Trekin through Colombia!

The first official hotel of the trip and were happy to have A/C to save us from the coastal heat.  We woke u and enjoyed breakfast at the hotel and met the owner and family friend Oswaldo. He quickly helped us book a trek and gave us some pointers about what to do/see in the city. After talking to him for a while, he thought we would have more fun in one of his apartments that overlooked the bay in Rodadero. We got settled there, in our three bedroom apartment, that was a full ten steps from the bay. That evening we walked arounWe made it to the Hotel Bahia Plaza in Santa Marta late after a short flight and a bus ride afterward.  We check into td and ate at a few street food vendors on the beach. We had some gyro’s, sandwiches, kebobs, and ceviche. The food on the beach was amazing and at a fraction of the cost of anything we would have had in town. We walked around looking at various bracelets, ceramics, and other random artisan stands set up only to entice travelers anxious to take home a souvenir from their holiday in the Caribbean. We then enjoyed some drinks on the beach with our feet in the ocean. The beach is literally crawling with partying Colombians well into the night. We got to sleep long before most of the locals called it a night.  The next morning we ate a quick breakfast and got on a bus to Playa Los Angeles, a local beach about an hour away. The long strip of beach was basically deserted except for a group of Canadian travelers who had driven a van down from Canada and were camping there. We pretty much had the entire beach to ourselves. We laid on the sand, read some John Grisham, and attempted to swim in the really strong waves. A few brave souls dared to surf in the violent shore break, but we were not about to try it. After a few hours of soaking up the Caribbean rays we went back to our apartment and made another batch of gormet grilled cheese sandwiches. We walked around the beach again until it got dark. Again, ate some street food and had a few drinks. We called it another early night in preparation for our 5 day 4 night Ciudad Perdida Trek.  We were picked up at the hotel and driven to the agency where we would meet our fellow trekers. We met an American guy named John, some Aussies named Andy, Rowen, and Reece, and a lot of Irish girls with very complicatedly spelled names. In all we were 14 and ready for the long trek. Or were we? About an hour or so into the first day a monsoon like rain started to pour, and showed no sign of letting up. We climbed up slippery hills of red clay for a good three or four hours, stopping for the occasional fruit break. A few of the group members had some falls, but overall we did pretty well. We crossed a few rivers that came up to our hips and continued towards our first stop. That evening we arrived at our site. It was a few small houses with a long covered area wall to wall with soaking wet clothes, an action that would prove to be very pointless over the next few days. Our cooks prepared us a small Colombian feast and we stayed up until the outrageous hour of 9pm. 

The next morning we awoke to our guide’s voice saying “vamos a la playa!” Literally translated as “lets go to the beach.” Not surprisingly there was no beach in sight, nor would there be for the duration of the trek. However, after a terrible night’s sleep in the hammocks, we slowly made our way to the breakfast table, ate, packed up our soaking wet clothes, and moved out. That day we would walk for another four hours or so until we reached our second site. The second day was much dryer than the first, which made hiking over clay a bit easier. We took a few fruit breaks and were able to swim in the river along the way. This day we passed a few indigenous communities of the Tayrona people. As we passed them some said hi, some ignored us, and some stared at us like we were from another planet. To a community which up until 1977 had seen very little presence of white people, a group of backpack clad gringos probably did look a bit strange. However, after half a day of trekking through rivers and sloshing through very wet and very deep mud we arrived at our destination. We again, played some poker (with rocks and sugar packets as our chips), swam in the river, and once again hung up our soaking clothes with false hopes that they would be any dryer by morning.  Our cooks prepared lunch upon arrival, and dinner a few hours later. After enjoying more of the finest Colombian cuisine that could be made under such circumstances, we played more card games and went to sleep, in bunk beds this time. The next day was the same drill. Groggy morning, long hike through the jungle, then arrived at our destination. Apparently our group made some good progress because we arrived at our next camp an hour ahead of schedule. Because of our hasty journey, we made the unanimous decision to continue the extra hour to the Ciudad Perdida, instead of venturing up the next morning. After lunch we made the short journey to the 2000+ steps that led up to the lost city of the Tayronas. The ruins were kind of amazing. We made our way up the long flight of stairs to see a few dozen stone circles, intricately placed around the grounds. We were told all these circle structures were once that foundations of houses from the time when the Tayrona lived freely up there, and before the Spanish discovered the sacred ground and forced the evacuation of its people. Up at the very top we were greeted by some Colombian soldiers who were quote unquote, “protecting” the ruins. We took a few pictures with the nice young men carrying really big guns, while our guide gave them some chocolates and suckers. 

Ciudad Perdida

The group.

Honestly, they looked extremely bored with their assignment that most likely meant little more than posing with tourists and camping in the Colombian rainforest. After a few hours walking around the ruins, we made the walk back to our site. Where, as you probably guessed, we played cards and ate dinner. This night dinner happened to be a delicious yet simple meal of spaghetti with crackers. And the next day we were off. With ambitious intentions of walking the 7 hours back to our first site, we were full of energy. However, once we made it to site number two for lunch the torrential downpour started again with no signs of slowing down. We were then advised by our guide that continuing in that weather would not be a good idea, so we did everything we could do to pass the time until our long journey home the next day. We once again swam in the river and played a few intense games of rock poker. We were also given a full, and VERY detailed, history of the Tayronas. After our intense, and exhausting history lesson we were off to bed in our bunk beds one last time. On day 5 we woke up and made the final journey back to Santa Marta. Having long forgotten what it felt like to take a shower, sleep in past six, or to feel dry clothes, we made our way back to modern civilization. We had one last meal of typical Colombian fried fish, meat, or chicken, and then, after a few hour drive, we were back in the hotel. We said our goodbyes and exchanged contact information with our new friends and then hurried up to the room to take showers that were much needed, much deserved, and far too long. That night we relaxed, scratched our hundreds of bites, and enjoyed the refreshing feeling of a nice clean bed and AC. The next day we would pack up our things and leave for Cartagena, Colombia’s “most beautiful city,” according to Lonely Planet, and soon by ourselves as well.