"Bart's Blog gives an in depth and up-to-date perspective on travel in Latin America. Bart is a quirky travel enthusiast who knows the continent from back to front. His friendly advice on Travel in Latin America - specially in Peru , Argentina, Chile, Bolivia and Brazil is helpful, practical and informative.." Blogger's Choice Awards
I still remember the first time I went to Galapagos. It was in 1994 and I was working at Pamir Travels & Adventures, owned by long-time friend and mentor Hugo Torres, doing a traineeship in Sales and Marketing. Those were the last days before email; I actually remember installing the first PC in Hugo’s office with an email account. For all the beauty and peace I find in the natural wonders of the continent I have called home for the past 15 years, I still get bewildered by the pace of technological development we have seen in just about the same time frame. If only we would apply more of our technological creativity to finding ways to protect the very world we live in, we would be way past trying to create paradise on earth, I bet you.
I was halfway through my traineeship when I had a meeting with Hugo and his wife Mireilla about how actual travel experience could enhance the sales process. That same afternoon, we had a group arriving from Germany. Since at the time I was the only one in the office speaking German, Hugo asked me if I wanted to accompany the driver to go and receive the group. The group consisted of Dr. Gerd and Mrs. Christel Gigler and some of their best friends, who had come to Ecuador to celebrate their 25th marriage anniversary in style. We had a nice conversation aboard the bus on the way to their hotel and they asked me to accompany them on their city tour the next day, which I did. The day after we were bringing the group to the airport for their flight to the Galapagos Islands, when Gerd all of a sudden asked me: “Bart, we have chartered a ship for our honeymoon, it has 10 beths and we are 9; would you like to join us?” I needed to ask him to repeat that twice before I really understood what he had just said, and when I looked at Mireilla who was with us that day, she nodded and gave me a look, as if to say “what are you waiting for? This is a chance in a lifetime!” So, after some (about 5 seconds) of thinking I agreed and after some practical issues (such as me not having brought anything to the airport but the clothes I was wearing and for some reason my passport) were solved, I found myself with my new friends on my way to the Galapagos…
Samba was a refurbished, formerly Dutch trawler, which today would be considered a luxury, small-group cruise vessel. With five cabins it was actually smaller than most ships one will find, but therefore that much cozier when traveling in a group of friends. We sailed the 8-day, westerly route and it was one of the most amazing trips I have made in my life, when it comes to marine wildlife. I watched, swam and played with so many different species of animals I can hardly remember them all: Giant turtles, white-tipped reef sharks, golden rays, manta, sea lions, leather back turtle hatchlings, black hawks, albatross, red- and blue-footed boobies, spinner dolphins, blue whales, frigates, finches, Galapagos lizards, and so many more that it still dazzles me thinking back on it.
The only experience to come close to this was my 6-hour boat ride on the “Golfo Nuevo” Bay near the Valdes Peninsula, when I actually had an 18m (54ft) Southern Right Whale come up alongside our zodiac, look me right in the eye, kind of asking for a tap on the back. I did and he (or she; I did not verify) started spinning slowly around his horizontal axis, allowing me to caress his skin and have one of my life’s most awesome encounters with nature.
Not that the Galapagos did not offer similar opportunities: I went snorkeling with a piece of rope to play with an abundance of sea lions, who tried not only to bite the rope, but also take off my fins and mask, which was both scary and fun; Swimming back to the surface I literally swam through a cloud of golden rays, only to surface finding a pelican perched on my head, as the ship mates had decided to have a laugh and throw some leftovers of the preparation of the fish for that evening’s feast into the sea next to the boat. I watched a Galapagos hawk spot, catch and devour a baby leather back turtle only meters away from where I was laying, observing how hundreds of its fellow hatchlings made their way into the ocean, surviving the first of many perilous episodes in their lives; I almost stepped on a blue-footed booby, who had placed her nest right on the trail designated for two-legged visitors, completely impervious to the risk I posed her; I saw thousands of spinner dolphins jumping over each other in a feeding frenzy as we followed a pair of blue whales below Isabela Island; I stood in a bay, water to my knees, with two resting reef sharks laying at my feet, while small Galapagos penguins swam across at less than 10m (30ft) distance. I did and saw all that and remember thinking: “this must be the best traineeship ever…”
Galapagos is one of those very few places on earth where we can see what the world would look like if we had not consistently hunted and killed every animal in sight, what it would feel like if man and animal were actually able to live side by side, sharing the same space. I can tell you it is beautifully humbling and if you love nature, this is a place you definitely should not miss.
For a couple of ideas on Galapagos holidays, please have a look at the following links:
I have been quiet for a while, busy discovering new corners of South America, and doing some work while at it... I do promise to get back here more often from now on!
Today, let’s talk aboutBrazil. We have heard more than enough about it on the news lately, but I get the feeling the focus has been somewhat economic. Even though it is interesting to see how world financial flows have been thrown around and today’s money makers are in fact the developing countries of yesteryear, whilst the big powers of pre-2008 are scrambling to get by, that is not what this blog is about. Brazil has become Latin America’s economic super power and that is not something that can or should be ignored. In the realm of travel it has had two interesting consequences:
First, travel to Brazil has become more expensive; the Real has revalued a lot and prices are similar to those in Europe and North America, if not, in some cases, higher. That said, we are still traveling in great numbers to the old, and the not so old, continents, which means the current price tag on tourism in Brazil is probably not going to be prohibitive to travelers. One main difference is air fare prices, which remain very expensive throughout the Latin America region, compared to similar distance long-haul flights in other parts of the world. One day I will try and investigate how this comes to be and if something could be done about it, but for now, the cost of international flights will remain the only real obstacle for people to travel to Brazil and its neighbors. I promise that when I find a cure for this, I will share it here first!
Second, Brazilians are rapidly becoming the largest visitor groups to their neighboring countries. For Argentina this is already the case, with almost 20% of all Brazilians traveling abroad heading forBuenos Aires, IguazuandBariloche. AlsoPeruis well-visited, withMachu Picchuas the most important destination. This might in the end mean that some of the entries you will see from me in the future will be written in Portuguese…J
Funny, I am sitting here in the attic of my house, winter is about to hitBuenos Aires, and I have just found out the heater up here has decided to stop working. Six degrees Celsius outside and I am thinking of Brazil… Last time I went (apart from a few stopovers) is already a while ago now, a little over a year in fact! I wrote a piece on theNorth of Brazilthen and I remember dedicating some of it to the Feijoada dish this region is famous for. Sitting here, sipping a cup of instant soup to keep warm, I all of a sudden feel hungry, so let’s see what the Feijoada is all about again, shall we? I Googled a bit and found a good entry, which I hereby will copy, hoping the good people on about.com/homecooking as well as Mrs. Heidi Haughy Cusick (who’s book “Soul and Spice” is mentioned as the source) will be happy with my enthusiasm:
“The hearty Feijoada stew is the national dish of Brazil. It's loaded with black beans, pork, bacon, sausage, ham, and beef. Plan ahead to soak the beans overnight. This recipe takes some time to cook, but the result is well worth it.
Prep Time: 30 minutes
Cook Time: 3 hours
Total Time: 3 hours, 30 minutes
Ingredients:
· 2 cups (1 pound) black beans, rinsed and picked over
· 3/4 pound pork butt or shoulder, trimmed of fat
· 6 ounces slab bacon
· 1/2 pound smoked pork sausages
· 1/2 pound hot Portuguese sausage such as linguica
· 1 or 2 pounds ham hock or shank, cut into 1-inch rounds
· 1 large yellow onion, chopped
· 2 to 4 ounces dried beef carne seca, minced (optional; see Note)
For the Seasonings:
· 3 garlic cloves, minced and sauteed in 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
· 6 green onions, including tops, chopped
· 1 yellow onion, chopped
· Large handful of chopped fresh parsley (about 1/2 cup)
· 2 bay leaves, crumbled
· 1-1/2 tablespoons dried oregano, crushed
· Salt and ground black pepper
· Chopped fresh cilantro or parsley
Preparation:
Soak the black beans overnight in water to cover by several inches. Drain.
Place the drained black beans in a saucepan and add water to cover by 3 inches. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer until the beans are tender, 2 to 2-1/2 hours. Add additional water as needed to keep the beans covered.
While the black beans are cooking, prepare the meats. Preheat an oven to 375 degrees F. Dice the pork butt or shoulder and the bacon into 1/2-inch cubes. Place the pork, whole sausages, and bacon in a large baking pan. Roast until well done. The sausages will be ready after 35 to 40 minutes and the other meats after 45 to 60 minutes.
Cook the ham hock at the same time as the meats are roasting. In a saucepan, combine the ham hock rounds and onion with water to cover. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to a simmer, and cook until tender, about 1 hour. Remove the ham hock rounds from the water and remove the meat from the bones, if desired; set aside. Or leave the rounds intact for serving alongside the black beans. Strain the cooking liquid into a bowl. Add the strained onions from the liquid to the beans. Add the cooking liquid to the beans if needed to keep them immersed.
Once the black beans are almost cooked, check to make sure there is plenty of cooking liquid in the pot. It should be rather soupy at this point. Stir in the beef (carne seca). Cut the sausages into rounds and add them and all the other cooked meats to the pot. Then add all of the seasonings to the pot, including salt and pepper to taste. Simmer for another 30 minutes, or until the beans are very tender.
Taste and adjust the seasonings. Sprinkle with chopped cilantro or parsley just before serving.”
Of course, cooking this up at home is the second best option, and will suffice only until you can make your way to Brazil in person and sit down to an authentic Brazilian feast accompanied by a cachaca or two and perhaps a little samba. Here are a few ideas for you if you plan to visit:
I just wanted to share with you the latest happy addition to my bookshelf – The Brazilian Table by chef Yara Roberts who is, as it says on her website:
“…the first Brazilian chef to write about Brazilian cuisine in English. She gives an intimate look at the regions of Minas Gerais, the Amazon, the Cerado, and Bahia from a food perspective, not only introducing one hundred delicious recipes but also providing an in-depth cultural lesson on the regions and their unique foods.”
Flicking through this wonderful book got me thinking about food and my relationship to it.
Such a big part of travelling for me is about food – few things bring as much pleasure. As well as the pure enjoyment of taste, food can tell you so much about a country and about its history and its people. All over the world day-to-day life revolves entirely around, and is structured by food (well, perhaps not entirely, but I can safely say that my thoughts are often occupied by what the next meal will be and when). People connect over food - it brings them together, families, friends, old and young. There is something basically human about sharing a meal, whether it’s a chunk of cheese and some dry bread shared with a fellow traveler on some endless bus journey across Bolivia, or an invitation to a family asado in Argentina.
Food and the customs and rituals surrounding it provide a framework for a country’s character, showing you their humanity. People are fiercely proud of their culinary heritage, it speaks of their past and of their values. In Argentina sharing mate (a bitter tea like drink) demonstrates a warmth and openness that strangers can immediately connect with.
Food is surrounded by these emotions; friendship and generosity; comfort and nostalgia. When people are homesick it often manifests itself in missing the flavors of home, and home-cooked food features in many a childhood memory. A bowl of hot soup at the end of a long, cold journey can switch your mood in a moment, and in England pretty much any problem can be solved by putting the kettle on for a cup of tea.
As well as this, layers of a country’s history can be seen in its culinary styles and influences. In Buenos Aires, waves of Italian immigrants opened pizzerias and ice-cream parlors all over the city, and today ice cream is a big part of the city’s culture – heladerias to rival Rome’s finest gelato emporiums are dotted throughout the city serving towering cones in multiples of delicious flavors.
Whenever I think of summer in Buenos Aires I think of heading to the heladeria at midnight, even at this late hour lively with groups of teenagers and tables of smartly dressed old folks. Getting my ticket, waiting for my number to come up and choosing my two scoops from the dozens of options - for me this experience is part of the patchwork of Buenos Aires. Just as when I think of Tokyo I think of spicy wasabi with soy sauce, and slivers of vivid pink pickled ginger, and just as Morocco brings back memories of steaming tagines of lamb and apricot, and sweet, hot mint tea in colored glasses.
I have always been intrigued by food, recipes and cooking styles, and their inextricable link to a country’s history, culture and character. This is why, for me, The Brazilian Table is the perfect recipe book. Combining delicious Brazilian dishes, with an in depth knowledge of their origins and influences and an obvious passion for the country and its flavors. All this in one delectable and beautifully written full-color package. Time to cook!
Every now and then I need to share something that is not directly related to me rummaging around the continent. At this moment we are looking to find a couple of enthusiastic travel professionals to join our ranks in our Buenos Aires headquarters. If you have extensive experience in the travel industry, know the continent of South America and are either already living in Buenos Aires or considering moving here, please have a look at: www.globalencounters.com/jobs
Thanks in advance for forwarding this message to anyone you think might be interested!
Back on the main road from Armenia to Pereira we took the exit to Salento and from there drove on to the Cocora Valley. Following a small, winding road, creeping over two mountain ranges and through a beautiful valley, and ending up in the town of Salento, a hidden away backpacker’s paradise, and the gateway to the Cocora Valley. Recently inaccessible due to guerrilla activities, this wondrous place is now open to visitors and is receiving its first curious outsiders with open arms. We drove 11km from Salento to “Don de Juan B” a small local tourist complex, consisting of a great restaurant, a playing field for children, some shops, all the horses you could wish for, and the best cappuccino I have had in a long time - all in an idyllic setting in the middle of this beautiful valley, green and lush, even at 2500masl.
The views in this region are spectacular and during our visit the temperature varied from fresh in the sun, to crisp in the shade. The purest of air filled our lungs and we were immediately smitten by the sheer beauty of the land. We had wandered pretty far off our planned route and only had an hour before we had to get back to the hotel to put the kids to bed, but we unanimously decided that we would return tomorrow.
28 June: Armenia, Salento
Colombia claims to be the country with the greatest variety of palm trees in the world (some 250+ varieties if I am not mistaken) and the lower Cocora Valley has literally thousands of them. These beautiful tall trees are home to an endemic species of yellow and green parrot, one of many different birds and animals to be spotted here - deer, puma and even spectacled bears are known to roam the higher lands of this magical stretch of Colombia. Higher again the valley leads to the “Parque Nacional de los Nevados”, about one day’s ride on horse-back, and we made a solemn pledge to return and make that journey as soon as Noa is old enough to sit on a horse by herself.
After enjoying two sublime cappuccinos and buying a couple of kilos of organically produced coffee beans, we began a 1.5hr ride following a small and treacherous path of mud and rocks, apparently a piece of cake for the well-trained horses. Strong and well-fed, these docile animals seemed very much at ease with carrying us (myself and Noa together) up and down the hills and through the valleys. Once again the variety of greens was overwhelming as we slowly moved from wide grasslands into cloud forest. Sunlight was breaking through the clouds here and there, and we could see the haze of far off rainfall in the distance.A delicate grey curtain lined with golden specs hung across the sky, and all was fresh air and a peaceful silence broken only by bird calls and the soft gurgle of water making its way down to the Quindio River - the ride was one of spectacular views and great peace. Knowing that we were riding at an altitude of almost 2800masl, and that this area, until five years ago, was almost completely unknown to the outside world, added to the feeling that again we had stumbled upon a very special part of South America, a continent that has already given us so much.
What can I say? I feel privileged to be allowed to roam these lands, to get to know the geography, history, flora, fauna, and the people. This great mix of cultures, ever changing, developing, growing, more and more conscious of its own existence and the attributes it has, is simply too much to take in sometimes. I do not think I will ever manage to fathom the depth and the wealth of what the Latin American continent has to offer, or even understand most of it, but I sure am thankful to be a spectator of some of its heritage and its culture, forever blossoming and becoming a more and more integral and valued part of the world.
29 June, Armenia
We had managed to draw up an extensive list of things to do and places to see, but this was our last day in the Coffee Triangle, so most will have to wait until next time. We settled on a coffee tour at the Eco Hotel Combia, where we were staying, followed by a visit to the renowned butterfly park and botanical gardens of Armenia. We were not disappointed. Although not as spectacular as the day before, both visits were very interesting. I never knew it takes about two years (!) to create a cup of coffee. Three months for a seedling to be planted, another four for it to blossom, eight more before the first harvest can take place and then two months to dry. Then the selection process can begin (about two thirds of the beans are pre-considered not good enough for export). The one third that is good enough is sold to the Coffee Federation of Colombia who handles export to foreign buyers who will roast the beans and sell them off. All in all a minimum of twenty-four months before I wake up and smell the coffee. The other two thirds are divided in two classes; half is sold for national consumption and the rest stays at the farm to be either sold locally, or used right then and there. Colombians therefore, like so many producers of our fancy stuff, are allowed only the worst of their own produce, or perhaps they only allow themselves that. What is true is that most Colombians seem to have no need for the exquisite espresso that is one of the final products of the crop they have grown for generations. That will probably change soon enough, especially with more and more tourists coming in and asking, like I did at the end of the tour, “So, where is the machine? I could use a double!”
The Butterfly Park and Botanical Garden were also quite impressive. The knowledgeable guides and a variety of things to do and see, especially for the kids, made this a far nicer little outing than I had expected. Whilst our guide explained the different species of palm trees (which happened to be his specialty), Edie and Noa went haywire running through the park, getting lost in the maze, freaking out over the robotic insects show and chasing all kinds of insects, some wild butterflies included. It helps in these cases that we have two blond, blue-eyed little beauties, which has the effect of immediately making people smile and say things like : "oh what beautiful eyes!” and, "your daughters are so pretty, such lovely little girls!” If only they knew...
All in all it was another great day in a great country. I really do not understand how this place has been the stage for so much violence for so long and until so recently. Intelligence and humor, commonplace everywhere we go, should not be the root for it, or the stunning beauty of the landscapes, or the friendliness and hospitality of the people. This is a country of great artists, writers, even politicians, and so far, I seriously think it has the potential to be one of the great destinations of this continent. Looking forward to tomorrow…
After a good night’s sleep and knowing you have a nice day of moving from A to B to C ahead of you, it is always nice getting up early. Well, actually, it is never really nice to have to get out of bed before sun-up, but even so we all woke up in a pretty sunny mood, probably helped by the fact that we had already packed the night before and did not, like on so many other occasions, have to hastily jump into the shower, get dressed, pack, jump in the car, leave, and go back again at least four times for forgotten things. All the while rushing a mobile breakfast usually composed of cold (or too hot!) coffee, a banana and some sweets.
Instead, we managed to have a leisurely breakfast of toast, marmalade, eggs, coffee, freshly picked fruit, juices and more coffee. So leisurely indeed that we of course left one hour late and Jairo had to drive like a maniac to get us to Neiva airport just on time to find out our flight was one hour delayed. The ride itself was actually quite relaxed, the kids slept most of the way, as did Karin, and Jairo and I exchanged small talk. Jairo drives a Kia 7-seater van of American proportions, and the ride was smooth as silk up till the final 20 minutes when we tried to make our way through a Neiva in the last phase of the San Juan & San Pedro festivities.With men on horses everywhere, most of them too drunk to even stand up, let alone ride a horse through dense city traffic, buses with tourists from all parts coming in for the final fiesta and clogging all main arteries of the town.
We were lucky Jairo has actually lived here for 20 years before moving to San Agustin and he knows the place like the back of his hand. He skilfully manoeuvred the large van through the hectic chaos of cars, trucks, buses and horses, taking lots of little back roads I would never have taken if my life had depended on it. Jairo actually got us to the airport within the minimum of 45 minutes before take-off, all the time reassuring us we would still have time to have lunch before our flight. He helped us unload our 3 heavy bags, 2 backpacks, 2 laptop bags, one baby-bed, and an explosion of toys, colouring artefacts and all the other paraphernalia one tends to hoist along when traveling with kids. Of course he turned out to be right; our plane was delayed (“as always happens”, he said before smiling and saying his goodbyes) and we actually managed to have a local version of steak, which was amazingly nice and tender considering it was airport grub, before we got on the turboprop back to Bogota.
Here, everything went easy, apart from the fact that Noa and I went for a second round of coffee for Karin and me and we almost missed our connection, again… Luckily the lady behind the counter remembered us from the week before and we jumped on the bus as it was making its way to the plane. I have actually come to like our way of traveling; there is always something completely off in our planning and we usually get into trouble or completely lose our way, in the process running into all kinds of nice and interesting people and places. I can imagine though that anybody traveling with us would go completely bonkers.
We arrived in Pereira about 2 hours behind schedule (not our fault, the second flight was simply delayed) and after Karin had had a nice fight with the car rental people about the fact that we were not prepared to pay a four-day rent for what actually turned out to be a 3-day trip, we were finally on the road around 6pm. Darkness set in and yet another of those things you always tell other people not to do happened; driving after dark in a new country. But I’ve gotten used to that as well; we’ve made our way through the depths of night in Lima, in Peru’s southern Andean regions, straight through Sao Paulo, in the upper north of Brazil, and in various parts of Patagonia, usually without GPS devices, and always getting lost before finding our way back again. Up till now nothing deadly has happened to us.
Same thing in Colombia, and I can add that at least in this part of Colombia the roads are perfect, mostly well-lit and with clear signals showing the way to where one wants to go. Sometimes there are so many signs that it will make you dizzy, but then there is always a nice neighbour (in our case usually a gas station employee) that will happily show you where to make the next turn. We made it from Pereira to our new hotel, a very nice and typical coffee-farm-hotel named Combia, in about one hour, despite the dark and a very limited map to go by. Colombia is good Fly-Drive Territory, if you can manage the Spanish language and are not afraid to ask your way around.
After a long day we hit our beds almost instantly and slept like the little babies some of us still are, waking up 8 hours later to a new day in a new land…
Armenia and surroundings
The Coffee Triangle, as this part of Colombia is called, is a lush and fertile area with a mild, benign climate, good for producing some of the best coffee in the world. Funny thing is that it is quite difficult to actually find a good cappuccino, or even an espresso, as most people are not really used to drinking “fancy” coffee and usually just take a “tinto”; black filter coffee, thinned with hot water and sugared up to hurt your teeth. Some come with milk and both taste like sweet hot coloured water, nothing like Juan Valdes makes you believe people enjoy over here. So, when the owner of the hotel came to us and asked us to please leave any suggestion we could think of, I could hardly keep my mouth shut.
After a simple but hearty breakfast we got into our car and started driving back to Armenia and right behind it found a sign saying “canopy”…
During our last trip in Brazil my daughter Edie had already shown great interest in rappelling, as well as in huge natural water slides, and other such things that make me super-scared something might happen to her. As a matter of fact I lately find myself projecting many of my childhood fears on my daughters, as they begin to discover the fun parts of our numerous trips. As a teenager I decided that I would not let fear hold me back from doing anything, and I spent several years crusading against my fears of things like heights, failing in general and being publicly ridiculed. I went for a 65m bungee jump that almost killed me, set up a travel company in Peru without any prior experience, and even tried speaking in public. The last, to my shame, is really not my forte...
Still I thought I had it nicely worked out and that I had managed to kick myself into being a cool guy, not afraid to take on a challenge or two and free of unnecessary internal blockades. The opposite isn’t true, but I must say I am having a hard time not panicking a little each time Edie climbs a tree or Noa dances around on a plastic chair. My wife Karin and I have discussed this often. She was raised with a no-fear policy and skied black slopes and beyond before she could speak a full sentence, so she understandably has some issues with my ‘all of a sudden’ somewhat conservative nature. She feels, and rightly so, that we should not project our fears onto our children and should let them discover their own boundaries. I agree with her, of course. So, when we saw the sign and Karin looked at me with that inquisitive look of hers, I said: “what the hell”, and made a sharp left.
14 speed-flights between towering trees and hulking bamboo ladders later we were back where mother earth prefers to have us and I was soaked. With adrenaline still screaming through my veins and hair standing out in all directions, the next group of that went up for their first climb looked at me with some puzzlement. I could not care less; I was alive! Karin, Edie and Noa had had the time of their lives and the kids would keep asking us for days in advance when we could go and “fly” again.
After breakfast, and a not so pleasant stay in a hotel in Neiva, we meet our driver Jairo who will take us to San Agustin - Jairo is contracted by Rene, a Swiss guy who settled in San Agustin many years ago, probably one of the first foreigners to settle down in this beautiful area. He runs the agency Chaskatours and we will probably hear more from him in the not too distant future. Here, the Andes Mountain Range, in one final show of grandeur, splits into three majestic mountain ranges, the Cordilleras Occidental, Central and Oriental. We are now driving through a wide green valley that divides the Cordilleras Central and Oriental, which is itself split in two by the Magdalena River, which stretches 1500km from San Agustin to Barranquilla and is the longest and most important river of Colombia.
15 minutes outside of Neiva we stumble upon the hamlet of Rivera, known for its thermal springs, and here we find a great alternative to the place we slept last night. This is the perfect place for our groups when they come driving down from Bogota to make a stop on their way to San Agustin. What better place to spend the night after a long day’s drive than a hotel with 4 swimming pools, next to a set of thermal springs?
A nice detail of local roads here is that, as well as being mostly perfectly asphalted, they are shaded by ‘ecological tunnels’. This part of Colombia gets very hot and most municipalities make a habit of having their main roads lined by trees that meet each other over the middle, thus creating a green roofing that not only creates shadow but also absorbs most of the exhaust gasses of the trucks, cars and motorbikes passing by. On top of this it truly enhances the visual experience of driving here.
Jairo is a good driver and he also turns out to be an excellent storyteller. Thanks to him and his knowledge of local folklore I have a very interesting ride, while the girls mostly sleep in the back. The first thing he asks is if we have already tried the famous ‘Asado Huilense’, a ritual pig roast only prepared during the festivities of San Juan & San Pedro. During these festivities, about which I still need to do some more reading, each province holds folkloric dancing contests where one girl is chosen to be the ‘Reina’ or ‘Queen’. During the ‘Vispera de San Juan’, or ‘the Eve of Saint John’, which I understand falls on midsummer’s eve, the family spends all day on the preparation of the pig; first the slaughter, then the cleaning of the animal and the selection of the best parts of meat. Then follows the preparation of the wood for the fire and finally the entire family, friends and neighbors sit down for a true feast. It is kind of a sacred ritual, but these days the Asado Huilense has found some resonance outside of El Huila and you will find more and more local restaurants offering the dish, also out of the official season.
Next we drive through the small town of Hobo, apparently a tourist stop, but we decide to push on. While we drive out of town on one of the scarce pieces of straight road that we have encountered on our trip, Jairo tells me that this is the highway airport of Hobo. Upon my puzzled look he explains that some nine years ago a local governor managed to get his private plane hijacked and forced to land on this main road. The governor was then kidnapped, and as far as my recently blossoming understanding of Colombian Spanish helps me understand, was released after direct negotiations between the FARC and the then president Pastrani.
Now we drive past ‘Los Altares’ – sand rock formations that line the road, shaped by wind and rain, resembling the medieval gothic churches of Europe. Here, at 700 m.a.s.l, climate and vegetation have already changed completely. Whereas in Neiva the main crops are rice and cotton, here we drive across coffee and cacao plantations. We pass countless food stalls selling ‘Quesillo’, a local cheese variant made from cows’ milk. The kids are asleep so we don’t stop; we’ll have to try this on our way back…
A road sign indicates the distances to the next three villages, one of them called ‘Gigante’. I turn to Jairo and he begins to tell the legend of El Gigante, a giant Indian who according to the story used to steal the crops of the local villagers until they had enough of it and finally managed to ambush and kill him. Apparently he still lays there today, flat on his back. We drive through the town of Gigante, but I see nothing strange or disturbing…
‘Curvas Peligrosas’… we drive through a stunning mountain area, on a recently paved road, but with about as many curves as a beautiful woman, each one more dangerous than the one before.Numerous signs alongside the road warn against drinking and driving, or simply taking the wheel when tired: ‘No more stars on the road’, they say, and before and after practically every curve a star-shaped cross is painted on the asphalt, marking a fatal accident… We take it slow, following a ‘Poker’ Beer truck and then all of sudden he appears, Matambo, the slain giant.A huge face-shaped mountain, looking like those on the statues found on Easter Island, a true indigenous boogieman, carved out of Andean rock.
We drive past a pond where ‘mojarra’ is cultivated, a local fish that is served in restaurants throughout La Huila province, of which Neiva is the capital. Will make sure to try some in San Agustin! Jairo warns us not to eat mojarra from ponds close to ‘lulo’ (a local fruit used to make juices) plantations, as this particular plant needs a lot of chemicals to withstand insects and other threats. With rain, the chemicals are flushed into the soil and then find their way into the ponds which makes this particular fish not always the healthiest option.
Up and up we go, from the 400 or so m.a.s.l where we started out this morning, making our way through the valley and up the hills. Cacao and coffee make way for tobacco as the air gets fresher and temperatures slowly drop. We drive past the town of Garzon (named after the male variant of the ‘garza’ (heron) that frequent this area. Garzon is the second city of El Huila and is the catholic center of the province, and most of the south of the country. The town has a beautiful cathedral and a seminary from which most of the prominent priests and clergymen in the country emerge. If that is a good thing or not I’ll leave to your own judgment. It’s a nice town though, from what we see driving past.
La Jagua, the next spot on the map, is a town of artisans, formerly known for being bewitched… I imagine the 31st of October must be a true party here, but we do not get much time to ponder, as Jairo begins a story about the two towns that we are approaching, Altamira & Timana.
Altamira & Timana are home to the Timanareis people. Their most famous ancestor is probably the Caciqua La Gaetana - a local chieftain whose son was killed by a Spanish invader looking for gold. The story goes that she was so angry and grief-stricken that she gathered all the local caciques in the south and together they conquered the Spaniards and captured their leader, Pedro de Allasco. La Gaetana picked out his eyes, punctured his lower jaw through the mouth, tied a rope through it and pulled him behind her horse before decapitating him. Sadly enough history was not in her favor; the Spanish came back with more men, to avenge the death of their kinsmen. La Gaetana was hunted down, but before they could catch her, she managed to reach El Pericongo, a steep cliff from which she is said to have jumped and disappeared into the Magdalena River.
The Timanareis people are the oldest tribe in Colombia. In the town of Timana there is a statue of La Gaetana, holding Allasco’s head in her hand. In Neiva, around this time every year, there is the ‘Cabalgata de la Gaetana’ where around 3000 women saddle up their horses and parade through town, emptying bottles of ‘aguardiente’, the local liquor, and making a lot of noise in praise of this fierce warrior of the past.
Driving through Altamira, we come past a sign saying ‘Florencia’. Under the Pastrani government, this town was the gateway to the ‘zona del despeje’, a large area of land cleared of military and police forces, where the FARC incumbents were given the right to reassemble, rearm, train and basically reinforce. This was a state within the state, ruled by the guerilla. I still have a lot to learn about Colombia, its history, and its people. There will most probably be a logical explanation for this guerilla state, but at this point I have no clue as to why a government would allow an enemy army to have a place to rest and rearm.I am not Colombian, so I‘m in no place to judge, of course.
Late afternoon and after a great trip we arrive in San Agustin. Not too long ago this little town was a stronghold of the FARC, and to this date the area has still not been officially given the green light by most embassies. However, as locals assure and reality shows, there is nothing to be afraid of here. Two main military bases in the vicinity mean that there are soldiers present in the streets, restaurants and sometimes also at the hotels. Through time people here have come to terms with the fact that either military or guerillas frequent the town and its facilities. The difference now is that the military are treating the villagers with respect, they pay for the services rendered and help out where needed. They are like any other citizen of Colombia, carrying out their assigned job, living and working amongst their fellow citizens. Their job is to keep the area safe and yes, they have to go on patrols into the surrounding areas, but a normal passer-by is taught to see them as peacekeepers and defenders of everybody’s safety. After a while we hardly notice them as different and the kids play around them as we all eat breakfast together.
The Anacaona is a true find and probably the best place in town. An old farm-house, this place was bought by a Frenchman some nine years ago and was slowly converted into the oddly quaint home-stay it is today. A beautiful garden and a wide, panoramic view over the adjacent valley combined with a very friendly (even if somewhat inexperienced) staff, make this a good place to spend at least a few days. The manager, Hector, is on his way to becoming one of the main players in San Agustin tourism development, and is a nice guy to have a chat with if you want to get to know more about the area. He arranged for horses, guides, a jeep and everything else that we needed when planning to explore the area. The equipment was good, the horses healthy and well fed, the guides and drivers correct and on time. English is a challenge still, though we did see some people with English speaking guides, but they had come together from Bogota. No problem for us, but something to keep in mind if you want to visit this beautiful area.
Samba was a refurbished, formerly Dutch trawler, which today would be considered a luxury, small-group cruise vessel. With five cabins it was actually smaller than most ships one will find, but therefore that much cozier when traveling in a group of friends. We sailed the 8-day, westerly route and it was one of the most amazing trips I have made in my life, when it comes to marine wildlife. I watched, swam and played with so many different species of animals I can hardly remember them all: Giant turtles, white-tipped reef sharks, golden rays, manta, sea lions, leather back turtle hatchlings, black hawks, albatross, red- and blue-footed boobies, spinner dolphins, blue whales, frigates, finches, Galapagos lizards, and so many more that it still dazzles me thinking back on it.
