The coffee region and a little town called Salento in particular were getting great reviews from other travelers. So before heading up the Caribbean coast for the final stretch of the trip, me and the grumpy hanger-on went to Salento for a whistle-stop visit.
The region is indeed beautiful and Salento was a charming little colonial town. The mountain scenery was stunning, sun dappled, lush green, mountainous but not as monstrously high up and imposing as the La Paz and Cuzco. The kind of place were you can enjoy being in nature, tropical produce growing bountifully, wide open space, breath-taking views.
Upon arrival, it was difficult to find a hostel that was clean and open. We ended up arguing over where to stay, I wanted to check into a hippy hostel, install my hammock, cook and smoke weed with the Latin American traveler crowd. I didn't get my way, I even proposed we stay in different places, I needed to economise and my hippy place was half the price of his one. The frustrating burden of compromising with someone you barely know and don't really want to travel with. Not cool. I gave in, grudgingly and we installed ourselves for the night, the place was nice, with a panther-like pet cat and a sunken garden. But we showered and headed out straight away to find some dinner.
Fortunately we bumped into a relaxed Australian guy who had been in the hostel I stayed at in Bogota. We ate empanadas bought from a street vendor on the square and went to play a strange game involving sand pits and explosives. We united with a hoard of other backpackers, some of whom we had met in Cali and we all tried our hands at this game. You had to launch metal disks at triangular targets in the sand to set of a small explosion. We played or hours along side some locals, we paid nothing other than the price of our beers and the owners seemed happy to replenish the little triangular targets every time someone hit them and set off the explosion. I was surprised when I hit the target on almost my first attempt, but then sadly spent the rest of the evening failing to even toss the disk into the sand pit or anywhere near where it was supposed to go. It was as though there was a magnetic force-field whenever it was my turn, I tried to drink more Aguila beer to loosen up - a technique that can work when evenings turn into pool table drinking sessions. My attempt was in vain.
source:www.brandsoftheworld.com
We went to bed early to wake up early and get a 4x4 into the country nearby to do a small hike where the rubber palms grow, planning on coming back in the afternoon to visit one of the local coffee plantations. Devastatingly, we never made it to the coffee plantation. I wanted to meet a coffee grower in a hat and poncho with a donkey. Instead after taking a wrong turn we got stuck scaling the side of the mountain for 8 SOLID HOURS. My body was BROKEN afterwards. Our determined sports scientist Australian was not going to admit defeat and was leading us further into the wild, but having been told that the walk was an easy circuit that took 3-4 hours I was thinking we should have already reached the start/finish. Luckily we bumped into a local who was marching down the mountainside with several horses and asked him for directions. We were told that we were indeed lost and miles away from where we were supposed to be. Defeated we turned around.
source:www.pwp.etb.net.co
Thankfully the way back was mostly down hill, down a very muddy, slippery hill. We had no food, us since we hadn't planned on walking so long or working so hard. We were going to have lunch in the little village, breakfast had consisted of a coffee. A very good coffee, but not quite enough to sustain you through such a long and gruelling trek.
Admittedy, it was beautiful. Mountainside, riverside, we crossed over and walked along the stream at several points on bent over tree trunks and crumbling bridges. And for the entire journey we were accompanied by a friendly black dog, who we named 'dog'. I've done quite a few South American walks with random dogs.
When we finally made it back to the little village where we had started everywhere was shut so we couldn't even get water or a coffee for a quick pick me up and to rehydrate. The second problem was that the 4x4s which we had taken to get there were no longer in operation. Facing another long walk to get back to Salento, we tried to call a taxi but failed. Depressed and starving, we started dragging our weary feet along the tarmac. By the grace of God a kind Colombian family with a pick-up stopped and drove us into town. They dropped us off a block or two away from the center so the police didn't see. We stopped immediately at a little shop to buy empanadas and drinks. Empanadas feature quite heavily in my diet at the moment. With plenty of chili sauce. We ate the lot in a matter of seconds, we ate so quickly that we stopped at a second place to buy more before we hit the town center and sat down for some pizza.
We had to hurry to get the first of many buses on our mission bus journey all the way to Cartagena via Medellin. I was worried about the effect of the contrast of a day of hardcore hiking and a day spent sat on a bus would have on my confused body. I can be a fidgeter. Needing to fidget when you are stuck on a bus for 20+ hours is not fun.
It was so wistle-stop that I only had two cups of coffee in Salento but they were perfect and by FAR the best coffee I've had so far in Colombia.
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