A Colombian Adventure: The Beginning...

June 18-19: Buenos Aires-Lima-Bogota (6,000km, 1 stop-over, 8 hours)

After a delayed start (we were supposed to fly on the 17^th in the early morning, but our oldest daughter Edie got sick so we had to postpone our flight for 36 hours), and a mostly pleasant flight via Lima, we arrived in Bogota around 01.00am Saturday morning, June 19.

Getting off the plane and walking through the airport, one still feels the remainders of Colombia’s recent past; military are predominantly present, you feel you are being watched and controls are thorough. The lady at the money exchange is most definitely not the nicest person in the world (but who would be sitting there at that time of night) and in order to change 60 USD, one needs to fill in a form as if applying for a US visa, including hotel address, personal signature and fingerprints.

But that is just one side of things. Overall, people are friendly, very friendly. Most Colombians we encountered are genuinely happy with the fact foreigners come to see their country now; that they can show what they have. They do not only try to make you feel at home, or make sure you are safe; they are open and direct, honest and reality-driven. And on top of that, they are funny. Colombian humor, though black at times, seems to be what has pulled this nation and its people through its darker recent times. I am sure we will have a great time here, this time, and all the times in the future when we will come back to visit, and set up our office.

Colombia makes me think of Peru 15 years ago. Leaving behind a long period of civil unrest, the country is cautiously opening up its doors to the outside. People go out of their way to make sure you know you can travel here, that you should be careful, but not worry too much about safety; that the safety situation these days is similar to that of most countries in the continent. Hotels in Bogota still have small warning pamphlets in the rooms and the streets are crowded with police and military, but the atmosphere is joyful, busy, aimed forward. It is obvious this country is ready for a new era, an era of peace and connectivity with the rest of the world.

The capital, no, the whole country seems to be under construction; roads are blocked everywhere, not because of safety regulations, but because they are being repaired, widened, improved. Colombians are traveling outside the safety of their immediate environment and most of the streets in Bogota, and the main roads in many parts of surrounding Colombia, are teeming with traffic. All the work being done means delays at present, but soon traffic will be able to flow freely through a country that has been waiting to be explored for so long.

June 19: Bogota – Villa de Leyva (180km, 4hs)

We drove To Villa de Leyva yesterday afternoon, some 4 hours by car from Bogota. Only 180km separate the two towns, and most of it is (going to be) 4-lane highway, but due to uncountable road construction sites and the above mentioned traffic we hit an average of 50kmph, more or less. No problem at all of course; we are exploring Colombia, at last! First impression is that Colombia will make an excellent driving country, but for now this will be restricted. Car rental companies are mainly small and operate locally only; drop off fees do not exist or are forbiddingly high. Next to that hardly anybody speaks English and the recently introduced Satellite Navigation Systems do not have the maps of the country properly loaded yet. This will all change soon, no doubt, but for now we feel Colombia is a great country to visit either in a group with a bilingual tour conductor, or individually with a private guide and driver.

Villa de Leyva is a colonial dream town set in magical, cloud-forest-covered mountains and surrounded by numerous national parks home to geological, natural and historical treasures, most of them still inaccessible to the average visitor. We stay in the quaint, colonial style Hotel La Candelaria, on the northern end of town, an old mansion recently converted into this beautiful, 8-room boutique hotel.

June 20, Villa de Leyva

The main thing that made this trip, and our ten-year dream of opening an office here, feasible is Colombia’s newly found safety, wrought by leaving president, Alvaro Uribe, and his government of the past eight years. Today is Election Day and we talk to local people in the town of Villa de Leyva about who they will vote for.

Something truly phenomenal is happening here in Colombia. After decades of complete political uncertainty and lack of proper leadership, eight-years ago Alvaro Uribe came along, and ever since has been busy putting the country back on the geo-political map. Today, thanks to an absolutely fantastic, worldwide rebranding campaign, foreigners know Colombia as the country where “the only risk is that you’ll want to stay”, something opposite to its reputation in the recent past. Traveling here I can understand why this slogan was chosen. However, it would never have gotten hold had the country not been truly reorganized, safety returned to its streets and hope and trust restored in its people. I came to Colombia for the first time in 1992, at the end of the same 4-month trip that took me to Peru as well. Both countries were in similar circumstances then. Peru emerged from terrorism and uncertainty in 1995-96, when the Shining Path was largely silenced and its leader, Abimael Guzman, captured, by then president Alberto Fujimori. From that moment on, Peru slowly opened itself up to the outside world and, as mentioned before, our experiences there in those days have many similarities to what we see and hear in Colombia today.

Another impressive feat for a country so freshly back on track is the fact that today Colombians have the option to choose between two outstanding candidates for the Presidency: former Defense Minister and Uribe’s favorite, Juan Manuel Santos, and former Mayor of Bogota Antanas Mockus, preferred by the country’s students. Both candidates have a formidable political agenda, are very well prepared for the job and most countries’ people in this continent should consider themselves proud and very lucky to have the opportunity to choose only one of them. How Colombia managed to produce the political strength and vigor it shows in its current president and the two candidates to follow him, requires a deep political analysis, that has no place (yet?) in this story, but the mere fact earns Colombia and its people a lot of credit and respect. It also shows that Colombians are done with the past and ready for change, ready for a future that is in their hands - exciting times, for sure.

June 21, Villa de Leyva – Bogota

Pfff, seems the time difference is affecting the kids more than normally. They keep waking up around 4.30-5am, which even when corrected to their natural clocks (2 hours later), is very, very early. Must be the clean mountain air or something… Bueno, at least it gives me some time to write until breakfast is served. Let me finish where I left off yesterday:

The end of Election Day showed another interesting feature of Colombian thinking. After Mr. Mockus had initially sprung up in the polls to potentially win the elections, the first round showed a favorable position for Mr. Santos, something that was confirmed when the majority of the votes were accounted for and he was elected as Colombia’s next President. Today is “ley seca”; it is forbidden to drink alcohol in public from 24 hours before until right after the elections, so our waiter is serving our beer in teacups and hiding the bottles. He says: “I am a student and Mockus is by far my favorite because he is a former teacher himself and has vouched to bring education back to the top ranks of the political agenda. But today it is just a little early for Mr. Mockus to take the stand, we are still living uncertain times and safety needs to be restored completely before we can start thinking about further reforms. Mr. Santos has the better cards to make sure that Colombia becomes a safe and stable nation. Without safety we are nowhere; without safety we cannot move on. That is why I chose Santos today; I want my country to be safe. Next round will hopefully be for Mr. Mockus.”

For me this clarifies what is happening here; Colombian people are not only done with the past and ready for the future to be in their hands; they are also very carefully handling that new-found responsibility, and moving cautiously to make sure that today will truly mark the continuance of change for the better, and that a solid base will be created to build that future upon. We have seen many bad examples of political manipulation for ourselves over the past 15 years, so being here and listening to the people, seeing how they truly take up the task of making sure they get the right representation for this time, feels like a breath of fresh air. This country is getting ready for a bright future and we sure want to be here when it happens.

Brazil, a land of contrasts – Part 3

Hello and welcome to the final installment of my Brazil road-trip!

Morro de Sao Paulo
After Carnaval is over, most Brazilians just want to keep on partying, and so they decided to do just that! The ‘Resaca do Carnaval’ (Carnaval’s hangover) is possibly even bigger than Carnaval itself in terms of national tourism, and for most places this means that the party goes on for the rest of the week. There was a time when this would have been the perfect bait for me to hit Salvador for eight days and really turn the town inside out, but nowadays other pleasures and obligations are at the top of the priority list. So, we drove straight through Salvador, made our way past the party tents, and had a cab driver lead the way to the Mercado Modelo, next to which our ferry would leave to the Isle of Tinhare and the town of Morro do Sao Paulo. We managed to park our car in the Marina, not too far from the docks and crossed the strait between Tinhare and the mainland on a big Catamaran, surrounded by sleeping people on their way to the after party.

Tinhare, and Morro in particular, have in recent years become THE place to celebrate the Resaca, so we had booked a small “Fazenda” (farm hotel) outside of town. There are officially no cars on that part of the island (we later found out there are several, but they are kept out of sight) and an army of “taxistas” (in this case strong men with wheelbarrows) offer themselves to carry your bags and suitcases from the port to your hotel. Since our fazenda was located on Praia 3 (the third beach from the port) we reluctantly paid the 20 reais (some 10 USD) to have our luggage pushed through the sand, up and down the hills to our next resting place. It turned out to be a great decision as it was 35 degrees Celsius outside and the walk was a lot longer than expected. Dao, our wheelbarrow-driver turned out to be a great guy, so we contracted him for the way back as well. Tinhare is a great spot to relax. Hammocks, sundowners on the beach, great ocean views, a little swimming in warm natural pools at low tide, tremendous amounts of palm trees, hunting for crabs and monkey spotting filled our time during most of our four days there. Great for us and the kids to get our batteries recharged and move on with renewed energy. Sadly our trip was almost over…

Salvador
Even though we did not visit due to Carnival, I want to say a little bit about Salvador de Bahia. With its fantastic swimming beaches, the largest collection of colonial architecture in Latin America, and a vibrant modern culture, this city has perhaps the richest living cultural mix in the country, with a multitude of Afro-Caribbean bands and performers. We sadly did not have the time to really explore this exciting city, but I will certainly go back in one of my upcoming trips.

Itacimirim
We took the ferry back to Salvador (very strong currents this time, so we all got sea sick, something to keep in mind when you make this crossing), grabbed a cab to the marina and had an excellent lunch at the Soho Sushi bar. We were somewhat surprised by the high-end cliental, as we ourselves looked like a couple of sun-burnt hippies with two semi-wild kids running around the place. After lunch we picked up the car and drove to Itacimirim (5km short of Praia do Forte on our way back north), where we stayed in the Pousada Praia das Ondas, on a beach with the same name. We had planned for one night, but ended up staying another one as both the food and the company were great, plus it was our last chance to relax on the beach. Itacimirim is a small place, but very nice, a little like what Praia do Forte must have looked like before it was developed for tourism. If you are not looking for all the fancy stuff, and if you like bigger waves (the ocean is a bit rougher here, a nice change after hundreds of kilometers of bounty beaches), this is a great spot to use as a base to get to know the area. Around the corner from Praia, close to Salvador and 6 hours driving from Lencois - Itacimirim certainly did it for us.

Maragogi
On the way back to our final destination, Recife, we stopped in Maragogi at the beautiful Posada Maragogi, run by a Dutch/Brazilian couple. After some good Dutch koffie and a relaxing couple of hours overlooking their beach we drove on to Praia Carneiros, where we had lunch at a place called BoraBora. This is one of the most beautiful beaches of the entire region and it is frequented by locals and Brazilians from all over the country. Located on a private Fazenda, BoraBora does not see that many foreigners, and as always we were met with friendly, though somewhat surprised looks from people not used to hearing Dutch, or seeing a man walk around with a backpack containing a two-year old child. That child being our Noa, with white-blond hair, large deep-blue eyes and a one-month Brazilian tan… one can imagine I got a lot of attention. Young fathers, this is your chance to shine!

After lunch we went for a walk along the beach and of course lost track of time, and yet again ended up driving in the dark. When we arrived in Recife, instead of trying to find the hotel for our last night, we drove directly to the airport, unloaded all our stuff, plus one month’s worth of dust, sand, rocks, empty water bottles and more good news, returned the car to our hire company and had a cab driver take us ‘home’. One short night later (we had to get up at 3.50am), we were on our way to the airport for a flawless set of flights back to Buenos Aires, where we were welcomed by the last thunderstorm of the season. Home sweet home, even if only for two-weeks before my next flight out…

Epilogue
What did strike me in Porto Galinhas (and probably because I was reading the final pages of “A death in Brazil”, an amazing book about the country, and especially that area, by Australian writer Peter Robb) is that Brazil is a very particular country with a very particular people. Sitting there in that big resort, between a couple more resorts, smacked down in the middle of what must have been stunningly beautiful nature once upon a time, but is now surrounded by heavy industry, it became utterly clear that I needed to look at Brazil in context. This country has only known democracy for roughly 15 years; it has the most thoroughly mixed races of all of the former European colonies and its history is one of oppression of the vast, poor majority by a small elite group, until very recently. Brazil is largely self-sufficient and its mostly independent and strongly growing economy does not really seem to need foreign tourism. As a matter of fact some hoteliers I spoke to explained they depend about 80% on local tourism for most of the year.

Brazilians in general are very nice and warm people, friendly, welcoming and genuinely interested. The fabulous Brazilian kitchen, some truly amazing sights, a rough but intriguing past, the vastness of the Amazon Basin and thousands of kilometers of stunning beaches combine to make Brazil a fantastic destination that can’t fail to grow on you in one way or another. Treat it with proper respect and prepare for a true adventure into a nature, a culture and a gastronomy that will have you hooked, and most likely leave you wanting to visit time and time again.

Happy trails!

Bart

Fire & Ice - from volcanic ash to a BAires hail storm

After watching coverage of the volcano in Iceland over the weekend, yesterday I was confronted with a miniature natural disaster of my own in the form of a hailstorm of epic proportions! After an overall beautiful, sunny, late-summers day in Buenos Aires, the sky all of a sudden darkened and lightning started flashing overhead with fast-increasing intensity. After a while it started to rain lightly, soon more and more water was falling from the sky - and then the hail began. For about 15 minutes our house was pummeled by rock-hard balls of ice the size of tennis balls.

I was working in our attic office/playroom, where my desk is located just under a large sky-window. Karin asked our daughters if they wanted to go downstairs with her to watch the garden as the rain was beginning to fall. After some minutes I decided to get a drink and so I followed them downstairs. That was a lucky decision.

I arrived downstairs at 8.15, just when the serious hail started to come down. We were standing on our back porch, under a tiled roof as the first icy bombs came down, hammering into the grass and turning the pool into a wild spectacle. Trees in our garden were rapidly “shaven”, as thousands of ice balls bombarded them, ripping off leaves, branches and taking out the occasional bird on their way down. We quickly ran back into the safety of the house and I started to close the blinds on the most exposed windows.

Each room I ran into echoed with the thuds of ice slamming into the windows, and each time I feared that one would come straight through. By the time I was done most of the hail had subsided and was replaced by a torrential rain that seemed like a huge bucket of murky water was being poured out over our neighborhood. At some point we could hardly see our garden anymore, covered as it was in white icy rubble with massive curtains of water sweeping before our eyes. Then I remembered the attic…

I ran upstairs to find my desk covered in glass, ice and water. Somehow most of the window had managed to miss it and my laptop and auxiliary screens were still functioning. I stood there, frantically looking from left to right, not knowing exactly what to do first, it was as if a giant tap had been turned on directly above what used to be my work space - water was pouring everywhere. And then, all of a sudden, the rain stopped, and at the same moment the entire neighborhood went pitch black.

I managed to find a flashlight and went back down to Karin and the kids. They had had a great time watching the storm and had no clue what had happened. We put the children to bed and went upstairs where we cleared the area of glass and actually managed to salvage most of the equipment. We found some flattened cardboard boxes and a couple of planks and went about with hammer and nails.

Later Karin reminded me it might be a good idea to see if the “vigilante” (the private security guys you see guarding street corners in cities across Latin America) had survived the storm. So I went outside and made my way through a thick carpet of leaves and tree-branches, looking at the cars as I passed; windows shattered and round dents in roofs, hoods and hatches. Our security guy was fine and did not need water or cigarettes, so after chatting to him and our neighbor about insurance policies and how both our dogs had taken this weird natural event, I went back inside. It remained dry for the rest of the night and this morning the sun came out and another sunny day started as if nothing had happened…

The garden, however, told another story, with branches lying all over the place like a jungle floor and the grass dotted with potholes. Power stayed out until midday and with it internet, phone lines and the comforts of working from home. We had enough to do however, especially when we saw what else had happened in those 15 minutes. Roughly 60% of the tiles on our roof had been shattered and our garden furniture was smashed to smithereens. Another window of hardened wire-glass in our garage was hit in three places and had opened up like paper. There were large holes where the ice went straight through and glass shattered all over the cars, which luckily otherwise remained intact. We spent most of the day collecting glass and rubble and it was then that I realized how extremely dependent on all those modern-day comforts I have become.

Still we have been lucky, very lucky in fact. Buenos Aires is not usually prone to serious natural upheavals, apart from a tropical rainstorm every now and then. Other parts of the world are not so well off. Natural disasters are happening more and more often and in many cases have tremendous effects on the world economy, as recently the Financial Times described in an article about the volcanic eruption in Iceland, of which I hereby copy the intro (reply to this post and ask me for an official forward and I will try to send you the entire article!):

“(April 16^th 2010) Volcanic disruption

Pandemic flu, blizzards, volcanic eruptions: Mother Nature seems resolved to hurl grit (or fine ash) into the turbine blades of economic recovery. Disruption to international air traffic caused by a rather different Icelandic blow-up from the one 18 months ago is already the most serious since 9/11, and may outstrip it. A Sydney-based consultant, the Centre for Asia Pacific Aviation, forecasts that if the disturbance extends even three more days, it could affect 1m passengers, and cost airlines $1bn in lost revenues. Yet as with other recent natural phenomena, the overall economic impact may ultimately prove insignificant…”

Of course then there is the human aspect of these occurrences, not only for the people directly involved in them, but also for those that know, are related to, or have simply met them at some point. As my formerly Asia-bound colleague Beth says:

“…the tsunami that hit Sri-Lanka, Thailand and Indonesia was a disaster on a huge scale, but what struck me about it was the world response. It was the height of the Christmas season and most everyone I know knew someone who was there, heard first hand stories of the day, or had been there themselves in the past. News wasn’t just on the TV, it had happened to someone you knew, millions of first-hand stories were transmitted by word of mouth on a global scale.

I have many great memories of Thailand beach holidays, and essential to these memories are the people I met while I was there – the guys who cracked open fresh coconuts for me on the beach, the father and son who took us out in their fishing boat, the girls making seashell necklaces and running along the beach to sell them – all of these people’s faces came back to me when I heard the news, and I wondered how they were and what they lost. I think that this was the same for everyone, and that this is the reason why the world showed such solidarity. It wasn’t something just effecting international airlines and multi-national hotel chains, it was the guy who made you fresh mango juice on the beach in Ha Tien. Yes, it was all going on far away in a distant land, but it was something we could all relate to on a human scale.”

This is one of the positive effects of globalization and ever-increasing world travel, we have, and should have, an increased understanding, empathy and solidarity with our world neighbors. Tourism and travel bring great responsibility on many levels, be it related to preservation of natural habitats and heritage or simple material transactions that keep local economies moving. The way in which the world has developed means that many, many people in many countries rely almost entirely on tourism for their livelihood – if this is suddenly cut off, for example by a natural disaster, what happens to them?

In our globalized world everyone is connected, and so in turn everything that happens and how we respond has repercussions all around the world. The big volcanic dust cloud recently grounding flights across Europe, has all sorts of myriad effects on people around the world, from the plantation worker in Jamaica to the hotel cleaner in Egypt. As soon as the dust settles the world will be up and flying again, but the effects will continue to be felt, if not by you, by someone else in some distant land that you may one day travel to. This volcano reminds me of all the other disasters in recent years, of Chile, Haiti, New Orleans, Thailand, Sri Lanka… the list goes on. And it reminds me that the privileges and pleasures of travel go hand in hand with a responsibility to the people and the places that we travel to.

Our 15 minute hailstorm was an ever so small taste of the destruction that nature can wreak, and it made me realize just how small we really are, and how futile and vulnerable most of the security-net is that we try to pull up around ourselves. Without that net, how long would we hold? Because without all the 21^st century shields we reinforce ourselves and our lives with, we are pretty much useless when it comes to surviving in raw natural circumstances. I had to think about “The Road” and wondered what would happen if we had a hailstorm like yesterday’s, but for, say 1 month. …Note to self, must remember to buy batteries and enough freeze-dried food for at least 4 weeks tomorrow!

…signing off now, just got my internet, home computer network, flat screen TV and media PC working again; and it’s time for some channel surfing with a chilled beer, an ordered in pizza, the pleasant hum of the air conditioning and the already fading notion of a different reality, and how it almost bit me…