by Jane | May 31, 2014 | Colombia, My travels |
We arrived in Popayán at eight in the evening but our cab driver was unable to get us close to our hostel due to road closures. Assuming this would be because of roadworks we were amazed to discover that the entire town centre was closed off and the streets were packed with spectators who were waiting for a procession.
Me and M and now our new friend Pablo tried making our way through the crowds with me bashing small children on my head with my rucksac and M taking out toes and ankles with her humungous wheely case.
The roads were lines with police and soldiers but one eventually took pity on us and hoisting M’s case onto his shoulder opened the barricades and hustled us down the centre of the road.
Popayan at night
Feeling like penguins in a zoo as EVERYBODY watched us and still puzzled, we walked down through the middle of the roads which were edged with silent crowds four deep until our policeman eventually got us to our hostel which was just a quadra from the main plaza and on the procession route. After checking in, we were thrilled to discover that our dorm had a balcony overlooking the street, so we went out and stood there and we waited to see what on earth was going to happen.
These things are VERY heavy
Out of the dark (by now it was nine thirty pm) a drove of drummers appeared and with enough noise to raise the dead they thudded and hammered their way very slowly past us. They were followed by a brass band and squadrons of soldiers, police, and then little groups from each of the major churches in the area who were all carrying massive religious icons which had been decorated with flowers and gigantic candles. They would walk a few steps and then pause to allow the bearers to rest on long wooden poles balancing the whole thing in a very wobbly way on the ground – these things were massive – and then they would set off again. The crowds by now had lit their candles and were patiently and quietly watching. The whole thing took over two hours to pass us by, but actually it took more like five hours for them to complete the whole route of the town, snaking around and up and down the streets. The following day I saw posters which instructed any observers to observe and participate in total silence in order to preserve the spiritual and religious meaning of the occasion. The silence, apart from the drums or the bands was initially eerie, broken only by the sound of marching footsteps and the occasional organ music (organists were rather bizarrely wheeled along on little carts playing church music to accompany some of the icons).
scouts from Cali on a pilgrimage
When we finally got out exploring the town the next day we were all really pleased to discover that we had rocked up during the Semana Santa celebrations. It turned out that Popayan is renowned throughout Colombia for having the best processions which mark the death of Jesus. Like Bethlehem at his birth, there were few rooms left at the inns and those that were available were overpriced but despite this we ended up opting to stay for three nights.
an impromptu geography lesson
With Pablo we walked down to the old stone bridge and then we climbed high up to the park which overlooked the town. Here I stopped to chat to a group of scouts who were, as always, immaculately turned out in their uniforms, despite having walked over the past week from the city of Cali on a pilgrimage. We all took photos together and then we continued up to the top of the hill where there was a huge statue and lots of people milling around.
icing sugar buildings
On our hike up I had given away a tub of green mangos with salt to a group of three little girls who had been sitting on the grass, and later, whilst we were sitting in the sun and admiring the view, they came over to talk to us. We then spent half an hour chatting to the eight, nine and ten year old and we even had an impromptu geography lesson when Pablo (Picasso) drew a picture of the world and we showed them where we had all come from. Pablo was from Chile, I was from the UK and M from Poland, and whilst the girls knew where Chile was, they didn’t know about the UK or Poland. They were adorable and so interested and interesting, and as usual, it struck me how we expect people to know all about Europe or the United States, when in fact, their more important and relevant world consists of Latin America.
the children’s parade
Semana Santa week marks a major holiday in Popayan with all of the churches stuffed full of cages of icons and hordes of people flowing in and out to view them. Armies of priests were directing proceedings as every day the icons were re-decorated with a new flowery colour theme and all of the public buildings and university buildings were open with free exhibits and squadrons of volunteers manned doorways and stalls, keen to give tourists guided tours of their respective spaces.
The processions would kick off in the late afternoon with the children who carried tiny versions of the icons and then the grown up versions would begin at about eight-ish every night. People would wait patiently whilst the procession curled its way around the town, often walking alongside with their candles. The children especially must have been exhausted by the end of the week because it seemed that the entire town plus all the tourists stayed up until midnight each night. Music and dancing were supposedly banned during this time but we did find a little salsa club which turned the music up and got swinging once the tail end of the parade had passed its doors.
its tough showing tourists around your university
Popayan is a very pretty town and not the first that I have been to in South America which is called the ‘White City’ but unlike those other towns this one really does deserve that reputation. The buildings are a sparkling white and at night under the floodlights appear to be made of icing sugar. The town reminded me of a film set made for a children’s programme with its cobbled streets, little balconies and ice white churches and at every corner I expected to see some TV presenters dressed up in bright clothes or dancing teddy bears.
We had to change hostels after two nights and find another, and we did end up sharing a room in both places with the most weird American guy that I have met yet, but to give him his due he was out there travelling solo. Dorms can be strange spaces and these had extra beds crammed in to accommodate the hordes, but even so, in my mind, your own bed is sacrosanct and you do not perch on the end of somebody else’s unless invited to do so first.
At the beginning of the week a bomb had exploded by the roadside on the way into Popayan and as many of the government and high ranking officials were attending the celebrations, the place was swarming with heavily armed soldiers and police, toting big automatic machine guns. I am a firm believer that guns should be removed from communities and police forces should not be visibly armed such as in the UK but it is very strange how quickly you get accustomed to seeing so many weapons on the streets. And they are not neatly holstered either but held ready for firing in many instances. And coming from the UK where knives are also not tolerated or allowed it is odd to see so many people walking along swinging machetes – although now that I have been using one on more than one occasion I have to agree that a machete is possibly the best tool ever invented.
In many countries, Semana Santa and Easter is a bigger deal than Christmas and I was very pleased that we spent it in one of the best towns and experienced the atmosphere and saw the processions. After three nights in Popayan we were to continue to head north and to Cali where me and M would go our own ways for a couple of weeks. I had arranged to stay with a family here and M was off to stay with friends of friends.
by Jane | May 26, 2014 | Colombia, My travels |
the veranda at the Casa Quimbaya Outdooors
the view from the balcony
you just can’t tell how steep this is
the glass shower cubicle
colourful balconies
Diana and her partner who run the Casa Quimbaya live outside Armenia on a farm which will soon be available as an alternative hostel to the one in town and they had invited me and M to spend a night there.
The house which will be named Casa Quimbaya Outdoors it is just a twenty minute bus ride south of Armenia on the road to Barcelona.
Another unique hostel, this is the only one where you can stay on a farm outside of the immediate vicinity of Salento which has several farm/hostels.
We left our big rucksacks at the town hostel and hopped on a little local bus towards Barcelona. The bus driver duly dropped us off at a roundabout and we walked for about ten minutes along a small lane to the house at the end of the track.
Only built ten years ago the house appeared older with wooden floors, stairs and a wrap around veranda. There will be several rooms and sleeping combinations available to visitors but the highlights have to be the large living room with comfy cushions and chairs, the veranda, the gardens and the peace and tranquility.
Out here, breakfast is included in the price of accommodation unless you opt to camp in the level camping area in the large garden and there are plans to cater for lunches and dinners too if required, although guests will also be able to use the kitchen. We ordered out that evening from a local restaurant (the Don Alfredo) that delivers for a nominal charge and we enjoyed the typical food of the region sat around chatting.
When we arrived the sun was out and brightly coloured tropical birds darted around the trees and bushes in the garden and you couldn’t hear any traffic noise at all. Me and M were walking around the garden just looking when we came across Jose, the man who lives next door, feeding his goats. Holstering – or should that be sheathing – his machete, he offered to show us around his and Diana’s land. Leading us down the steepest of slopes he proudly showed us his banana plants and avocado trees. Clinging on for grim death so that we didn’t slide down the hillside into the river at the bottom we followed him around, keeping a wary eye out for tarantulas, snakes and tigretos (little tigers – but he may have made that one up to scare M). Like many very steep but cultivated mountainsides in Colombia, the land is not terraced but little pockets of earth are scooped out and the trees grow in these, giving the impression of a hanging garden from a distance as the trees appear to hover on the impossibly sheer slopes.
Whilst I remember, I have to tell you at this point about one ace little feature that the hostel had. There was a massive shower cubicle in the upstairs bathroom with floor to ceiling glass windows. It was like showering out of doors and it felt very liberating and free. I just trusted Diana when she said that nobody would be around and looking up at that window from outside!
you can just see M at the base of the tree
Whilst in the area we took a day trip from Armenia to Salento. This attractive little town is on every backpackers list and for good reason. Set in the coffee region, fincas and ranches are dotted about the hillsides offering accommodation and coffee tours. The town itself has the prettiest, most colourful buildings, with the ones near to the main plaza containing hostels or little artisan shops. Unlike a lot of places on the tourist circuit these shops offer a wide range of good quality and different local products.
Because we only had one day we didn’t linger in the town but as soon as we could, we jumped into the back of a jeep for the ride up to the Valle de Cocora
After arriving at the base of the valley, me and M signed up for a horse trek up into the forest. We plodded along a stony track and through several rivers for an hour and after we had finished we asked our guide if he could take us on foot to the best viewpoint for the valley in the limited time that we had.
There is a four hour trek advertised but we wanted to be back in Armenia that night so we were happy when our guide agreed to take us up through the private farmland to the top of the valley. After a strenuous climb we found ourselves above the magnificent wax palm trees that the valley is famous for. These trees grow up to sixty metres tall and they can live for two hundred years. They grow on these grassy hillsides, randomly spaced apart and I believe that I am correct to say that this valley is the only, or one of the few places in the world that you can find them. We sat on top of the hill in the sun for ten minutes until the mist came down shrouding the valley in its grey droplets and dropped its damp veil over our world.
dancing in the mist
After slipping and sliding back down the hillside we sheltered from the rain on the veranda of a farmhouse where we were offered agua de panela to drink. This hard to describe drink is an infusion made from sugar cane pulp like a sort of tasty tea and is drunk all over Colombia. We sat on stools made from cut off tree trunks, watching chickens scratching about in the rain and watched by two wide eyed toddlers from the safety of the kitchen doorway.
Back in Salento we tracked down a curry house – my first curry in months and then got the bus and rattled and bounced back to Armenia.
Our room at the Casa Quimbaya Outdoors was set off the rear courtyard and had brightly coloured bed covers and big patio windows out to the garden. In the evening we sat around chatting and reading whilst Diana’s partner, who is a very talented musician gently played his guitar and sang. If you want a few nights peace and quiet and away from the busier hostels, come and stay at the Casa Quimbaya Outdoors. By the time that you read this, it will hopefully be up and running and ready for visitors and is not so far off the beaten track that you feel isolated or secluded.
one of the bright rooms at Casa Quimbaya Outdoors
pretty Salento
As I travel around South America I am looking for my most favourite place. I had thought that it was Peru until I moved on. I don’t think that it is going to be possible to name one place or one area or even one country, but I know that Peru, and the north in particular, will remain very special to me.
I have felt the safest travelling in Ecuador but the people in Colombia are the smiliest and they will chat to anybody. Here in Colombia my favourite largish town has been Armenia, the small town has been Amaga and the best city is Medellin (although I will be visiting Cartegena soon), and I do hope to return later this year and check out all the bits that I have missed. I also hope to return and to revisit the coffee farm that I spent a day at (I am currently writing an article for that epic day) and I will return to Ecuador and Peru too.
by Jane | May 12, 2014 | Colombia, My travels |
the cutest cabin
The day after meeting Lady and Jimena at the lake we left our biggest bags at Lady’s town house and set off with her and Jimena in a camionetta to the countryside. After trekking across a couple of fields we arrived at the cutest wooden cabin miles from anywhere. Think ‘Little House on the Prairie’ and you are some way to understanding what it was like. The entire cabin had actually been built by our red poncho wearing boatman from the previous day. After opening up the house and letting the sunbeams dance in the four of us went out for a walk. We hiked down the hills through lush green fields with cows grazing on the steep slopes ending up at the foot of an overhanging cliff. A torrent of water was spurting out from the top and spraying far out from the cliff before crashing and tumbling into the pool below.
how awesome is this
The sheer scale of the cliff, the thundering roar of the water and the surrounding mountains and volcano miles from any civilization apart from the odd farmer only highlighted our insignificance. Nobody said much for quite a while. This place was saturated with with a special feeling, maybe spiritual, but without anybody orchestrating it we just sat quietly on rocks or paddled slowly and thoughtfully in the river, we lay in the sun with eyes half closed listening to the sweet song of a pair of eagles which were soaring silhouetted overhead or we wandered around barefoot in the soft spongy grass.
quiet contemplation
As we walked further on we disturbed clouds of yellow butterflies which were massing around the fresher cow pats and which rose up around our knees. Lady wanted to take us to a huge ceremonial rock which had very old markings on it but we were thwarted by some angry looking bullocks in one of the fields. These menacing creatures stamped and snorted as we attempted to gain entry to their field so we had to admit defeat and return to the cabin.
Our spectacular eclipse
Lady made us the tastiest of soups and then we all chilled out around a campfire. With smoke stinging our eyes we ate popcorn and drank wine and chatted to the soothing background sound of Lady’s medieval music. Every so often the clouds rolled across the sky – the light from the full moon made them look like pillows edged with shiny silver silk ribbon. We could see the red planet Mars close to the moon and as the time came for the eclipse to begin we prepared ourselves. We collected some lovely fleecy blankets that Lady had in her cabin and rolled ourselves up in them on the slope behind the little wooden cabin. Just like earlier at the waterfall we spread ourselves out, happy in our own thoughts, occasionally dozing off or murmuring the others awake with a sleepy exclamation as the shadow of the sun crept across the moon. We counted ourselves so lucky because just as the shadow began to nibble away at the edge of the moon the clouds retreated. It took a few hours for the eclipse to become complete but because of the proximity of Mars, when the moon was fully covered by the sun’s shadow it glowed an amazing red colour. We lay there totally transfixed in the silence at three in the morning, staring up at the craters and shadows on the moon’s surface. Up and away to our left, the outline of the active volcano reared up into the sky. There was no light pollution, just the occasional squeak of an animal or the chirping of the crickets. After about ten minutes of the spectacular show nature drew her curtains and rolled the clouds back over the moon. Three of us took ourselves inside the cabin not realising that one of us was still rolled up on the grass inside her blanket. Jimena woke a little later, outside in the dark with raindrops thundering down on her face.
Had we followed our initial plan, me and M would have caught the bus out of Pasto earlier that morning. Instead we accepted an offer from two total strangers to join them for the night far from anywhere in the Colombian countryside. When I began my adventures last summer I wrote a blog entry about strangers and trusting people. Nearly twelve months on, I hardly had to think twice about accepting Lady’s kind offer. I am learning to trust my instincts. Thank you so much Lady and Jimena. What an amazing, very special, day and night.
by Jane | May 8, 2014 | Personal stories |
I remember my grandmother offering me sweets from a jar every time she returned from her holidays in Bournemouth. The pebble sweets always fascinated me, partly because of the real and present danger that I could crack a tooth. I always worried that somehow a real pebble may have got inside the jar and for that reason I always picked the most brightly coloured, unrealistic looking pebble that I could reach.
But primarily I was fascinated because of the multitude of colours that shone glossily through the jar in all their synthetic and artificial glory – and I wondered, where in the world would you find pebbles with those range of colours.
I don’t know much about geology but I always assumed that rocks and pebbles were found with their own kind, like the drab grey stones that you find on countless beaches in the UK, but here, on my stretch of beach in Ecuador, I have found the template for those sweets. Glistening and shining across the whole spectrum of colours, a thin line of pebbles line up on the sand at the mid-water line. If my grandmother were around today I would pack up a box and post then home for her, but I will have to be content with collecting them into a pile and taking a photograph and banking the image of them into my memory bank.
Like people, these pebbles are fascinating because of their differences. Like the grey pebbles clumped together on so many beaches, people seek out their own, whether by class, nationality or age, but isn’t life more interesting if you mix it up a bit?
I suppose that by the very nature of my current way of life you might think that I am mixing with like-minded people – travellers and backpackers – but everybody has a different reason for travelling and the histories and background of people that I meet differ massively.
I am not scared by difference. I embrace it and try to live by that old adage that ‘you can’t judge a book by its cover’. People generally have a knack of getting on together no matter what atrocities are reported in the media, but unfortunately some like to stir things up, setting neighbours against neighbours or sister against brother for their own ends – which sadly are usually to do with power or control rather than what is right or reasonable.
I have friends with tattoos and piercings, shaved heads or brightly coloured hair or dreadlocks. I have friends who come from many different countries and very different cultures to my own. I have friends who are still at university and friends in their seventies but when we are together age isn’t an issue. Gay, straight or transgender, they are all amazing and like the pebbles on the beach, they all shine out in their own way.
For me, the best bit of travel is the people who I am meeting along the way. Those pebbles remind me that diversity is good.
by Jane | Apr 10, 2014 | Ecuador, My travels |
Well, to begin with, I got lost! I went for a walk, took the wrong turning and then I ended up about a mile away from town up a dead end. But it was no big deal – after all, I was wandering around the countryside just a stone’s throw from the equator and surrounded by cloud forest, many of the four hundred species of birds that live here and drifts of butterflies.
such a cutie
I finally found the right road and I hiked up and up and up. After an hour and after having turned down offers of lifts from several passing trucks I decided to check the map. Hmm – why had I not spotted the note from the nice lady in the information office earlier? Nine kilometres! And it was all uphill. Eventually I staggered to the end of the road to find my worst nightmare. The entrance to the cascadas (waterfalls) was via a suspicious looking cage suspended across the valley, hanging above the canopy of the cloud forest on wires and pulleys and driven by a car engine in a hut. The most enticing attractive Ecuadorian man hopped in and out of the cage to prove it was
this woodpecker refused to turn around
safe and promised to hold my hand all the way over – and he almost had me sold – until I then realised that I would have to walk for a minimum of another two hours the other side to get to just one of the six waterfalls and back. After my hike up the mountain I truly had no energy left, having also forgotten bring my water bottle (I was not having a good day) so regretfully I declined (although secretly I was relieved not to be trusting myself to a cable hundreds of feet up in the air) and I began the much quicker yomp back down the mountain. I got blasé and tried to look up at a vulture while breaking into a jog and tripped over my walking boot. I KNEW I was having a bad day and sprawled out in the middle of the road I turned the air blue as I mopped the blood from my knees, checked out my torn trousers and swore at my damaged camera.
Arriving back in town, the power was out and it was to remain out for the rest of the day.
hummingbird mid-flight
Searching out lunch I ended up on the wooden veranda of a coffee shop which was owned by a German family. I quickly switched tables when I realised that there were hummingbird feeders hanging at the open windows which were attracting birds by the dozen. I invited myself to sit with a man who was obviously making his onward travel plans (I recognise the signs well – guide book, note book with lists of names and countless crossing-outs and concentration) and a bit later we were joined by a couple of American travellers. The birds were fascinating; with some not much larger than a big bumble bee; and they darted around and then hovered to suck the sugar mixture out of the feeders just feet in front of us.
pausing for a drink
Some had iridescent blue and green plumage, others were black and white or had red tails, but all were amazing. The afternoon flew by as we chatted and swapped tales and wondered when the best time would be to venture out into the now pouring rain.
Later that evening, myself and Martin (the planning traveller), met up again as we had arranged and we trekked a little way out of town to the Mindo Lago.
dusk falls at Mindo Lago
This was billed as the ‘frog chorus’ and we arrived at the little complex just as dusk was falling. A small veranda overlooked a couple of plant filled ponds and thick shrubs and trees pressed down to the water’s edge. After a thimbleful of wine we were given an introductory talk whilst fireflies flashed in the bushes and the noise from countless frogs picked up in volume. We then all trekked in the dark down to a narrow path around the ponds and walked through the tiny forest area whilst our guides pointed out with their flashlights the various frogs, insects and a HUGE spider. We all gathered in the pitch black and discovered how a certain bacteria on some fallen logs actually glows in the dark and as we passed around a naturally occurring glow-stick I marvelled at how wonderful the natural world can be.
One of the highlights of my stay here was the (very) early bird watching walk. You can read a more detailed report by clicking here on the link – Bird watching in the cloud forest Suffice to say I was VERY excited to see toucans in the wild!
feeding from my hand
The following day I set off on a shorter hike to the Mariposario – the butterly farm. I was given an introduction and shown some caterpillars, chrysalises with their clever camouflage and then some butterflies which had emerged just an hour or so earlier. Some of the chrysalis resembled little globules of metal – these were the ones which would hang close to water – and I was then free to wander around inside the beautiful gardens. Butterflies fluttered silently around everywhere and it was even possible to feed some. They would cling onto your finger after being enticed there by some over-ripe banana.
amazing colours
They would settle everywhere, then flicker off or hang in droves from the wooden posts or flowers. The best but the most elusive to photograph were a dinner plate sized electric blue and these drifted around epitomising the very essence of the cloud forest. I then very happily hiked back to the town where the power was out yet again.
There was a lovely little coffee shop called La Reposteria around the corner from the Bio Hostal, so I tended to camp out there when the power went out. The Swiss owner Andrea visited Mindo few years ago and never left. The coffee was always lovely and the atmosphere very calm and tranquil, and the place glowed with candlelight.
La Reposteria
It seems Mindo attracts people and then grabs them so that they don’t want to leave. It is a tiny little town but I also found another tiny little coffee shop which served the most delicious vegan and chocolate cake overlooking the river and owned by a French and Italian couple. Another delightful find was a little place called Mishqui Quinde – Sweet Hummingbird which served quinoa pudding with fruit and ice cream. Sat in the sun chatting to the owner, I was invited to climb the wooden log ladder and take a peek inside the tree house where he lives.
Mindo also serves up canopy zip-wire courses for adrenaline junkies and tubing – this is where you charge down the river sat in massive inner tubes, although I passed on both of these activities. When I arrived many of the cafes and restaurants were closed but they were busy preparing for the season and the whole town was receiving a lick of paint.
the veranda at La Casita del Arte y del Te
It is a friendly town and I could quite happily have stayed longer and tucked myself away in one of the lovely little cafes and spent my time reading and writing but the time came to move on and head for the manic city of Quito
