I recommend you to listen to this playlist while reading the article, a short selection by myself of the sounds that have made my days in Colombia and more specifically along the coast. There, you’ll find some salsa, champeta, reggaeton, vallenato, and some others… (I’ll talk to you about music further on):
More time than usual has passed since my last article, I have been very busy! I really lived the Caribbean and am now back to the mountains and less friendly temperatures. I swear I enjoy the sun as much as possible! I even managed to get tanned a little, which isn’t so bad for November. Little warning to envious people, if there are any among you: this post might hurt you. As for others, who use these articles to travel a bit, come, I’ll take you under a tropical sun!
San Andrés first, a Colombian island next to Nicaragua. It is Colombian only by its name, because it used to be a British colony, before ending up in more local hands. And the black population descends from Jamaican slaves immigrants, therefore the atmosphere is different from that of the Colombian coast! Let me just say that visually and musically (not really olfactively, which is surprising), you get carried away to the world of the God Marley and of reggaeton, it’s really special! And the culture is truly different: people there claim they’re from San Andrés more than from Colombia, and some guy even told me he doesn’t like speaking Spanish because his languages are English and Creole. The island is as Caribbean as the concept of an island in the Caribbean makes you dream it: white sand, palm trees and turquoise waters.
I spent three enchanting days there, floating without believing it on a transparent sea and under a wonderful sun, doing a bit of diving and a great bike tour around the island with a nice French girl who lives in Colombia, Pauline. I also met some happy Chilean girls (Teresita and Francesca) and cool Brasilians (among which, Cristina), with whom I danced in the streets and discovered the hilarious portugnol, a mix of Spanish and Portuguese allowing a mutual comprehension colored by laughters. Shared meals, fresh coconut water, improvised bathing and end-of-the-day ceviche (the dish is different from its Peruvian homonym, the Caribbean version consisting in shrimps bathing in onion, fresh tomato, cilander and lemon juice, simple but delicious!), I can say I savoured these three days!
Then, the actual adventure started: back in Cartagena, I took a colectivo (little buses that leave only once full but offer a more personalised service than standard public transports) to Santa Marta, to the east of the coast. This little town doesn’t have much to offer but its climate and sea (which already isn’t too bad, I agree), but it’s a perfect basis to discover the region, which is one of the richest and most varied I know! An amazing area, that I absolutely recommend to anyone wishing to see lots of Colombia in little time, or simply live in the beauty of nature. Jungle, mountain, beach, desert (it’s even a coffee-growing region!)… read on.
I started with a 4-day trek in the jungle to reach the Ciudad Perdida, the lost city that served as sacred site for local indigenous people about a thousand years ago. More than the city in itself, interesting and pretty in this context (but clearly less impressive than, say, Machu Pichu), it was the trek as a whole that made the experience great! We slept in hammocks in the nature, installed in former cocaïne production labs (the region was one of the hotspots of coca cultivation not so long ago, and all those now working in tourism used to be coca cultivators, the war was tough on them).
We were walking along the river where we bathed more than once. We were eating portions for two and more rice than necessary to hold on for the daily 6 to 7h of walking. We were enjoyed as main dish by voracious mosquitoes and got to intimately know the smell of our sweat mixed with that of the night humidity that would never completely dry off of our clothes. But what a blast!!! One of the best parts of my travel so far (but there begin to be a lot of best parts hehe).
This few-day trek was my first experience of that type, and I must say that it was as great as expected. Splendid, not only, but also awesome for the physical side of it. First, I now officially know that I’m able to walk for this long without dying (better, I wasn’t really at the end of my strengths, so in theory I could even do more… note to Sarah: copy that darling!). I like the challenge that such a hike represents, to imagine that it is my body that is moving itself, really, my muscles doing that effort, my brain fighting with itself to get convinced to move on, that it’ll be fine, that it’s possible. I like the feeling of accomplishment at the end of a long day, and somehow I must admit that my ego is very satisfied about walking at a good pace and being in the lead group.
What was also very nice during the trek were of course the people you meet. My guide was a Wiwa indigenous, who could tell us more about local cultures (even though he was actually not super talkactive), and I walked partly with a couple of Colombians, partly with a more numerous and more international group (which, to be honest, was a bit nicer than being alone with a couple). Among others, I met an American, an Australian and a British who were nice and good walkers, as well as four crazy Belgian girls – the latter charmed me enough to change my plans of the coming days several times, in order to keep the adventure going together. These three Wallons, Sophie, Oriane and Emilie, as well as Margot the Flemish, have animated and embellished the week that followed the trek to the Lost City.
Sunset in Palomino
We therefore went to Palomino, greeted by rain (tropical, hence warm, but still) due to the homonymous season. But it was the opportunity to admire a beautiful storm over the sea, beer in the hand. Together, we more than none honoured our french speaking culture of those who know how to enjoy and share good food (translation: basically we ate a lot of good things), and we also noted that the language that unites Belgium and Switzerland provides us with a common pool of sort of old-fashioned musical culture, and thus we hummed and sang several times (didn’t always know the lyrics, personally, but the good mood was there). I won’t surprise anyone if I mention that half of those ladies were scouts in a more remote period of time, which in part explains why we got along so well!
Then, I went for a day observing flamingos in their natural environment with Margot, on a piece of wooden ship carved into a single trunk. A few hours floating around in a shallow laguna, with a local teenager of the Wayuu ethny (which, we later learnt, has today as main distinguishing cultural particularity that of… selling and buying its women), where a few hundred flamingoes come savour the local seaweed. They are more or less numerous depending on the season but (for once) we didn’t get too unlucky! Still wild, apparently not seeing tourists too often due to the rainy season, they got scared when we came nearer (though after having seen them from enough to fall in love with them) and we were offered the majestic show of a massive flight of flamingoes such as you’d believe exist only in documentaries! What a fantastic, magnificent, monumental moment.
The day after, I decided against my reason and my budget to follow the girls to their visit to La Guajira, the department to the northeast of Colombia. Convincing, they also charmed the boss of the travel agency, who could speak good English, into coming with us instead of sending us a subordinate. And the last addition to that funny group who couldn’t resist my dear Belgians’ arguments was Jeronimo, a quiet Berliner who ended up surrounded by happy chatters who took him through dunes and cliffs.
We had to cross a desert in jeep and drive for many hours, then fight over our fish with local flies before taking a boat under an almost full moon to finally reach the very cute hammocks hostal by the water where we’d spend the night. On the way, we swam in the sea for 5 minutes and took a wind bath at the top of a little hill, what breathtaking sights! The second day of this excursion we reached Punta Las Gallinas, the most Northern point of Southern America! And, mostly, we swam at a beach consisting of an enormous and very slopey yellow sand dune diving into the water. So beautiful! Big fresh lobsters were waiting for us for lunch after that, a real pleasure for the tastebuds, and it then it was already time to leave.
What however remains as a weight on the heart is this strange crossing of the desert. Before leaving, our guide had bought a quantity of little breads and water pockets (here it’s drunk in pockets, not bottles), and we knew people were rather poor in the region. They are mainly members of the Wayuu ethnic community, and those who live in the desert really do so in a certain misery that creates a stark contrast with the fact that we were crossing the same desert with our expensive photo cameras and pay a 2-day trip a price that’d make them live carefree through many months. Stopping by these little wooden huts to hand bread and water to the kids, while hearing the response that, indeed, if there were no tourists to pass by their lives would be pretty tough, that’s really very sad.
After this special tour to la Guajira, we spent another night in Palomino, where the show was this time that of very different customs and a certain culture clash at the village discoteca. Veeeery very special for us to observe these couple dance with costeña touch (“from the coast”, meaning way, way more sensual than the European politically correct allows us to imagine), while dancing as a group and in a circle, as we are used as Westerners. Special thanks to the 14-y.o that made me dance merengue and was wearing a shirt… but barefoot! Culture clash, I’m telling you.
The day after we set out to discover the Tayrona natural park which, poor organisation and many tourists aside, is really wonderful! Horse ride, palm tree beaches and warm water, the perfect place to say goodbye to my Wallons going back to their flat country. In spite of my plans urging me to move on to the South to finally get out of the country and see other ones, I stayed with Margot and Jeronimo for another night in hammock, mango degustation in front of yet another night storm, and sunrise on the sea… beautiful!
Breakfast at the sort of improvised bakery next to our campsite, proudly displaying, to my horror, a Swiss flag and one of the FC Zurich, as well as a Hopp Schwiiz scarf!! Switzerland is pursuing me across the world, I swear. Turned out the daughter of the owner fell in love with a traveling Swiss guy, got married to him, joined him in Bern, and that they now have a son who plays in the selection (don’t ask me which one, I have no clue! Football I guess. By the way I also forgot his name). Funny! But we met the parrot who lives in their palm trees, happy as kids were we.
A short hike got us out of the park to take a bus to get back to Santa Marta… before deciding to leave immediately to Minca, more to the North and in the mountain (in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta). Out of question to part before having seen a little more and know the region better! And you don’t change a winning team, and we had a very good group dynamic, doing everything we wanted without making things complicated. It’s also (and mostly) that, traveling, meeting new people and sharing a part of our personal tracks.
Minca is one of the gold mines in the world for bird lovers! Our guide explained that if Brasil comes first before Colombia for biodiversity in general, it’s the second that wins for bird-related biodiversity. We had the chance to observe a lot of those flying friends, among which a splendid tucan (more or less the main attraction for the standard traveler coming around), even if we didn’t all that’d be possible seeing with a more strategic area (higher in altitude compared to our tour starting from the town).
We slept in a hostel lost in the heights of the mountain, accessible only through a mud track requiring 40 min of motocross with a local (with the risk to fall in the mud for the least lucky). But the destination is worth the path! Very pretty view, along with a feeling of nature and a bit of family life (meals are shared altogether at the same time), a nice (but short) break spent in part chatting in giant hammocks or around a timid fire (not my fault, the scout I was can swear, we did everything we could!). Nice hike down to get back to civilisation, cool last moments together – among which the tasting of the best empanada of the country (fritters usually just stuffed with meat, but this one was a delicious and unforgettable mix of chicken with veggies for a perfectly achieved flavour).
And that’s it, in about a week we went from jungle, to desert, to beach and mountain! Isn’t that cool? The greatest was however to meet my Belgian and German friends, and the beautiful moments spent together. I spoke rather little Spanish during those days, but it felt really good to spend a longer period with the same people, really get to know each other, and going beyond the usual traveler small talk (“where do you come from, how long are you traveling for, what have you seen?” and then it sort of stays at that). Really great! But then I was happy to have some time to myself, among other things I also took a bus to Bucaramana (between Santa Marta and Bogota, more or less to the center-East) and the trip lasted for 12 hours. Me-time to get over this intense period of group life!
Next steps: Bucaramanga, last days in Bogotá, Cali, Ipiales and its cathedral, then Ecuador!
Click here for more pictures of San Andrés, la Ciudad Perdida, Palomino, Camarones, and click there for more pictures of la Guajira, Tayrona, Minca! Warning: they are many
