Adventures along the Caribbean in Colombia and Reuniting with Old Friends

The nice thing about returning to a place where you've been before, is that things are more familiar and the return trip seems to go much smoother. If you're lucky, maybe you made a few friends on your first trip and have someone to visit when you go back again.

This second trip to Colombia was all about visiting old friends and I felt comfortable and relaxed traveling solo to a not-so-foreign place.

Roland was kind enough to take some time away from his hostel to show me around his neck of the woods in the in northern Colombia, along the Caribbean. We hiked up from his town of Palomino into the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas, visiting with local Kogui people - his neighbors and friends - along the way.  We walked along a dirt road that narrowed into a footpath, which became a strenuous hiking trail. People who live up here (mostly natives) rely on the land to survive and make trips into town with horses and mules to sell produce, coffee, butter and handwoven bags along the highway.  We passed families who were all making this trek down into town. It was clear that everyone had a role, even small children who helped carry things down or steer a horse. Roland and I were going in the opposite direction, away from town and up into the hills to take in the beauty of the river. To escape the heat of the day, visitors can go tubing down the calm waters and it eventually spits you out into the ocean.

Another day we hiked into Parque Tayrona, a National Park along some of Colombia's most beautiful coastline. The entrance is half way between Santa Marta and Palomino, so either of these places is a good jumping off point for visiting the park. We went with a girl visiting from Belgium as well as a local Palomino girl who lives at his hostel. It was a full day adventure, with a hilly five mile hike in to reach beautiful beach coves, which made for a refreshing swim before hiking back to reach the car by sundown. A lot of people backpack in and camp inside the park. If you do this, I recommend packing light and realize that you will be sleeping in a tent next to lots of other people. The views are incredible though. 

A red flag marks dangerous, forceful water where swimming is prohibited.

Crowded campground inside the park

No cars can reach this point but venders manage to carry in jewelry and other items to sell

Another nice spot to visit is Minca, a mountainous little coffee growing town, just up the hill from the coastal city of Santa Marta. This is definitely worth a visit and its 2100ft elevation is a breath of fresh air after spending time on the hot and humid coastline. We stayed at Casa Loma, which can only be reached by climbing up about 400 steps from town, but the view from the top is worth it. The British owner, Jay, is a friend of Roland's and welcomed us in like family. 

Casa Loma has a tree-house-like feel to it

After hauling our bags up the 400 or so steps a cold Aguila (Colombian brew) was a nice way to cool off and take in our surroundings.

View from the hostel

The next couple of days were spent hiking to waterfalls, tasting the local coffee, happy hour on a recently built deck above the hostel and delicious vegetarian dinners with other guests at the outdoor communal tables. 

Iguana just hangin' out in a tree

Casa Loma is a wifi-free zone, but there is an outlet mounted into a tree for charging your devices!

Roland on a business call

Safe(?) river crossing

A little "cafe" (which was really just someone's house) with Garfield at the entrance to greet us

The time went by quickly and before I knew it, I was saying goodbye to Roland and was on a flight to Bogota. (Viva Colombia offers cheap domestic flights which are faster and often cheaper than taking a long bus ride). From Bogota I took a 4 hour bus ride back to my beloved town of Villa de Leyva, where I volunteered a couple of years ago at the Colombian Highlands hostel. The rest of Roland's family lives and works at the hostel and this is where I met Roland and several other locals who became friends during the 5 weeks I spent there. 

Other than Roland's brother Oscar who owns the hostel, I hadn't talked to anyone in Villa to tell them I was coming. Since Oscar was out of town and I had nobodies phone number, I arrived in my familiar town feeling like any other visitor: I knew no one. Not a problem; Villa is a small town with a big central plaza where most people congregate in the evenings. As soon as I arrived at the hostel I dropped my bags and walked straight down to the plaza. I decided to get a beer and sit on a bench in the plaza to wait until I saw someone I knew. 

My plan worked! I hadn't even finished my beer before I heard my name from a familiar voice with a middle-eastern accent. "Tracy?!" It was Ali! Oscar's brother-in-law! He heard that I would be coming but wasn't sure when. Right away we decided to go to dinner to catch up (I love how people live for the moment here).  As we were walking down the cobblestone road I asked him about Mauricio, the wine maker. Just then Mauricio approached us from the opposite direction, completely surprised to see me. We all chatted for a bit and made plans to go biking and visit Mauricio's new apartment/winery in a couple days. 

The rest of my time in Villa fell in place just like that. I connected with old friends, made new ones and by the end wasn't ready to leave.

Lunch with Ali after picking out delicious produce at the farmer's market

Avocados come in a variety of sizes in Colombia

Reunited with my little friend Carolina at the hostel

Finally visited the crazy clay house in town

Henry, the bike shop owner, was still wearing the "Si Se Puede" bracelet that I gave to him 2 years ago

Fernando Botero, the talented artist and one of the kindest people I have ever met, surprised me in the plaza with a bread loaf full of flowers

Last night in Villa, sipping on Mauricio's delicious wine at the Enoteca.

My return flight to the states was from the beautiful city of Medellin, Colombia. I am so enamored with the art of "The Other Fernando Botero" who lives in Villa de Leyva, that I decided to pay a visit to the more famous Fernando Botero. Known for his inflated sculptures and painted figures with works all over the world, he is originally from Medellin. My hotel happened to be across the street from the Botero park and museum.

There are over 23 bronze sculptures outside in the park, for all of the public to enjoy.

Perhaps voluptuous Colombian women are a source of his inspiration? 

The park/plaza is a nice escape from the busy city streets, and gave me something interesting to do while waiting for my bus to the airport. 

Goodbye for now Colombia. I will return again. 

Palomino

The reunion with an old friend was just as exciting as I had anticipated. Some friends of Roland made us a delicious dinner at his hostel, Jaguar Azul and afterward we swung in the hammocks, catching up and picking up right where we left off two years ago.

The next morning turned out to be one of my favorite mornings that I've ever experienced. I woke up to a tap on the door of my private room. It was Roland delivering a hot cup of locally grown and roasted coffee from the nearby Kogui tribe (So local you could walk there!). He was on his way out for the morning, and left me with my delicious cup o' joe and the morning songbirds gracing me with their presence. I sat on the patio in the sun, enjoying the surroundings of this peaceful place that Roland calls home. The hostel is simple and humble, with just two private rooms and two dorms. There is an open-air kitchen and covered common area with a few hammocks hanging in lieu of furniture. Surrounding the hostel are tall trees and vibrant green brush.

My quarters ("para la princesa")

Palomino is a small, relatively "undiscovered" town, with a population of roughly 4000. It's a beach town, yet the Sierra Nevada mountains and exotic jungle reach all the way to the ocean, along with 2 rivers: Lagarto and Palomino. Roland's hostel, Jaguar Azul is sandwiched between the two ecosystems, about a mile and a half from the beach and on the way up high into the Sierra Nevada Mountains where native tribes live. His hostel is in the town proper, where most of the locals live.
 
As the caffeine kicked in, I decided to put on my running shoes and go exploring. I headed down the dirt road that the moto-taxi had brought me in on, past simple homes, a few tiny tiendas selling fruit, veggies, eggs and some canned goods, and a field with sheep roaming. A woman was hanging laundry out to dry, a couple of men were chatting jovially outside of a tienda, and a few small children were chasing each other, darting up and down the dirt road. With each step and every new observation I was falling more and more in love.  It was evident that people here were friendly and laid back. As I approached the main highway that the bus came in on, I noticed a few artists painting a mural on a wall across from the gas station.

Street in Palomino, where the locals live

These clever guys made a guitar out of a piece of driftwood

Artists painting a mural across from the gas station

I crossed the road and headed down another dirt road, in the direction of what I knew would eventually lead to the Caribbean Ocean. The narrow road followed green fields, trees and marshland, and after about a mile the road turned to sand. Farmland was replaced with bright colors of hostels and tiki bars and the end of the road opened up to the palm-lined beach. It looked like it could be a post-card with "Paradise" written in fancy font across the sky. I slowed my pace and took off my shoes to feel the sand under my feet. It was more beautiful and more peaceful than I had expected, with just a handful of hostels and a sign or two advertising things like "Morning yoga and meditation" and "fresh fruit juices".  I was keenly aware that I had left the village where the locals live and entered "gringo-landia", but it wasn't over-the-top or crowded, so I didn't' mind at all. There were just a few people walking along the shore in front of the hostels, and beyond that it was desolate.

I stashed my shoes under a huge, pillow-sized leaf next to a log and continued my run along the coastline. The hostels quickly disappeared behind me as I splashed my feet in the water, trotting along the horizon with infinite water to my left and dense trees to my right. Eventually, the beach and River Lagarto intersect and the river spills into the ocean. It was quite the contrast to look north and see vast ocean, and then turn inland to see a wide river and dense forest.

The intersection of river and ocean creates a diverse ecosystem in Palomino

Rio Lagarto

Eventually, I made my way back to "gringo-landia" beach as the sun was rising higher and heating things up. I was glad that I brought some pesos with me so I could treat myself to fresh coconut water, which a woman sliced open for me with her machete and a smile.

I paid 4000 pesos ($2), which Roland later informed me was overpriced. But hey, sometimes it's worth splurging $2 for a refreshing drink in the perfect moment that comes with an incredible view.

Returning to Colombia

As the wheels of the plane hit the tarmac a man seated in front of me shouts out "Viva Colombia!" and the hushed voices and silence erupts into cheering, clapping and laughter. I laugh out loud, contributing a "whoop!" and gaze out at the green rolling hills surrounding the city of Medellin. I am so happy to be back in Colombia!

It's been a year and a half since I came here on my first solo adventure, and stayed for nearly the whole summer. I have so many fond memories of working in the hostel in Villa de Leyva, exploring the area on a rusty bicycle and making friends with the locals. Because of the agricultural strikes and road closures that happened near the end of my trip, I was unable to return to Villa de Leyva to say goodbye to the friends I had made, and my suitcase that I had left there did not return home with me to the US. More than the loss of what I had left in my suitcase (mainly clothes, a few gifts and some biking equipment), I felt sad to leave without one last goodbye.

A ride in the hills with the local bike club, 2013

Friends I made on my first trip to Colombia: Willy, Carolina and Roland

I did keep in touch with the Gilede family that owns the hostel and as soon as I bought my plane ticket I let them know that I would be returning. One of the brothers, Roland, owns and runs another hostel on the northern Caribbean coast of Colombia in a small beach town called Palomino. I never made it there on my last trip so I decided I would go this time. I wrote Roland to tell him that I would be coming and he said he would have the town ready to welcome me.

I found a cheap flight from Denver to Medellin ($400 round trip through Spirit Airlines).  I stayed one night in Medellin before flying domestically to Santa Marta, which is just an hour and a half bus ride away from Palomino. My night in Medellin was a weird and lonely one. The few people at the hostel I stayed at seemed to have no interest in making friends or joining me for dinner so I hit the town alone, walking up and down the busy strip of restaurants and bars before settling on what seemed to be the most authentic. The food was just OK, which was a disappointment after reading that food in this city was spectacular. I doubted my intuition at finding a good place and felt awkward as I sat alone in this strange new place.

Busy street of Medellin

The next morning I bought a sim card for my phone, sent Roland a text and caught a taxi back to the airport to catch my flight to Santa Marta. As the taxi wove through traffic, my phone rang and Roland was on the other end. I was excited but then nervous as he rattled off a long list of instructions in Spanish and much of it became lost in translation. Was it going to be that complicated to get to his place in Palomino? I admitted that my Spanish had become a little rusty and he laughed and said that after a few days with him it would come back. I wished that he would just meet me at the airport and take care of this helpless little gringa girl!

Instead, I held my head up high after landing and bargained down the taxi drivers to get me to the bus station for a reasonable fare. I had to wait for an hour and a half at the dirty bus terminal but eventually got on the bus that goes nearly all the way to Venezuela. I informed the bus driver that I would be getting off along the way in Palomino and to please let me know when we are there (apparently it's easy to miss). I found two empty seats in the back of the full bus and thought I had the row to myself until a very large (and drunk) man sat down next to me. My guard was up but he ended up being completely harmless and I was happy to practice my Spanish by explaining the storyline of The Green Mile, which was playing on the TV screen to entertain (or rather to distract) passengers as the bus raced to our destination.

Bus Terminal, Santa Marta

By the time the bus arrived in Palomino, it was dark out. I forgot that the sun goes down around 6pm in this equatorial country. The bus driver stopped at the one gas station in town and shouted "Palomino!" I jumped up, grabbed my backpack and hopped off the air-conditioned bus into the warm night air. A boy on a motorcycle spotted me and inquired, "Taxi?". "Sí!" I responded. I hopped on the back and told him my destination, "Jaguar Azul". As we drove up the pot-holed dirt road, I could hardly contain my excitement. I'm here! I'm really here!

How to entertain family and friends on a hut trip with no snow

It's a risky endeavor to mix friends with family for several days in the confined space of a 500 square foot hut; A hut that is a 3 mile hike in, and isolated from the outside world. (No television, no internet, no phones). It's the kind of place where you have to rely on nature and company for entertainment. 

Bringing together friends and family in this kind of situation has the potential for ultimate disaster. If everyone doesn't get along there will be inescapable tension and awkwardness, for which you will feel responsible. Even if everyone does get along, there is a good chance that you will feel uncomfortable, especially if your parents are anything like mine and embarrass you without even trying. 

As an adult in my 30's I thought that by now I would be past getting embarrassed by my parents but that is SO not the case! (My mom always finds a way). She says what's on her mind, which at times is unsensored and inappropriate. My mom's outlandish remarks usually turn me scarlet while bringing comic relief to others, making her all the more lovable to them and all the more aggravating to me. (Please, please let her refrain from making crude jokes and gestures after a few too many vodka tonics!)

It's well known that hut trips reveal the true colors of your companions. There is just no getting around it when you are sharing eating and sleeping (and pooping) quarters, with very little privacy. That, and there is no outside stimulation to distract you. When the sun goes down behind the mountain at 3:30pm, there is a lot of downtime spent in a small shared living space. It's the kind of environment that inspires heavy drinking and creative games to keep entertained. It's either that, or really good snow conditions that keep you outside and moving all day so that the hut it just used as a shelter to eat and sleep. 

We did not have the fortune of good snow and had to rely on booze and creativity. We booked the Lost Wonder Hut, which sits outside of Poncha Springs at 11,000 feet. Although we were up there in early February, the balmy weather and spotty snowpack made it feel more like April. In fact, parts of our "ski" in were dry patches of dirt, which forced us to take off our skis and carry them with our poles and the two sleds that carried the "extras" that didn't fit into our packs. From what I can recall, we had 10 bottles of wine, over 40 cans of beer, 3 liters of homemade Bloody Mary's and a bottle of whiskey...For eleven of us. 

It's common knowledge that drinking is a great ice breaker for bringing together strangers that are about to spend 3 days in the mountains together. Five minutes after arriving to our hut, beers were cracked open, wine was flowing and a spread of salami and cheese covered the picnic table. The music and speakers came out too, and it felt like our own private party among the majestic snowcapped mountains. By dinner time the whiskey was getting passed around and somehow we convinced the boys to do the dishes...naked. Don't get too excited; they were only half naked, some from the top up and one (ahem, my husband) from the bottom down. They all kept their underwear on, which was probably a good thing. (Remember we were sharing this experience with my parents and father-in-law). 

After all the dishes were clean and squealing from the girls had ceased, our friend Justin pulled out his big black box of Cards Against Humanity. What a game to play with your parents: The next 2 hours brought out the most vulgar sides of everyone and had us all laughing until our stomachs hurt. I was realizing that I didn't need to worry about my mom acting inappropriate in this crowd. Everyone was inappropriate! 

On day two we all surprised ourselves and were up with the sun and ready to play in the snow. After a hearty breakfast scramble, with tortillas and bloody mary's, we strapped on skis and snowshoes and tromped up the valley. The snow was thin, with a layer of crust on top of soft snow with rocks, stumps and bushes poking out everywhere. It was terrible snow for skiing. Still, we all had a good time and came back with smiles on our faces.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with launching off a kicker on sleds, games of poker, Goddess card readings, yoga on the patio, lighthearted conversations and deep, meaningful conversations (accompanied by wine). That evening it was the girls turn to do dishes...and yes, we stripped down to our sports bras while singing and dancing. A solar powered strobe light even came out! As I attempted to shake what my momma gave me while simultaneously scrubbing a saucepan, it hit me how well everyone was getting along and how much FUN we were all having! What's more is that my mom hadn't even embarrassed me. Is it that I have become more comfortable and no longer get embarrassed? Has she become more tame? Or is it that my friends are just as rowdy and unsensored as she is?  

My answer came after devouring the legendary fudge brownies that my father-in law makes every time we get together. Our friends Tricia and Colin introduced us to a game called "What would you do if". It required using our own creativity to come up with comical questions and answers. Apparently the game from the night before influenced us, as we all seemed a little too comfortable coming up with inappropriate questions and answers. We were so caught up in this raunchy behavior that it became our new normal. It all came to a halt when my mom's name and a very derogatory remark were matched up (this was all by chance, by the way). We were all laughing hysterically. Everyone that is...except for my mom. She suddenly got up from the table and called it a night. We were stunned. Did we actually offended the Momma Bear? My mom, the queen of inappropriate comments? Had we really offended and embarrassed HER? None of us knew for sure. Of course, in any other situation it would be expected that someone's mom would be offended after hearing her name used in such a derogatory sentence (it's too offensive to even write here). 

No one else dared to ask, so it was up to me to find out from my mom the next day how badly we offended her. She laughed and said "Not at all!", that she was just looking for an excuse to go to bed. She added, "That was the most fun I've ever had on a hut trip". I silently sighed in relief. I also agreed with her. This had been an especially fun trip. It turns out that bringing together friends and family in a little hut can work. My fears of mixing the two were unfounded!

It seems we all shared this sentiment. "When it comes to hut trips" says my friend Justin, "the enjoyment is all about the company". He is absolutely right. We didn't need epic snow. Having great company made the trip. "Oh, and large quantities of alcohol" he adds. Well, I can't argue with that. We're already talking about plans for another hut trip next year...and possibly three sleds.