maldito el tiempo que se acaba!

Oh my goodness- home at last in Tunja. I arrived this afternoon after an all night bus ride from Valledupar to Bucaramanga, and then 6 more hours to Tunja. The cold is not so good- I`ve had to make lots of tea with lemon and you know I`m gonna sleep like a rock tonight!

Well, well, what can I say about the final week of travels. Many beautiful places. Let`s see, when last we spoke I was on the way to the Sierra Nevada, to a small coffee growing town called Minca, specifically. I went with Will and Rachel and as soon as we arrived, we headed straight to a swimming hole, a half hour walk up into the jungle on a gravel road. The river was beautiful, huge rocks and deep pools where we could throw oursleves off 20 ft. rocks and land gently. SO that was lovely. We stayed at a hostel run by a british dude that was up on a hill surrounded by coffee and plantain trees and with an unbelievable view all the way to Santa Marta (an our below) and the sea. The next day we walked up another trail to another waterfall next to a shade grown coffee plantation, where I bought a bag of freshly ground beans. The walk was great- following the river, passing some enormous trees with big vines hanging of them, seeing big woodpeckers and ant hills built onto the sides of trees the size of a mini refrigerator! That afternoon we caught a ride back down to Santa Marta, bid fairwell to our kind host Camilo and his family, and headed to the crossroads to catch a bus to Riohacha, capital of La Guajira department, our next destination. From there, the next morning, we joined with Rachel and another ETA Diana to go to the famed Cabo de la Vela. Getting there involved a 3 hour ride in the back of a truck with a dozen other people, including a Wayuu (indigenous herders that are the main population of the semi dersertic Guajira) woman with her 4 adorable daughters, one of which m,ade the trip on my lap fast asleep despite the joloting bumps. We finally arrived and what a place!! Cabo is a bay where sandy flats meet bright blue ocean and there are beaches where you can walk out 300 meters and still be just up to your waste. It is a very popular destination these days, but luckily we arrived just at the end of the last 3 day weekend holiday, so things were pretty relaxed. In any case, it`s a pretty isolated location with little fresh water. All that`s there is a strip of shacks (just years ago it was just a tiny Wayuu fishing village nobody had ever heard of), and huts with chinchorros (big hammocks that are the main accomadation). So we wandered along the beach out to the lighthouse, watched the sun set, watched a full moon rise over the water, and fell asleep in hammocks at the edge of the beach (although a few Colombian tourists in their trucks blasting vallenato down the way all night broke the peace a bit). The next day we decided to go to a similar though even more isolated beach area called Punto Gallinas, the northernmost point of South America. That involved an even more harrowing 5 hour truck ride, this time with an open top and incredible bumps, so much that I stood up most of the way so as not to bruise my arse, although we also had to duck thorny bushes too. But again, when we arrived, we realized why it was worth it. Even more spectacular beaches, white sand dunes, and nodoby around except for the occasion Wayuu family hut and of course goats everywhere among the straggly vegetation. We spent 2 nights with a large Wayuu family with a view of the bay, and again in chinchorros. The second day we splurged on lobster, which is not too expensive and soooo delicious! Mostly we just lazed around on various beaches, collecting shells, body surfing on the waves, getting stung a bit by small jellyfish, and reading and stargazing at night. By the time we took the boat back to Cabo on Thursday we were all just sort of in a trance by the beauty and isolation of the place.

Then I went into return mode. A long riude in various cars back to Valledupar where I spent a night with Natalia and family, and the next day gathered dozens of the last of the mango harvest off the roof of the neighborhood church, guided by a short, scruffy, laid back priest who sent us home with a bucketful! One last dip in the river Guatapuri and then I caught the all night bus that brought me back to TUnja! I`m about to meet with Milena, so things are swell, except for being exhausted and a bit stuffy nosed. But I`m ready to settle down a while after so much being in transit. Cheers!! Stay tuned for semester 2 from UniBoyacá!

un toque de viajero

Well well, another few days have raced by, and many adventures!
Let`s see. I think we left of on the second day in Valledupar. The third day there (I stayed longer because I liked it so much) I did an epic bike ride (12 km) on a little country road to a small village called La Meza where there was a community of indigenous Arhuacos. The ride was hot and I burned the top of my knees and was bright red when I arrived. Well worth the ride, though. Down a gravel road from the main strip there was a small resguardo of Arhuacos, just about 20 houses surrounded by their fields of plantains, papayas, yuca, and cattle. The houses were beautiful, built with earthen walls and huge hatched palm roofs. There were justt a few young people around, but they were willing to let me have a look around and answer my questions. Then I checked out the river, another one with big rocks, clear water and deep pools, good for diving. The next day my friend Nata and I went to a little eco-park near the river that had lots of reused things like tires and phone booths converted into playgrounds for children, and also a series of pools where they do massages and mud treatments (they smeared our faces with mud and it left our skin looking nice).
Let`s see, so from the lovely Valledupar, I headed to Cartagena, the tourist hub second only to Rio de Janeiro in South America, the ancient port where the gold came out and the slaves went in. I had my doubts about going, knowing it`s very touristic, but I thought, hell, gotta go, you just sort of have to.
And . . . it was as bad as I had feared. I stayed in a packed hostel with lots of Argentines, which was fun. But let`s see, how to explain Cartagena? Really, you have to speak of 3 Cartagenas. You have the historic center, surrounded by stone battlements, with castles, churches, and colonial houses with big balconies full of flowers. That part is maybe 20 acres, pretty, packed with tourists, and rather expensive. Then there`s the part with beaches and huge shining high-rise hotels. Also packed and expensive. Then there`s all the rest of Cartagena, which is basically a giant, sprawling slum with trash in the streets, poorly built shacks, big time drug trafficking, etc. The poorest places I`ve seen in the country. And you can feel it in the air. Just an unhealthy energy in the air, partly because of the overload of tourists, and partly the festering inequalities. So, I spent half a day wandering in the historic part, saw some nice museums, then the afternoon wandering through the packed beaches, and then deciding to get the hell out as early as i could the next day.
That took me to my next stop, Santa Marta, also an historic and touristy city, but with a completely different vibe! Santa Marta is much smaller, much more relxed, and has much prettier beaches and the mountains of the Sierra Nevada right behind. I arrived in the afternoon, met up with Will, a fellow ETA, and we wandered around the bay. They took us out on a motorboat ride past the port, and then we wandered about the sleepy city, enjoying seas breezes. Today we went to Taganga, a famous fishing village and beach a half hour down the coast. It was beautiful, but packed on the larger beaches. We ended up on a bit less crowded beach, swimming in the bright blue water, which was cool and refreshing, and lounging in the shade. Unfortunately, since last night I`ve been having stomach troubles and loose stool (I blame street food in Cartagena), but I`ve been taking it easy and drinking lots of fluid and yogurt, so with any luck I`ll be better tomorrow. Tomorrow our friend Rachel arrives and the plan it to head up into the Sierra Nevada, where there are crystal streams, and indigenous villages, and after that to the huge desert beaches of la Guajira. So stay tuned for the latest from those exotic destinations. Good night, and good luck.

parrandeando el año nuevo!!!

Happy 2012 all! Sure to be a wild year whether full of catastrophes or the coming of a New Age or just the same old shit. I´m in full travel mode, going on a week and it´s been a wonderful ride so far. Let´s see, I´´ll try to be brief and cronological:
So, Christmas was in Bogota with Milena and the family. A lot livelier than Christmas in the states- spent all Christmas Eve making tamales, desserts, and then in a huge, packed mall looking for clothes and furniture for the family. We went to mass- oops, we arrived late and it was over- so back to the house to stuff ourselves, drink wine and aguardiente, and dance, before the fireworks and all at midnight.
Then I hit the road. From Tunja up North, first to San Gil, which is sort of the adventure sports capital of Colombia. It´s in a mountain valley near Chicamocha Canyon, which is nearly as big and as pretty as the Grand onem, and the climate is waaay warmer than Tunja. I stayed in a little hostel with a nice Australian botanist couple, Elise and Andrew, or Roo (which fit, the guy was tall, lanky, bald with dreadloacks in back and a big chin that evoked a kanga). The city is small and pretty except for the omnipresent motorcycles that go on all night and zip ar ound corners unnervingly.
Day one was great: first to th most beautiful waterfalls I´ve ever seen, careening down from a mountain and surrounded by hills with sugar cane planted. At the top the fall is maybe 100 feet and there´s a pool neck deep to swim, but the constant spray of the falls in wearying, but down below there were more fall, ith pools and big rocks and huge tropical trees. Ahh, gorgeous!! Then in the afternoon I said, screw it, let´s go paragliding. Roo had experience so I elt confident. We ended up with a company that took us in a packed bus to the top of a hill in the middle of coffee farms (all shade grown so from above it looks like forest) and to this peak with a view of the conyon below. And up I went, about a 20 minute fly. The problem was a front was coming in and the wind was really strong so they had a hard time land back on the hill. When I went up it started pelting rain toward the end, and we had to try to land fast cus that gets hairy fast. It was great. I was nervous because you´re up there with just a cushion and straps under you and the pilot ostrapped to you. My muscles were definitely sore from having an iron grip on the straps, but I managed to not get queasy like others. I would like to go again now that I´m more relaxed and could enjoy it more. Anyway, the rain came but not everyone had gone so the company wanted to wait for it to clear so as not to lose their money. We spent an hour or so drinking coffee under a canopy until just before sunset it sort of clear and they took some people up through the mist. But- oops- the mud road back down was all washed out so our bus had to wait for us below while we slopped through 3 km of mud back don the hill in the dark, which sounds rotten, but it was actually really nice, with the air and the corn fields quiet and dark around us.

Well, what else? The next day I just went to a pretty colonial town of Barichara and then on to Bucaramana, the capital of Santander. I arrived at the house of Luz and Alfredo, a sweet older couple, couchsurf hosts, that own a bar and kiosk. They live in the ritzy southern neighborhood of Floridablanca, which felt a lot like Miami- their housing unit including high rise apartments, a spa, sauna, pool, salon, b-ball court, and coconut trees. Pretty cushy. Anyway, I took advantage of the pool but feel kind of enclosed. the next day Luz took me in the car around Bucaramanga, a nice university city in the mountains. They were so generous and it was inspiring, although it was funny to observe some of their hypocresies: treating me, a well-off foreigner to lunch, dinner, beer, treats, etc., but refusing to give a few pennies to the Matachines (poor kids who dress up in clown suits and ask for money at stoplights), complaining about how people drink so much when they own a bar and licor store, etc. Oh well, no one is perfect and I certainly can{y complain.

ANd now I´m in Valledupar, the capital of Vallenato and almost to the coast. Thaqt involved an 8 hour marathon trip in a little bus with a nice driver who told me all sorts of stories about the areas we passed that had flooded or had avalanches, a crazy 2 hour car trip with three gruff costeños that I couldn´t understand at all and blasted music and drove a good 80 mph in a clunker, then another bus. But I arrived in time to join Natalia, another couch contact, and her family to celebrate New Years, which involved a roasted goat, dancing, and at 12 am running around the block with a suitcase (to have luck in travels) and hugging neighbors. Today we spent the whole day around the river in Valledupar, which is a beautiful crystal one with deep spots where you can jump from high rocks. It was packed wall to wall, basically the whole city there, and people selling ice cream, coconuts, mango juice, sausage, everything you can imagine. Tonight we´ll go dancing and then tomorrow to a nearby indigenous Aruaco town and then onto a bus to Cartagena,

Oh, and did I mention there are mango trees on every street, including the patio of my hostel. People here actually spend more time complaining about getting hit by the falling fruits than they spend eating them, but they are delicious!! Hundreds of free mangos? I must be in heaven!