Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Medellin, city of eternal spring

After the bone shattering bus trip to Tolu we thought we were getting good at dealing with the bus journeys. But the forecasted 10hrs that turned into a 13hr drive from Tolu to Medellin, high in the Colombian hills, that was something else entirely. Firstly, all Colombian bus drivers are bonkers, over taking a semi trailer, on a blind corner doing 90kms an hour, halfway up a steep mountain with cliffs below, in the pouring rain, thats normal. This was all of the above, with added mudslides on every other bend, torrential rain, and thick fog. Lucky it eventually got dark. We ascended a pass so fast we both got dizzy. And for some unknown reason all buses keep the air con on so high that the locals all climb aboard with thick blankets and woolly hats.
The landscape we drove through was lush enough to take our minds off it all though. We followed the Rio Magdelena and its rushing flood waters for miles. It was delightful to finally arrive in Medellin, named the city of eternal spring, with is mild weather and districts laid out in the center of a huge valley. So far it has been one of our favourite places. Some of the hills are so steep they use cable cars, a great way to see the city.
Colombian artist Fernando Botero's huge art works
















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Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Los Nevados National Park

This wild and beautiful place was so stark and stunned all of our senses. We drove from the lush subtropical valleys of Manizales up into the national park and were instantly blown away by the chilling winds and fresh air. The landscape goes from grassy plains to moonscapes to snow capped peaks. We went up from 2600m to 4800m in just over an hour, chewing coca leaves like adventurous cows the whole way in an attempt to combat the altitude sickness which creeps in at those heights. Los Nevados is a huge chain of volcanoes, the beginnings of the Andes.  In 1985 Nevado del Ruiz exploded wiping out entire villages. We had hoped to reach the top of one of its craters, but since its started to act up again last year, it has been put onto a Yellow Alert, so no craters for us. On the way down we swam in mineral rich thermal pools, steam rising as torrential rain fell all around - the perfect way to get over the cracking head aches we had from the sudden loss of altitude.








Wild Arnica


Volcanic ash dunes








4800m and freezing
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Monday, November 28, 2011

Tolu and Islas de San Bernardo



After quite a debate about whether we should go to Playa Blanca, the perfect white beach just an hour from Cartagena by boat, or to Tolu, the small town quite a way off the 'gringo trail', 3hrs west, and our sense of adventure won out and off to Tolu we went. It became apparent half an hour in that we may have made the wrong choice. Bone shattering, the only way to describe the road to Tolu. Not so much road as series of giant holes strung out by mud, with military check points inbetween. All around us flood waters were rising, we passed a whole semi trailer over turned in a lagoon, several men half heartedly trying to rescue it by hand. But once we arrived we were swayed into liking the charming little town. With no taxi's, the locals just use a series of bicycles decked out with huge parasoles, blaring music and contraptions that allow them to ferry up to 9 people at a time.

Off the coast of Tolu there are the Islas de San Bernardo. A series of near perfect sounding islands that you can explore and stay on. The only way to get to them is to pay for a tour and get off at the island you want. So we got off on Isla Palma, it had an 'ecopark' and you could stay in tree houses. It was obvious from the moment we set foot on the island that we had made a mistake. The majority of the tiny palm tree and mangrove filled island was privately owned by a resort, and we could not trespass. The 'ecopark' was a series of horrible wooden cages just behind the tree line, in which an array of miserable, wet animals survived. A lonely rabbit, one seriously bored looking water buffalo, some lathargic racoons, a squadron of flamingos with their heads firmly stuck underwater, a tame spider monkey named Rebecca and by far the saddest and most depressing, a pair of dolphins, a shark and two huge sea turtles all kept in seperate tiny pools. If they hadn't looked like they each weighed 200kgs, we would have staged a midnight turtle rescue mission. It was horrific.


The tree house was almost derelict, filled with a collection of very unsettling african masks and animal statues, millions of mosquitos waiting in the unfinished bathroom, ready to attack us as soon as we were in a vulnerable position. The rats that we had spied while getting ready for bed ate our soap during the night. The only way to reach this residence was to walk along a dark and partially underwater path, past all the cages. We would have left immediately if there had been a boat. But we were stranded. And it took a lot of frantic organising to get us off the next day instead of 2 days later as orginally planned.

Once we resumed the tour we reached the tiny Santa Cruz del Islote, the most densely populated island in the world. No actual piece of land in sight, no green, just shacks made of corrugated iron. Then onto Isla Mucura, which was almost what we had expected, white beaches, palm thatched huts, and coral reefs. Within seconds we had been seated at a table in the sand, brought drinks, orders taken and we had by far one of the best meals of our trip. Freshly caught lobsters, BBQ'd to perfection, served simply with coconut rice and plantain. We had finally found a little bit of paradise.

But the adventure wasn't over yet. Just to really confound us, on the boat trip back, in the middle of the open ocean the captain suddenly makes us stand up, and from under our seat he pulls a huge rifle, and casually he hurles it into the waves. Never have we been so relieved to reach dry land.








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Thursday, November 24, 2011

Cartagena, crown jewel of Colombia




A hectic bus ride west from Santa Marta across a flat expanse of endless tidal marshlands. Tiny poverty stricken fishing villages dotting the horizon, all made of black plastic and wood, knee deep in mud and rubbish. After a tyre blowout and bus change we eventually arrived in Cartagena. Possibly should have done our homework better, the average yearly temperature is 30oC. It was swealtering. Our hostel, El Viajero, one of the few large scale chains we've stayed in, was seriously lacking in the pool department. But the air con kept us alive.

Cartagena's old town is beautiful. Streets of brightly painted houses, boganvillea clad balconies, horse drawn carriages, lush green squares that once hosted the slave markets. We braved the heat and climbed to the old fortress, hunched over in a labyrinth of tunnels and enjoying the breeze on the ramparts. After losing ourselves several times in the winding streets, we found the Palacio de la Inquisicion. A very haunting building that from the 15th century held the trials of heretics, for the crimes of magic, witchcraft and blasphemy. Truely terrifying implements of torture on display.

We ate well, fabulous seabass ceviche and an old school 80's style prawn cocktail, grilled local lobsters, and mangoes cut up on the side of the street to order.













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