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Published: March 31st 2010
01 - Torré del Reloj
Here's a quiz: There's something wrong with the clock face. Do you see what it is? Answers on a postcard (or the electronic equivalent)Thursday morning I awoke and showered. I caught sight of my back in the mirror - I was peeling so badly that it looked as though somebody had taken a huge bunch of dried white flowers and prit-fixed them to my back. I was shedding skin like a snake. Urggghhhh..
I breakfasted and finally got into town at about 11am. It was a warm day already.
Myriam (the owner of the hostel) had given me some literature about Popayán which included a map. Apparently my best bet was to head to Parque Caldas (which serves as the central plaza of the town) and basically wander from there.
So I called a cab (it's a 15 minute ride from my hostel to the center) and headed into the old town.
The first thing to strike you about the old town is that it's very...white! All of the buildings are whitewashed (apart from a couple). It's similar in feel to Barichara in that respect - although it's a lot busier.
The central Parque is pedestrianised (at least it has been whenever I've been there) during the day - although police barriers prevent automobile access (rather than there being any sort of
permanent barrier) so I suspect that this may not always be the case.
First things first - head for a coffee and check out my map of the area - try to get my bearings. Fortunately (and unsurprisingly) there is a Juan Valdez cafe in the center of the eastern side of the square. A double espresso and bottle of water later and I was ready to hit the road.
I started (as I frequently do) with a wander around the main square itself. I've become used to the main square in every town being named after Símon Bolívar so was surprised that this one was named after a chap called Caldas. I've since learned that he was another "Liberator" - I really should learn more about the history of this continent! I need a sort of Idiot's Guide to the Colonization and Subsequent Liberation of South America - if anybody knows of such a thing, please let me know...
As I said before, the town is white. It's really white. It's so white that, in the sun, you're forced to put on your sunglasses to stop you from getting a headache. Parque Caldas itself is a small
maze of shrub-lined walkways forming a sort of Union Jack shape with benches dotted frequently along the pavements. At the center sits a bronze statue of Caldas himself. And towering overhead giant palm trees (and other, less towering trees) offer protection from the sun.
Surrounding the Parque is a wide (pedestrianised) road / pavement. The Catedral Basílica sits on the south side of the square with the clock tower (Torré del Reloj) a bit further along. There's something wrong with the clock face of the Torré del Reloj. I confess that I didn't notice it - it had to be pointed out to me. Can you spot what's wrong?
The rest of the square is predominantly dominated by banks and public offices (from what I can gather).
There was a tremendous noise coming from the Cathedral and, when I tried to look in, I couldn't see beyond the doorway for clergy. I have no idea what the celebration was. When I finally got in the cathedral there were just a bunch of people standing around having their photographs taken with various robed individuals.
My next task was to find the tourist office which is located (if I remember correctly)
04 - Catedral Basílica
...from a more usual angle on Cra 5 #4-something.
They were very helpful and gave me a more useful map than the one that I had and a bilingual tourist guide (which, oddly, didn't contain a map). They also spent some time manually scribbling out a host of things that there are to do in the surrounding area - a volcano, hot springs, small towns nearby and that sort of thing.
So the second thing that you notice about Popayán (after its whiteness) is that it has a LOT of churches. You'd be hard pushed to walk for more than 3 minutes without running into one. That's why you see a lot of churches in the pictures.
What the buildings lack in originality of frontage, they seem to make up for in terms of their courtyards. I didn't get to see that many, but it seems that they saved their artistic abilities for what lies inside the gates rather than what lies outside.
The next six hours were basically spent wandering around the old center of the town (and beyond) and checking out the buildings of interest. Most of the churches and other buildings seemed to be closed which was a bit disappointing but
I had a good time nonetheless. I stopped around the market area for a hot dog and a raspberry juice (with milk, not water...hmmmmmm)
Once I'd exhausted the churches and buildings in the immediate center, I ventured a bit further out. I saw (on my wanders around the center) that there was a church (Iglesia Belén) perched high on a hill overlooking the old town (there was also another hill with a statue on which I wanted to check out, but more on that later).
Despite the heat, I decided to attempt the hill - it was only about 50 meters up I guess. There were long steps leading from the foot of the hill to the top. And dotted along the route were each of the stations of the cross (look it up if you don't know what they are 😊.
I reached the top sticky and sweaty (default state for me these days). Hoping to find some refreshments at the top, I was disappointed. The view was pretty good but was hampered fairly considerably by the trees and shrubbery growing on the hill. I took a couple of photos and headed back down the hill.
I
stopped at the foot of the hill at a restaurant for a cool refreshing beer. The most common beer in these parts is called Poker. It's more available than Club Colombia (I believe that it's brewed in Cali which would go some way to explaining that).
I told you earlier about the other the hill that I'd seen (called El Morro de Tulcan) but I decided to leave it for another day. I walked back to the square (stopping at a cafe for a quick shot of coffee) and headed back to the hostel. I figured that I'd almost seen everything that the old city of Popayán had.
I showered and changed and rested up a bit (I
had been walking around in baking heat for 6 hours, after all). At around 7pm I called Yissel to see how she was getting on. She was still on the road and wouldn't be back in Popayán until late. But she recommended a good Italian place in town so I called a cab and headed back into town at about 8.30pm.
The restaurant was called Italiano (bit of a giveaway as to the type of cuisine). It was a
nice place. The service wasn't particularly attentive but that's something that I've become used to here - typically if you want service you need to find a novel way of catching the waiter's eye (certainly he won't be looking in your direction) or, more frequently, to get up and ask...or just shout. I find it odd (and a bit frustrating) especially since there are typically 3 waiters per customer. That wasn't the case in Italiano which actually boasted 7 customers (me included) and was almost half-full. The pizza was actually really good.
I'd checked out the guidebook before leaving and had seen that there were a couple of clubs in the next street from the restaurant. Not quite ready for the night to end, I thought that I'd check one of them out. I delayed leaving the restaurant though, because I could see through the doors that there was a street-dweller and it seemed that he was waiting for me (he was staring directly at me). Eventually the waiter approached the door and the street dweller hobbled away. I could see that, even if things got nasty, I would have speed on my side.
It was about 9.45 when
I left the restaurant and approached the first club. The doormen (who are there more to tempt you in than to act as security over here) insisted on showing me around the place. It was empty but Latin music was banging out at a ferocious volume. I don't mind sitting in a bar on my own when there's quiet background music (I actually quite enjoy it - gives me a chance to scribble my thoughts down), but there's something very sad about sitting in a bar with super loud party music when there's nobody there. So I moved onto the next club. It was the same. So I moved onto the next club. This time there were a group of four people sitting in the corner but it was a big club and it still felt empty. I asked the doorman what time it usually started and he said that by 10pm it was usually kicking off.
So I went for a wander around the nearby Parque Caldas for 15 minutes. I headed back up to the first club (it seemed the most promising of the 3) and lo and behold, there were actually some people there. I figured it'd
be ok for a quick beer so that's what I did. After a couple of beers (you can never have just one) the music had become too much for me so I skirted the other two clubs. They were still empty. So I just left. Seems like Popayán isn't the most party of party towns.
Friday, I'd arranged to meet Yissel in the Juan Valdez cafe in the center of town. She had to go to her store early in the morning so we met up at about 12. She recommended we climb the hill that I'd bottled out of the day before (El Morro de Tulcan). The climb was fairly steep but the weather was actually quite chilly so it didn't really hurt. Yissel was a little nervous - apparently this was a place where some lowlifes are known to hang out (and there were no police around). As it happened everything passed off uneventfully - I got some photos (less restricted than the ones from Iglesia Belén but the weather wasn't so good).
We headed down the hill and into a small collection of buildings known as Pueblito Patojo - a miniature re-creation of the old town
of Popayán - where local folk sold locally produced handicrafts. We had a look around but I didn't buy anything (my bag is already too full).
It was a good time for lunch (it was actually late - about 3pm) so we headed to a place called Restaurante Quijote (I think) and had a really good lunch - well, I say that it was really good but I don't actually remember what I had! I do remember that it was good though!
So, by the time we'd finished lunch it was about 5pm, I think and Yissel suggested that we headed to a place that she knew of where they sell locally produced wine. Sounded good to me.
We took a cab and headed out of the town, up a steep hill, stopping near the top. I must ask Yissel what the place is called because I didn't make note of it at the time and it's really amazing. As you enter the gate, you see a handful of tumbledown wooden buildings and a small walkway leading to three tables built into the hillside which overlook Popayán. There was nobody else around - just one person who worked (lived?)
there. He bought us out a bottle of "wine" - it was really quite sweet - like a thick orange juice...maybe it was made from oranges? We finished the bottle and eventually found the waiter (after a wander around the buildings for 5 minutes) to order another - by this stage I was fairly convinced that there wasn't actually any alcohol in the wine.
We sat and chatted for hours and drank our wine - talking about family, about work, about dreams and aspirations, about music, about books... It had been a really lovely day and to end it in such an enchanting place was perfect. We were totally alone, when we stopped speaking there was only the sound of night insects playing their percussive tunes. And as the sun set behind the distant hills, casting its glow over the city below, I couldn't think of a better place to kiss a girl...
So that's what I did.
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anita
non-member comment
kissy kissy
YES!!! :-)