Colombian days

 

 

 

I spend my first days in South America in Cartagena, the port town where the boat arrives. Although my first impressions are unwelcoming, typical of busy port towns that act as a gateway to a continent, I enjoy wandering around the city and having a few beers on land and getting comfortable with the new surroundings. During the Spanish era Cartagena served as the principal trade and slave port and it's said to be one of the most beautiful cities in South America. The nights in the old town give an atmosphere of old Europe. Arriving on a long weekend means I have to hang around a extra few days to get through the drawn out customs clearance before meeting the majority of the sailboat group further along the coast in Santa Marta ready for a short trek into the popular Tayrona National Park.  

 

 

 

The beaches here at Tayrona are stunning, I take my tent in and camp for the first time in a while and soak up some lazy days along the beaches and recharge the body before finally leaving the Caribbean sea after following and returning to its shores for months. 

From my first days in Colombia, the place seems a paradox of sorts, 'it's very political, very complicated' I'm told by several locals. A historical backdrop of violence and tragedy set amongst streets full of gentleness, a genuine friendliness and dancing. A street guide in Medellin tells us that Colombians have short memories, if not they couldn't smile and dance so happily and free with all that they've endured. The system is fuelled by corruption yet the police saturate the streets and patrol the highways. The disparity of wealth is pretty clear when riding, the cities and bigger towns look quite comfortable, then there's the shanty towns along some of the highways and the sleepy uninspiring villages.  

 

It's history is a story of war, bloodshed and tradegy – the Spanish conquest, the fight for independence, the 50 year civil war between guerrillas, paramilitaries, and the army and the drug fuelled violence of the 80’s and 90’s . The Spanish arrived in 1499, setting up a colony containing indigenous communities, Spanish invaders and African slaves. By the 17^th century there were more slaves than indigenous Americans here. Bogota became the capital of the Spanish New World kingdom in 1717.

 

Simon Bolivar, El Libertador, the independence hero of Colombia, Ecuador, Venezuela and Bolivia leads battles against Spanish troops in northern South America for several years and eventually conquers and founds the Republic of Colombia in 1819. He abandons his presidency a decade later, gambles his money away and died of tuberculosis shortly after. Since independence Colombia has suffered unceasing civil wars and revolutions, the US take advantage of the infighting at the turn of the 20^th century and set Panama, then a Colombian province independent in order to build and control the canal.

Although the coffee trade brings an economic boom the past century involves more civil wars, divided citizens and a military intervention. In an attempt to stabilize society and curb the violence, the two parties agreed to share power for a 16 year period in the 50’s and 60’s, alternating presidency every four years, disallowing any other party from entering and therefore sowing the seeds for the Leftist insurgents and the emergence of the FARC amongst other lesser known guerilla groups. What began as a voice for the exploited indigenous and working class in the countryside aiming to redistribute land and wealth more than five decades ago, the Marxist rebel groups are now blamed for preventing the nation’s development. Their socialist ideals are contradicted with kidnappings and their involvement in the cocaine trade which funds their cause and activities, exploiting those they set out to protect.     

 A recent battle, just another, involves the boom of global cocaine demand and with it the rise of Pablo Escobar in the 1980’s. At a wealth of over $20 billion he had enough power to be voted into the senate and even offered to pay off the country’s entire foreign debt. The coca leaf only grows in Colombia, Peru and Bolivia, in the high elevation, temperate climate of the Andes. Colombia is again the biggest producer of the processed drug which is increasingly demanded by the developed West. Of the two tours I took in Medellin, the underlying result of cocaine production is that Colombia gets the short end of the stick in many ways. The trade funds the guerilla movement here and sustains the continual violence and terrorism, its lucrative opportunities keeps rival gangs killing and murdering each other and as the demand increases, the U.S. offers more military aid and puts more and more pressure on the Colombian government to eradicate the growth of the coca leaves, resulting in spraying vast areas of Andean land and destroying crops and damaging soils in its path, affecting the livelihood of the farmers. The farmers are then push towards involvement in the drug to sustain themselves as agriculture becomes more at risk.

Nowadays, the drug violence seems to have reduced and is less publicized, the FARC presence is pushed more and more into the jungles and their support is dropping but peace agreements with the government are continually stalled. It's a colourful history and a colourful people. 
 

 

Within a couple days of leaving the travelling group and northern coast I reach the mighty Andes, the longest mountain range in the world, a 7,200km long stretch along the entire length of South America. It's the backbone of the continent, home to active volcanoes, cloud forests, snow capped peaks, high altitude desert plains, home to the most biodiverse habitat and some of the most hostile environments on earth. It's a real joy to ride amongst giants and deep valleys. 
 

 
By the time I reach Medellin I'm ready for rest from the curves, ascents and crazy Colombian truck drivers and car drivers willing to overtake on blind corners. I check in to a busy hostel and find a few of the sailing group staying there, along with Simon, Clare, Lui and Liana who are staying nearby. There's a triumph dealership here, the first for a long while so I visit the shop, meet Octavio and leave Sixto for a service in good hands. Medellin leaves a great impression, I take a couple tours through the town, learning of the rapid changes happening, ride the cable car up to the so called slums and enjoy the nightlife of a modern and vibrant place and wonder how a city can have so many beautiful women.  It's a huge improvement from the big cities of Central America, the streets have a real pulse and progressive mood. It has won recent awards from most innovative global city and stands proud in the great strides its made since its dark, infamous days of the early 90's when it was one of the most dangerous and murderous cities around.  

Octavio (centre) did a great job with Sixto and invited me on a ride with the local Triumph riders over the mountains and into the countryside on a Saturday afternoon where he was representing at a motorbike expo.    

We have a barbeque lunch and I get to know a friendly bunch of guys and discuss my trip and bike stories. Sixto even gets himself showcased at the Triumph stand. The foreign plate gets me discussing many curious questions.

 

Sharing Medellin nights with Lui and Liana

 

 

Now back on my own for the first time in a few weeks, I head towards Salento, the main tourist town in the coffee zone, as all coffee growing regions, slightly elevated, the weather is temperate and the hills roll on into the distance. I find this gem of a farm hostel nestled away in the hills outside of town and set up the tent for a few nights, meeting a variety of interesting travelers from all over the place. 

As soon a I arrive I meet Johnny, a volunteer at the farm who asks me to get involved in the lunch he is being taught by Mariangela, an older Colombian women working there. The dish is called Mondongo, a traditional tripe soup. We head off to town to get the ingredients and take orders on cutting vegetables etc., as it slowly cooked away the smell reminds me of nights when Mum would add tripe to pasta sauce for Dad when we I was younger. With so many other ingredients the tripe taste wasn't too overpowering and finished up rather well.

 

 

The nearby Valley of Cocora took me on a five hour hike through some damp cloud forests, crossing waterfalls and rivers, watching some hummingbirds over some aguapanela, sugar cane tea served with a soft cheese and finally through this picturesque, silent valley with the national palm trees scattered between the mountains. 

 

 

 

 

To finish off my time in Salento I wondered down to Don Elias' property where he gave tours of his coffee plants and demonstrated the process of coffee production at a small scale level. He was a delightful man who was very proud of his patch of the world, the quality of his coffee and organic, old-school way of life.