Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Salento/ Manizales
Salento is a small village in La zona cafetera up in the mountains. We arrived at night and the hostel we planned on sleeping in was full. In short time we found another cozy little place closer to the center of town. The weather was comfortably cool and the hostel was beautiful. That night we walked around the town square, found something to eat and shot some pool at a local pool bar (Victor kicked my butt). The following morning we caught a jeep into el Valle de Cocora, which is the biggest local attraction. It is a beautiful valley surrounded by mountains, with a unique type of palm trees that you'll only find here called palma de cera. We rented horses for the hour and a half long ride through a trail in the mountains that ended in a beautiful waterfall. Our guide was very knowledgable and a little slick (at least he thought he was). What he didn't know is that we were from the 305 and duped his plan to gip us out of a few bucks. It was more about principle than money. We got some great shots and had a good time riding horses through the steep trails. Later on returned to Salento and hopped on a bus to Mamizales, I mean Manizales, where we spent the night. Manizales was alive with young people and energy pulsating through the streets. I was very surprised. The following day we hopped on a bus to Medellin again.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Cali
One thing I learned about long bus rides in Colombia is that they are COLD! I was just coming off a hang over from the night before and wearing some comfortable light travel clothes. It was the roughest ride i've ever had. I trembled for 8 hours and by the time I arrived in Cali my body temp had risen high with fever (even Dr. Vic seemed worried and wanted to go to a clinic or something). I just wanted to get to our destination. I popped in a couple of Tylenols, an antibiotic and jumped into bed for 8 hours of sweating. By morning time I was fine and on my way up for the remainder of the trip.
Our stay in Cali lasted only a couple of days and we were there early in the week. One of Cali's finer points is the night life. Besides getting propositioned by an intermediary for a prostitute and a few hops to empty bars/clubs not a whole lot was going on during a monday night in Cali. There was the option of a strip club we were recommended, but passed on both the ho and the show.
The highlight of Cali for me and one of the best parts of this trip was paragliding. This was always something on my "bucket" list of things and powerless flight has always intrigued my attention. Coming from MIA, where all is flat except the tail end of a Cuban woman, paragliding is only possible with either a motor or tow. We got picked up at the hostel around 9:30 am by Felipe a native Caleño and went to go pick up Heinz a 25 year paragliding vet from Sweden. Another German guy (forgot his name) and a young guy also named Victor. On the way up to the take-off point, Heinz and I had a long and interesting conversation about psychedelics (mostly psilocybe cubensis). Since the areas where the paragliding trips ended were usually cow pastures, Heinz made it a habit to pick mushrooms when the time was right after landings. Once we arrived at the mountain top it was set-up, take off, fly for about half hour, then land.
Words fall short of the experience of paragliding. It is dream-like for a man to be able to fly through the air in this manner without the use of machinery. It is such a pure and liberating experience. The keys to paragliding/ hangliding is through the use of thermals. These are tornado like pockets of air that circulate briefly between the clouds and ground. Birds are often seen circling in these thermals in order to rise up, then glide down. The concept is the same for paragliding. Find the thermals and your ride is longer and higher. Timing is key. My flight lasted just over thirty minutes and we rose over 2,000 meters above sea level. Incredible!
The rest of our Cali trip was just about exploring the city and met some shady characters as well as some interesting travelers. I wake up early, Victor wakes up late! I spent one morning looking for music in the city with Maria a woman from Portugal who once had a Cuban boyfriend when she lived in Spain. Another one of my mornings I met Rafa a very happy energetic woman from Italy who convinced me to travel to Rome. She gave me some brief examples of how similar Italian is to Spanish and how easy it would be to learn some Italian and get by in Italy with very little. Never considered Italy much before, until now. Thanks Rafa.
Our stay in Cali lasted only a couple of days and we were there early in the week. One of Cali's finer points is the night life. Besides getting propositioned by an intermediary for a prostitute and a few hops to empty bars/clubs not a whole lot was going on during a monday night in Cali. There was the option of a strip club we were recommended, but passed on both the ho and the show.
The highlight of Cali for me and one of the best parts of this trip was paragliding. This was always something on my "bucket" list of things and powerless flight has always intrigued my attention. Coming from MIA, where all is flat except the tail end of a Cuban woman, paragliding is only possible with either a motor or tow. We got picked up at the hostel around 9:30 am by Felipe a native Caleño and went to go pick up Heinz a 25 year paragliding vet from Sweden. Another German guy (forgot his name) and a young guy also named Victor. On the way up to the take-off point, Heinz and I had a long and interesting conversation about psychedelics (mostly psilocybe cubensis). Since the areas where the paragliding trips ended were usually cow pastures, Heinz made it a habit to pick mushrooms when the time was right after landings. Once we arrived at the mountain top it was set-up, take off, fly for about half hour, then land.
Words fall short of the experience of paragliding. It is dream-like for a man to be able to fly through the air in this manner without the use of machinery. It is such a pure and liberating experience. The keys to paragliding/ hangliding is through the use of thermals. These are tornado like pockets of air that circulate briefly between the clouds and ground. Birds are often seen circling in these thermals in order to rise up, then glide down. The concept is the same for paragliding. Find the thermals and your ride is longer and higher. Timing is key. My flight lasted just over thirty minutes and we rose over 2,000 meters above sea level. Incredible!
The rest of our Cali trip was just about exploring the city and met some shady characters as well as some interesting travelers. I wake up early, Victor wakes up late! I spent one morning looking for music in the city with Maria a woman from Portugal who once had a Cuban boyfriend when she lived in Spain. Another one of my mornings I met Rafa a very happy energetic woman from Italy who convinced me to travel to Rome. She gave me some brief examples of how similar Italian is to Spanish and how easy it would be to learn some Italian and get by in Italy with very little. Never considered Italy much before, until now. Thanks Rafa.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Medellin
It's hard to keep up with these blogs, because of how mobile I have been. Trying to cram in an entire country in less than three weeks is impossible! Guess that means, I'll be back!
Medellin is a very beautiful modern city. It has a very well developed and efficient transportation system that includes a metrorail and cablecar system. I made sure to ride them both. During this leg of the trip, we decided to stay with Victor's family, which was different than the rest of the trip. It was sort of a pampering few days. It was the first hot shower I had since arriving in Colombia and we had people driving us around almost the entire time we were here. Cesar (Victor's cousin) and his girlfriend took out to La Piedra del Penon. This is an enormous rock with 649 steps that towers over 200 meters in the air. Shit! I was tired when we reached the top. The views were magnificent though! Later on we went to one of the other cousin's cabin retreat that was close by and hung out there for the rest of the day. Luis, Vic and I went kayaking in the river at the foot of the property.
The climax of our stay in Medellin was a birthday party on the weekend for an uncle. It was to be at their ranch in the countryside. The ranch was beautiful and the party was a hit. Tents were set up all around the property to provide additional sleeping space for all the guests. The props and set-up for the party was great. It came complete with an adult pinata filled with adult toys, condoms, and other stuff. It was funny to see all those drunken adults fumbling and scrapping it out on the ground for plastic tits and rubbers.
After a lot of rum, beer and some salsa with Maria with the 2 left feet who almost gave me a linebacker tackle during one dance, I threw up and decided to call it a night. Next day we were off to Cali.
Medellin is a very beautiful modern city. It has a very well developed and efficient transportation system that includes a metrorail and cablecar system. I made sure to ride them both. During this leg of the trip, we decided to stay with Victor's family, which was different than the rest of the trip. It was sort of a pampering few days. It was the first hot shower I had since arriving in Colombia and we had people driving us around almost the entire time we were here. Cesar (Victor's cousin) and his girlfriend took out to La Piedra del Penon. This is an enormous rock with 649 steps that towers over 200 meters in the air. Shit! I was tired when we reached the top. The views were magnificent though! Later on we went to one of the other cousin's cabin retreat that was close by and hung out there for the rest of the day. Luis, Vic and I went kayaking in the river at the foot of the property.
The climax of our stay in Medellin was a birthday party on the weekend for an uncle. It was to be at their ranch in the countryside. The ranch was beautiful and the party was a hit. Tents were set up all around the property to provide additional sleeping space for all the guests. The props and set-up for the party was great. It came complete with an adult pinata filled with adult toys, condoms, and other stuff. It was funny to see all those drunken adults fumbling and scrapping it out on the ground for plastic tits and rubbers.
After a lot of rum, beer and some salsa with Maria with the 2 left feet who almost gave me a linebacker tackle during one dance, I threw up and decided to call it a night. Next day we were off to Cali.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Volcan de Lodo, El Totumo
Local legend says that the volcano once indeed produced hot lava and ash- but the local priest, seeing that it was the work of the devil, sprinkled it with holy water... changing the lava into mud to drown the devil.
I sure hope it was holy water and not a place where they once went to take a piss or crap. Somewhere between Baranquilla and Cartagena, our bus dropped us off on the side of the road near the entrance to the volcano. It was about a one kilometer walk in to the volcano on a dirt road with nothing on the sides. From a distance we finally began to see the volcano. It looked more like a giant ant hill than a volcano. As soon as we got close we were instantly surrounded by about 3 or 4 little kids who were very persistent in helping us. After we paid our entrance and climbed up the stairs into the mouth of the volcano, we handed our new escorts the cameras and our gear. In we went, happier than pigs in shit! The feeling was unlike anything I have ever felt. Your feet do not touch bottom, and the mud is soo thick that it does not allow you to sink. It was definitely worth the trouble to get there. After you get out of the mud pit, you climb down the stairs and into a small river where some of the local women help wash you off.
After a short while we proceeded to walk back up the road and find a place to catch the bus. After a couple of kilometers walking, we stopped at a food stop on the side of the road and had some juice. Different people gave us different information about where to catch the bus to Cartagena. The juice guy talked to one of his friends and offered us a ride to where we could catch the bus. I have to admit, that the ride sort of freaked me out at first. I mean he got off the main road and cut through some dirt road trail that seemed like it was going to a guerilla hiding place. The only thing that eased my worries some was the fact that there was some older woman in the back that he was giving a ride to also. We finally got to stop, hopped on a huge chiva bus that was too packed. We met 2 women that were traveling around the world, but with no airplanes. One was from France and the other from Belgium. I believe they caught a cargo ship from southeast Asia to South America. Crazy!
Anyway one more night in Cartagena then were off to Medellin.
I sure hope it was holy water and not a place where they once went to take a piss or crap. Somewhere between Baranquilla and Cartagena, our bus dropped us off on the side of the road near the entrance to the volcano. It was about a one kilometer walk in to the volcano on a dirt road with nothing on the sides. From a distance we finally began to see the volcano. It looked more like a giant ant hill than a volcano. As soon as we got close we were instantly surrounded by about 3 or 4 little kids who were very persistent in helping us. After we paid our entrance and climbed up the stairs into the mouth of the volcano, we handed our new escorts the cameras and our gear. In we went, happier than pigs in shit! The feeling was unlike anything I have ever felt. Your feet do not touch bottom, and the mud is soo thick that it does not allow you to sink. It was definitely worth the trouble to get there. After you get out of the mud pit, you climb down the stairs and into a small river where some of the local women help wash you off.
After a short while we proceeded to walk back up the road and find a place to catch the bus. After a couple of kilometers walking, we stopped at a food stop on the side of the road and had some juice. Different people gave us different information about where to catch the bus to Cartagena. The juice guy talked to one of his friends and offered us a ride to where we could catch the bus. I have to admit, that the ride sort of freaked me out at first. I mean he got off the main road and cut through some dirt road trail that seemed like it was going to a guerilla hiding place. The only thing that eased my worries some was the fact that there was some older woman in the back that he was giving a ride to also. We finally got to stop, hopped on a huge chiva bus that was too packed. We met 2 women that were traveling around the world, but with no airplanes. One was from France and the other from Belgium. I believe they caught a cargo ship from southeast Asia to South America. Crazy!
Anyway one more night in Cartagena then were off to Medellin.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Parque Nacional Tayrona
Tayrona is an incredible place set in the jungle covered coast near Santa Marta. It is an hour long bus ride from where we were. Once at the entrance you can either hike for 45 minutes into Arecifes or you can go by horse. We hiked in. The winding jungle trail is beautiful and when you arrive at the site, it is absolutely breathtaking. The beach part in arecifes is off limits to people because of the incredibly strong currents that have taken over 200 lives. The waves were breaking large a few yards from shore. That night I chose to sleep in a hammock. I can´t remember the last time I slept in a hammock. Although it seemed strange at first, I did sleep very well.
The next day we headed out to through the jungle again to a small beach called La Piscina. This part of the beach is swimmable and we jumped right in. After a couple of hours or so, we were off into the jungle again through some more beautiful trail for about another hour. We entertained ourselves by not trying to step on horse shit and trying to remember the discovery channel show´s name where Bear Grill has to survive in the wilderness for a week. I hate it when you know, but can´t remember something. We never figured it out while walking through the jungle.
Finally we arrived in Cabo San Juan de la Guia. This was as beautiful than either of the two previous beaches. I guess what makes it so appealing is how remote it is and what a mission you have to bust to get there. We met a very charismatic and funny French man named Marc. He was a French boxer. Apparently it is a style of boxing similar to kickboxing but only the feet can be used to kick (no shins). He spoke 3 words in Spanish, no English so imagine how communication went between us. Between word negotiation, lots of hand signs and a lot of nodding, we managed to figure out that we would label our picture together, ¨los Cuatro Burros¨.
After some hanging out and a very long walk back. We made it to a bus and were off to Santa Marta for the night. The next day Vic and I were headed back to Cartagena with a quick stop in El Volcan de Lodo, El Totumo and Samantha was going to explore the Lost City. It was sad to see her go. I was really enjoying her company and her Master´s degree in smiling. She is a sweetheart and a very interesting person. But we had places to go and people to meet...
Next stop the muddy pictures of El Totumo
The next day we headed out to through the jungle again to a small beach called La Piscina. This part of the beach is swimmable and we jumped right in. After a couple of hours or so, we were off into the jungle again through some more beautiful trail for about another hour. We entertained ourselves by not trying to step on horse shit and trying to remember the discovery channel show´s name where Bear Grill has to survive in the wilderness for a week. I hate it when you know, but can´t remember something. We never figured it out while walking through the jungle.
Finally we arrived in Cabo San Juan de la Guia. This was as beautiful than either of the two previous beaches. I guess what makes it so appealing is how remote it is and what a mission you have to bust to get there. We met a very charismatic and funny French man named Marc. He was a French boxer. Apparently it is a style of boxing similar to kickboxing but only the feet can be used to kick (no shins). He spoke 3 words in Spanish, no English so imagine how communication went between us. Between word negotiation, lots of hand signs and a lot of nodding, we managed to figure out that we would label our picture together, ¨los Cuatro Burros¨.
After some hanging out and a very long walk back. We made it to a bus and were off to Santa Marta for the night. The next day Vic and I were headed back to Cartagena with a quick stop in El Volcan de Lodo, El Totumo and Samantha was going to explore the Lost City. It was sad to see her go. I was really enjoying her company and her Master´s degree in smiling. She is a sweetheart and a very interesting person. But we had places to go and people to meet...
Next stop the muddy pictures of El Totumo
Taganga
A 20 minute bus ride from Santa Marta lies a small fishing town named Taganga. This very laid back and slow-paced location is no place for anything other than sandals on your feet. The main strip of beach front street is lined with kiosks and open-air restaurants, bars, markets and dives. This place reminded me a lot of the towns alongside the Carribean side of Costa Rica.
After a while of searching, Vic and I found a cozy place on the end of the main street for a very cheap price. The room was unusually large compared to most other hostels i've been in. It included 2 beds, a fan, table and a VERY small bathroom. We had a joke about the bathroom. It provided the four "S" all at the same time if need be. You could shit, shower, shave and if unlucky, shocked. There was a loose light bulb and fixture adjacent to the shower.
One of the hidden jewels in Taganga is a hidden beach (not secret) that's accesible by a 20 minute walk through a mountain path or you can pay a boat ride there. We took the path. Glad we did because the views were spectacular. And a little monkey almost went off on me. I enjoyed the walk to the beach more than I did the beach itself.
Another one of the standout moments for me in Taganga, was at night. Vic, Samantha (our English buddy) and I went out in search of some night life. It started with some drinks. We went to this upscale place on the beach that we had heard about and it was dead. Personally I feel like it was too much for this environment. We ended up at a little sit-down bar and had some drinks. Met a local legend singer who sang with his dreadlocked son. Those guys could sing. When he found out I was Cuban, he sang a Willy Chirino song (Ya viene Llegando). He sang it even better than Willy. Sing is all these guys did, with nothing more than an old, beat-up guitar. Later on we found a place called "El Garage". That place was jamming. We were lucky enough to get there early and secured a table and chairs. After a short while it was standing room only. Salsa, merengue, even Pitbull vibrated off the speakers. I have to admit, it made me proud to know that the 305 was represented even in a remote part of the world.
No hormiga culonas here. The only culonas were the local women :)
Next stop...Parque Nacional Tayrona.
After a while of searching, Vic and I found a cozy place on the end of the main street for a very cheap price. The room was unusually large compared to most other hostels i've been in. It included 2 beds, a fan, table and a VERY small bathroom. We had a joke about the bathroom. It provided the four "S" all at the same time if need be. You could shit, shower, shave and if unlucky, shocked. There was a loose light bulb and fixture adjacent to the shower.
One of the hidden jewels in Taganga is a hidden beach (not secret) that's accesible by a 20 minute walk through a mountain path or you can pay a boat ride there. We took the path. Glad we did because the views were spectacular. And a little monkey almost went off on me. I enjoyed the walk to the beach more than I did the beach itself.
Another one of the standout moments for me in Taganga, was at night. Vic, Samantha (our English buddy) and I went out in search of some night life. It started with some drinks. We went to this upscale place on the beach that we had heard about and it was dead. Personally I feel like it was too much for this environment. We ended up at a little sit-down bar and had some drinks. Met a local legend singer who sang with his dreadlocked son. Those guys could sing. When he found out I was Cuban, he sang a Willy Chirino song (Ya viene Llegando). He sang it even better than Willy. Sing is all these guys did, with nothing more than an old, beat-up guitar. Later on we found a place called "El Garage". That place was jamming. We were lucky enough to get there early and secured a table and chairs. After a short while it was standing room only. Salsa, merengue, even Pitbull vibrated off the speakers. I have to admit, it made me proud to know that the 305 was represented even in a remote part of the world.
No hormiga culonas here. The only culonas were the local women :)
Next stop...Parque Nacional Tayrona.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Cartagena and Santa Marta
The flight over was faster than I thought and after a small airline bottle of wine and a quick nap, I awoke in Cartagena. First thing I noticed as I looked out of the plane window was the military presence that lined both sides of the runway a scattered intervals. I hoped that was a good thing. After a quick check through immigration and a 10,000 pesos taxi ride to overtown Cartagena I arrived at the hostel Vic and I agreed on. As I was checking in, Victor walked through the door. It was great to see him in his rugged-Indiana Jones Latino- like presence. We headed over to a different hostel a few blocks away. After settling in to our four bed room with 2 other people, we hit the town and headed straight for a bar and caught up.
Cartagena is a beautiful city lined with colonial architecture and vividly colored walls and balconies. It looks soo much like parts of Habana only better maintained. The muralla that surrounds the city is an incredibly well built and impressive fortress. As I stared down from the wall sitting on a canon, I remembered ¨El Malecon¨ in Cuba. The rest of the day and night we spent taste testing every national brand of Colombian beer we ran into and exploring this beautiful city.
Our room mates included a 36 year old guy from California who is also a teacher and was on another one of his many travels. South America was the tail end of this trip. He started out in eastern Europe and trekked many countries along the way. The other room mate was a younger good looking woman from Spain who was travelling in Colombia alone. I have to admit that there is something romantically admirable about all those that travel the world in this way, but there is an additional respect for these women who do it alone. They are pretty ballsy and courageous to hop from city to city and country to country in almost complete uncertainty about where their paths may lead.
Santa Marta is the next stop for us in this trip. It is a beach town nestled in the northern coast. A five hour bus ride and a few stops later, we arrived. We walked for a while and found a place to stay that two europian backpackers recommended. Five bucks a night, two beds, our own fan and we each have a nail on the wall to hang our towels. You can´t beat that! It is a very basic arrangement with a shared bathroom that is sort of outdoors. It has a small restaurant/bar at the bottom where we hung out last night and met some more interesting people. One couple from montana who have driven through all of Central America and are driving down all the way to the end of South America in a car they bought for $400. There was a beautiful young British girl who is traveling alone and will go back to study anthropology in England. Later on we explored and drank some more beer and finished a bottle of Aguardiente. We found a little local club and hung out for a while where I actually danced for a while. It has been a long time since I shook my ass on the dance floor, strangely liberating.
Santa Marta has a long stretch of boardwalked beach beautifully decorated giant sized indigenous statues are placed along the way. It is lively and entertaing both in the day and night. Yesterday I dove into the ocean in my underwear and felt a little akward, especially when my underwear ended up somewhere below my knees. After I got out I didn´t feel too bad, because there was some guy who had decided to take an afternoon jog along the beach in his underwear. At least mine had a tropical theme and as long as the front didn´t open up, I could get away with fooling people into thinking it was a bathing suit.
Don´t know what´s next, but Vic and I decided a while back that we had to find the famous Hormiga Culona. It is a species of giant ants that are cooked and eaten in a certain part of Colombia. I´m not leaving this country without taking a bite out of that ass!
Juan Valdez continues to evade me. There was a siting of one of his garments in Cartagena, but other than that...nothing.
Cartagena is a beautiful city lined with colonial architecture and vividly colored walls and balconies. It looks soo much like parts of Habana only better maintained. The muralla that surrounds the city is an incredibly well built and impressive fortress. As I stared down from the wall sitting on a canon, I remembered ¨El Malecon¨ in Cuba. The rest of the day and night we spent taste testing every national brand of Colombian beer we ran into and exploring this beautiful city.
Our room mates included a 36 year old guy from California who is also a teacher and was on another one of his many travels. South America was the tail end of this trip. He started out in eastern Europe and trekked many countries along the way. The other room mate was a younger good looking woman from Spain who was travelling in Colombia alone. I have to admit that there is something romantically admirable about all those that travel the world in this way, but there is an additional respect for these women who do it alone. They are pretty ballsy and courageous to hop from city to city and country to country in almost complete uncertainty about where their paths may lead.
Santa Marta is the next stop for us in this trip. It is a beach town nestled in the northern coast. A five hour bus ride and a few stops later, we arrived. We walked for a while and found a place to stay that two europian backpackers recommended. Five bucks a night, two beds, our own fan and we each have a nail on the wall to hang our towels. You can´t beat that! It is a very basic arrangement with a shared bathroom that is sort of outdoors. It has a small restaurant/bar at the bottom where we hung out last night and met some more interesting people. One couple from montana who have driven through all of Central America and are driving down all the way to the end of South America in a car they bought for $400. There was a beautiful young British girl who is traveling alone and will go back to study anthropology in England. Later on we explored and drank some more beer and finished a bottle of Aguardiente. We found a little local club and hung out for a while where I actually danced for a while. It has been a long time since I shook my ass on the dance floor, strangely liberating.
Santa Marta has a long stretch of boardwalked beach beautifully decorated giant sized indigenous statues are placed along the way. It is lively and entertaing both in the day and night. Yesterday I dove into the ocean in my underwear and felt a little akward, especially when my underwear ended up somewhere below my knees. After I got out I didn´t feel too bad, because there was some guy who had decided to take an afternoon jog along the beach in his underwear. At least mine had a tropical theme and as long as the front didn´t open up, I could get away with fooling people into thinking it was a bathing suit.
Don´t know what´s next, but Vic and I decided a while back that we had to find the famous Hormiga Culona. It is a species of giant ants that are cooked and eaten in a certain part of Colombia. I´m not leaving this country without taking a bite out of that ass!
Juan Valdez continues to evade me. There was a siting of one of his garments in Cartagena, but other than that...nothing.
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