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)...

Colombia!!

Baños was a great place, and although the volcano eluded me the four days I was in its shadow, I caught a glimpse of it´s smoking cone while I ascended north out of town. Supposedly (still uncomfirmed), the volcano erupted two days after I left. I recounted my luck of having stood at the refuge (at the base of the summit) just four days prior to the eruption with all the confidence in the world as I listened to the lava crackle and spit above me.

Since my arrival in South America I have toyed with the idea of going north to Colombia, an enchanting country with a dark side (which is mostly enhanced through the media). I had already began my travel south from Quito, but something kept pulling me back to Colombia. Whether it was the good reports from fellow travelers, my curiosity, or my proximity to the country, I decided to find out for my self what all the fuss was about and head north...

On my way to Colombia I made a quick pit stop in Quilotoa. I am unsure if one can even classify Quilotoa as a town, but it´s stunning beauty and enchantment draws visitors, and therefore it consists of some hostels and a few small tiendas. The majority of visitors are drawn by the large crater lake formed by the eruption of Quilotoa many years ago (the volcano now lies dormant). The views are majestic and the natural peace this place conjurs is unmatched. It was hard to leave, but my journey had to continue onward.

Quilotoa Lake at Sunrise

While journeying away from Quilotoa I could not help but notice the basic state of living on the hills and countryside surrounding the lake. I don´t like to use the word ¨poverty¨ because poverty implies a sense of desperation and unhappiness and from what I could tell these people had farms, animals, and although they worked very hard, always seemed to have a smile and presence of happiness. However, they did live in huts made of mud and grass from the earth and worked all day in the fields. I noticed that many age very quickly but retain a certain beauty only the land can supply. The women wear beautifully stitched dresses and traditional hats and to my amazement most wore high heals. As I stared out the window of my passing bus, in my security and comfort, I realized how different my existence is from these people. Not for better or worse, just different. After a full day and a half of traveling I was in Colombia and enjoying beautiful mountain scenery as our bus meandered north...

On my way north in Colombia I made a few short stops in Popayan and Cali. Popayan has the look and feel of a colonial town. It has whitewashed buildings and bustling streets. I was lucky and showed up the day of Popayan´s birthday celebration, which meant live music, crowded streets, great food, and fireworks. My first night in Colombia was a success! Next stop Cali... A city of 2.5 million residents, famous for salsa and plastic surgery. Unfortunately, the salsa clubs were at half speed during the week, but the plastic surgery was in full swing.

Finally, I made a longer stop in Salento, a small town in the coffee region. It was one of the most beautiful places on my journey and I filled my days with a perfect mixture of hiking and relaxing.

Coffee region

Just a normal afternoon

Feast for breakfast

Famous wax palms which only grow in this region

Although Colombia is a country that has been torn by constant turmoil and bloodshed, the natural beauty of the landscape and the people have endured and still offer the warmth of their presence and the strength of their hearts. They are as resilient as the coffee that grows in the region. I am in constant wonderment about the contrast between the beautiful landscapes and generous people of Colombia and the dark shadow of drugs and war.

New Year, Otavalo, and Baños

As I mentioned in my last post, I returned to Quito for the New Year celebration. Unfortunately, I was sick and stayed awake just long enough to ring in the New Year, then returned home to get some much needed sleep. However, I was able to enjoy the different traditions of the Quiteños before my early departure to my bed. One such tradition is the burning of muñecos. During the week preceding the last day of the year, the people of Ecuador are busy preparing wooden and paper dummies of presidents, politicians, and famous celebrities from around the world. On the 31st of December, there are parades, music, plenty of food, and everyone floods the streets to celebrate the close of the old year. At midnight, the muñecos are set on fire in the streets and bystanders can wander through town witnessing hundreds of small bonfires burning symbolic figures while fireworks explode in the sky. It is quite a site and it occured to me while I strolled the streets how illegal this practice would be in the US. The other tradition of interest, but with less rationality, is what I term the transexual tradition. Every nuevo año men dress up as women and prevent passing cars from crossing their path unless the driver pays a small fee. I don't understand the reasioning behind this, but everyone seems to go along with the tradition and quietly pays the fee as they pass.



On the first of January I headed to Otavalo, a small market driven town 2 hours north of Quito, to enjoy the weekend in the beautiful northern mountains of Ecuador. Every Saturday in Otavalo hundreds of vendors flood into town to sell their goods to locals and foreigners in one of the biggest markets in Ecuador. You can buy anything from wool sweaters made from Alpaca to instruments, blankets, fruit, and numerous trinkets. It is quite a spectacle and entertaining if only to stroll the aisles and make small talk with the vendors. After experiencing the market, we were able to hire a taxi for the 45 minute journey to a nearby alpine lake called Laguno Mojando. From there, I summited a peak called Fuya Fuya, which is just under 14K feet. I felt it took much less effort than a 14K foot mountain normally would in Colorado, which is probably due to my acclimitization in Quito. The area was gorgeous and a perfect way for me to ring in the New Year in South America!



Now I am in Baños, another mountain town known for its outdoor sports and thermal baths (from the active volcano of Tungarahua). My first day I rented a mountain bike for $5 for the whole day and rode downhill for 20 kilometers to view 5 different waterfalls. It was an amazing trip and we stopped off in a small town for a wonderful lunch of freshly caught trout and rice. Yesterday we rented bikes again, hired a truck to drive us up to the base of Tungarahua, and hiked 4 hours to the refuge at 3,800 meters (the refuge lies at the base of the active volcano of Tungarahua). Unfortunately, it was raining and cloudy the whole time so we could not see the lava spewing from the top, but we could hear the consistent rumble of volcanic activity. It was a surreal experience, especially being able to hear the sound so close. After our descent, we rode our bikes down a steep dirt track back to Baños. It has been raining for three days, but I have still managed to do some great hikes and activities here. On to the next place!

Some Pictures from the Jungle

These are just a few of the pictures from the Jungle. The internet connection is slow, and thus the minimal amount of pictures, but I will try to post more soon.

La Selva, La Costa, y Navidad

My apologies for not posting in quite some time; I have been very busy traveling to different places in Ecuador. Two weekends ago I went on a 2 night weekend trip to the jungle with some friends. It was about 6 hours in a bus from Quito to a small jungle town called Tena, where we spent one night. The next morning we traveled by bus to Misahualli, a small village on the banks of the Rio Napo. The trip was set up through my school and they arranged a stay with an indigenous community in the heart of the jungle close to Misahualli. We arrived in the community to find numerous different animals I had never seen nor heard of before. Monkeys climbed up to greet us, while Toucans relaxed close by. We learned about all the plants the community uses in the absence of traditional doctors. Instead of a medical professional, each tribe has a Shaman who knows all the plants and their medicinal uses. If you need anything you visit the Shaman. It was fascinating to learn about a civilization that for many years existed without any contact from the outside world. Many of these tribes and their customs are only beginning to be discovered. Obviously there is a good side and a bad side to this. The positive aspect is our ability to learn massive amounts of information from these cultures, but the negative aspect is that the depth and mystery of these native cultures is slowly decaying because of their contact with the outside world and our many luxuries. I feel blessed at having the opportunity to experience this and can only hope the money I spent will go towards preserving the culture and not eroding it.

The following week, after only two days of classes, I jumped aboard another bus headed for the beach!! It took around 7 hours to arrive in a small town called Bahia de Caraquez, from where we took a small boat to San Vicente, and another bus to an amazing secluded beach town called Canoa. We found a perfect hostel on the beach and settled in for 5 glorious days. The main activity each day was to relax, but I was able to ride a horse on the beach one day and attempt to surf. It was a beautiful spot where all the locals surf by day and party on the beach by night. I spent Christmas in Canoa and the hostel even made a traditional turkey feast for the guests. It was my first Christmas on the beach, and although I missed my family and friends back home, I was happy to spend Christmas in such a beautiful place. By the end of my time in Canoa I had become accustomed to the slower pace of life and didn't want to leave.

Tonight is the celebration of the Old Year here (instead of celebrating the New Year, they celebrate the Año Viejo) in Quito and I am looking forward to witnessing the many traditions of the Quiteños. I will write soon about the celebrations and post pictures when I have some time.