Colombia

The landing in Cartagena shook hard the airplane. The sky was grey, stuck with clouds everywhere, and landing strip was wet - it just stopped raining. The fake outgoing ticket we used for entering Panama did the job in Colombia too. In few countries we were asked to show ticket home, we didn't have one, so we just took old flight ticket and change the dates and the locations.
I withdraw money on the airport - one euro evens 3150 pesos....lots of calculations are coming. We cough a taxi, which brought us to the center of the old town from there we found the hostel by walk. It was right in the center, no kitchen, 4 bathrooms for about 40 people. There was a bench along the wall in the living room. Large room, with lots of empty space. It was ok for 1-2 nights and we didn't want to stay too long here.
We dropped off the back packs, it was just 16:30 so we went out in hunt for food. I found delicious banitsas. It looked and it tasted like banitsa, with the only difference, that it was filled with ham and cheese, instead of white cheese.
Vendors at the street were offering everything. Fruits, bread, quesadillas, rat poison, crystal balls, shaving razors, weed, cocaine, anything that you can think of.
This part of the town looked well organized, with modern transport, new cars, most of the people were well dressed. Next to all that, the unfortunates were digging in the rubbish containers and eating rotten food they could find.
All around was smell of pee. Even after the rain. At almost each corner we got hit by the nose from the stink. All those hobos were shitting and urinating at the streets.

(rat poison with example that it works)

Constantly someone was pushing his goods under our noses. Original Rolex, Ray Ban sunglasses, t-shirts, taxi service, hats, jewelry. And of course we were assured that we can't find it any cheaper.
We spent one day for the old Cartagena. There is a lot of history here. Centuries ago, main port of the Carribean part of South America. Nowadays, tourist attraction. This is where the Spanish galeons were setting off sails back to Spain filled with stolen gold. Of course, the pirates knew that and were prowling around. Multiple times the town was attacked by Frenches and Brits. This is why a huge wall around the town was built.
As well, the black slaves from Afrika were brought first here. Santo Domingos street still had the "negrerias", were the slaves were locked. On the big square next to the big gates, was the slave market. Once sold, they were taken to some Caribbean island to work on the sugar cane. Until being sold they were "asked" to work on building the city wall. Today, on the very same square we could find statue of Pedro Gereira (the city founder) surrounded by fancy bars and restaurants, bunch of horse carriages, lots of cocaine and gandja dealers and prostitutes of course. A lot.

South of old Cartagena is located little peninsula, the east part of which is taken by the army and the harbor. On the west part are rising modern buildings, residential and commercial malls. Here is also the city beach, covered with dark sand. Most of it was crowded and over filled with sun chairs and umbrellas. We were walking across the beach and at least 10 guys came to us to offer us chairs and umbrellas. Their attitude was rude and annoying. Instead of nicely offering "do you want sir" they were like "here, sun chair, take it!"

(one of the beaches in Cartagena)

I wouldn't sit on those beaches, neither would go for a swim. The water seemed brown and dirty. I wonder what an average tourist was thinking before and after booking stay in one of the all inclusive hotels down the beach. We found one windsurf center. The rental rate was 30 dollars, the equipment was old, but relatively in good shape. As the wind was not so strong i choose not to bother with sailing today.

(the port of Cartagena)

After Cartagena we hit to Santa Marta. First we took a bus to bring us outside the center. The drivier didn't stop, just slowed down on the bus stop. Helen was standing and I was still on the stairrs when the guy pushed the gas. Helen fell on the seat, I hang on one of the hangers. The back pack i had was around 15 kilo and it was pulling me back to the door. Luckily, we stopped on red light, so we manage to sit. The driver took off again as he was racing Indiecar. Probably should say IndieBus. It was small bus, driven by 20ish years boy, who was really having fun drifting the back wheels. One woman with little girl started to shout to him. "There are people here, not animals, be careful" He slowed down for half kilometer, till he forgot that there are people behind him and again started to drive like lunatic. The girl from the woman threw up. Lovely.
We crossed the whole city. While in the center is clean and organized, outside areas are NOT. Everyone around here was living in sort of shed made out of bricks or wood or even metal. Dust and mud at the streets, surrounded by endless fields all covered with plastic bags and bottles. Naked kids, dogs with scab were running in to the mud. The difference between central and the poor back streets was enormous.
Once at the bus station immediately the coyotes stuck to us. They had a great desire to help us with choosing the right bus. We ignored them. Those guys were getting commission every time, when they pull a client into particular bus. We found one leaving to Santa Marta in half hour, 20 000 pesos each (6 US dollars approximately) The bus left the bus station, to stop exactly after 50 meters away, where the bus driver decided to wait for more passengers. Two youngsters were running up and down in search for clients. Whoever is willing to be transported from A to B would find his way to the bus. Those young men were only creating chaos. Till someone is paying them for whatever they did, they would exist. It took more than half hour to wait outside the bus station. Which makes me think what the function was of the mentioned bus station. It is still a mystery. When we left the bus station we were 3 passengers in the bus. On the stop 50 meters out of there, the bus was full.
The travel to Santa Marta took 6 hours. It could be just 4 if we didn't wait on every drop off for new passengers to fill up the empty seats.
Santa Marta is a "little town" according to lonely planet - little town with almost million of citizens. Huge harbor, old town with colonial buildings, churches and new part with modern buildings. After Guatemala no old colonial building could impress me. Not that there was soooooooooooo much in Guatemala...just not my think.
From Santa Marta were starting organized trips to Ciudad Perdida - the lost city, located somewhere in the mountains of Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta. It is some old indian village, discovered recently from gold diggers and ancient tombs seekers.
The trips were taking couple of day and were unreasonably expensive. 350 euro for 4 days of jungle trek didn't match my economical potential. Honestly, my plan was to spend those money on our entire stay in Colombia. We spent a day in wandering around and on the next day we went to Tayrona National Park. Wild jungles, mountains and beautiful beaches on the carribean sea.

(mokey crossing)

Early in the morning we took a bus, which dropped us at Cabezo, where was one of the entrances of the park. From here we started 2 hours climb in the jungle, crossing little creeks, to reach in the heart of the jungle where we found Pueblito - Indian settlement with about 10 huts having straw roofs. The indigenous people living here were called Kogi. They way they lived was more or less the same way they used to live 500 years ago. I peeped in one of the huts, no furniture, straw bed on the floor and few rocks or bricks...used as chairs I suppose.

From the village we started another 1 and half hour descending of this mountain. All the way down we were jumping from one rock to another as goats. We were walking on big roundish rocks with sizes of 5 and more meters in diameter, all colored in white. A giant dug them all out with his huge shovel and put them all around the mountain. A man could easily disappear if one have fallen in some of the gaps between those rocks. I didn't want to think too much what kind of creatures are living in there. Earlier before we reach the village, brown snake passed my way. We went all the way down, we crossed little creek and after another 100 meters through the jungle we walked to the sands of Cabo de San Juan beach.

(cabo de San Juan)

We did a bit of research and we were expecting some more tourists. But definitely we didn't expected such a view. First we passed by a camp site with approximately 50 tents, all with numbers. The space between each was less than 2 meters. A bit further, right on the beach was a bar with a lot of tables. Each table was surrounded by people. Lots of people. Sitting people, standing people, people all around the bar and the premises with bottle of beer or water in their hands.
Right next to the bar was a little beach with 200 people laying on the sand and another 200 swimming in the water. On the right handed side was the little creek we crossed earlier and next to it piece of rock standing above the water with wooden mirador on top of it. Few stairs were leading there. People everywhere. On the stairs, going up, going down, on the mirador, cameras and phones watching 360 degrees. Everywhere people, beach towels...hebrew, english, spanish, german. We were in Babilon, only the tower was missing. Thousands of people were all around us.
We both were super sweaty and we jumped into the sea to freshen up. Didn't waste too much time in that human soup and we continued. After 15 min walk we reach Piscina bay, which luckily was a lot less busy. This is lagoon, 500 by 1000 meters approximately. Reef and rocks were popping out the water to separate the lagoon from the Caribbean sea. We swam here too. The water was just the same as before, but was us an another 20 people maximum. I guess was just not mentioned so often in the tourist guids.
It was already 15h and we didn't have much time to waste. The exit of the park was far away, and the last bus for the city was at 18h. From here we were walking around the mountains, relatively flat terrain, for another 2 hours through the jungle. Monkeys were crossing our way, jumping from one tree to another. I am not used to see monkeys into the wild, not in Europe, so every time seeing them was exciting.
There was no even dirt road to the beach and the few houses down there, even 4x4 car couldn't drive down there very easy. Or at all. We were discussing how did they bring all the building materials and etc...It seems someone heard our conversation and send the answer right in front of us. That was caravan of 10 horses and mules loaded with sacks and packages. Fedex on 4 legs.

At some point we came to asphalt road and civilization. Cars and mini buses were waiting for their passengers. We got in one of those, which brought us to the exit of the park for 3000 pesos each. That saved us another hour of walk. On the exit we got immediately to the bus back for Santa Marta. On the seat infront was one of those Kogi indians. He was dressed in white tunic, white trousers and out of his mochila was sticking out wooden stick. When Kogi steps in his manhood is getting a poporo - sort of wooden mortar, in which he can squash coca leaves with the stick. The mash is far away from cocaine, but works by hunger, pain, or to keep them awake when necessary. The guy in the bus lived somewhere in the mountain, maybe even Pueblito. Kogi Indians are often mentioned when talking about coca. This plant is having major part in their lives, rituals and traditions.
Anyway, we hardly could felt our legs...we were so tired of walking and we only wanted to get to the hotel.
Next afternoon we get to the night bus to Medellin. Distance of nearly 800 km, took us 16 hours and 30 dollars. It was very luxury bus, seats could go almost horizontal without bothering the passenger behind, and with little handle we could pull a little stool for the legs. There were two toilets in the bus and wifi connection. The speed was better than some of the hostels we were before.
We were tired after 16 hours in the bus. Helen was ok to use the city transport but I had no patient for it. Waved a cab, which brought us to the hostel for 3 dollars.
Medellin is big city with 2.5 million citizens. It is situated around the river of Medellin, surrounded by mountains, which were covered with clouds most of the time. Big flats, small flats, houses, huts and barracks were everywhere.

Pablo Escobar grew up and lived here. Here he run amok, together with his gang. I asked local girl about Pablo - she told me that he is not a person they like to talk. She told me little story from her childhood. From the balcony of her flat she saw how 2 cars stop on the street, people jump out and start shooting with machine guns to everything which moves. It wasn't shooting between two gangs, or gang and police....it was just killing innocent people.
Pablo gave a price to each person who would kill a cop or a soldier. He had a pool with crocodiles. He (or a gang member) would bring some captured enemy, police officer or person in disgrace to his mansion and they would feed the crocodiles with him.
Many people were killed, women were raped, funny place was Medellin. Some people mistaken him with colombian Robin hood, because he built schools and hospitals.
After he became rich and famous Pablo Escobar tried to get in to the government. He tried to buy voters by building hospitals and schools for the poor. But as it seems, people from Medellin don't really like to remember the time he was alive.

Aurora district

With the metro we went down to San Javier, where starts the cable car to Aurora district. In the cabin we passed above ghetto, houses were made of red bricks, the poorest out of wood or thin metal. No one had a garden, overall the living conditions in that area weren't good. At all! Most of the places weren't having road access. Only steep and narrow trails. We were warned not to go out the cable car station. Unless we want to be robbed and eventually stabbed, punched, or molested on any other way. Made few photos which made me feel...don't know how to explain, but went to make photos of the poverty of other people, without even thinking of how to improve their lives...We went back to San Javier (which is relatively safe area) and from there we went to another place - Comuna 13. Today the streets and the houses are painted in bright colors and covered with street art. Lots of tourist are coming to have a look. 20 years ago, the love and the peace were NOT flying in the air. But mostly bullets. Rapes, murders, robberies, were just a little piece of the day life.

community 13

We spent one more day in wandering around Medellin before heading to Guatape. This village is laying on the Penol reservoir and it is surrounded by mountains from all sides. The bus dropped us on the malecon, and here was madness. It was Sunday and everyone was on the streets and the malecon. Also the people from the surrounding villages were here. And probably 1/4 of Columbia. On the malecon we could buy souvenirs, drinks, empanadas, grilling meat each 15 meter...We walked along the malecon towards our hostel. Zip line was passing by, just above the water. Every minute we could hear the hiss of the line and we could see the silhouette of someone rolling on it. Tens of boats, jetskis were ripping the water, I noticed some dingys too. So much people, so much was going on in such a small place. There was barely space on the street to walk , we needed to slalom with our backpacks. We passed by a family, all dressed with blue jeans and sailors t-shirts, dad and son were wearing batman hat. Little pincher on a leash was dressed also with the same t-shirt and jeans. Slowly we left that human crowd behind, we crossed little bridge and after few hundred meters we were in front of our hostel. We left the back packs, put on the flip flops and walked back to the madness in the town.

Finally we left the big cities and we were in Columbia on the way I was imaging it. I have never seen such a vivid village before. The houses were not just painted. An artist went mental on them. They were all in bright colors to the smallest detail. The facade of each house had the so called 'zocalo' . Bas reliefs, or paintings all of them identical, saying who is living in that house. The tailor would have sewing machine, the postman would have post car or envelope on the facade. In front of one house was parked old Dodge truck. The facade on the house next to it had the same truck painted. A lot of work was needed to have all this done.

Next day we dedicated to Piedra de Penol. It was on walking distance so we hit the road, loaded with water and some snacks. We were walking for an hour along the main road, when we reached a gas station. Another 20 min some stairs and steep hill, when we reached huge rock, with high of about 200 meters. Countless stairs were leading to the top. To be honest they were counted, even they had numbers. Anyway. We paid 6 dollars each to enter and we started. Only up, only stairs. I am a bit of a maniac...not the Peter and the test tube babies but similar. So I always count. Or I used to do...anyway, i knew that there are 18 stairs on each level of modern building...With other words there were about 40 levels, as we were warned that 700 stairs are coming. The stairs were "crafted" next to the rock. They were differing in height, width and climbing them was living hell. When we finally arrived we were all sweaty, red, eye balls coming out the holes, tongs hanging out and overall, barely moving.
This is how more or less looked every person who climbed those stairs. On the top was sort of a little tower, with souvenirs shop and bar.
We went on the tower, there was access to the roof top. with amazing views. Hills, mountains and the river and the lake, the road, forests, houses and all the world on few kilometers around. Little people, big as ant were doing their business.
I have no idea how this tower was built (well how the materials were brought here) I didn't see elevator, neither winch system or similar. While going up earlier, we passed by a guy who had big sack on the back. I assume was bringing goods for the shops or the bar. We enjoyed the views a bit more and we went down, the back to Guatape, where we got well rewarded ice creams.

We spend also a day to visit San Rafael. Got on the bus and in one hour we were there. Guatape river passes that village, creating lots of little lakes, natural pools, and small waterfalls. We crossed over the central square and walked down the river, to dip our buts in the water. A guy came to wash his clothes in the river. Save him from the water bill I guess. We dried and took off back to town. On the way to the village a guy was selling sugar cane syrup mixed with lemon. With sort of meat grinder he was squeezing the liquid out of the cane, adding some sugar, and that was it. Very refreshing drink on a hot day like this. We stop and had a glass of it. The guy didn't stop talking all the time. He explained in details how many frenchies and germans are living around, and if we would like to buy land or a house, he is the right guy to talk with. He even pulled out a map and stared to explain us in which areas is cheaper, or expensive. We told him multiple times, that we have zero interest in moving to Colombia, but he was unstoppable. I fade up with him and stopped to listen. I was looking down the valley, enjoying the juice.

|The lady from the hostel mentioned some pace, named Salento - it was located somewhere in the cafeteria area, they grow lots of coffee there and it was muy lindo! As we didn't have any plans or ideas, we decided to give a go. Bus at 9 am took us back to Medellin, where we changed with another one for Salento, to arrive at 9 pm. There was wifi in the bus, so I managed to reserve two beds in one of the hostels. Wandering around for a place to stay after 21h is not so handy. Overall most of the places we were going, we were trying to have place reserved already. We were destroyed from the 12 hours trip, so dinner was quick and then bed.
Next two days were dedicated to epic hikes. At first we went down to a valley, passing by many farms, all of them growing coffee and all of them were offering walk in the farm to introduce you to the coffee production. I am very practical person - need a coffee in my coffee mug, that's enough.
We didn't have a destination, we goal was just the walk. We were passing by sleepy country roads, forest treks and tons of coffee farms. We ended up on a cross point. As we were completely lost and had no idea where and what, we saw little hut, selling juices and milkshakes. Excellent idea to fill up with some fresh energy. Not sure if we were the only clients today, but for sure were not many.

After another hour we came to asphalt road, from where we went up to Santa Rita farm. Here we paid 5000 pesos to enter and we needed another 2 hours to cross some hill and creeks until we reach Santa Rita waterfall. That was 6-7 meter water cascade, and I wasn't impressed at all. The hike was great tho. We came back to Salento totally exhausted - I really have no idea how many kilometers we walked that day. It took us 7 hours aprox.

Cocora park was our next adventure, which started almost immediately. The transport to the park was with willy jeep - if I am not wrong, that is the jeep used by the americans in WW2. There are seats for 10 people, but Colombians are not very fanatic when we talk about numbers. Me and another 2 girls were hanging on the back. We were standing on metal rail, holding us for the roof bars. In the straight parts of the road, the guy was driving 60 km/h, maybe even faster. If you fall, you you would be veeeeeeeeeeery lucky if you get only bruises. But most likely you end up in the hospital. The ride took 20 min, no one dyed, but I am sure there are some incidents with that transportation once in a while. Once dropped off, we started 2 hours trek up, through the middle of the jungle. We went to approximately 3000 mtrs above sea level, to reach the humming bird house. Here another 5000 pesos were charged for entrance, but on walking in the house we were greeted with cheese and hot chocolate. Where is the connection between cheese and chocolate in culinary aspect, I can't say. But both of them were made up here in the farm. The humming birds - they were every where! I saw 3 different types - green ones, one black and white and few blue ones with long tails. Feeders were hanging on the trees, and it seemed that the birds are used with people around. And there were people around. Probably 40-50 tourists, sitting around, eating cheese, drinking cacao and taking photos. A lot of photos!

There is no car access here. Everything was brought by hand, donkeys or mules. I guess. And the house was a house, pretty big. Lots of donkeys were needed to bring all the bricks and cement.

From here, we walked back 15 min to take another route - sign on the path was saying Estrella de Agua. We started climbing, which was almost vertical. After 20 min, barely breathing, we came to open space, without huge trees above our heads. I managed to connect my phone to satellite - the gps locator showed us a huge carve in front of us, nearly 20 km, before we come back to the entrance of the park. There was 45% hill had no idea how long that would go, and where would go next, we had no food, a bit of water, no clothes for mountain passing. We went back, to find another route, which brought us to other farm, from where dirt road was going down the mountain. Shortly we arrived in the Palm valley - very tall palm trees, planted by people. I din't bother to search why those trees were planted here.

Valle de las palmas

Like huge obelisks, those palms were sticking out on the hills around, and the ground was covered with green, soft carpet. Happy horses and cows were grazing at the open meadow.

THe same evening, in the hostel, two guys told us, that they did the walk we didn't do. They head on at 6.30 am the same day and came back 18h. According their GPS, they walked for 37 kilometers. They seemed happy and completely drained.

We were planning to go to Villavieja in Tatacoa desert. But the Semana Santa had different plans for us. All hostels and hotels were already booked for Easter. There was a big chance to sleep on the street, I was preferring to play it safe. We stayed another day in Salento, till we figure out our next step. While thinking we found Don Juans cafeteria. That was the place with the best coffee I ever had! So much taste, so much aroma coming out of coffee mug. The coffee was coming from one of the farms around, Circacia. Here they grow it, collect it, bake it and pack it. If we didn't have another few months of travel planned, I would definitely buy 2 packs for home. We passed many countries, where coffee is big industry. Only the Colombian coffee impressed me. Anyway, with goof coffee we came to constructive ideas. In the morning we caught a bus to Armenia, where we changed with another one to Cali. We found cheap and nice hostel, 7 dollars with breakfast, swimming pool, billiards, nintedo, salsa classes. The only con was that it was 15-20 min walk from the center. And there was not much going on around the hostel. No shop, no bars, no restaurants. But it was quiet and peaceful. There is not much to do in Cali. Besides Salsa dancing. There is a hill with 3 crosses, which tourists love climbing. We prefer not to chase crosses up the mountains.

Through Cali are passing Cauca river and Cali river. On the coast of one of those are installed dozen of cats, made out of fiber glass, with the size of tiger. All of them are identical by size and shape, only the color and decoration differ. I didn't get the whole story of them, is was something with native indians mythology.

Hellraiser cat...

In the evening, we were sitting outside with glasses of rum and cola, when a girl showed up and invited us on salsa dance lesson. Cali seems to be the Salsa center of Colombia. I learned that on the flight Panama to Cartagena, there was south korean dude, flying to Cali especially to dance salsa...Well, we decided to give a go, just for the fun. I am piece of wood anyway, but after few glasses of rum, you can't hold me. We learned that the salsa has 6 different steps. The girl showed us two of them. Which I don't remember anymore

From here we hit the road to San Cipriano, which was part of plan B. In the hostel we found one american girl, Erica, which lives in Bogota, teaching english. She had week off with Easter and also wanted to go to San Cipriano. With Uber, Erica called a car, which was suppose to bring us to the bus station, but we talked to the driver a bit and he brought us to Cordoba, from where we caught the local transport to San Cipriano. Once, there was a train passing by here (someone told us that the train still passes by, once in a few weeks, to bring provisions, but I doubt most of the things I hear in Colombia). So nowadays, the train...well maybe passes, maybe not.
But how we get to San Cipriano...imagine a wooden platform, maybe 2 and half meter long, with bear rings on each corner, standing on the train rails. Then another four bearings, placed horizontal, holding the platform in between the rails, so it doesn't fly off the rails. It is powered up with a motor bike - the bike is fixed on one side of the platform, only the back wheel is on the rail and moving the platform forward. The passengers are sitting on little bench, which can be removed if the wagon is used for cargo. Our backpacks went between the bench and the motorbike. Safety was not a problem - it didn't exist at all. I had no idea what to expect from this. I kept my jacket and my trekking shoes, even tho was so hot. I choose to keep them, in case I had to jump by emergency and roll over...they were called brujitas - witches. The brujita could go only one direction (as motor bike) and as only one set of rails was available we needed to wait for the brujitas to arrive from San Cipriano first. Then they would be pushed out the rails, turned around, and put back on the rails...

San Cipriano is small village, with population of around 500 people, surrounded by jungle, right next to the river with the very same name. All the people are black, offspring of slaves I guess. Most of them live in wooden barracks, in very primitive conditions. In search of place to stay we had a look in some. Extremely dirty mattresses, rooms with gaps between the planks, that big, that mouses, spiders and rats can easily walk in and out. Spider nets were hanging everywhere. Couldn't believe those people actually want money for the shit holes like that. We found a hotel, which offered us a room for 60 000 pesos. The room had 2 double beds, and was very small for 3 person (we decided to stick together with Erika) but we took it as it was the only one that doesn't include rat poop and spider nets.

We had few more hours of day light, so we decided to use it. Had a lunch in one of the local "restaurants" which was just the kitchen of some of the black ladies. Then we went up the river, where we turned left and enter deep forest. We crossed some creeks and little waterfalls. Found a place to even jump in the river. At first the water felt cold, but once you dip your body entirely, was actually nice. We figured that there is nothing to do and one night is enough. But we were not in a rush to go back. After breakfast we hired inflated truck tires (internal) put them on our shoulders and we walked for about 40 min up the river stream. On the way there little doggy found us and decided to follow us. We found convenient place, throw the tubes in the river and jumped on top of them. The doggy decided to follow us, but the stream immediately pulled us into one rapid. The dog was goingo to be in trouble. Me and Erica started to paddle energetic towards him. Erica was quicker, took it for the neck and pulled it out the water. On the way up, while the dog was walking next to us, Erica was avoiding close contact with it. I think she was afraid of fleas or rabies or other diseases. In the middle of the river, she just put it in her lap and let it travel with her all the way down. We passed by rapids and shallower areas or slowed down in deep waters. With buts stuck in the whole of the rubber donuts, feet and the water, the stream was bringing us down the river. I can't compare this creek with Mississippi, but Huckleberry Fin came on my mind while floating down.

Once in a while my but would hit a rock, and few times i was send to the shallows, where the tube didn't go more, so I needed to get up, walk few meters with the tube in my hands. Erika traveled all the time with the dog. It was or in her lap, or on the tube. If the tube was rolling sideways, the dog would walk around, he always wanted to travel face forward. Right before the village we came to shallows, Erika let him go in the water and he swam back to the beach, looked at us a bit, then disappeared in the forest. I am sure he enjoyed it a lot. 40 min walk turned in to one and half hour drift with the water.

We returned the tires, collected our back packs and around 12 ocklock we took off, back to Cali, where we spend another evening. Erika stayed behind, we aimed to Popayan. Here all the hotels and hostels were full, the prices were double, but I managed to find a room for 22 dollars. We had no idea what is going on, when we arrive we found streets full with people, bars and restaurants full with people, churches and squares, everything full with people. Half of Colombia was here. It turned out that in Popayan is organized big parade on Easter. Every catholic with a little bit of self respect has to be here.

In the beginning of the parade are the drummers. Each 5 second about 50 timpani reproduce thunder. All pigeons left in town are now for sure chased away, younger children start to cry. The drummers walk slow, so we can enjoy them fully. I was deaf for at least 15 min after they finally left. The ceremony continued with 15ish installations, each one had statue of Jesus Christ and his surroundings, illustrating scenes from the new testaments. Juda, kissing him, Pilat, judging, the punishment, Jesus carrying the cross, being erected on it and etc...Each platform was carried by 8 guys, and those things looked like made out of strong wood. All the porters were dressed with blue gown and sandals. The installations were 70-100 meters away from eachother, between them were walking people with candles, chores, string and brass orchestras, guards, kids, street dogs, all the hobos, few cats and whatnot. All Pilgrims.

The second night was just the same, the music was the same, the orchestras and the people were the same, also the dogs and the cats. Only the platforms were different. This time were illustrating Jesus being pulled off the cross, being wrapped in the shroud from Joseph, being put in the cave (no, there was no platform with the cave, but would be interested to see) and etc.

The last evening the ceremony didn't change much. The music maybe was a bit cheerful, the drums were more playful and on the platforms was the resurrection of Jesus. And the caddies were dressed in white.

Flyers with instructions were spread around - time and location of the procession every evening, also the citizens were asked no to smoke, to talk loud and overall to behave...radical punks and metal fans were not wanted. Well, at least dressed like that was not allowed. But there was not a problem with half naked women (at least half of women aged 15-65 are dressed like whores, boobs and flesh is hanging all around and out, and colombian ladies, they have a lot from everything)

Talking about punks, it is not easy for the colombian ones. The police doesn't like them, at all!!! Wearing boots or similar shoes is forbidden if you are not authorized - if you do so, they take you as FARC member. Someone told me a story - in Bogota a tourist walked on the street with his Dr Martens. The police stopped him and forced him to put the boots off, then to undress. They throw away his clothes in the rubbish bin and sent him home naked. Nowadays maybe they wont strip you, but still, being different is not easy in Colombia. In the hostel in Cali were two guys, which were "different". Tatoos, fleshes on the ears, boots, death metal bands t-shirts (or something with bones and skulls and naked women riding a dragon sort of stuff) We spoke about punk rock with one of them. He told me that if 2 years ago, he would appears on the street the way he is dressed right now, he would be arrested. He told me also funny story about the police and the army. When a boy turns 18 years he has to draw the straw. The marble in Colombia to be precise. In a bag are rolling few marbles in different colors. The poor thing has to put his hand in and pick one. Black marble means he goes in the army. Red one means he goes to serve in the police. White one is the lucky one - going home. There is possibility to buy yourself out of service. If daddy has no cash, and the boy doesn't have kids he will serve for one year. If you are molested on the street don't expect 18 years to jump in for you. He doesn't want to wear the uniform, neither to be there and to serve for anything. After one year, they can choose to go back to normal, or to continue.

Back to Popayan...it is called the white town. All buildings in the central area are painted in white.

The colombians loved us. I didn't get it why. Twice we were asked if people can take photos with us. I saw only few European tourists around. I could easily be Argentinean, I think, even local (if I am keeping my mouth shut and not trying to speak Spanish). But Helen is tall, blond and such a kind doesn't grow around that part of the globe.

During the day were many markets with souvenirs, folklore festivals, art expositions, and almost on each corner something was happening. Easter was a big thing. For traders and vendors was great!

Sunday we took of again - this time the direction was San Augustin. Hippie village, somewhere in the mountains. The bus dropped us on the exit for S.A. where we took another vehicle. We went on the back of grey pick up, which brought us to the village. We found a hotel (booked in advance) which happen to be quiet and decent. We had some time to wander around, but was not that much to see. One street had some souvenir shops so we checked them out. I wanted to buy me sort of mochila - I found the bags of the locals nice - sort of rug back for one shoulder, knitted from wool or cotton. Very colorful bags, or black and white or colored with the Colombian flag. Didn't find one to like anyways.
The reason to come here was the archaeological park, which exposes 130 stone statues. Humans, frogs, lizards and snakes, all carved from the rocks. Dated back 3000 years ago and very little was known about them. Even less for the people who carved them. The archaeologists were mostly guessing about the role and the importance of those.
When we went in the park, the whole day was raining. Of course, when we walked out the park, the rain stopped. The ticket which they gave us was valid also for another place, but we were supposed to hire a car to get there. Or horses. The forecast was giving lots of rain next days, so we decided that 130 carved statues are enough for now. On the next morning we jumped in the back of another car, toyota hilux, very luxury I tought, and the toyota brought us to Pitalito.

Here we got another bus to Mocoa. The goal was Pasto, but it was too much for one day and we decided to sleep a night in Mocoa. I remember we were still in Santa Marta, when Mocoa came on the TV news. After heavy rains, avalanche of mud fell off the mountains in the river bed, pulling big rocks. The houses along the river were swept. A guy in one of the buses was telling to his sit mate = first came the water. A lot of water. Streets and small bridges disappeared underneath. Then followed the mud. And to top it up, the water pushed rocks of 3-4 meters the biggest. Cars destroyed, houses fully ruined or partly missing walls, windows, full with mud and brunches. More than 500 people died or missing. When we arrived were already 3 weeks after the tragedy. The buildings around the bus terminal (which is the lowest part of town) were still full with mud, rocks and brunches. Mocoa river is floating in Amazon river...Mocoa went crazy!

Everywhere on the streets were posters with missing people, mostly kids - call that number if you see...Too dark and sad to take photos of those.

We hired room in cheap hotel in the center. We went down the coffee next door to take a beer. On the table next to us were sitting 3 canadians and one guy from Ecuador and we had a chat with them. They were volunteering to help. Mapping the place where the river over flooded. Two days ago the army and the fire department stopped with searching of missing people. The chance to find someone alive was less than 1%. The missing people were or under the rocks, or gone with the flood. Bodies will emerge next weeks. Adults could protect themselves better than kids...many young souls were taken away...

From Mocoa we continued towards Pasto. We crossed the Andes, passing the Trampoline de Diablo - one of the most dangerous roads in Colombia. The road is slippery when it rains, chances of mud avalanches, and if the car come out of the track, the cliffs are few hundred meters. Two cars have difficulties to pass eachother, sometimes the other has to back up for 50 meters till wider part of the road. Hundreds people died here since it was made from the military during the 30's of the last century.When we crossed the pass there were barriers most of the way, but some of them were ripped off from rocks falling down. We saw many waterfalls on the side of the road, some of them 2 meters high, others were 50...some of them we literally drove through. Some were flowing directly on the road. After nearly 6 hours we arrived in Pasto. We planned to visit the volcano near by, with a lake in the crater. But it was raining all the time, as well both of us felt tired from adventures and emotions. We gave ourselves a brake before entering Ecuador. We spent a day wandering around Pasto. Not much to see tho. We found archaeological museum and we went in. What was interesting here wasn't the artifacts, but the conversation I had with a 65 years old guy, which we met inside.

He first started a conversation. In English he asked us where we are coming from and welcomed us in Colombia. We switched the conversation into Spanish.

He was surprised to hear that I am from Bulgaria. And he was one of the few people, who heard of Bulgaria. He knew BG was ex socialistic country and was on the east part of the iron curtain. He was interested about it. I said that I don't remember much, but what I notice is that in the capitalism are many poor and few rich and everyone stands alone. He got enthusiastic hearing my words.

Somewhere here I got the strangest question during the travel so far:

- are you Jewish? - I needed some time to process it, as I was a bit confused for a moment - Judeos and jodidos sound similar in Spanish, especially when there is accent and it is not my mother tongue. Judeos means Jewish, jodidos means fucked. Can't be interpreted in many ways.

- Jewish like Israelis you mean? - I wanted to be sure i understood correctly.

- Yes.

- No, we are not Jewish, I am from Bulgaria, she is Dutch - i said. Shout of happiness followed, then he shook my hand. He was extremely happy from the fact that there are not Jewish infront of him and he can shake the hands of non-jewish people.

- Why the Jewish are bothering you so much? Anyway they are not so much in this part of the world.

- They are full with money and want even more. - he said to me.

I choose not to go further in that, everyone has the right on his opinion. He was a racist. Nice old guy, but a racist. We said few more words for good buy and left him.

The Colombians are very open minded and curious people. I noted big difference between them and the other countries we visited so far. All the time they would start a conversation with us, they were interested where we are coming from, how is life in Europe, the countries we come from, what do we work and etc. In other places often we would be asked where we are from, just to start a conversation, till next moment when someone would try to sell me weed or taxi or something else. Just trying to get under my skin to sell their shit. But in Colombia...they really wanted to know about the world outside.Colombians were also proud of their country, it's beauty and variety and they were happy that foreigners would come from far to visit them. Colombia is known with violence, drug cartels and FARC, which pushes the tourism away for long time. Today is quieter and more peaceful, little by little, people from near and far are heading this way in search of nature and beauty. I have no idea how many times someone would tell us "welcome in Colombia". In the bus from Pasto to the border we were traveling with 10 years old boy. Helen was busy with him I was trying to sleep. The kid didn't stop asking - are they cows in Holland, are they bikes, and trees, and everything...it is a kid you would say. I also remember being on the back of a truck when adult wouldn't stop asking us for Bulgaria or Holland.

We spent 4 weeks in Colombia. We saw a little part of all its pearls. From the travels till now, I had Guatemala in my top country. Now, year later, looking all back, I can say that Colombia is the best country I have ever visit so far. Judging from transport, road communications, hostels, nature variety, people...so friendly, so nice. For sure I am coming back. Don't know when, but I am willing to make efforts, to visit again!