1. Palomino to Santa Marta - 1.5 hours (note to self / pro tip: the availability of bus snacks are dependent on the time of the day. Daytime buses have more variety - like chips, nuts, popcorn, whole fruit or fruit nicely cut in cups - like sliced mango in cups with lemon juice and salt! But on this evening bus we only had ONE lady selling banana bread and brownie, which turned out to be pretty dry even though when she asked how it is Nic and I both smiled and…didn't say it was bad.)
2. Santa Marta to Bucaramanga - 8 hours, overnight, freezing cold (tip: buses in Colombia are usually cold, but not always, but quite often. Always be prepared.) I also realised here that I sleep better with a podcast on.
3. Bucaramanga to San Gil - was supposedly 3 hours but delayed by an hour because they oversold the bus. But I made a Colombian friend on the bus who showed me photos of his toddler and his own music videos on Instagram.
2. Santa Marta to Bucaramanga - 8 hours, overnight, freezing cold (tip: buses in Colombia are usually cold, but not always, but quite often. Always be prepared.) I also realised here that I sleep better with a podcast on.
3. Bucaramanga to San Gil - was supposedly 3 hours but delayed by an hour because they oversold the bus. But I made a Colombian friend on the bus who showed me photos of his toddler and his own music videos on Instagram.
San Gil - conquering fears!
II wasn’t actually planning on coming to San Gil at all. San Gil is often labelled 'the adventure capital of Colombia' and honestly I didn't have that much interest in adventure sports, but Nic told me about beautiful towns that are easily reachable from San Gil by day trips, and Nic and Stef were going to San Gil on their way to Bogotá, and I had time to kill before starting Spanish course in Medelliín, so rather than being a loner again I decided to join them. Because it’s (almost) always better to travel with people, especially when you have the time.
So, when in Rome, or San Gil in this case, might as well get involved in something exciting. Even though I didn't expect to do anything extreme, reading brochures about the activities had piqued my interest, and the prices were too enticing to pass on. So I ended up signing up for 2 things, and both really challenged my limits.
On the day, our guide picked us up and drove us to the outskirts of town - we had a private tour! A great advantage of travelling during the low season. We got geared up, and hopped over a fence to a ravine, and a short walk later we were at a platform. “OK girls you’re going to jump down into that pool - its only about 8 metres high”. 8 metres was not quite what I was expecting first thing in the morning.
The rest is in this video.
So, when in Rome, or San Gil in this case, might as well get involved in something exciting. Even though I didn't expect to do anything extreme, reading brochures about the activities had piqued my interest, and the prices were too enticing to pass on. So I ended up signing up for 2 things, and both really challenged my limits.
1. Canyoning
We chose to go jump off rocky platforms into rock pools and rappel down cliffs faces into waterfalls, as it was Stef's birthday. I sort-of knew what I was signing myself up for (sort of didn't) - I’m fine with rappelling because I knew I would have ropes, but I also knew we would have to jump off cliffs, but what I didn’t know was how high. BUT I also knew I wasn’t doing this alone. If they can do it, then surely I can too. Or if we were going to freak out, we’d freak out together.On the day, our guide picked us up and drove us to the outskirts of town - we had a private tour! A great advantage of travelling during the low season. We got geared up, and hopped over a fence to a ravine, and a short walk later we were at a platform. “OK girls you’re going to jump down into that pool - its only about 8 metres high”. 8 metres was not quite what I was expecting first thing in the morning.
The rest is in this video.
So glad I had friends to do it with, who showed me that fear can be conquered, it’s all in the mind, and who had patience as I cowered for a good 20 seconds before each free fall.
One small step for me, one giant leap for…my mind.
I had at times toyed with the idea of bungee jumping, but never thought I’d actually have the guts to sign up, because I never thought I’d actually have the guts to take that step out by myself.
After talking to a few people in the hostel who had just come back bungee jumping, I managed to convince myself that maybe it wasn’t that scary. I was also still a bit sleep deprived from the long bus journey, so while I didn’t have 100% of my senses I signed up for bungee jumping.
The day of the jump, I woke up feeling super drowsy. Perhaps if I had been fully awake and came to my senses, I might have bailed. But Stef, whom I was travelling with at that time, came along for moral support, and made sure I didn’t back down. My head was in a cloud on the taxi ride there. I signed a bunch of forms, got strapped up and rode a lift up a giant crane that hung over the river. I was waking up, but I was also too committed to back down. The instructor was super enthusiastic, very encouraging, but also very clear as to what I had to do. I tried to focus more on the technicalities rather than the fact that I was about to free-fall 70 metres down with a bouncy rope around my legs. The time came, and I simply blocked all thoughts of terror and fear from my mind, and recalled what the instructor said about how I had to leap off…
…and just jumped.
We did other things too.
We walked around town a bit, then took the Camino Real Trail - a 9km hike to the neighbouring town called Guane. The trail was originally built by the Guane indigenous people, then later used by the Spanish. The town of Barichara is famous for its well-maintained white-washed buildings with and doors. Before the hike we spent a bit of time just walking around town admiring the charming little shops and cafes, passing old men sitting in the square talking, watching people boozing outside the little tiendas & fondas (it was a Sunday).
The trail offered amazing mountainous views. There was also a little house on the way selling trinkets, dreamcatchers, water, soft drinks and Cola y Pola - a weird beer + coke drink, a Colombian thing. But it had a beautiful view from its backyard.
After the tour, we lunched at La Concordia, a tiny little market square serving up cheap and simple but delicious food (soup, rice, salad, egg).
We walked off our lunch by spending the afternoon at the Gold Museum. Museums are a bit of a hit-and-miss with me, I’m quite selective on what museums I like to visit. But the good thing about museums (and anything) in Colombia is they are inexpensive. It turned out to be quite fascinating - OK don’t ask me exactly what I learned but I did enjoy looking at the little gold figurings that the pre-colombians created with so much intricacy and detail, and marvelled not just at how skill they had, but also imagination and thoughtfulness and the complexity of what they had believed in.
After that bit of amusement, we met up with some of Stef’s friends at the base of Monserrate, took a cable car up to catch the sunset over Bogota.
Quite a few fellow travellers I’ve met have said that they didn’t like Bogota much, or didn’t find it that interesting. But looking out into this sprawling metropolis sitting on a plateau of the Colombian Andes, and walking through the graffiti-lined streets and standing in the middle of Plaza Bolivar surrounded by majestic palaces and grand cathedrals, it definitely deserves at least a short visit, if not a few days of lingering. Also a few people have said how dangerous they heard Bogota to be. But the only danger we encountered was the risk of eating too much when a 2 course meal at that little market costs less than $3. It’s not hard to stay out of danger - one just has to be sensible and not walk around alone at night in dodgy areas, not wear fancy clothing, and definitely not have your phone out and walk while staring at your screen. I reckon 90% of risk can be managed. The remaining 10% is luck. And I’ve been lucky in that regard so far.
The next morning, Stef and I went back to the same tour company for their graffiti tour, which was (conveniently for us) led by the same tour guide as yesterday. A lot of the graffitis spoke along the narrative lines of the oppression of the indigenous, slavery of Africans, the violence of the political past, on issues of environment and sociology…and what was interesting is that there are new graffitis that pop up almost every week, but there are also graffitis that get vandalised or painted over or altered fairly often as well.
After the tour, we visited the Botero Museum, a renowned Colombian artist and sculptor who draws or creates everything chubby. Chubby horses. Chubby people. Chubby apples. Chubby vases. We saw off Stef who had to leave for the airport, and Grace & I joined a food tour in the afternoon. Perhaps you might think 3 tours in 2 days is a bit much. Perhaps it was. But luckily there was FOOD to keep my feet powered up for all the walking. And actually there was a good amount of sitting and waiting for food. I didn’t have everything on the menu as I had been in Colombia for almost 3 weeks by then and had tried a couple things. Grace and I also shared a few things.
Did I mention that we also had lunch before the tour?
By the end of the tour I was stuffed. I went back to my hostel and passed out without dinner.
The next day, I flew to MedellÍn. Where I would spend the next 3 weeks. Where a lot of things would happen. Where a lot of things would change. Where I would leave without really leaving.
Medellin - next post.
2. Bungee jumping
One small step for me, one giant leap for…my mind.
I had at times toyed with the idea of bungee jumping, but never thought I’d actually have the guts to sign up, because I never thought I’d actually have the guts to take that step out by myself.
After talking to a few people in the hostel who had just come back bungee jumping, I managed to convince myself that maybe it wasn’t that scary. I was also still a bit sleep deprived from the long bus journey, so while I didn’t have 100% of my senses I signed up for bungee jumping.
The day of the jump, I woke up feeling super drowsy. Perhaps if I had been fully awake and came to my senses, I might have bailed. But Stef, whom I was travelling with at that time, came along for moral support, and made sure I didn’t back down. My head was in a cloud on the taxi ride there. I signed a bunch of forms, got strapped up and rode a lift up a giant crane that hung over the river. I was waking up, but I was also too committed to back down. The instructor was super enthusiastic, very encouraging, but also very clear as to what I had to do. I tried to focus more on the technicalities rather than the fact that I was about to free-fall 70 metres down with a bouncy rope around my legs. The time came, and I simply blocked all thoughts of terror and fear from my mind, and recalled what the instructor said about how I had to leap off…
…and just jumped.
San Gil wasn’t all adrenaline.
Barichara
A short bus ride took us to Barichara, one of Colombia's most beautiful colonial towns (later I discovered there are MANY of these spectacular colonial towns all over the mountainous regions of this country).We walked around town a bit, then took the Camino Real Trail - a 9km hike to the neighbouring town called Guane. The trail was originally built by the Guane indigenous people, then later used by the Spanish. The town of Barichara is famous for its well-maintained white-washed buildings with and doors. Before the hike we spent a bit of time just walking around town admiring the charming little shops and cafes, passing old men sitting in the square talking, watching people boozing outside the little tiendas & fondas (it was a Sunday).
The trail offered amazing mountainous views. There was also a little house on the way selling trinkets, dreamcatchers, water, soft drinks and Cola y Pola - a weird beer + coke drink, a Colombian thing. But it had a beautiful view from its backyard.
Bogota
After 3 nights in San Gil, we were back on the night bus and onwards to the capital. Nic stayed behind to do more exploring of little towns in the region, so it was just Steffie and I. Luckily when we got to the hostel at 6am, our hostel room was available so we were able to check in and have a quick nap, before heading out again for a free walking tour of La Candeleria area of the city.
This is one of those tours that I really like - a real honest blurb about history, culture, and current realities. The guide had a real passion for narrating the indigenous history where its current existence and relevance is key to understanding Colombia, as we stood next to a beautiful graffiti showing an old indigenous woman lamenting her oppressed culture. He talked about chicha - a fermented (alcoholic) corn drink, cooked with sugar cane. But when the Europeans came, they tried to ban Chicha - in order to sell beer. Even the indigenous DRINK is colonized & oppressed. Then of course, who can talk about Colombia (or even South America) without talking about the coca leaf culture - people now only know coca as the ingredient for cocaine and its drug trade that has wrecked these countries for the last 50 years, but the coca plant itself has been a significant part of the lives of the indigenous for the last 2000 years, owing to its medicinal and nutritional powers. And finally, coffee - locals mostly drink ‘tinto’ - instant, shit coffee, often with lots of sugar, to hide the burnt taste of over-roasted coffee. There isn’t really much of a coffee culture in Colombia. Why? Because most of the good stuff is exported, and sold at much higher prices, so the Colombians are left with the leftovers. The guide did not try to skip over the fact that Colombia is still a country of conflict, corruption, inequality, oppression, power struggles, murders…he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything to make Colombia seem like an all-peaceful lovely place in order to impress his tourists.
After the tour, we lunched at La Concordia, a tiny little market square serving up cheap and simple but delicious food (soup, rice, salad, egg).
We walked off our lunch by spending the afternoon at the Gold Museum. Museums are a bit of a hit-and-miss with me, I’m quite selective on what museums I like to visit. But the good thing about museums (and anything) in Colombia is they are inexpensive. It turned out to be quite fascinating - OK don’t ask me exactly what I learned but I did enjoy looking at the little gold figurings that the pre-colombians created with so much intricacy and detail, and marvelled not just at how skill they had, but also imagination and thoughtfulness and the complexity of what they had believed in.
After that bit of amusement, we met up with some of Stef’s friends at the base of Monserrate, took a cable car up to catch the sunset over Bogota.
Quite a few fellow travellers I’ve met have said that they didn’t like Bogota much, or didn’t find it that interesting. But looking out into this sprawling metropolis sitting on a plateau of the Colombian Andes, and walking through the graffiti-lined streets and standing in the middle of Plaza Bolivar surrounded by majestic palaces and grand cathedrals, it definitely deserves at least a short visit, if not a few days of lingering. Also a few people have said how dangerous they heard Bogota to be. But the only danger we encountered was the risk of eating too much when a 2 course meal at that little market costs less than $3. It’s not hard to stay out of danger - one just has to be sensible and not walk around alone at night in dodgy areas, not wear fancy clothing, and definitely not have your phone out and walk while staring at your screen. I reckon 90% of risk can be managed. The remaining 10% is luck. And I’ve been lucky in that regard so far.
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| After the tour, we lunched at La Concordia, a tiny little market square serving up cheap and simple but delicious food (soup, rice, salad, egg). |
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| The Gold Museum |
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| The Gold Museum |
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The next morning, Stef and I went back to the same tour company for their graffiti tour, which was (conveniently for us) led by the same tour guide as yesterday. A lot of the graffitis spoke along the narrative lines of the oppression of the indigenous, slavery of Africans, the violence of the political past, on issues of environment and sociology…and what was interesting is that there are new graffitis that pop up almost every week, but there are also graffitis that get vandalised or painted over or altered fairly often as well.
After the tour, we visited the Botero Museum, a renowned Colombian artist and sculptor who draws or creates everything chubby. Chubby horses. Chubby people. Chubby apples. Chubby vases. We saw off Stef who had to leave for the airport, and Grace & I joined a food tour in the afternoon. Perhaps you might think 3 tours in 2 days is a bit much. Perhaps it was. But luckily there was FOOD to keep my feet powered up for all the walking. And actually there was a good amount of sitting and waiting for food. I didn’t have everything on the menu as I had been in Colombia for almost 3 weeks by then and had tried a couple things. Grace and I also shared a few things.
Did I mention that we also had lunch before the tour?
By the end of the tour I was stuffed. I went back to my hostel and passed out without dinner.
The next day, I flew to MedellÍn. Where I would spend the next 3 weeks. Where a lot of things would happen. Where a lot of things would change. Where I would leave without really leaving.
Medellin - next post.
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| Botero |
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| Botero |
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| Botero |
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| Botero |
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| Food tour menu |
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| Food tour - cheese and chocolate was probably my favourite. |
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