, I also eat a mango every day just to get some vitamins.J

Veggies will be the star performer on my dinner plate tonight – we have access to a kitchen – so finding veggies and a coffee farm are on the agenda for today.

 

Oh, and for soccer fans, Colombia has advanced towards the World Cup – they beat Ecuador 1 nil! It was something like 1998 since they have come this far and boy did Colombians celebrate! Rob was very good at capturing the moments, so I will let him write more about it.

 

On one last note - Happy Birthday Mom! I will eat some packaged cookies in your honour. xo

 

 

Day 27 - Yarumal

At over 2200 metres, I am slightly chilled from the frigid morning air and rather grateful for a day off. The climb from pretty much sea level - a mere two days ago - is telling in terms of steepness. A bicycle was never intended to be pushed, but pushed mine was (for about 20 km or so).

Like any mountain-town resident knows, there is something about living in the clouds that changes the culture and Yarumal seems like a different world from the Caribbean Coast. The colour of the people no longer reflects the ancestry of African slaves. Instead, the angular-featured citizens have a rather fair complexion, no doubt resulting from a mix of Basque traits. There are light-eyed blondies here that have turned my head more than once.

 

 

The rolling hills outside town are lush and are covered with grazing cattle, small dishevelled houses and manicured flower gardens that waft a pleasant perfume often mixed with the smell of burning wood. The pace is slow and mostly the Campisenos load their donkeys, work their land or in the case of yesterday, wave at the gringo idiots pushing their loaded bikes up the hill.

 

 

They are a friendly bunch, but have a major beef with the Colombian government – I am looking into it, but can’t seem to get a straight answer with my non-existent Spanish. Sunday was the day of protest across the country and we were delayed for a couple of hours atop a hill along with a few buses and a dozen or so motorbikes because the protests were getting heated and it wasn’t safe to cross. All seemed fine when we were finally let through.

The area – isolated and high - was once a Mecca for guerillas and is still rumoured to have cocaine-processing laboratories near-by. Now it is famous for the largest population of early onset Alzheimer’s and those affected by the mutated gene are part of a major international study.

The town itself is quirky and chugs along - the citizens filling the central square and carrying on day-to-day business along the steep streets that hug the hillside.

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As for the two idiot bikers - we are soaking up the fresh air, the deep-fried donuts and what seems like 24 hour reruns of CSI – not a bad way to spend a day off.



For Rob's take or a link to the route thus far visit: http://robamysouthamerica.blogspot.ca/

Taganga to Palamino

Day 8 – 16

The ride out of Taganga was grimy and crowded, but as we started ascending into Park Tayrona, flower farms and gurgling rivers quickly replaced the filth. It truly was a beautiful ride. When we hit the coast again, we were greeted with turquoise water beneath huge jungle cliffs – how turquoise water always sets my heart a flutter!

I was quite enthralled and although we underestimated the distance (again), I didn’t mind the extra 20km or so on the saddle.

When we finally arrived at Palamino, we realized that the good ol’ Lonely Planet was a bit dated and both prices and new hostels had risen. But, that is why we have a tent and all the fixings that go with.  So, for the five nights we called our little tent home. We were pitched at FincaEscondida – a very worthy hostel destination with a water-front bar and restaurant, white sand and enough grassy spots to accommodate a few tents. The sound of crashing waves wasn't bad either.

As Rob was aptly nick-named by our new-found Uruguayan friend Emilio, “Happy Hour” was quite a hit – especially with Rob – and we met some fun travellers to waste away the evening hours. 

Days passed without much excitement. Books, walks along the beach, and dips into the surf to cool off followed by long afternoon naps was the itinerary most days. We broke things up by walking 15 minutes from the beach into town to eat cheap food  - the price of food at the hostel was not within budget, so plato tipico - meat, rice, fried plantains and a few slices of tomatoes -  was our big meal at lunch and then we subsidize with fruit and popsicles (for me). Frozen treats in Colombia are exceptional and for about 50 cents, they are within budget!

It was also a fun place to see local children living their everyday lives on the beach; 6-year-old surfers, soccer everywhere and kids just being kids.

 

To get back towards Cartagena we cheated a bit with a bus ride back to Cartagena – we figured since we biked one way, we might as well save four days of travel time and catch the bus. It was a bit of a shit show and Rob had a freak out, but we made it.

We then biked to Playa Blanco; an absolutely stunning beach with calm turquoise water. Bets are that big hotels will soon take over the cabanas where locals live a hard existence with no water or electricity.

I won't lie to ya - I was ready to get outta there. My bike was not happy living in sand and salt and considering I was violently ill last night - our first night back in Cartagena, I was glad to have a flush toilet. 

Unfortunately my illness means we will have to stay one more day in Cartagena because at the moment, my stomach can't handle any food and riding into the unknown tomorrow seems like a BAD idea. I am blaming Rob - his words of wisdom, "It is fine to drink the water here - look at me I am fine." 

I didn't heed his advice when we first arrived, but he seemed fine, so I went for it. 5 hours in the bathroom last night while he slept soundly is fact that yes, Rob's stomach can take much more than mine.

Notes to self...

Bring multi-vitamins to Latin American countries. They don't really do veggies.

WD40 is the most useful product on earth. If cleans sand off bikes and oil off clothes - seriously!

Rob's take: http://robamysouthamerica.blogspot.ca/

 

 

Poor Tanganga

Day 7

I have no idea how this fishing village complete with river beds for streets and villagers who don’t seem to ever have enough fresh water ever got on the tourist map – there isn’t even a sign for heaven’s sake – and we would know as we missed the turn-off – twice!

But, it has and that makes it pretty deplorable. There definitely is a back-packing vibe, which sometimes is cool and fun, but here it doesn’t quite work and mostly it is a pathetic pile of sun-stroked tourists, mangy dogs, French expats, (I haven’t figured out that connection), and young Israelis just off their military service.

So our week at the idyllic beach is still a dream, but I think we have found the spot a mere 60 km north and will hopefully be off-line as of tomorrow.

Tonight I will dream of white sand between my toes and turquoise water blurring my site...

Notes to self...

Avoid Taganga unless driving a water truck.

If you must stay, Casa Davinga is the place to be. Spending a day by the pool is a good way to conserve water(fewer showers).

 

 

Cienaga and Taganga

Day 5 (and 6)

The long ride to Ceinaga provided much more exertion than I needed for my second day of cycling. We figured the trip might be about 98km, but it was 118! Funny, often those who transport themselves by car don’t always grasp the importance of kilometre estimation – an extra 20 kilometers equals a very cranky lady and a very raw, (insert Rob whistle), private region. Mind you I think Rob is worse off than I am.



    

The long ride was flat and the shoulder was cycle-path worthy. Interesting fact - road cycling is quite popular here. For those who don’t follow the Tour-de-France, a Colombian placed 2nd this year. He is a national hero, (obviously), as declared by Wilma – my airplane neighbour.

Anyhoo, the road followed the ocean and meandered into the Magdalena Delta – the largest river on the Caribbean coast of South America. I am sure bird watching would be exceptional in the area as the pelican flock formation was really something.

But beauty rapidly turned into beast and the slums outside of Cienaga were like nothing I have seen. The visuals were perhaps no worse than those seen in photos from magazines or clips on TV, but the smell is what made me physically gag – it was like a combination of vomit, dead animals and rotting fish. Amazingly, the vision that is stuck in my mind is not the make-shift lean-to’s engrossed in garbage and mosquito-infested swamps, but a little boy expertly flying his brightly-coloured kite – a very charming moment that only an enthusiastic child can deliver. Unfortunately, I didn't capture it.



 

Tonight we are in Taganga  - see photos – imagine Israelis gone wild and a fishing town gone VERY wrong. Love it our loathe it...tomorrow I will advice:)

Notes to self...

Always check the nicest hotel first. We scored an awesome hotel for $25.00 with a pool and seaside room! Shockingly the room with a sea-side view was cheaper than the one that looked to the parking lot.

Always ask for directions if you are without a map. We cycled an extra 10km today because we missed the turn-off to Taganga.

Rob's take - http://robamysouthamerica.blogspot.ca/

Cartagena Colombia

Catalyst
Full disclosure – My husband’s (Rob) dream was to launch a cycling trip so long, that there really is no end in sight – long enough to take trips inside the trip, and long enough to become so normal, that the trip stops being a trip and becomes life. With a feeling of excitement and slight hesitation, I agreed to cycle a year through South America with him. Here are my thoughts...

 

DAY 1

Presently, I am sitting at Hotel Villa Colonial in Cartagena Colombia, slightly dizzy from the sickly sweet street coffee, watching Rob assemble my bike. Coming from BC’s interior mountains, with a  two-week transit stop in Southern Ontario, Cartagena is a world away.

 

Cartagena lies on the Caribbean side of Colombia and is the country’s “jewel”. The old city is encased by a huge stone wall -- A Unesco World Heritage Site termed Las Murales -- built in the late 1500’s and truly embodies the romance that lingers down every nook and cobble-stone clad street. Of course gazing up at the curtains of brilliantly-coloured flowers and colonial architecture can prove dangerous as open manholes and erratic drivers prove difficult to navigate. I already have bruised toes!

The reality of the vast class distinction is very apparent in the gritty neighbourhoods that lie on the other side of the wall. Getsemani  - polluted with backpackers and cheap accommodation - is the gateway to the sketchy and dirty streets of Mercado Buzurto – the market where Colombians sell their wares. The garbage always astounds me, but the beauty of travelling is awe - in whatever way that reveals itself.

 

Notes to self...

Never transit through the US. The line up in Miami after we had already passed through Canadian security was BRUTAL!
 

Remember to get a hotel with a terrace and watch the lively world go by. The extra pesos are worth it!

 

Don’t bother making plans if ever visiting Cartagena again. Walk around the old city, taste the delicious fruit and fried maze and cheese and schedule an afternoon shower and siesta – the brutal heat (although I love it) will have you dripping and needing a shower and nap by noon.

 

Rob's take - http://robamysouthamerica.blogspot.ca/