Salento, mi amor!

Most of you who know us also know that we have been fortunate enough to have seen many, many incredibly beautiful places in our lives. Besides studying abroad in such fairy-tale places as Greece and Paris, we have also been to other parts of Europe, Russia, Peru, and lets not forget our own breathtaking country. Are we the luckiest people on the planet? I think so.

And just when we thought it couldn´t get any better, BAM! We arrived in Salento. Its a little town in the mountains (and when I say in the mountains I mean literally nestled into the side of a mountain, with views of many other mountains all around) that is very clean, with little houses painted all different colors and trimmed with wood, with happy people going about their lives and clean, healthy kids running home from school. There is a main square with a church (so different from every other town we got to!) and tons of shops, craft stalls, and fresh juice stands. (The availability of fresh juice in Colombia is insane! Everywhere you turn you can get a cheap, fresh-squeezed piece of heaven, made of fruits whose exotic names I wont even try to replicate here. This goes way up on the list of things we are going to miss). After wandering around a little, we got to the place where we wanted to stay, a hostal called the Plantation House, which also has a coffee farm and is the place Emma recommended so highly. After inquiring about dorm beds and being told they were full, the receptionist told us that there were available beds at the farm itself, which was just ten minutes down from the hostal along a dirt road.

HA! TEN MINUTES MI CULO! We should have known by then that her estimate was way off, considering that every time we take a bus anywhere we have to tack on about three hours to the ETA, and in general peoples sense of time here is downright hilarious, but alas, we were optimistic. So we set out, heavy backpacks and all, along this dirt road. Which, surprise surprise, wasnt a dirt road at all but rather a deep, muddy, rocky ravine complete with plenty of places to trip and slip. This thing was crunchy. It resulted in more than one attempt to grab on to the fence for support which, we learned the hard way, was made of barbed wire.

Eventually, we got to this alleged farm, covered in mud, sweat, and tears (ones that came from laughing so hard at ourselves and each other) only to find that we were, literally, in the most beautiful place either of us has ever seen. And thats a bold statement coming from us! There was a common area consisting of an outdoor (but covered) kitchen, dining and lounging area with a long wooden table, and a lookoout platform that had a hammok, a rocking chair, and a jaw-dropping view of the mountains. Every part of this structure was made out of bamboo, or varying thickness and color, and it was put together in such a natural, artistic, and simple way. Our beds were in a room that got pitch black at night, with comfortable beds that each had about 15 blankets, which was awesome because it got chilly at night and it was oh-so-cosy to crawl into bed.

Within the first few minutes of being there we met Andres, a dreadlocked, light-eyed, deep-voiced Colombian who, we became convinced, was the embodiment of indigenous peoples and mother nature combined. Apparently, he runs the farm, although he could have fooled us. I don´t think we saw him do any actual work the whole time we were there. Rather, his role seemed mainly to consist of talking to the other workers on the farm (who actually hacked away at weeds with their machetes), chatting with us, leading tours around the farm to explain how the coffee process works, and CHILLING. This dude was a professional if Ive ever seen one. He was so nice to us, made us lots of incredible coffee (you can only imagine how fresh and delicious this stuff was), and enlightened us about all sorts of various topics.

 

The first day, after dropping off our bags, we trudged back into town to buy food and wine, so that we could successfully hole up on the farm with everything we needed and not leave for a few days. The walk there and back was just too intimidating, and plus, this place was made for posting up, eating, reading, writing in our journals, and all that other good stuff. By the time we got back it was close to sunset, so we climbed up to the looked, settled into the hammok and rocking chair, and enjoyed one of the most fantastic sunsets of our lives. I know Im susing lots of superlatives here, and I know I have the bad habit of throwing those around, but seriously, I´m not exaggerating. We spend about and hour watching all the different clouds and colors, discussing what was going on where, which part looked like this or that animal, and just what a gorgeous show the sky put on for us. The blues, pinks, purples,and yellows, combined with the rolling greens of the mountains below... well, you get the picture. Afterwards we made ourselves a hearty dinner, feasted, read a little, and went to bed. Its amazing how tired you can feel after the sun goes down and there is literally nothing else to do but go to bed.

The next morning we woke up early, ready to go hike in the Valle de Cocora, but it was misty and rainy outside. So we decided that instead of going hiking, we would do absolutely nothing. It went really well! We straight chilled all day, cooked, ate, read, and playing with the farm pets - three huge, shaggy collies, and two wonderfully cuddly cats. The following day, the weather in the early morning was sunny and warm, so we headed to the main square to catch a jeep that would take us to the Valle. Cocora is a national park in the mountains that is home to the Wax Palm Cloud Forest, a totally unique place with these tall, skinny wax palms (the national tree of Colomiba) growing out of the side of the mountain. The jeep ride there was so awe-inspiring that by the time we got there we were giddy with excitement and vowed not only to hike the day away, but also to walk back to town instead of taking a jeep so that we could properly enjoy the scenery. We set off on the hike, a trail that was almost as chunky as the road to our farm, but also nestled in a deep valley with mountains looming up on either side, and cows on the other side of the fence, and these wax palms towering over us. Eventually we walked into the acutal forest, and followed the trail through thick threes and vines, and walked over streams along precariously positioned logs. The muddiness of the trail, combined with these rived crossings, meant that we were often on slippery ground and trying hard to keep our footing while also saying dry and upright. For the most part, we were successful, except for one minor incident in which I (Kat) straight up fell into the water. It wasn´t my fault! We were walking along a particulaty wet part of the trail, next to the stream, and I thought I was putting my foot down on solid ground, but it turns out that I was falling into the stream instead. Oops! After finding myself horizontal, wet, and bruised, I leapt up and immediately salvaged my camera. I was so worried about it breaking that I didn´t even notice my own condition until my camera was safely dry on a rock and I was sure it was still functional. At that point I noticed that my entire right side was soaked, I had a scratch on my arm, and Sophie was a couple of feet away dying of laughter. Great, success! We both howled for a few mintues, then after some minor adjustments we carried on, me on mich shakier legs from this point on, but thankfully managing to stay vertical for the rest of the hike.

After a couple of hours, and with absolutely no trail signs to let us know where we were or how much longer we had left to go, we decided to turn back for fear of being stranded on this mountain overnight. When we were about halfway back, the dark, ominuous sky opened up and unleashed a torrential downpour all over us. Yay! We had heard that it rained in the valley every afternoon, but for some odd reason we didn´t deem that a good enough reason to bring out rainjackets with us (who needs em, anyway?) so to say we got soaked would be a huge understatement. There was nothing we could do, so we carried on, through the mud and the rain, laughing and enjoying every minute. At one point we got to an especially deep rut in the trail, so we decided to walk along the edges, which rose much higher than the muddy rut and seemed to be the better way to go. I was on one side, and Soph was on the other. Eventually, her side tapered off to a very narrow stip of land, too narrow, in fact, to walk along successfully. She realized she was stranded when it was too late, the ravine was too deep (and way too muddy) for her to jump down into it. She wisely decided to use the fence to help helpself along the narrow part, but again, for a reason we will never know, this fence was made or barbed wire. I watched as she struggled with it, tried to find part that weren´t spiky to hold on to, and maneuver her body in a way that would get her through without getting stuck on the barbs. Within moments her shirt was caught on the wire in about ten places, her feet were splayed in an almost split, her arms were stretched out, and she was whimpering 'I´m going to fall in all this mud!' Needless to say, I was doubled over with laughter, but had enough wherewithall to take some incriminating pictures. I also couldnt do anything but watch, because I was on the other side of this ravine with no way of getting to her. Lucky me! After a few minutes she freed herself, and we pushed on through the rain. By the time we got back to the road, our dreams of walking back instead of taking a jeep were pretty irrelevant, for many reasons! So as usual, Sophisticated Koala vs. Mother Nature ends in an undisputed victory for the latter, and hilarious stories for the former. All is still right with the world.

We got back to the farm wet and happy, and immediatly took scalding hot showers (made availabe by the awesome solar heat system in place at the farm) and settled in for more relaxation. More food, reading, chilling, and another beautiful sunset, and we were asking ourselves whether we would ever be able to leave this place.

The following day we woke up early to work! Emma had told us that we could work in the morning, from 8-12, in exchange for a big free lunch. An unbeatable deal, especially since given the location and the nature of this farm, I would have worked for free. Forever. We were given two scrubby pieces of grain sack, and told to rub the moss of the coffee trees. Since it was an organic farm, this had to be done by hand, whereas on other farms they would have sprayed chemicals instead. After figuring out how to keep out footing on the insanely steep incline, we had a wonderful scrubbing away, with frequent pauses to rest and look out over the sweeping mountains. I´m surprised we got anything done, considering the fact that the view was indescribable, and we both caught outselves just staring out at it, wondering how the hell we wound up there, and taking in the meaning of what it was to be in such a place, at that very moment. At noon we were rewarded with an enormous lunch, and sat around the long table with the other workers stuffing out faces. After lunch, guess what we did? You got it, chilled out some more! After another afternoon of rest and relaxation, and an evening of dinner and good converstaion with the other people staying the farm, we went to bed feeling totally content.

We had put off making a decision on whether to stay or leave until the following morning. Although it was the kind of place I felt like I could live in, we both decided that if we didn´t leave then, we may never be able to do so. We both felt like we had gotten the most out of the experience, seen what there was to see, worked, and recharged our batteries. We also had the promise of working on another farm in our near future, so we figured that we may as well get there sooner and stay there longer. But Salento really dug deeply into both of our hearts. It was one of our highest points, it was the hardest to leave, and its definitely a place we both want to get back to sometime in the future. It definitely solidified Colombia as our favorite country thus far. We can only hope to have similar experiences in our future destinations!

Contented and feeling blessed,
Sophisticated Koala

Colombiana Moderna

After spending 4 nights in Baranquilla we were ready to continue exploring our new love, Colombia. Up until this point our greatest surprise here has been the people. So warm, so welcoming, and just so genuinely nice. Up in the Caribbean especially, it´s just so hot no one has any energy to be mean. The culture has so much life and heart and love that there´s little room for anger or negativity.

We took a short shuttle back to Cartagena to fetch the rest of our luggage that we had locked up happily at our hostel during Carnaval and caught a night bus to Medillin at 9:30pm. We were ready for the 13 hour journey south, bringing our sweatshirts and sleeping bags on the bus, learning from our previous mistakes. This is where money in Colombia comes in as the one downside. Things are more expensive here than in any other country we´ve been to. Buses especially. This bus cost us 108.000 COP, roughly 60 bucks! Huh?? But because Colombia is Colombia, and we seem to think they´re overcompensating for their reputation, they have tons of road checkpoints throughout the country, random bag checks and searches, and high security patrolling. And we are more than happy that they have this. However, it comes at a cost for locals and tourists alike. The bus was very comfortable, plenty of leg room, and not the artic cold that we were anticipating (although the AC was still blasting way more than it needed to be).

We arrived an hour early into the Medillin bus terminal, which was sleek and modern just like their Metro system. Beautiful, efficient, and oh so clean! It put the NYC subway to shame, we must admit. We opted to take the train to our hostel that was just a short walk from a major station in town. It took us no time at all to get comfortable on the metro, feeling right at home on mass transit. This is by far the biggest city we´ve been to yet. It´s enormous! Nestled in a large valley it spreads outward and up among rolling hills and mountains, home to more than 3.5 million people. It was exciting to be there.

We got to our hostel, the Black Sheep, New Zealand owned, in a well-to-do neighborhood that looked more like L.A. than Colombia. We settled into our dorm room and set out for the day. Our first stop was the Metro Cable system that is a free transfer from the Metro onto one of two cable lines that connect the distant barrios of the city with the center, an itiative from the Mayor to provide more opportunities to the people of these communities. They also provide the optimal views of the city from high atop the mountains, seeing just how vast the metropolis is.

We than decided to go to Museo de Antioquia located on Plaza de Botero. This is our first official visit to a legit art museum. So excited!! Botero is a famous Colombian artist who has donated hundreds of pieces of his work to the city to the point that they needed to open the museum to host his many works, in addition to a great variety and selection of others. We arrived just as the sky opened up to pour so we were happy to take shelter for a few hours. Botero´s style incorporates typical Colombian scenes with his asthetic of extremely rounded, exaggerated figures in paintings, sketches and sculptures.

After a few hours we decided we needed some street meat to tie us over until dinner. We had a nice little selection from a woman outside the train and then decided to head back to the hostel. We were so happy to have our first hot shower since Honduras!! We had forgotten what it was like, and how clean you can actually get with hot water. We had gotten so accustomed to not even asking that we were pleasantly surprised! We chilled at the hostel for a while, watched a movie, used internet, and then went for chicken burgers at a place close by. It was Wednesday night but we had heard the the Medillin night scene was good, not realizing that in pretty much every place this means only on weekends. We checked out Zona Rosa which was packed to the brim with bars and discos that we all totally empty! Not only that, but the beers that usually cost about 1.300 COP cost more than double that here. We walked around and made sure we weren´t missing anything not worth missing, and circled around back to the hostel where we were able to catch the end of Love Actually and drink an appropriately priced Aguila on the couch.

Some point during that night Sophie got 100.000 COP stolen out of her backpack. But these were nice hostel thieves, only taking the two 50.000 notes and leaving the 20s and 10s. This was the only time the money wasn´t in a locker, so lesson learned that didn´t need to be learned. Bummer for sure tho. The next morning after we realized this, we decided to just shake it off and be glad that´s the only thing and instance of theft we´ve experienced. We wanted to get down to Manizales that night, about 5 hours from Medillin, so we just took the metro and bus to a cemetary east of town. This is where Pablo Escobar is buried and we felt like being super tourists for just an hour. But we didn´t pay 40.000 to go on a tour like others usually do. We ventured on our own, hanging our heads down low when we had to admit where we were going and for what reason. But we had a nice stroll around the cemetary and saw the tomb of an extremely important cultural figure in not just Medillin, but Colombia.

Those flowers were already there, we weren´t paying tribute to the guy. We sat and wondered for a while if the reasons why Colombia´s economy is so strong and the people live so well could be attributed to Don Pablo.
We didn´t spend a whole lot of time in Medillin (2 days and one night), but we were more anxious to get down into Zona Cafetera than to stick around longer. We got a minivan from Medillin to Manizales. Little did we know the first 2 1/2 hours of the trip are on the most winding, curving roads, obviously cliff side, only exacerbated by a wild driver who took great pleasure in seeing our bobbling heads through the rear view mirror. Kat looked like a few shades of green and yellow during this time as she practiced lamaz breathing and moaning to keep herself from vomitting or screaming in agony. It didn´t help when we saw this either:

 They´re just chilling there!

But it did when we saw the scenery, so breathtaking, green and lush that the stomach pangs dissapated.

We arrived in Manizales in time to learn that the volcano en Nevado Del Ruiz was active and no one was permitted to hike it. You could take a hike around in the area and possibly get views of the volcano, but anything else was out of the question. Darn! We decided to think about what we wanted to do over dinner, knowing that we did have other options. We stumbled upon a place that served up cheap hot dogs and was blasting reggae as the young staff renovated the inside that they were turning into a cool lounge/bar. They were awesome, and hung out with us as we all talked about music and beautiful places that we needed to go to when in the area. Our conversation made us all break into hysterical laughter because of our great miscommunications, and attempts on either side to describe something in the other´s language. We realized that often we use the phrase "pequenos cosas" (small things) to refer to just about everything. Por exemplo, leaves (ojas) are "los pequenos cosas en los arboles", which when translated into English just sounds too funny. Also, we use the phrase, "Es possible" when asking for something or when we´re thinking about doing something. Por exemplo "Es possible hay mas salsa picante?" o "Es possible vamos a salir esta noche". We´ve come to really appreciate people who speak broken English because of how funny our Spanish sounds sometimes. Try describing who the smurfs are in Spanish! It´s fun!

Emma had given us a solid recommendation for a place she went to with a friend for a week nearby, called Salento. We had planned to go there either way, so we thought it´d be best to go a day early and really explore the area.