Popáyan - Pasto

You will be relieved at at the absence of a lot of narrative in this post. The incredible scenery between Popáyan and Pasto spoke for itself. That, and the comfort and lack of many passengers on the bus made for a delightful trip. A few words on random details of travel first.

• In Colombia, there is a huge military presence everywhere you go. They're all along the highways packing semi automatic rifles and peering out from behind sandbagged posts. Each motorist that passes gets either a thumbs up or a summons to pull over. In most cases it's thumbs up and I don't want to know the consequences of the alternative.
• Every so often along the highway there will suddenly be a cluster of flower vendors selling elaborate arrangements. I discovered that that is an indication you're passing a cometary.
• There are a couple of phrases one hears everywhere in Colombia many times every day. One is, "a la orden" which means "at your service" in a formal spence and "what do you want, what can I get you?" more loosely translated. In a sales context, it can be a come on vendors use as soon as you approach, "c'mon, c'mon, buy, buy" or, in a more courteous sense, "how can I help you?" To end any transaction, the phrase is, "con mucho gusto", more or less, "you're welcome". To me it has the connotation of enthusiasm and it amuses me to hear it delivered in a mumbled monotone by surly clerks.
• Latin American street type vendors, and probably ones in other places, have ritual chants for promoting their wares. Every time the bus stops, a gaggle of them gets on to hawk some sort of food, usually potato chips or ice cream, that sort of thing. Here's what they sound like:

 

Back to the journey. This part of the highway passes through some of the most beautiful Andean landscape I've seen in Colombia.

I've come to the realization that I like staying in nice hotels. Given a good hotel, preferably with a nice outdoor space, I can spend most of a day just hanging out, talking to other guests, reading and writing. To break up the journey from Popáyan to Ecuador, I decided to stay in a town called Pasto. My choice of that town was heavily influenced by there being a highly rated hotel there; #1 in Pasto in trip advisor. I don't think there's much competition in Pasto, a pretty ugly, unremarkable town otherwise but the reviews were glowing. And Hotel Casa Lopez richly deserved them. The gracious and engaging owner, Jaime, greeted me and we spoke for sever minutes before checking me in. In the typical style of old colonial homes, there is a central courtyard with two floors of rooms, kitchens and dining room opening to the flower-filled courtyard.

 

After settling in to my beautifully appointed room, Jaime brought me coffee on the balcony where I sat in the sunshine, got caught up on emails and enjoyed the comfy ambiance. I wish that Jaime's restaurant recommendation had been as good. From what he said, I had a couple of options there in the centre of town, one slightly better than the other. I'd hate to see what the other was like. I have to say that it was one of the more comical meals I've eaten. Mister Pollo was a sort of fast food place, plastic and vinyl decor. After pondering the unappetizing choices I chose smoked ribs. I'm not sure why. I don't usually eat that sort of thing. It was partially because, when I asked the server about a couple of the other, more appealing items, she said there would be a 25 minute wait for those. I was really hungry so made the speedier choice. It probably wouldn't have made much difference. The ribs came quickly, that was good. A generous amount of them, a baked potato, deep fried yucca patties, all on a bed of popcorn. Yes, popcorn! Unadorned at that. No butter, no salt. Plain old popcorn. They eat a lot of it in Colombia and Ecuador. Yet another carb and further evidence of the highly evolved cuisine. With a liberal application of lime and aji (hot sauce) it was edible.

 

When I returned from that sumptuous meal, one of the housekeepers met me at my room, a hot water bottle and a bottle of drinking water in hand. She tucked the hot water bottle into the foot of my bed, turned down the covers, drew the curtains and bid me a good night. In the morning there was a fine breakfast with freshly squeezed juice, fruit, eggs, rolls and good, strong Colombian coffee. If you're ever in Pasto.......

 

 

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Popayàn

Back to my altered travel plans: having had enough of Salento and the hotel I was in, I decided to go on to Popáyan a day earlier than planned. Unfortunately, my hostal of choice didn't have a room for that night and I could find vacancy at only one place, a place that made me regret my hasty decision to leave Salento. The owner of Pass Home Hostal was very nice but the place itself was marginal, one of those electric shower heads for the hot water, paint flaking off the walls, a cell like room. Icky in a word.

 

The drive there from Salento, though interesting for the scenery, was long and uncomfortable in one of those big, 12 passenger vans, squished in and unable to move much at all. Passing through the big city of Cali, Salsa capital of the world, I was reminded of why I have an aversion to hot, humid places. It was both of those and I suffered until we climbed up into the mountains. By the time we reached Popáyan I was flattened. I did have a surprisingly good dinner at a vegetarian place, not one that catered to foreigners, a locals sort of place run by three women who made good food from scratch including outstanding, heavy, dense whole wheat and pumpernickel bread. Then it was bed time.

First thing in the morning, I moved to the hostal I like and and set off for a bike ride. The hostal sponsored a tiny bike share program, 5 bikes, one station, and I enjoyed riding around the community for a couple of hours.

Then walked up to a hilltop for big views of the town and surroundings. .

 

But it is not what you'd term a vibrant city. Restaurants close at around my dinner time and the sidewalks are rolled up early. This being Sunday, things died even earlier so I made my dinner and retired early in anticipation of another day of travel.

 

 

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Salento

This was my second visit to Salento. The primary reason I returned was to hike in the Corcora Valley. The valley is part of the Los Nevados National Natural Park, incorporated into the existing national park by the Colombian government in 1985. It is the principal location of the national tree and symbol of Colombia, the Quindío wax palm.

 

On my previous visit, my hike got rained out and since it was reputed to be a "must do", I returned and did. It's a nice enough little town in a lovely setting but otherwise Salento didn't merit returning to in my opinion.

 

It's very touristy and, while that meant that there were opportunities for socializing, it also meant that there were too many of us, prices were high and the locals are somewhat jaded. My visit there was also the apex of travel burn out for me. For some time I'd been feeling disconnected and discontent, never being fully in the moment, not appreciating where I was, waiting for something better. This played out with my accommodations. My first choice in Salento was unavailable so I stayed in a place that was ok but just not quite right; too expensive and a sort of generic corporate hostal vibe. And then the hot water stopped working, a deal breaker. So I got a room at a place where I'd stayed last time (after moving from another place as well). I agreed on a room and a price with the landlady and, yes, there was wifi throughout, no problem. There was a balcony with a nice view and I it was much cheaper so I was feeling better accommodation wise.

 

So, when I arrived next day to move in and found that the room I'd agreed on was not available and the wifi didn't work and the woman I'd spoken to was nowhere to be found, I was not happy. And the woman who received me and delivered this news was surley and rude and now I remembered her from last time. I don't know how this place continues to operate with her working there. And so, out of general disgruntlement, I made another unwise decision: I decided to leave Salento a day early for Popáyan. But, I digress. More about that on the next post.

On my first day I did the Corcora Valley hike. The hike starts a few kilometres out of town so one hires a Willeys jeep for transportation to the trailhead.

 

Both Colombia and Ecuador have long embraced these old jeeps for rural transportation and they're invariably beautifully maintained and often tricked out with fancy paint jobs and shiny chrome.

 

The first part of the hike leads through rolling hills amidst the towering palm trees, then ascends pretty steeply several kilometres to a mirador, an overlook point.

 

But soon there wasn't much to see unfortunately as the mountains were engulfed in clouds.

 

It was nice to be out hiking in relative solitude in this lush forest anyway and there was a lot of bird life.

 

At the mirador, the flower gardens attracted swarms of hummingbirds. There was a little station there where a man served a te de canela (cane suger tea) and queso, a mild, fresh cheese, both pretty unappetizing. But this is standard fare and ya gotta try it. Once. After this refreshment and a few photos, I walked back down the mountain and caught another jeep for home.

I had some uncharacteristically (for Colombia) positive food experiences in Salento. I knew about Lucy's from my previous visit, a no frills set menu place on the main drag, very cheap and pretty good. They must farm a tremendous amount of trout in Salento (as well as many parts of South America), it's on every menu in town prepared in a variety of ways so it was the best of the three meat choices available. As always, you get a soup to start, a flovoured water drink, an entre with the trout, a piece of fried plantain, veggies, a little salad, a mound of rice and usually a little custard sort of dessert. Way too much to finish for about $3. At the other end of the spectrum was El Eliana, not cheap but imaginative and international. Owned by a Spanish guy, there was a range of Thai and Indian curries, things like tandoori chicken pizza. Good stuff. It was also a good place to meet other travellers. The first time I ate there, I noticed a couple playing cribbage and was surprised to discover that they were German. Crib is not known in Germany but they learned from Canadian friends and were hooked. They invited me to play but, as my meal was arriving, I declined. They were there the next day though and we played a game. Fun to play again. After they left, I got into a spirited conversation with two Frenchmen. They weren't associated, just happened to both be from France, one maybe in his 50s, the other in his twenties, both inveterate travellers. The younger one loved to go off on his own on improbable hikes. He hiked to Machu Pichu cross country, camping rough or staying with locals. Wild kid. And there was a not so positive social contact, emblematic, to a degree, of these kinds of places that attract a variety of backpacker types. I initiated a conversation with two youngish guys while walking around. One was German, the other Peruvian/Dutch. Initially it was ok but then we encountered another of their acquaintances, went into a bar for beers and the conversation devolved to drugs, their impending ayhuasca trip (a psychedelic drug taken by indigenous groups in South America and currently in vogue in the States and Canada) and all the drugs they'd taken and I took my leave.

 

 

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Manizales

It was quite a lovely drive from Medellin to Manizales through the region called the Cafetero, the coffee growing region. And once again, there were throngs of cyclists toiling up the long steep road going south out of Medellin. But, unlike the big four lane highway with ample shoulders coming in from the airport, this was a narrow, two lane highway teeming with big tricks and buses. But drivers seemed tolerant of the cyclists. At least I didn't see any in the ditch. Roadside restaurants were packed with riders, all decked out in lycra, riding high end road bikes.

I really didn't expect Manizales to be so hilly. It's perched way up on a flattish area, precipitous slopes falling away on all sides.

 

There's an arial tram from the bus station to the downtown which is not down but way up. I guess it's uptown.

 

In any case, from there it was down, down, down to my airbnb accommodation, a place called, very aptly, Amazing View.

Perched on a steep hillside, surrounded by banana/coffee fields and a beautiful garden, Amazing View was a very modern, palatial sort of place whose owner, Majid, was originally from Iran, lived several years in Courtenay, BC very close to me, and whose daughter lives in Victoria. Interesting guy, very positive, very calm, generous and a great cook.

Though a raw food vegan himself, he provided wonderful breakfasts, usually quiche-like dishes, fresh fruit and freshly squeezed juices.

Getting to town from home was a major undertaking. His place was quite rural and it was an uphill slog just to get to the road where there were buses to town. Manizales itself has a population of around 400,000 and is a university town so it's lively with lots of young folks and a nice area where there are good cafes and restaurants.

For most visitors, Manizales is solely a jumping off point for the big national park, Los Nevados, where there are high peaks and cloud forests. I'm just not that adventurous these days and figured that the mountains would be most likely engulfed in clouds anyway. Maybe just an excuse to stay close to creature comforts. But I also have a hard time allowing myself to just sit and read and enjoy the views so it took some self talk to be content to stay put and be still.

I also find that I have a need for more social contact these days and the other guests who were there were difficult for me to connect with. One of them was also of Iranian origins, a real estate developer who now lives in Florida but has lived many places, owns real estate in many places, has lots of money and a proclivity for buying young girls for his pleasure. I felt like taking a shower after talking to him for five minutes. There was a couple from Montreal who were staying there for several months. He was a body builder, very terse, just short of threatening, she was sort of sweet and new agey and they both smoked like crazy.

One morning Majid gave me a ride into town and I visited the mercado and stocked up on veggies, explored the colonial old town a bit and rode the arial tram to take in the views.

Pleasing architecture on left...........ugly, typical Colombia, Ecuador, Peru architecture on right

 

Another morning I accompanied Majid to a local farm where they raised goats, sheep and chickens and had a little eco-tourism thing going on. Majid looked at goats to buy and bought a male guinea fowl for his female one.

And I did manage to slow down for periods, read and wrote and admired the view.

Coffee, banana, bamboo, pine......many greens

 

A surprise visitor

 

 

 

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