The advert was right you know

 

Cali, just another polluted and crowded city...or was it?

No, it is!

This maybe the salsa capital of Colombia but lets face it no one is going to be seeing me dance any time soon.

The hostel I was staying at was right in the centre of the action and I was here for the weekend. My bed was great, the wifi was fast and once again I had the unexpected bonus of cable tv. Sometimes I am very easy to please.

So what did I do for the weekend...mmm let me see

1. watched tv, the motogp and F1 were on over the weekend

2. drank beer in the street bars, I did go to an “expat bar” but at 6000 pesos a beer they were taking the piss. The same beer in the street bar was 66% cheaper and you could smoke at the table

3. relaxed, this is a very important and often overlooked activity!

The weekend passed by quickly and Monday morning came around in no time at all. As I was only going a few hours down the road I had a lazy start to the day. Just after midday the bus pulled into Popayan's bus station. From there it was a short walk into the centre of town and the hostel trail hostel. This place is run by the people that bring you the Hosteltrail.com website, which is most excellent.

Popayan has a well looked after colonial centre but back in the early 80's it got trashed by an earthquake, its been rebuilt rather well. As with most towns like this the walls are white and the roof tiles are terracotta. I bimbled around during the afternoon till the idea of yet another siesta entered my head...

The next day was Tuesday and that meant it was market day in the nearby Andean village of Silvia. Surprisingly even though I didn't need to buy anything I went. The bus took around an hour to get there and after yet another curve on the twisty mountain road I was treated to a glimpse of a snow capped mountain peak. It's the 1^st one I've seen since Nepal...damn has it really been that long!!

The village of Silvia isn't architecturally attractive and the market isn't here for the tourist. It's a local market for local people which in this case means the Guambinos, many of the still dress in traditional outfits. After a breakfast at a café on the square I bimbled around the side streets before heading down to the fast flowing river. Above the river is a small man made lake and from there I could see a small church on a slight elevation on the other side of the river.

On the way to the church my improved stone throwing ability paid off handsomely. The stone bounced off the snarling dog's head resulting in a loud yelp and a tactical withdrawal by the dog, I puffed out my chest in manly pride.

Arriving at the church the view was good but I thought that standing on the small hillock 200m up the dirt road would provide an all together better view...I was right.

In the evening back in Popayan I went to the El Sotareno bar. It's a blast from the past and that evening the owner was playing Argentina classics from the early to middle part of the 20^th century.

Wednesday was my last day in Popayan so I checked out the local museum of modern art (I know another one). In the evening I went for a bimble, the great thing about the colonial centre is that all the street lights are old style lamps attached to the walls of the buildings. It gives everything a subdued glow and creates a soft ambience. I ended back at El Sotareno and a good sign of a well bar is this: by the time I had reached the bar the owner had already opened a bottle of beer for me.

On Wednesday morning I got on a bus to....

Tierradentro

Thirteen centuries ago people lived and died in a valley and they buried their dead in underground tombs. No one knows what they called the place but these days its called Tierradentro Archaeological Park.

It sounded to me like a place worth getting on a bus for and unless you fancy a 2-4km uphill walk after several hours on a bus then there is only one bus a day. It left Popayan at 10:30 so I didn't have to set my alarm clock.

The bus was a South American classic and I was more than happy to get a window seat. As soon as the bus cleared the outskirts of Popayan it started climbing. An hour later it was still climbing as the tarmac ran out. Time for things to get bouncy. The road unsurprisingly was curvy and twisty but the views were great...when I could see through the dust. The aftermath of several landslides made the going slow and slippery and the hours pass slowly. Halfway through the journey the road “levelled out” to cross a small plateau and it was at this point the road works started. The muddy dirt road was being upgraded to concrete and half the road width had been done already. Sadly no one was allowed to drive on it just yet. That meant the traffic had to take it in turns to go single file along the heavily used muddy dirt side.

More hours passed and we stopped in the large village of Inza to allow lots more people to slowly clamber on board. This took a while as the passage way was full of boxes, bags and suitcases, all of which had to be climbed over/stood on! Eventually we got going again and headed downhill. A short while later (that is a relative term) the bus turned off the main road and headed up a valley towards Tierradentro and the tiny village of San Andres de Pisimbala.

There are places to stay outside the park entrance but I had decided to stay in the village which was a further 2km up the road. The bus came to a stop and by the time it started to pull away and head back down the valley I had almost made it to the door. A loud shouted “Oi” stopped the bus allowing me to disembark.

I'm staying in the fanciest place in the village for the grand price of 20,000 pesos a night. The guy who owns place is a top bloke and he also owns the restaurant across the road...which is handy! The mainly bamboo constructed hospedaje is only half finished but the simple quality of the room combined with a great view on the veranda and the added bonus of a proper shower with pipping hot water made it a winning combination. After 6 hours of bouncing around in a bus I relaxed outside on the veranda in an easy chair with my feet up, fag in mouth and a mug of coffee in my hand. In the evening after a simple but great tasting dinner I found it hard to keep my eyelids open...

In the morning I was outside, fag in hand at 6am. The hostile chill of the early mountain morning kept at bay by my snug jumper. The American lass I had dinner with last night (we were the only gringos here) was catching the 06:20 bus to Popayan. I banged on her door before the owner (Leonardo) could to make sure she was up and ready. As a reward for my good deed of the day he disappeared across the road only to return a few minutes later with a big mug of the “nectar of early mornings”, which is coffee in case you hadn't guessed.

By 8am I was fed,caffeined up and ready to go a walking! The walk along the road to the park entrance was downhill and was taken at a “where's the rush” pace. A ticket only costs 10,000 pesos and is valid for two days. The 1^st set of tombs were across a river via an arched bouncy bamboo bridge and then steeply uphill...bugger! By the time I reached the entrance, beads of sweat were being respectful of gravity and I was wondering why I hadn't in fact brought that adjustable neoprene knee support I had seen for sale in a shop in Popayan.

However the tombs were worth the agony! The 1^st site had several tombs you could go into, the descent into the earth was down large spiral steps hewn out of the rock. At the bottom of the shaft was a narrow entrance leading into the tomb itself. Each one varied in size and the number of pillars it had. The pillars had been carved and along with the walls they were painted. Not all the artwork in each tomb had survived but two of them had artwork that although was slightly faded was almost completely intact.

From there it was a “ten minute walk honest Guv” to the next set of tombs. Unlike before these ones didn't have any artificial light so my little torch came in handy. After checking out the tombs it was a hard slog uphill to the road. Once on the road it was an enjoyable and easy downhill bimble to the 3^rd site of the day. This time is wasn't tombs but several statues in an easy to recognise pre-colombian form. There were also good views to be had of the upper reaches of the valley.

Leaving the statues behind the road made it's way downhill back to the village which has a 400 year thatched roof and white walled church in its centre. I spent a good part of the rest of the afternoon sitting in a chair with my feet up on the veranda.

The hearty meal in the evening didn't stand a chance!

The next day;

Once again I was up early, it may have had something to do with going to bed a 9pm but I'm not sure, the night-life in the village is conspicuous by its absence. After overdosing on coffee and devouring a couple of fried eggs I hit the road.

About 1km down the road the path to a set of tombs appeared. Passing ripe coffee beans waiting to be picked I crossed the river and headed uphill. Damn, it was steep! It took a while to reach the tombs, the views kept distracting me (OK; my ankle, knee and being an unfit fat chain smoking bastard may of contributed towards the slow ascent). Once at the tombs I sat on a bench in the shade of a tree and got my breath back. The tomb were pretty cool and for 20 minutes kept me occupied.

The 2^nd set of tombs for the day were several hundred metres up and two mountain ridges away. I laughed when the guard said it would only take an hour of walking to get there. I set off up the steep twisty path, the higher I got the better were the views. The higher I got the louder my breathing became. After many many minutes I passed a small holding, turned a corner and saw that I was on top of the ridge. The valley below me was breathtakingly beautiful. It was narrow and lush with a few simple dwellings towards the bottom and the small river. The only sound I could hear was the beat of my heart, which was worryingly irregular.

Looking across the valley I could see the 2^nd ridge, it was bigger and steeper than the one I had just climbed....oh!!!

Walking down the muddy path I spent several minutes at various places taking in the views. Crossing the small river via slippery rocks, the going got tough and the whimpering fool got quiet. I passed several locals on the way and each one of them looked as fresh as a daisy! The path snaked its way up the side of the ridge and so did I. After several turns in the path I would catch my breath and get my camera out. Finally I reached the top of the ridge, knackered and aching. The views of two valleys filled my eyes and I rested for a while. Walking along the ridge I came across the final set of tombs. Dotted along the ridge were several open tombs robbed out in days long past. There were two tombs under cover and they were worth the walk.

Now it was downhill all the way. The path followed the descending ridge line and at one point two vultures passed over the ridge 20ft above my head. The sound of the air swooshing over their wings was magical. A short while later the path plunged down into the valley. By the time I had reached the bottom my legs were feeling the strain of the descent. The 2km walk back up the valley was a leisurely affair.

When I got back to the village the 1^st beer didn't even wet my throat but the 2^nd one did.

On Sunday I enjoyed a day of rest and relaxation and when Monday came around I was up early and was outside waiting for the 06;30 bus to arrive

At 7am a pick up turned up! By the time everyone had clambered on board the only space left was sitting perched forward on the roof-rack...brilliant! The road to La Plata was dusty and bumpy but I had great valley views. An added bonus of roof-rack travel is that you can smoke.

Two hours later I was in La Plata bus station and a short while after that I had a bus ticket for the 10am bus to San Agustin. By 10:30 there was still no sign of the bus but “the man” smiled and said “its all okay”. At 11am the expression on his face was one of “bugger, I forgot about the gringo”. I was hastily chucked into a car and it raced to catch up with the bus, which was actually a pick up. On board in the back of the pick-up the only thing to see was plastic. After 20 minutes some one else climbed on board, as the tarp was pulled back the view look oddly familiar.

I was only on the road back to San Andres!!!

Arriving back in the village I had left this morning, Leonardo had a deeply puzzled look on his face. The next transport back to La Plata was at 4pm...time to read my book

By 6pm I was once again in La Plata but this time it wasn't the bus station I was standing in but the reception of a cheap hotel. Leaving my bags in the room I walked the two blocks to the main square to find a fiesta in full swing. The square was packed with people and around the square the semi drunk cowboys rode their horses disco style. I found it all rather amusing, well apart from the horse bit.

In the morning I was back at the bus station to buy another ticket to San Agustin, turns out you can't WTF!!!! Instead I got a pick-up to Garzon two hours away over the mountains. From there I was able to get a bus all the way to San Agustin.

I arrived in the village in the late afternoon and found a great little B&B on the edge of the village. Umberto, the owner was a great host and after checking in he told me that he didn't always run a guest house. He used to work in a factory, a three day journey into the jungle. The factory used to be owned by Pablo Escobar!

The next morning I walked the 3lkm uphill to the archaeological park (it's why people come here). In the 78ha park are various tombs but the main attraction are the multitude of kick arse statues dotted around the place. I walked around, taking shelter when the drizzle turned to downpours.

Back at the B&B Umberto's mate tried really really really hard to get me to go on a horse ride the following day. Poor guy didn't have a hope in hell. Instead I went on a Jeep tour. The sun was out and the views were great. The tour took in a couple more archaeological sites and two waterfalls, one of which is the 2^nd highest in South America (so now I've seen no.1 &no.2)

The next day I chilled out and worked out my travel plans for my last week in Colombia. My 1^st choice of hanging out in a hostel in the jungle near the town of Mocoa didn't pan out as the hostel was fully booked. So instead on Saturday I returned to Popayan

Right now it's Tuesday the 12^th of July and I'm staying in the Koala inn in Pasto, a large town 3 hours from the border.

Tomorrow I will be in Ecuador for the 1st time in 17 years.