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Published: July 16th 2008
Colombia!
Last year when a group of travelers I met told me I had to go to Colombia I let out a small laugh and said something like, "What for? To sample the coffee and get kidnapped"? "No", they said, "You really need to go to Colombia". "All right, whatever" I said, "Next year I'll go to Colombia". And boy am I glad I came, after being here for nearly four weeks I'm not to sure where to start; how about with one of the most beautiful national parks I have been to.
Parque Nacional Tayrona
The Caribbean coast of Colombia is a landscape of contrasts. Colourless gray shale mountains meet a tourquise green sea. Underneath the surface bright coral is surrounded by many types of creatures from large parrotfish to seaturtles. The currents are strong enough while diving that it isn't necessary to swim, you are whisked along at a pace similar to jogging. Further along the coast the land is backed by jungle and white sand beaches are dotted with massive boulders.
From the coastal city of Santa Marta I caught an hour and a half bus to the entrance for the park. This is
where I met a nice english couple, Rich and Caz, and we walked into the park together. After a two hour walk there is a place where you can sleep in hammocks and buy food. I also ran into some other travelers from the month before so had some good company for the three days of exploring the place. There's also the country's only nude beach in the park but I didn't go there except for once by accident because a three hour hike through the jungle left me on the far side of the beach. I thought about hiking back but in the end just kept my head down. Once I got back to Santa Marta it was time to start organizing a trip to a place known as the lost city.
Ciudad Perdida, aka the Lost City
The story goes something like this: In the 1970's a local kid stumbled upon a set of stairs deep in the jungle that led twelve hundred steps up to an ancient lost city. Word of the discovery got out and the site quickly became a the scene of fierce fighting between gravediggers and looters who were after the gold
and emeralds. The kid who had discovered the place met an unfortunate fate when he later returned to see if he could get his hands on some of the treasure. Until recently the area was controlled by paramilitary groups so it was tough to access. Now though the government has a firm hold on the area and it is one of the countries most popular treks, groups go almost every other day.
It's a hike through thick jungle and plenty of mud, the trail climbs up and over two mountains, there is eight river crossings which need to be timed because the rivers swell when it rains. It's meant to take three days there and three back but our group banged it off in five days. On the third day across a river and up the bank a few feet is the beginning of the stairs. After sweating your way up you are in the lost city, which pictures don't do any justice to. They are not as impressive as other ruins but what makes them so great is the isolation and mythical setting. They are basically just stone terraces, a hundred and fifty of them, carved into the
mountain that timber structures stood on at one time.
In our group was a Colombian woman, her son and daughter, a guide, and a cook. All in all it was a great hike and I would highly recommend it if you're ever in the area. The Colombian family, especially the son and daughter, spoke good english so they were able to relay all the info the guide had on the area. There was lots of fun stuff to do such as some vines our guide knew of that were good for swinging on out over a hillside. We saw a few animals like a small snake and some big birds and the guidebook said something about guerrillas in the area but we didn't get to see any. The family was heading back south after the trip and since I was to they invited me out for a night of dancing in the clubs with their cousins in Bucaramanga.
A big night out in Bucaramanga
Colombians sure know how to party and no trip here would be complete without at least a few nights out on the town. So we went out, had a good night, the locals
drink a spirit called aguardiente like there's no tomorrow. I went to buy a round of drinks but was informed that as a guest in their city I was not to buy anything, comprendo I said. So the next morning I stumbled down to the bus station, but not before buying some of the local specialty, giant fried ants. I was now on my way to the outdoorsy town of San Gil where I planned to do some stuff outdoors and spend three days.
My seven days in San Gil
So in the small town of San Gil there's a hostel run by an Australian who has a tonne of info on stuff to do in the area. Also there's a binder where other guests leave info on stuff they have done. It was in the back pages of this binder that an English couple had left their account of a hike along an old Spanish paved road that linked small towns in the area. It sounded like a bit of an adventure and an Australian girl who I had met and planned on hiking with later was keen to go so I figured it would be
a good chance to see if she was up to my fitness level.
So off we went at seven the next morning and hopped on a bus a half hour to the small town of Villanueva where we couldn't find the trail for the life of us. We asked a girl standing in a doorway if she knew where it was but she only gave a confused shrug. Then an older hefty lady with bare leathery feet and a meat cleaver in her hand stepped out and bellowed that we just had to follow this road straight even after it ended and we would find the trail, just ask the farmers she hollered with a smile as we walked away. So we followed it until we eventually hit another small town with a small school sitting on the edge of a canyon, a canyon so big it's the size of the grand canyon except green instead of red. As we passed the school the teacher came running out after us and explained that he was so pleased we came to find the spanish trail, the area is so beautiful he said, especially the ghost town of Jordan at the
bottom.
So we followed the trail for four hours as it switch backed down into the canyon, we had been warned that the temperature usually reached forty degrees in the afternoon and that there was no shade. Luckily I had bought a large sombrero for a few dollars before we left town, I had to cut it so it would fit my head though. Once at the bottom of the canyon we followed a raging river to the abandoned town of Jordan(that j sounds like an h). All the buildings are just the way people left them, their doors swing on their sides. Some have bushes growing in them, some are used as cow stables by local dairy farmers who still inhabit the canyon. Further along the main street we peak into a house with the front door open, the house is completely empty except for a tv on a box in the corner and two farmers sitting on drink crates in the other corner watching the news. They don't look up until I ask if they happen to sell coke here, one looks up and smiles and wanders into a back room and brings back two cold glass
ghost town jordan
house prices are up 3 fold in one year. now about a thousand bucks each.bottles of coke and puts them on the table without saying anything. Then he goes back to watching the news and we drink the cokes. When we're done I ask him how much they cost and he says two thousand pesos so I hand over the dollar twenty five and he smiles then points us in the right direction and says we can make it out of the canyon in two hours by horse.
So we begin the climb up the old spanish stone road up and up and up and after two hours by foot we arrive in the town of Los Santos sweaty and tired but doing well. From here it's a four hour minivan/bus ride around the canyon to get back to San Gil, theres only one seat left which is given to the Australian girl then luckily they squeeze me into the second row between two women of pure Colombian beauty, I'm telling you this country is amazing. The remaining days in San Gil were spent doing all sorts of stuff, there's huge waterfalls, many swimming holes, rivers to raft. Last night I took a night bus to the city of Medellin, where I am
now. It's called the city of eternal spring and seems pretty nice. It was the home of Pablo Escobar's cartel back in the day and I might go see his grave tomorrow, not to pay my respects or anything, just to see it. Then I'll find somewhere where I can study spanish for a bit.
The biggest danger is wanting to stay
You need to be careful what you read when deciding where to travel otherwise you wouldn't want to step out your front door. Before you listen to a travel agent that tells you its in the list of no go zones ask him or her if they've ever been. Places change; in Colombia's case the government of the past six years has really clamped down on rebel groups and now controls allot more of the country. Street violence does occur, just like in the rough parts of cities in Canada and America, but probably less so than in most other developing nations, kidnapping is the least of your worries. So if you can get your head around that then its a great place to travel. You really need to go to Colombia!
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anonymous
non-member comment
cool trip. I'm about to go there next week. Many people have told me that im crazy to go down there but the truth is, this people have never been there. Post more pics if you can and happy travels!