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All Colombians Love Cocaine

Just like everyone who wears a turban is a terrorist and all black people are lazy. In truth, this post should be titled: The Nicest Person in Colombia. Because it feels like there's a giant competition sweeping the nation. Old lady's walking 15 blocks out of their way to help us find our way. The chef and his family that gave us a two hour ride, at night, when he thought we might get stranded. The strangers at a restaurant who initiated a 7 person phone call, just to help us find a store. The friends we made who showed us gems of their lives, took us into their homes, and hooked us up with new friends down the line. Everyday in Colombia, it was something new. And always without us even having to ask — a generosity and happiness that bordered on the ridiculous.

So forget everything you think you know about Colombia or Colombianos. They might be the best people we've ever met.

The Search is Over

In the months leading up to our trip, we tried our hand at Latin cuisine. Plenty of Yellowknife-dinner-partiers would agree, that our "Colombian Chicken Stew" was primo. In search of the real deal, we've been sampling sopas every chance we get. Finally, during our last week in this gorgeous country, we found a match. It was an Ajiaco, in the city of Pasto. And, quite similar to our original recipe. Grab a pack of cervezas, boil a pot up, and call some friends. This one's too good to keep to yourself.

Pinzacua

The unfortunate side of travelling, is witnessing the countless ways humans terrorize the earth, even when we think we're doing good. But from the moment we entered Hacienda Pinzacua, we knew it was a special place. Over 40 years in the making, the entire farm is anchored by the trees. Some just to provide shade, others with deep roots to pull nutrients to the leaves and eventually the top soil below, producing super grass for the cattle and more fertile ground for the host of vegetation. From vanilla orchids to the living fences that section the property and keep the honey bees in check, everything here is done with intense purpose and consideration for the whole; making it a self managing ecosystem that requires little more than a guiding hand. Led by our new friend, the lovely Irene, we were privileged to see and learn about a master piece that has been mostly enjoyed by professionals seeking to learn from this ecological success. Fortunately, they're now interested in sharing their world with an even wider audience. If you'd like to count yourself among the lucky, contact Irene at Irenemontesl@hotmail.com for an experience that will stick deep in your mind.

The Coffee Zone

We had a beautiful time floating through the Zona Cafeteria. Heavy rains took out the access road to our prized hike in Los Nevados, so we put our boots to the ground in search of hot springs, massive river trout in the Cocora Valley, and marvelled amidst the pinnacle of sustainable farmland.

We found ourselves trapped in the tranquil vortex of La Serrana, a hostel 1.2 km outside the town of Salento. Sure there were a few too many guests at times, but they were a diverse, interesting bunch of characters; some volunteering to make the place all the more welcoming, digging a hilltop fire pit and constructing an outdoor pizza oven.

We got closer to Juan Valdez, touring a coffee finca. Witnessed the tallest palm trees in the world. Soaked up fresh, unpasturized milk that doubled the pleasure of our morning brew. And of course, we had time to play the areas finest game — Tejo — a winning concoction of alcohol, lead weights and gun powder.

Medellin

The Medellin we visited was worlds away from the Medellin of just a short time ago. Check out the Documentary, La Sierra, for a highly personal account of the city's bloody past.  

Heather Pukes

As the Caribbean heat induced full-on-laziness, we knew it was time to escape the coast. A paradox that took us a couple of days to crack. Our torturous over night bus ride turned spectacular by the light of day, zig zagging us up the Chicamocha Canyon; teetering over giant folds of towering green earth, on our way to San Gil.

The adventure capital of Colombia did not disappoint. The river was perfect for hydrospeeding, which is kind of like rafting, but you trade your boat for a bodyboard and your paddle for fins. A lot more work than you'd expect. But easier than holding on to your lunch when you ask your paragliding pilot for "Muchas Adrenalina!"

The Lost City

Much has been written about Ciudad Perdida, so here are the cliff notes. The first non-indigenous people discovered it in 1972, pillaging its gold artifacts until good ol' alcohol gave one of the looters loose lips and the authorities moved in. It wasn't very safe to hike until the past few years, due to heavy guerilla activity.

Our guides and the people who ran the camps where we stayed over the five day hike, all use to process coca leaf, before the government ripped out all the plants in 2005, upped the military presence, and focused on tourism to help support the local economy. Our guide described the cocaine process in depth, which involved a lot of chemicals, and multiple petrol and acid washings, until they made a paste to be shipped off to a lab for further processing -- pretty nasty. They were happy and wonderful hosts to the jungle. Amazing how a simple shift can change people's lives to such a large degree. Although, we never did ask which lifestyle they preferred.

The jungle is also home to the Kogi.  A proud, indigenous group of descendants to the Tayrona people that inhabited the Lost City. They escaped the wrath of the Spanish, by fleeing to mountain tops in small groups. Today only the Kogi can own land in the region beyond a certain elevation. Minus a bit of Coca Cola (soft drink), their way of life is very similar to what it once was. All the men gain wisdom by tucking some toasted coca leaf in their cheek and then applying ground sea shells into the wad to activate certain knowledge imparting compounds. I am now twice as smart as you.

The ruins themselves are pretty cool, but secondary to the hike itself, which proved to be a great starter to get our legs back and was sweated out with a group of seriously fun people.

More Coastal Pleasures

Santa Marta, the jumping off point for tons of coastal and mountain pleasures, took us by surprise. The chilled out vibe, crumbling colonial architectue and diverse cuisine won us over and stopped a potentially lethal plantain overdose. If you're in the area, be sure to stop by Lamart Gastronomica Artistica for a meal that aptly reflects the name.

  

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The world's largest bumble bee came straight for us. Fortunately it had British Columbia license plates and was being driven by two cool cats and their dog -- Cam, Summer and Toka to the rescue. They were looking to journey to the northern tip of the continent and had room to share. What are the odds? It was a crazy, dusty, bouncy, bangy, breaky, beautiful ride. Despite a GPS and asking every wandering local we saw, it took us twice as long as expected. We celebrated our arrival like kids on Christmas, but the only gifts we had were in the cooler.


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The morning light revealed a concoction of natural wonders that wrapped us in an oasis of disbelief. The sun burned hot, but the strong breeze kept us cool. A microcosm of life gave way to endless landscapes. It was pure, tranquil and unlike any place we've ever been. Fewer than 100 people visit here each year. We hope the pictures give you a little taste of a place that will forever enchant us.

Hammocks on the Beach

The internet hasn't made it here. Power runs by generator at night. And you'll eat when someone feels like cooking. Which is generally two hours after you're starving. But the flopping fresh seafood is entirely worth the wait. And when you get to sleep under the stars, who cares. Yes, Cabo De La Vela has brought our relaxation to a level just above happy coma.

That's a good thing, because no matter who we talk to, moving forward to our ultimate destination, Punta Gallinas, entails waiting at least another week. Should we give up?