Western world: two weeks later

I have been in London for two weeks and I start to miss the ease of human contact I experienced in Latin America. I usually smile when I am walking in the street and I look at the people around me trying to meet their eyes, but I fail. They are always looking elsewhere, most of the time they walk staring at the ground, even when the sky above is beautifully blue. They look too busy, burdened with worries. They might have high, ego-driven personal ambitions, but their human ambition remain at ground level.
Last Thursday I was in Norway for a business meeting. I had to spend a few hours at the Oslo airport waiting for my flight and I experienced exactly the same feeling of isolation, despite being surrounded by hundreds of people. They stare at plasma TV screens, write SMSs, make endless phone calls. And when the battery goes flat they feel lonely and helpless, as if today the only possible contact between humans were the virtual one, through electronic devices.
How did we get to this stage? Is it inevitable? Will Latin Americans lose their warmth and become scared and depressed zombies like us? I am afraid of the answer.... :-))))

Epilogue

I finally made it back to London, where my journey started three months ago.

Unexpectedly, the departure tax at the Bogotá airport was only $5. After paying it I converted the pesos left in my pocket back into US dollars. The immigration police were nice to me and everything went smoothly. At the gate they only searched my backpack once, as they did with the hand-held luggage of all the other passengers.
Heading to New York, we flew over the magnificent Bahamas Archipelago. I landed at Newark around 4:30 pm, two and a half hours before the scheduled departure time of my flight to London. The connection flight left New York with one and a half hour delay because they made a mistake and loaded the wrong luggage into the aircraft. I landed at London Gatwick on Monday 19, a few minutes after 8 am and I arrived home two hours later. The chilly temperature of the London morning (-4 degrees Celsius) meant thermal shock for my body, still used to tropical temperatures ;-)). I took a hot shower and went to work.

I'm quickly getting over the jet lag and reverting to a "productive" existence ;-). I still have not readjusted completely to the Western customs, though. For example: every time I go to the toilet I have the reflex to look for the paper basket, instead of dropping the toilet paper in the WC!

What can I say about the whole journey? Well, it was simply fantastic. The number one highlight is definitely Colombia, the best kept secret in Latin America. Guatemala is a close second. These two countries offer a variety of sights/activities that can satisfy even the most demanding traveler. I also loved the Solentiname Archipelago in Nicaragua, despite the bad weather and the difficult journey to get there. Honduras and Panama also have some fine places. The country that I did like the least is Costa Rica: it has gorgeous parks, but it doesn't have much to offer apart from ecotourism. On top of that, it is expensive compared with its neighbours.

With the benefit of the hindsight, if I had to do this trip again, I would leave around mid January, to avoid the rain. The rainy season, notably on the Caribbean coast, tends to last until the end of January. During my five weeks in Colombia I got rain only one afternoon in Bogotá, at the end of my trip.

I will close this blog (at least for now ;-) with the lyrics of a songs that often comes to my mind when I am travelling. It is called "Foreign Affair" and it was written in 1977 by Tom Waits, an American songwriter that I like very much:

When travelling abroad in the continental style
It's my belief one must attempt to be discreet
And subsequently bear in mind your transient position
Allows you a perspective that's unique
And though you'll find your itinerary a blessing and a curse
Your wanderlust won't let you settle down
And you'll wonder how you ever fathomed that you'd be content
To stay within the city limits of a small midwestern town
Most vagabonds I knowed don't ever want to find the culprit
That remains the object of their long relentless quest
The obsessions in the chasing and not the apprehending
The pursuit you see and never the arrest

Without fear of contradiction, bon voyage is always hollered
In conjunction with a handkerchief from shore
By a girl who drives a rambler and furthermore
Is overly concerned that she won't see him anymore
Planes and trains and boats and buses
Characteristically evoke a common attitude of blue
Unless you have a suitcase, a ticket and a passport
And the cargo that they're carrying is you
A foreign affair juxtaposed with a stateside
And domestically approved romantic fancy
Is mysteriously attractive due to circumstances knowing
It will only be parlayed into a memory

Bogotá

Bogotá is cloudy and the temperature is cold, which is normal for a city at 2600 meters of altitude. After La Paz and Quito it is the highest capital in Latin America. The climate here is helping me to readjust to the weather I will find in London. ;-)))

One week before arriving in Bogotá I booked a bed at the Platypus, one of the most popular hostels in South America. It is located in the historic suburb of La Candelaria. Their web page has interesting links to articles and reports about the damage that the cocaine trade does to both Colombian environment and society. It is interesting reading. This hostel is not the neatest I have stayed at and the showers leave a lot to be desired, but the international travellers who gather here make it an interesting place. German, the owner, speaks several languages and is a gold mine of information and travel advices.

At the Platypus you can meet all sots of people, each one with a different story to tell: from Charles, a fifty year old Californian who was the double of the violinist in the movie Titanic, to the young Chinese woman who was a non-citizen until she was 12 because her parents exceeded the quota of children established by the Chinese government. I met again George, a crazy German who was robbed of his money and passport while crossing the border from Ecuador into Colombia and managed to hitchhike a lift to Cali on a fruit lorry. In Bogotá he eventually received a credit card mailed by his Thai wife in Berlin and purchased a laptop to chat with her in Skype. One evening at the hostel we were playing around with Google Earth: he has travelled almost to every country on this planet. It's fascinating to hear him talking about his time as a monk in Myanmar or when he went on a cruise on a Russian ship in the Antarctic...

On Thursday morning I took the funicular (cable car) to Cerro de Monserrate to see the city from above: terrific view and an admonisment about world population growth and its pressure on the environment. The roar coming from the city below spoils the silence of the surrounding mountains. On my way back down I stopped at La Quinta de Bolívar, the mansion where the Libertador spent his time in the capital. It contains furniture of the early XIX century and some of his belongings.

After a mouth-watering bistek a caballo at the fine restaurant Fulanitos I strolled to Plaza de Bolívar, boasting some of the finest architecture in the city. Later I visited the Casa de la Moneda (the former mint, now a museum) and the adjacent Donación Botero, a permanent exhibition of works of art donated by Fernando Botero. The collection includes more than a hundred Botero's own works plus several paintings and sculptures by European artists such as Picasso, Matisse and Monet, just to name a few.

The five days I have spent in Bogotá gave me the impression that it is the most dangerous place I have visited in Colombia. The Candelaria neighborhood is unsafe too: in the hostel I keep on hearing stories about tourists mugged in the streets at night. On Wednesday night one Norvegian guest was attacked in the Zona Rosa, beaten up and robbed of his watch. To be completely fair, he was inviting trouble, walking around alone and half drunk at night. Meanwhile, an Australian tourist was robbed of his shoes. From bad to worse: on the following night a group of four guests were attacked by eight youngsters with knives. They stabbed a Canadian girl in the arm to steal her backpack. She lost two passports, money, credit card, iPod and camera. I was just about to go to bed when I saw her walking back to the hostel around one in the morning leaving a trail of dripping blood in the street... :-(

On Friday morning Charles asked me to go with him to the town hall to speak to the mayor's representative about the increasing security issues in the neighbourhood. The Canadian girl and a British couple staying at the Platypus joined us. Our small delegation was received with by Coronel Rodriguez, liaison officer between the Mayor and the law enforcement. After listening to us he invited in the room half a dozen tourist police officers who assured us that they are taking this issue seriously and will increase police presence in the area. They also contacted the Canadian embassy in order to speed up the issuance of provisional passports for the victims. They were all very apologetic for what had happened and discussed with us for almost two hours. Let's hope that the situation improves soon.

La Candelaria is a very lively area with a lot of students, owing to the many universities located here. It is also the oldest part of the city, where most historical buildings and museums are. Hence it is the area where most foreign travellers stay when visiting Bogotá. This, in turn, attracts thieves looking for easy money. The majority of restaurants in La Candelaria are closed by 8 pm and, after dark, few people linger in the streets of the centre.

On Friday afternoon we went to visit the Police Museum: we had an interesting but way too long mandatory guided tour. The nice guide did his best, but I struggled to follow his broken English (alas, most people in the group didn't speak Spanish).

It's Saturday afternoon and it is raining in Bogotá. I just left the handsome gilded interiors of the Iglesia de Santa Clara and found shelter from the rain in a cybercafé. I will walk back to the hostel as soon as the rain stops. Tonight is my last night in Colombia. Time to pack up and say goodbye to this beautiful country. I'm catching a flight to London tomorrow at 10 am.

Cali

On Friday 8, at 4 pm, I arrived in Cali, the southernmost Colombian city I visited in my journey. At the bus terminal I caught a taxi to Iguana Guesthouse where I had reserved a bed in the dorm a few days before. After three minutes, the driver stopped another taxi and told me that I had to change vehicle due to some unspecified problem. I complied, but this second driver attempted to overcharge me, dismissing the recommended fare I got from the taxi line as "last year's". The Iguana is very popular with international backpackers and booking in advance is highly recommended, especially on weekends. It is located near "La Sexta" a central street where most salsa nightclubs and bars belong.

Cali has a significant share of black population and poverty is apparent, even downtown. Police presence is scarce. It is not unusual to see homeless people sleeping in the streets and there is a lot of prostitution. After sunset, groups of transvestites (or transexuals?) take over the sidewalks in the centre. They are the walking proof of how advanced Colombia is in plastic surgery. They proudly flash their fake boobs and asses to potential clients. They do look like very attractive women until you hear their voice and suddently realise that they sound more like Manolo or Braulio.... :-O

The temperature in Cali is hot all year and there is not much to see or do. The city is popular for its nightlife, something that doesn't interest me much. The deafening music coming from the clubs along La Sexta didn't really contribute to lure me in. And besides, there is nothing in the Cali nightlife that I could not experience in London (paying four times as much of course! ;-)))

I took advantage of this three-night stop to chat with the other guests, update my blog and take it easy, for the first time since I started this journey.

Personally, one of the highlights of Cali is the ice cream I had at Diva's, a heladeria on Avenida 9.
On Friday afternoon, the ambiguous but nice waiter served me two balls of divine ice cream: the flavours of my choice were coconut and chocolate. It tasted like the real thing. I later got to know that the Colombian owner went to Italy to practice the fine craft of ice-cream making, and it shows! On top of that, the place is also an art gallery, with sculptures of feminine figures on display.

Naturally, being a gelato-addict, I returned for more. To my frustration and dismay the place closed on Friday, never to open again (at least until I left), arghhh! I checked the place out daily, but it was hopelessly closed. Victim of a profound injustice, I was left with the crave. :-(((

The San Antonio hill has a park that affords a beautiful view of the centre. From the top I took a few pictures of downtown Cali at sunset.

On Monday evening I had dinner at the Argentinian restaurant opposite the guesthouse. I ate juicy beef with a salad, before grabbing my backpack and heading for the bus terminal. There I got on the first night bus to Bogotá, 10 hours away. On the next post I will write about the capital of Colombia, where I am at present. Un abrazo.

Two organic coffee farms around Salento

On Thursday 7 February I left the Plantation House with some of the guests with whom I hiked the Cocora Valley a day earlier. The programme for the afternoon was to visit two organic coffee farms in the mountains around Salento. After one hour walking on a dirt road we got to Finca Don Elias. The founder and owner Don Elias himself welcomed us and took us on a tour around the plantation.

He showed us the two types of plants Arabica and Colombiana, their white flowers. The difference between the two plants is the colour of the ripe grains (red or yellow) and the life span. Arabica plants yield fruits for 30 years while Colombiana for 9 years only. Both types are harvested together and mixed. Once the outer skin has been removed, the greenish beans are indistinguishable.

In its natural environment, coffea grows under the shade. Banana and plaintain, with their large leaves, are often the trees of choice to provide the shadow in organic farms. We also found other plants growing alongside coffee, such as lemon, orange, pineapple and lulo.
No pesticides or chemicals are used in these plantations, only natural products coming from the composting process. Don Elias explained us that he makes good business at the moment, since the price of coffee is rising. He is a nice man and very passionate about his work.

He hires five seasonal pickers to help him harvesting the beans from the plants. Two harvests take place every year: the first from March to May and the second in October-November. A machine operated manually removes the skin, exposing the beans, before they are placed in the greenhouse to dry. The natural drying process can take from ten days up to one month, depending on the weather. At the end of the visit Don Elias grinded some beans that he had roasted beforehand and his wife prepared coffee for all of us. The smell of the coffee powder was most inviting. Hi wife candidly revealed us that she has around ten cups of coffee per day, even before going to sleep.... :-O

We bade farewell to this charming family to pay a visit to the next-door Finca El Ocaso, bigger and more automated. Javier, an employee, gave us a tour across the large plantation before showing us the machinery that performs the bean extraction, washing and drying operation.

Our tour ended in the greenhouse where beans are left to dry when the amount of harvested coffee exceeds the capacity of the hot-air owen used as drying machine. The white beans are shipped in bags to the importing countries where they are roasted and turn to the familiar "coffee" colour! We had another courtesy cup of coffee before leaving at sunset to catch a bus back to Salento. :-))

I was looking forward to this visit, since I missed the opportunity in northern Nicaragua. I was not disappointed. Both farms were interesting and gave me insights into the art of organic coffee production.

On Friday morning I left Salento on a bus heading to Armenia where I caught a connection to the city of Cali, four hours south.

Zona Cafetera: Armenia, Filandia and Salento

In the morning of Monday 4 February I left Medellín on a bus to Armenia, at the heart of the Zona Cafetera (Quindío department), the region producing nearly half of Colombian coffee. During the six hour trip I had the privilege of DVD entertainment: the latest Jean-Claude Van Damme movie. What a treat! :-(((
The city of Armenia isn't attractive in itself, but it makes a good base to explore the surrounding coffee region. It practically only has modern architecture, for a reason: a third of the city centre was destroyed by an earthquake in 1999.
From the bus terminal I took a taxi to the hotel Quijote, recommended by my book. The fare I had to pay was calculated by a clerk in a booth by the taxi line. They offer this service free of charge to prevent taxi drivers from overcharging customers. Remarkable initiative.
I strolled around the centre in the late afternoon to acknowledge that there isn't much to see in this city. Police presence is much lower here than in Medellín. I tried not to linger alone in the streets at night and went back to the hotel after dinner. BTW, everything shuts down after 9 pm, so there isn't any reason to linger...

The next morning I took a bus to Filandia, a charming village located one hour from Armenia. Its brightly painted houses and the church make it a fine destination for a half-day trip.

On Wednesday morning, after two nights spent in Armenia I decided to move on to Salento, another attractive village in the mountains, one hour from the city. I was recommended to stay at The Plantation House, a good choice. The British owner is friendly and has plenty of information to share. Salento is a nice and quiet place to stay and it attracts hosts of Colombian visitors on weekends. It is also the right place to explore the nearby Valle de Cocora and to visit organic coffee farms. As pretty much everywhere in Colombia, people are helpful and friendly and will reply ¡A la orden! (You're welcome!) when you thank them. Another popular expression is ¡chévere!, which means "good!".

Literally after dropping my bags at the reception I was asked if I wanted to join a group of guests who were leaving in 5 minutes to explore the Cocora Valley. I hopped on the "Willys", an old jeep model still in use in this region, and off we went. The group was composed by three Australians, three Americans, a Greek woman and myself. The jeep dropped us at the beginning of the uphill trail leading to Finca Acaime through the valley. We agreed with the driver that he would come and pick us up at the same place at 4:30 pm, six hours later.

Valle de Cocora is a surreal place: the landscape would look like the Alps, but there is an exotic elements that we definitely lack in Europe: wax palms. The lush hills are covered with these tall trees creating a unique view. The region is covered in clouds and mist, creating a light/shadow contrast that enhance the dreamlike appearence of this place.

After one hour of march, we entered the cloud forest portion of the trail. We had to cross several foot bridges before finally making it to the Acaime farm. There we met the nice Doña Gladys, who served us chocolate santafereño (hot chocolate with cheese) while we gazed at the hummingbirds flying around and sipping nectar from the bottles fitted around the farm.

We left the farm and hiked a different trail that took us to a second farm called Finca La Montaña. From there it was all downhill until we reached the road where we agreed to meet the jeep driver.

Back to Salento, hungry after the long hike, we had trout at the restaurant Super Patacon on the square. I do not know for sure, but I suspect that the cheese at the farm gave me a strong stomachache in the evening. Among eight people, I was again the lucky one who got food poisoning. After spending the whole Thursday morning resting in bed I decided that I felt good enough to go and visit two organic coffee farms, one hour walking from the village.

El Peñol and Guatapé

On Friday 1 morning I got on a bus to El Peñol, two hours from Medellín. It is a 200-metre-high stone with a mirador on top of it. 715 steps of a concrete staircase built in a crack of the stone take the visitor to the summit. The 360 degree view from the top is amazing. The whole area was flooded years ago to create a reservoir. The original village of El Peñol was covered in water. When the water level decreases, it is still possible to spot the roof of the old church tower emerging from the lake. Today, 35% of Colombian energy is produced here.

I spent nearly an hour in the mirador, admiring the astonishing panorama offered by the lake and the many islands. This is definitely one of the most impressive sights I experienced in Colombia. Words are not enough to describe it.

Around noon I left the stone and walked back to the main road where some kind Colombians working in the army offered me a lift to the nearby village of Guatapé. I offered to pay for the ride, but they declined. Guatapé is a village with some colorful houses and a handsome church. The main square has a circular fountain that enhances its charm.

I asked around for a suggested restaurant and was sent to a place named Vaso 'e leche, on the lake shore. Good tip indeed. I had a filling dish of comida corriente (set meal) and a beer.

After lunch I strolled through the streets of the village, taking pictures and observing the slow pace of life. In one of the most picturesque cobbled streets I watched a man laying down blankets full of white coffee beans, to dry them in the sun.

I caught the 3:30 pm bus back to Medellín. In the evening I had dinner with Colin, an American traveller from Portland, Oregon who is living in San Diego. We were sleeping in the same dorm at the Black Sheep. He spent part of his holiday working as an English teacher for free at a local school in Medellín. We had a pizza and a Peroni beer at Il Forno, an Italian restaurant in the Zona Rosa. In light of the coming elections in the USA we discussed about the current political and social landscape in the States and in the word, a theme that is dear to me. We agreed on many points. Most travellers I meet, Americans or not, are open-minded people who seem to have a view of the world that diverges from that proposed by the mainstream media. If only people travelled more and spent less time in front of the nefarious TV set... wishful thinking!! ;-)))

On Saturday afternoon Camilo took me on his Vespa to Santa Elena, where we spent the night with a dozen friends at Daniel's finca, a cottage in the mountains. Every guest contributed some money to buy food and rum. We played football, listened to music and most people smoked dope, before firing up the BBQ. We had pork sausages, beef, salad and arepa. The temperature was cold, therefore we picked up wood to make a campfire outside and light up the fireplace inside the house. Luckily Camilo brought an extra sleeping bag for me. I slept like a baby. :-)))

On Sunday afternoon I went to a multiplex cinema to watch a new Colombian movie called Paraíso Travel, after reading positive reviews. Well, I do not recommend it. Stereotypical plot/actors as well as poor acting are the main reasons to give it a miss.

In the evening I had yet another BBQ at the hostel. This is a weekly social event organised by the owner. It was nice to meet and chat with the other travellers, all foreigners.

In the morning of Monday 4 February I left Medellín on a bus to Armenia, at the heart of the Zona Cafetera, the region producing nearly half of Colombian coffee. More about this in the next post!

A week in Medellín

Medellín, capital of the Antioquia department, is a modern city with a population of 2.5 millions, the second largest in Colombia after Bogotá. I arrived here on the morning of Tuesday 29 January. I managed to rest on the coach bus by sedating myself into sleep, after leaving the Bogotá terminal. The drug worked so well that the driver had to shake me back into consciousness once we got to Medellín, nine hours later. I caught the metro to the Poblado station and walked to the Black Sheep, a recommended hostel.

Most Europeans still tend to associate Medellín with drug cartels, but that's old news. In the centre there are policemen at every street corner and in every metro station. At the moment this city is as safe as most large urban centres in Latin America and there is definitely more to Medellín than cocaine trade and Pablo Escobar's legacy. Paisas (as Antioquia people are named) are known for their entrepreneurial spirit as well as for their warmth and hospitality. The year-round temperate climate earned Medellín the nickname of "City of Eternal Spring". The city is the main producer of flowers in Colombia and the Feria de las Flores held every year in August is a very spectacular festival where people and carts adorned with flowers parade along the streets.

The city gave birth to Fernando Botero, the painter and sculptor famous for his obese figures. Plazoleta de las Esculturas, close to Parque Berrío, contains several sculptures donated by the artist. Medellín also boasts an efficient two-line metro, above the ground, as well as two cable car lines (Metrocable) to reach the poorest neighborhoods on the mountains sourrounding the city. The cable car shows an affort to connect the poorest areas to the centre in order not to exclude them from the city. A public library with computers and modern facilities was also built in Santo Domingo to attract kids, educate them and possibly keeping them away from the streets.

On Wednesday morning I went to visit the University of Antioquia and the interesting Cementerio de San Pedro. The peculiar feature of this cemetery is the decoration of some of its tombs. Apart from the usual flowers, people come and stick banners, teddy bears, football team emblems, poems and religious images on the tombstones.

In the evening at the hostel I met again Camilo, the student from Medellín I met in Panama City. He took me to a restaurant in the Zona Rosa where I had the bandeja paisa, the typical dish with carne molida, arroz, chicharrón, aguacate, huevo and arepa. He had mondongo soup, another popular choiche in this region. Zona Rosa is the area where most posh clubs and restaurants are. It is a 15-minute walk from the hostel, in the Poblado neighbourhood.

On Thursday morning I caught the cable car to barrio Santo Domingo for a spectacular view of Medellín from above. Most houses in the slum are made of bare bricks and have metal roofs kept in place by bricks or other heavy objects, to prevent the wind from carrying them away.

Later in the morning, from the north terminal I caught a bus to San Felix and asked the driver to drop me at Estadero El Voladero, a place recommended by the hostel for a paragliding tandem flight. After paying $42 and walking to the flying camp I met Jaime, the instructor. The camp, one hour from central Medellín, is located on a hill affording an impressive view of the city and the surrounding mountains.

While waiting for my airborne lift I fooled around with the nice policemen who were at the flying ground. I impersonated an Italian drug smuggler arrested by the Colombian police. To make it all the more real, one of them handcuffed me with the esposas (literally "the wives") he was carrying, before a colleague took a picture of us. We laughed a lot. :-)))

The thirty-minute flight was smooth and easy, although I have to admit that I felt airsick most of the time. I think my sickness was not related to vertigo or stress, but rather to the continual motion we were subject to in order to find ascensional currents. The bird's-eye view and the silence surrounding us were simply breathtaking.

Despite the sickness I am happy I did it. I am sure that it's like driving a car on a winding road instead of being a passenger: If I were to steer the fly instead of simply being a payload I would probably feel less sick. :-)))

I was given a lift back to Medellín by Isabel and Juan, two students I met at the flying ground. Isabel too had the paragliding experience and felt as sick as me. To ease our sickness we both had a glass of lemon juice from the bar at the parking lot, before leaving in Juan's car :-)). I told them that I intended to visit the Museo de Antioquia in the centre and they were so kind to drop me right next to it. I spent two hours visiting the exhibitions in the three floors. The top floor hosts a collection of paintings and sculptures donated by Fernando Botero, 92 made by him and 22 made by other artists.

To reply to those among you who inquired about my return to Europe: I am flying back to the London winter :-( on Sunday 17 February from Bogotá, via New York.