Colombia, mi amor!

At this point I am well past Colombia but it is still a fresh and pleasant memory.  I survived the excessive bus ride from eastern Ecuador to the Colombian coastal town of Santa Marta.  Most thought it was a horrendous idea and experience, but in reality it was one of my favorite bus trips.  Amazing scenery, plenty of Spanish practice and most importantly, discovering the limits of what I can handle.  This didn’t come close the limit, so I have higher hopes for the upcoming overland travel around Africa.

Santa Marta is a humid, coastal city lesser known for its beaches and more for the breathtaking nature that surrounds it.  I raced here to meet up with a Portland friend and others.  I register at the hostel and head up to my dorm room, when I see a familiar face come down the stairs.  It takes us each a minute, but it is one of the guys I met  on the terrible bus ride stranded in a desert in Peru.  We meet again two countries and two months later.  Ahh the small, small world of backpackers!  The “gringo trail” through South America is well paved and you never know where you will meet someone again.  I was thrilled to see a familiar face even though I knew him the length of the bus trip and don’t remember his name.

I meet up with my Portland friends and we make a plan to head to the remote town of Minca for a day before they go WOOFing (Working On Organic Farms)- I think? We stay in a treehouse hostel on a hilltop overlooking the city of Santa Marta and explore a swimming hole, waterfalls and river in a refreshing downpour of rain.  Nostalgia of our rainy town in the states came with it.  We part ways and I head back to the city way too soon.  It was a necessary break from the noise, traffic, aggressive vendors and extreme heat.  I catch a shared taxi back on the crazy road.  Three Colombians and the gringo in a car that appears to be totally gutted aside from bench seats, a shifter and crowbar for an emergency brake.  The rain continues to pour and none of the windows stay up except for mine as we wind through the potholes, mud and other cars.  I can’t stop smiling the entire time.  Another sweaty day in Santa Marta and I am off to my next coastal town, Cartagena.

I was itching to get out of the heat but given numerous warnings that Cartagena was worse.  Sadly, they were not exaggerating.  I step of the bus and lose my breath in the sticky air.  I meet some of my new roommates and we head out to explore the town.  A big castle, some giant shoes and most memorably a dirty, somewhat dangerous market are the main sites.  I will do a lot to get some cheap, fresh vegetables even if it means walking through fish guts and yelling at a man following us like prey.  The day ends with a walk with some hostel friends to “the wall” surrounding the city for drinks and a view.  I’m on an impossible mission to get a tan so make the beach a daily stop.   It’s exhausting to do anything and takes some serious digging for energy to leave the partially air conditioned comfort of the hostel.  Great friends and memories, but I must see more of the country. 

Thirteen hours to the highly acclaimed city of Medellin.  I am greeted by a cooler nearly perfect temperature.  I successfully navigate the metro system with my big backpacks and avoid eye contact from annoyed people as I push my way through the crowds unconsciously hitting people with my pack on every slight turn.  My backpack is my worst enemy on travel days and sometimes my only friend in new places or long bus terminal waits.  I get excited every time I see that she has arrived at the next destination with a little more grease and grime from her adventure under the bus.

Medellin is different from any other South American city I have seen.  It’s clean, smooth running, law abiding and the people are so friendly and helpful.  The architecture and transportation resembles that of Europe more than South America.  Tucked in a valley, it is surrounded by green hills and most homes and buildings are constructed of red brick.  A tram ride (metrocable) up one of the hills gives us a beautiful view and chance to walk through a poorer but equally beautiful part of the city.  I meet up with two friends from Cartagena and their local hosts for some drinks at the famous El Poblado district.  I am invited to join in an adventure with them tomorrow, destination unknown.  I sign up immediately.  The next day I check out of the hostel, store my bags and notify them of my plan to return and catch a bus that night to a town in the east.  I return to my hostel over 48 hours later to shocked staff and friends inquiring as to where the hell I had been.  The unknown adventure just kept going and I was thrilled to be along for the ride.  Paragliding over Medellin was halted after rain, but we got some great views and a wild idea to head to Santa Fe, a small vacation town an hour or so away.  This turned into an overnight stay and an invite to ride horses in the mountains outside Medellin the next day.  We made that easy decision and spent a wonderful day in a remote picturesque home and ranch meeting more great local people.  Thanks to some great Colombian hosts and new friends, I am officially in love with Colombia!

I finally depart for Salento, located in the ZonaCafecito (coffee region).  Laura and Julie, my American friends and fellow adventurers from Cartagena and Medellin meet me the following day.  We meet up with a local man who tells us all about town and the region.  Our hike through Valle de Cocora the following day starts with a 30 minute ride standing on the back of a packed jeep to the trail head.  We cross numerous aged wooden walking bridges, through the forest and hills, a hummingbird sanctuary before reaching an opening of green lush farmland and palm trees peeking into the clouds.  Laura and I walk to a local coffee farm the following day where we are able to see the process, meet some of the farmers and try some coffee in a small coffee production.  My stomach decided it did not like coffee a few years ago and after putting up a serious fight, I finally gave in.  I have not touched it since, but from day two in Colombia I have been forcing my body into it and enjoy this great cup of black coffee.  Our local host joins us to the nearby city of Armenia for some live music by his friends and beers before Laura and I head out on our midnight bus ride to Bogota. 

My final day in Colombia has come.  Bogota is a big crazy city. I meet up with a local friend for some sightseeing which is great but overall, I don’t get that warm cozy feeling from the city or people.  I guess it’s better because leaving will be easier. I am excited about seeing Brazil, but also disappointed that I did not see nearly as much as I wanted to here.  I know I will return for the unseen, the seen that I must see again and all my great friends and the others I have yet to meet.  None the less, my departure is bittersweet.  Off to Brasil with a big space in my heart for Colombia.