Bogota has so much to offer. On D196 on my way to Cerro de Monserrate I stopped by to visit Simon Bolivar’s house. He stayed in this colonial house only 425 days within 10 years.
In the afternoon I admired the impressive and the world’s most famous gold museum. Wrecked after so much walking and reading I decided to walk to the nearest cinema and watch a French comedy about two friends.
Next day (D196) before I set to catch a bus to Neiva, I popped into the Museo Botero where some of Fernando Botero’s works are exhibited. Fernando Botero is a Colombian figurative artist (painter and sculptor), famous for depicting its subjects with” exaggerated and disproportioned volumetry”.
The bus trip to Neiva took longer as I anticipated and I could not continue my trip to Desert of Tatacoa. I had no choice just to check into a dodgy hotel near the bus terminal. I could not shut my eyes the whole night due to the music plus the movement in the hotel.
Early the following morning (D197) I took the bus to a village called Villa Vieja. From here you could hire motorbikes or motortaxi to drive you around the close by Desierto de la Tatacoa. Upon my arrival to Villa Viejo Don Carlos, a mototaxi driver figuratively jumped on me and wanted my business. Grumpy after a sleepless night I just did not have the energy to send him away so I let him to walk around with me to find a place to sleep. Eventually I decided to avail of his services and agreed to be picked up in the afternoon. Everything was going as planned until I went out for lunch and other mototaxi drivers approached me and offered the ride for a much cheaper price. Luckily I met Don Carlos I negotiated a better price for me (I thought). Just 20 minutes before he meant to pick me he was knocking on my door. He said that he found other tourists in the meantime and I could go with Sergio, his colleague. Since I exist I have done my best to honour verbal agreement with people. The problem is that the naïve me expects that other people would be the same. But many times I burn myself like in this case. At the end of the day we are living in an individualistic world where everyone is looking after their own material or social interest. Anyway in a way everything happens for a reason.
At first Sergio wanted to bring me to the nearest interest point of the Desert but I protested that this was not the initial agreement with Don Carlos.
So he brought me to different interesting places like a farm where I could taste some cactus wine and buy some cactus sweets made out of the cactus fruit. At end it was an enjoyable trip.
Early on my 200th Day I took a bus back to Neiva from where I continued my trip to San Agustin. This is a small town which is surrounded by different Pre-Colombia sites of tombs and mounds. On top of that it is quite pretty to walk around and admire the waterfalls and the nature. Once in San Agustin, I settled in Casa de Francoise a very friendly and nicely decorated hostel. One of the reasons why I came here was to meet up with Nico as he was doing woofing in a nearby coffee finca. But for some weird reason neither of communicated efficiently so it looked like we would miss each other. In the evening Olesja, the funny and first Belarusian girl I have ever met, arrived at the hostel.
The following morning (D201) I decided to visit the Parque Arqueologico de San Agustin that was a pretty walk around the hills of the San Agustin. This took me a few hours then I walked back to the city with the hope that I would get a sign from Nico. But life is full of miracles. As I was walking down in the centre of the town I spotted Nico walking towards me. How weird is that! It was a relief that we finally met. We decided that next day we would go on a jeep tour around San Agustin to see more to archaeological sites and waterfalls.
The tour started at 9 o’clock in the morning of D202 and six people participated (three in the back and three in the front of the jeep). In the first 20 minutes of the trip we were stuck for at least half an hour as they were doing some diggings.
The first stop was at the point where Rio Magdalena, the longest river in Colombia that crosses the whole country is at its narrowest. Then the Obando Museum followed that included some deep tombs.
After a long drive up on a dirt road we reached the Alto de los Idoles, a tranquil spot with impressive scenery. Here more tombs, mounds and carved statues could be seen.
As soon as we left Altos de los Idoles it started to rain but we still went to see the Salto de Bordones a 400m tall waterfall.
Here three small children approached us and started to tell the full history of the waterfall taking turns. It was quite impressive how much could they memorize.
The two stops on the list were the Alto de los Piedras, another archaeological site and the Salto del Mortino, a waterfall with a scary lookout point.
The driver was nice enough and he stopped at a factory where they were processing the local panelas or sugarcane.
Back in San Agustin we said our good byes with Nico and I finished the day with a nice cup of cappuccino at the Macizo Coffee.
On D203 I left San Agustin to Popayan early in the morning. The trip took around five to six hours crossing the mountains. My plan was to get to the border with Ecuador but due to the long distances within Colombia and the cocaine production in the southern part I decided to make a stop in Popayan. Definitely it was a good decision and worth the visit to the White City, its other name due to its white colonial houses. In one of my favourite Colombian cities I only spent an afternoon and a night in the laid back Irish – Basque owned Park Life Hotel (thank you Olesja for recommending it to me).
The alarm clock rang at 3:55am in the dawn of D204. I did not know where I was and why I was not in my bed in Sli Gheal, Galway. It was a first time in the last six months when I woke up confused. GRRR.!!! One of the kind guys from the hostel walked me to the nearest street to catch a taxi to the terminal. Once at the terminal I took the first bus leaving to Ipiales. A long day of travelling started at 4:45am.
The bus stopped for breakfast at 8:30 am and Sebastian, a young Colombian approached me if I would mind to cross the border together as he had a lot of luggage. I was happy to do it as it is nicer to pass seedy and corrupt borders with somebody.
In Ipiales, Jhon and girl joined us to share the colectivo to the Rumichaca border crossing. This way we could split Sebastian numerous bags. Later I found out that he just turned 18 and he decided with a friend to cycle around South America. He is a brave young adult with an innocent and pure happiness that contaminated all three of us. On the Colombian side the border crossing was straight forward.
Then we walked to the Ecuadorian side. First our bags were searched thoroughly by the Ecuadorian narcotic squad. I was luckily first because I was a tourist and second I smiled at him and acted nice and kind. As a result he only checked my small bag but he did not miss one item though. It was strange to see him smell my travel guide and my notebook.
This was a real welcome to one of the cocaine factory countries to a naive Hungarian living in Ireland, an almost perfect country protected of all the bad omens. On the other hand the young adult was grilled for 45 minutes and the police confiscated some of his stuff. WHAT AN ARSEHOLE!! The last step was our passports to be stamped which was much more straightforward. In order to continue our trip in Ecuador we had to take a taxi to Tulcan, the nearest bus terminal.
Once in Tulcan all of us were advice to take the bus to Quito. Sebastian and I wanted to stop at Otavalo whereas Jhon and the girl needed to get to Quito. From here the girl had another 20 hour bus trip to Lima, Peru. During the three hour journey to Otavala our bus was stopped five times for our bag and passports to be checked by the narcotics squad. It was insane!! I did not have so many checks in Colombia which is considered one of the notorious countries when it comes to drugs. At the end of one of the checks I asked for a whereabouts of a toilet from one of the driver’s assistants. He pointed the restaurant behind the bus and I said I would be back in a minute. Just two minutes later they were looking for me as the bus wanted to leave and my three new friends were screaming “Falta una” which means one is missing. The second bus driver assistant started to give out to me why I did not tell him and I responded that I told to his colleague.
The four of us had a crazy fun time joking and sharing bad quality white bread with Arequipa (caramelized condensed milk very sweet and yummy).
At 7 pm Sebastian and I got off the bus in the rainy and cold Otavalo where we checked into the El Rincon del Viajero hostel. After getting insight into the real Colombian life from a 18 year old I fell asleep instantly. By the end of the day the tourist only can see the superficial face of Colombia and if you just scrap a bit the real face of Colombia can be revealed which is scary, rough and corrupt. Despite all this I just adore Colombia and Colombians!!! I was a bit sad leaving the country after almost three weeks but life goes on! Farewell beautiful and multifaceted Colombia!!
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