Trek to the Lost City

After all the excitement in Cartegena the 4 of us headed to Santa Marta on New Years Eve after Lisa had been to court to give her evidence re the attempted robbery. We left it quite late to get to the bus station and just caught the last bus to Barranquilla which we got on as the bus driver told us the buses would keep running till 9pm from Barranqilla to Santa Marta. It should have been predictable that we arrived in Barranquilla and there were no buses, so we reluctantly splashed out on a taxi to take us the rest of the 2 hour journey and arrived in Santa Marta at 11pm, just in time to see the New Year in. The place was choc-a-block full of tourists and we couldn't get a dormitory so we had to stay in the 'penthouse', as the owner called it, of Casa Familia. It was actually quite nice and we watched the fireworks from the rooftop terrace.

A couple of days later, once Tina and Lisa had recovered from the squits we set off on a 6 day trek to Cuidad Perdida. This lost city of the Tayrona Indians, who are now extinct, was only rediscovered in 1973 when a boy from the surrounding countryside found it by accident, discovered gold and showed it to his father. Word got out and there were several years of unrest as people fought for the treasures hidden there. The boy was killed there after he went back and found more gold and emeralds. Peace was only restored after a few years when the government eventually heard about it and sent in the military to guard the site that is now a National Park.

The 6 day journey was awesome, bloody hard work but awesome. We had to carry all our own belongings, unlike the trek to Machu Pichu, and I always seem to take too much with me which was a killer trying to lug it up steep ascents and treacherous descents, crossing rivers with fierce currents and clamouring up and down over huge rocks. Although I can't complain as I did score getting my bag carried for the more difficult parts. This trek is a real adventure as there is no trail and you would definitely get lost without a guide. Everyone was a bit worried at first as there were so many soldiers posted along the route but they were quite friendly, sometimes a bit too friendly as one soldier gave me his phone number after a 2 minute conversation but I had no intention of calling the buzz lightyear looky-likey.

The story in the guidebook is that cocaine is produced by the FARC guerilla group to fund their campaign but the country folk living in the cabana's where we hung our hammocks for the night told us that it was the only way they could make a reasonable living and that they actually made more money from tourists to show them the process of producing cocaine than from the cocaine itself. So off we all set off to the 'laboratory' and now we have the recipe and cooking instructions. The country folk told us that they do not use the substance themselves as they have a saying that anyone that starts using only has 1 and 1/2 years left of their lives. I think its a shame that people feel that they have to be involved in such business but in their defence they say that the government doesn't try to help them and come up with silly proposals. An example being that they were told to stop producing and in exchange were all given a rooster and a hen each. They promptly got together gathering the bonanza of hens and had a fiesta of sancocha (a colombian chicken dish). When the military turned up to check and asked where all the chickens were they claimed a fox had come in the night and ate all their chickens.

After 3 days of walking we reached the lost city and it was another 1600 steep steps built for people with size 2 feet before getting to the city proper. We spent one night and the morning taking in the spectacular views and sights before starting the journey back again. I was exhausted, everything ached and was covered in mosquito bites but returned feeling exuberant.

The girls I had travelled with and Ernest, the only guy in a group with 9 girls, left the night we got back to head south to Medellin and Bogota and I stayed in Santa Marta and then went to Cartegena for a few days before taking my flight back to San Jose. It wasn't as much fun without my companions of the last 2 weeks and it was hard fending off the hissing and chinita comments from the overly amorous latino's solo, luckily Jess, a girl from the trek turned up in Cartegena a day later. We went drinking with some fellow gringo's in the town square, and the wally's nearly got themselves arrested smoking dodgy stuff. Thankfully I have managed to leave Colombia safe and sound and am now back in San Jose, Costa Rica awaiting the arrival of Tara who has taken a month off work to travel with me for a month.

To sum it up, Colombia is a beautiful country with mostly good people some of the friendliest and most hospitable I have ever met but the ripping off of tourists was definitely more blatant and exorbitant here. But it's a place I would like to come back to and explore more off. Viva Colombia and all the fantastic Colombians I have met in my month here!!!

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