Parque Nacional Cocuy

Deep in the Colombian high country, in the heart of the Parámo lies Cocuy, a small, lazy town that allows the visitor to travel back in time and enjoy the unique culture and slow pace of this oasis. After spending one night in San Gil I was persuaded to go to Cocuy National Park. The national park consists of a chain of mountains (many reaching altitudes above 5,000 meters/16,000 feet), the unique high country of the Paramo, numerous lakes, and some of South America´s last remaining glaciers. Also, due to the armed conflict between the Colombian government, paramilitaries, and the guerrila movements (F.A.R.C. and the E.L.N.), the area is virtually untouched by tourism. The situation is much safer under the Uribe government and what better time to visit this untouched paradise than now! The following is a brief outline of my 7 days in this haven...
Day 1- Finally we arrived in Cocuy at 5:30 in the morning. The bus had rumbled and wove along a single lane dirt road for 9 hours, making it impossible to sleep. However, my spirits were immediately lifted after stepping off the bus and back in time. We were surrounded by old men in ponchos and cowboy hats, ladies in dresses, a few old trucks, and gorgeous mountains. The rest of the day was for exploration, preperation, and relaxation. After purchasing a park pass, buying food, and finding a park map, we were able to fit in a short 3 hour hike to a lookout point high above Cocuy before my exhaustion got the best of me and I had to settle into bed.

Day 2- Woke up at 5:30am to catch the local milk truck (primary mode of transportation into the mountains for travelers and locals alike) into the park for our first stop along the circuit. After arriving at our accomodation with a local family high in the paramo at 3,800 meters, we set off for a hike to 4 lagunas (topping out at 4,400 meters). The family, Los Herreros, turned out to be more than accommodating. They own a small house with a kitchen, a small room for a table, their bedroom (for 3 people), and a room just big enough to squeeze two double beds for their guests. They have no hot water, electricity, or insulation, but extra generosity, amazing food, and many blankets to make up for this lack of western comforts. We ate dinner by candlelight, the mother cooked us breakfast and served hot chocolate at 4am before our big hike, and we chatted with the daughter about life in the paramo and her future hopes and dreams.

Day 3- Woke up in the darkness of 4am for a delicious breakfast of eggs, bread, cheese, and hot chocolate. At 4:30, with headlights strapped to our heads, bellies full, and every piece of clothing I owned hugging my shivering body, we set off for Pulpito Del Diablo (The Devil´s Alter). Pulpito is a staggeringly immense rock formation that juts from the mountain at 5,200 meters above sea level. It took us 4 hours to reach the base of the glacier, beyond which it was impossible to advance without ice climbing gear, moments before the 10am clouds began to creep in from the valley floor. As an aside it is worth mentioning the clouds. Instead of coming from above, they would always slowly creep up from the valley below (usually beginning to reach our heights around 10am) and begin to circle and hover the mountain tops for the duration of the day. Thus, it was necessary to begin early and descend before visability was low. We returned to our cozy adobe 9 hours and 18km after we had left with aching legs and growling stomaches. After a very nice candlelit dinner I retreated to the warmth of the wool blankets and fell asleep.

Day 4- Woke up at 5:30am in order to hike 3km to catch the morning milk truck. Transportation was always centered around the milk truck and if we didn´t catch it when it passed (very early), we would be walking a long distance to our next destination. We hopped aboard and marvelled at the passing scenery as the truck inched towards La Esperanza, stopping every few minutes to collect the neighbors milk. We arrived in La Esperanza at 8:30 and had to hurry if we were going to get a hike in. This day proved to be much harder than I had expected and we eventually reached Lagunas Grande de la Sierra after 5 hours and 11km. The height of the lake was dizzying at 4,800 meters and because of the cloud cover visibility wasn´t great. We hurried down as the sun slowly fell towards the horizen. The day concluded with a quick dinner (which I am surprised I didn´t fall asleep into) and bed.

Day 5- Finally some sleep... because we had to wait for the milk truck (we were further on the route), we slept until 7am! Next stop Cabañas Kanwara. These quant little cabins rested at 4,000 meters and were the perfect jumping off point to climb Ritacuba Blanco. However, we didn´t arrive until 10:30 or so, much to late to hike that day, so I decided to take a much needed rest day. I spent time hanging with the sheep while I caught up on some reading and writting.

Day 6- Woke up at 6am to begin the highest of all climbs, Ritacuba Blanco. The tip of the peak, which is unattainable without ice climbing gear, sits at 5,300 meters (17,400 feet). I knew from the start we couldn´t summit but wanted to hike as high as I could without gear. The hike seemed fairly easy and we made it to the snow line at about 10am and back down by 1pm. This hike was one of the most beautiful hikes in the park and we were rewarded with sweeping 360 degree views. I am guessing we reached about 5,000 meters and I found this to be physically and mentally easier than prior days. My body and mind must have become accustomed to the difficulty of climbing at altitude, which left plenty of room to enjoy the scenery.

Day 7- After days of hiking through some of Colombia´s most pristine wilderness, it was time to leave. After a huge breakfast of fruit, soup, bread, cheese, eggs, jam, and a single saltine cracker we hopped aboard a local jeep and trundled back to Cocuy.

It is hard to put into words the peacefulness and tranquility that exists here. While hiking through this paradise I felt a satisfaction and joy I haven´t felt in any other place. Horses, cows, sheep, and goats graze on surrounding hillsides. The only sound at times is the wind, a rushing river, or a glacial waterfall crashing over cliffs. Other times, nothing. No sound at all; pure silence. I cannot say enough about the generosity and warmth of the people here. My time in Colombia is winding down and I am not looking forward to leaving a place with so much spirit and heart.

Next stop Bogotá...

Santa Marta

Santa Marta was the next stop on the agenda. The plan was to stay one night in Santa Marta before continuing on to Taganga (a small fishing village) and Parque Tayrona (a beautiful national park on the Caribbean coast). However, I stumbled upon a great hostel in Santa Marta and ended up staying 2 weeks. The dreamers hostel is owned by a gregarious Italian and is located in the Mamatoco neighborhood of Santa Marta, away from the city center and main tourist attractions, but very close to everything via bus (30 min. to the entrance of Parque Tayrona, 10 min. to the center of Santa Marta, 20 min. to Taganga, etc.). I made friends with the neighbors, met some great travelers, and found it very hard to leave. From this central base I explored numerous different beaches (including Parque Tayrona for 2 nights), scuba dove in Taganga, checked out the hustle and bustle of central Santa Marta, traveled to Baranquilla to enjoy the culture and parties of Carnaval, and hiked in the quant inland village of Minca.

Rather than describe these two weeks in detail I decided it is better to focus on the highlights; the first being the people and culture of the coast. Here I observed a much different vibe; a more laid back, friendly, talk now and work later atmosphere. On one occasion I struck up a conversation with the park maintenance man after he offered the park hose so I could wash my feet free of sand from the beach. After 1o minutes of choppy spanish conversation the gentleman invited me to his house for a lunch of fish and a game of street futbol. Unfortunately, when I went to meet him that Sunday in the park I failed to find him and thus missed out on this experience; but the simple fact I was invited to his house after 10 minutes of conversation is a great example of the generosity and openness of Colombians.

Another aspect of the culture I have grown to enjoy immensely is the chaos of the street markets. Imagine the complete opposite of peace and quite. Sellers line the streets for numerous blocks and hawk their goods to passerbye. Clothes, backpacks, crafts, artisan goods, pirated movies for 50 cents, food stands, fresh juice stands, and all the junk you can imagine. My absolute favorite aspect of Santa Marta was the fresh juice. For 1 dollar you can buy a custom made juice blended with either milk or water and two fruits of your choice. This, accompanied by a fresh Patacon (pressed and fried plantain filled with meat, potatoes, rice, cheese, and vegetables) for 35 cents, makes a fabulous lunch.

The second highlight was Parque Tayrona. This national park, one of many in Colombia, is known for it´s beautiful beaches. I spent 3 days and 2 nights hiking to different beaches of the park, swimming, and sleeping in a hammock on the beach.


Last, but certainly not least, was the Carnaval of Baranquilla. Carnaval consists of many parades, parties, and celebrations leading up to the Catholic period of Lent. It takes place in many different places, with Baranquilla being the second largest of Latin America next to Brazil. Due to the fact I was a 2 hour bus journey from Baranquilla I couldn´t miss it. The accomodation I thought I had arranged in Baranquilla fell through at the last minute, so I decided to take a bus in the morning and stay as long as I could into the night before taking a bus back to Santa Marta to sleep. I headed off with a few friends, with no plan and no idea what to expect...

What turned out to be a great day, turned into an even better night. Initially we found the parade and watched for a few minutes under the heat of the sun before we were escorted by police officers to the front row under the shade of a canopy. They told us it was safer and because of the tremendous upgrade we did not argue. From here we enjoyed the parade, met the locals around us, had shaving cream battles with the kids, and enjoyed delicious sausages that a local lady we had just met purchased for us. Afterwards, one of the locals we met during the parade invited us to his barrio for a night full of partying and dancing in the street.

He was the perfect host; after taking us to the best street stand for food, we walked through the streets lined with party after party. Each block had huge speakers blasting cumbia, bachata, and salsa into the night. As we walked the songs changed but the atmosphere and celebrations of the people stayed the same. We settled on his block and chatted and danced the night away. At about 1 or 2 in the morning one of the neighbors brought piping hot soup out for everyone and the dancing continued. Finally, at 6am the next morning we caught a bus back to Santa Marta for some much needed sleep. Overall, I had a great time in Santa Marta, but after two weeks it was time to leave...

Medellin, Cartagena, Santa Marta

After leaving the beautiful countryside of Salento I headed for the sprawling city of Medellin. What was once Colombia´s drug capital and home of the infamous Pablo Escobar, is now a reconstructed, modern city, surrounded by lush green hills (as much of Colombia´s sourther territory is), and temperate weather. I didn´t spend much time in Medellin, but what did catch my eye was the contrast between the city center, with it´s many extravagent churches and large commercial centers, and the outlying low income neighborhoods. Medellin has an efficient subway system connecting these two very different areas and the government recently completed an extension to reach the furthest areas of the surrounding neighborhoods by way of cable car (think gondola in Vail or Beaver Creek). The cable car serves two purposes: it connects people in the outer regions to the center, and offers fabulous views from high atop the hills that guard Medellin. From this unique vantage point the rider has a birds eye view of everything. Beyond the obvious differences of rich and poor (size of houses, worksmanship, materials, the proximity of each house to it´s neighbors, distance to the city center, etc.), if you look closely, there exists many subtle differences. In the ¨poor¨ areas I observed a rich culture full of music, camaraderie amoung inhabitants, children playing futbol in the street, friends passing the day together, and a slower pace of life. In the ¨rich¨areas I witnessed a much faster pace; sellers hawking thier goods in the streets, business men rushing to appointments, tourists strolling the streets, and a general sense of a pressing need to get somewhere or do something. I am not implying one form of life is better than the other, only describing my observations.

From Medellin, I flew to Cartagena, the famous city on the northern Caribbean coast protected by walls, century towers, and cannons. It is a beautiful, romantic city, fortified against attacks from thieves and pirates in search of treasure. I wandered through the streets in amazement trying to invision being under siege. I was content being safe and instead sipped fresh mango juice and watched local women sell fruit from large metal bins they carried on their head.

Most recently, I have spent many days relaxing on beaches, sipping fresh juice, eating great food, and learning many new things about culture, people, life, the world, and most importantly my self. I have a feeling it will be hard to leave Colombia, but until then I will enjoy it to the fullest!

Life in paradise (La vida en paraiso)...