Dude, Where’s My Bike?

In Bogotá, you won’t have to waste a moment of your time looking for where you parked your ride!

Bogotá, Colombia (Part Dos)

In order to make our newly acquired “work” start date in Ollantaytambo, Peru, we decided to save several days of busing across Colombia, Ecuador and Peru, as well as quite a bit of cash, and were instead able to find a flight with our ever-handy United frequent flier miles from Bogotá to Cusco. The flight would have cost about $600 each if it weren’t for our golden ‘tickets’, or maybe half that price with 60 or so hours of busing. Good find on the flight Ali. This meant traveling one last time through Bogotá, hence the title, “Bogotá Part Dos”.

While we loved Bogotá the first time and were not in the least bit displeased to have to repeat it for a two-day stint, we did not yet realize the incredible hospitality we were in for from our new acquaintances. We met Fernando and Angela, a young couple from Bogotá on a long-weekend vacation, while we were at our second hostel in Cartagena. We had some drinks with them in the hostel one night, and the next morning they told us to let them know if we made it back to Bogotá. We were pleasantly surprised when we did 2 weeks later.

When we showed up at the airport in Bogotá, sure enough, Fernando and Angela were waiting there for us. We squeezed our bags into their 2-door hatchback and headed for Fernando’s apartment. They had decided that they were going to properly show us around Bogotá, and we were all in.

Our generous hosts, Fernando y Angela.

We had booked a hostel for two nights, as we knew we had a flight on the 3rd morning, but what we failed to realize was that our flight was not around noon, like we had thought, but that it was actually at 5:30AM. Fortunately we caught this that first afternoon and were able to cancel our second night’s reservation. We booked our hostel based on the best deal; the one that came with a free dinner. If only we knew we’d spend the entire night introducing Fernando to Epic Rap Battles of History and drinking ron and cokes at his apartment in the heart of the city. Such are the woes of traveling. Back to day one.

We spent the afternoon walking around Bogotá with our new friends, which we had done a little of previously, but without any local knowledge or direction. They took us through the main strip, we had a big traditional lunch of Bandeja Paisa plus desert, took shots of tequila in one of the oldest underground bars in the city, shared bowls of chicha (old school brew) in a Japanese restaurant, tried every street food Fernando thought looked appealing, and then had a coffee at the famous Cafe San Moritz before heading back to his apartment. They gave us the royal tour. We had planned on watching a movie and heading back for our free hostel dinner, but after the rum and cokes started flowing, it was well after midnight before we stumbled out of a taxi and back into our hostel for the night. A night of YouTube and rum may not sound too Colombian, but we sure did enjoy it.

Bandeja Paisa. It tastes as good as it looks!

Enjoying Colombian chicha.

A beautiful church in the center of Bogotá.

The next day, after checking out of our hostel, we showed up at Fernando’s place about 45 minutes late for our last adventure in Colombia. He took us out of the city to a small town called Cajicá where they had the best, ‘meat’. He asked the bus driver (it was about a two-hour ride on two separate buses) which place to eat at, and we ended up at a tiny hole-in-the-wall butcher shop of a place. He told us we’d try tripe, and whatever else came with it. What we got was a heaping mound of liver, esophagus, beef, beef sausage, deep fried cow skin, and whatever else lurked below. The three of us ate about half of the plate before dumping the rest in a baggie to take home. We didn’t even come close to being able to kill it. Nothing like some left over ‘meat’ the morning after! This case of the meat sweats cost the three of us…$7.50 USD.

More meat than we could stomach.

So. Much. Meat.

We waddled to the town square and sat on a bench while our bodies attempted to digest the mound of meat we had consumed. We took it easy the rest of the afternoon as we had a 5AM flight the next morning, not to mention our VIP treatment/invitation to DJ Chiflamica’s fundraiser event kicking off that night.

Flores de Cajicá

Fernando is a well known DJ in the Balkan/Cumbian music scene. And he’s legit. We skipped the cover charge, got to hang out behind the turntables and had an f’ing blast. Ali’s stomach ache kept her from really showin’ off her moves on the dance floor, but we couldn’t have asked for a better last night. And to top it off Fernando rode with us to the airport to properly see us off. We can only hope we get the chance to repay the favor.  Nuestra casa es su casa, Fernando y Angela!

This made for an awkward bag check at the front door.

Hey, Mr. DJ – DJ Chiflamicas.

We planned on staying in Colombia for less than a week and ended up staying for over a month. Gracias por todo, Colombia. Hasta la proxima vez.

Ben y Ali

Tayrona Park, Colombia

All throughout Colombia, locals and foreigners alike told us we had to visit Tayrona. It’s a huge national park on the north-east coast, nearing the Venezuela border. It’s got a rather hefty entrance fee, especially for cheap backpackers like ourselves (about 20 USD per person, just shy our daily budget), but we found it well worth the price none-the-less. We planned on hiking in with our new traveling companions, Maarten and Sofie, spending the night in hammocks near the beach, and then hiking back out and returning to our hostel in Santa Marta which was holding the rest of our stuff for the following night. We had our one bag (which Ben’s shoulders later regretted) packed, expectations set, and laxatives flowing…we were ready for the trek (aside from dragging Marteen and Sofie to the grocery store on our way to the bus stop, because we like to procrastinate). If our clairvoyance would have only informed us to bring soap and more clothes for our one night to turn into three. That we’ll need to work on.

We’re on our way, but not before Ben gets shit on first.

Hiking in Tayrona Park with Maarten and Sofie.

Tayrona Park should with certainty be included on anyone’s itinerary visiting northern Colombia. It’s absolutely beautiful. We passed a handful of backpackers along the way, and the campsites housed plenty more, but we still felt the isolation and raw nature of the jungle while inside the park. We saw all sorts of insects, including a scorpion, ornate butterflies and moths, two still unidentified small mammal-ish looking creatures, hundreds of jungle crabs, and a wide variety of birds; though the one animal we wanted to encounter managed to stay clear of our path. Ali was even using her perfected monkey call, but maybe she forgot to translate it into Spanish…The hike took about five hours on the way in, which we later were told should have taken three (or one??), had we not taken a round-about way searching for the 12,000 Peso (6 USD) hammocks we had heard about, but the scenery and landscapes along the way were unreal. We walked through densely wooded jungles, over steep rocky inclines, across a few quite-nice jungle boardwalks, and popped out right on the beach. Not too bad for a half day hike. We did eventually find the cheap hammocks though. We set down our stuff, showered under the stars and then grabbed a beer to relax before bed (er hammock). What we were also not aware of was that the hammocks’ low prices may have been due to the fact that the fees were being split with the fleas that we shared them with. The bites weren’t terrible, but they left a nice little mark on Ali’s forehead, Ben’s nose and his feet still look a little gnarly. But knowing our luck a few dozen flea bites ain’t the worst that could have happened.

Bukaru, where you can get a hammock and flea bites for only 12 COP. What a steal!

Ben prior to realizing his hammock had fleas.

Bird rock.

A little improv rock climbing.

We made it…sort of.

The next morning we hung out at the scenic beaches along the coast, and while we had just decided on staying another night with Maarten and Sofie, we quickly threw a wrench in the plans and chose to head further along the coast in search of surf. We hiked out that afternoon, leaving Maarten and Sofie to fend off the fleas on their own, and somehow this time the hike took one hour…who knows.

A nice escape from the humid forest.

We caught the first passing bus another 7Km to Costeño Beach. We had heard there was a surf-hostel there that rented boards, hammocks, and beds, and that was exactly what we were hoping for. We got in just before dark, after running the last 200 meters to beat the downpour, and grabbed a beer and dinner before bed. Costeño Beach is just as much the hostel we stayed at as it is an actual area; in that there is really nothing else there besides the hostel. They’ve got an awesome little setup though, plenty of boards to rent, a really chill vibe, an essentially private beach, and two cool Canadian brothers to run it.

Keep walking and you will eventually get there.

Our first morning there we heard the unfortunate news that there would be no surf that day. While we had already extended our little trek one night, had no soap, and had already sweated through all of our clothes, we came for the chance to surf and decided to stick it out one more night on the word that waves were on the way. And we couldn’t have been happier that we did. Later that afternoon, Ali randomly asked a group walking out of the site where they were headed. “To Rancho Relaxo”, one of the guys said. Weird. But we went; and it was awesome. We hopped in a 84′ POS Land Cruiser with 9 other people and took off. One of the Canadian brothers decided within the past year to buy a plot of land a short drive from Costeño Beach, where he has since been growing all types of fruits and vegetables, raising chickens, and learning to live off the land. They’ve built a little housing area with four basic rooms, an extremely nice open-air kitchen, as well as an area to sleep backpackers in hammocks. They have an essentially self-sufficient, yup, ranch, on the hill-sides of the Colombian coast, complete with a private waterfall and all. They have just been officially accepted into the WOOFING community too, and would love for anyone looking to volunteer for room and board and live off the land to come and join them. We wish we would have heard word earlier and had a chance to volunteer for a few days. Collum toured us around the ranch, telling us about as well as feeding us all of the fruits and vegetables he was growing, explained the challenges they had with different aspects, and ended it with a cold beer and a climb up their waterfall to the view of the coast. While the cruiser ran out of gas twice one our return trip, we made it back in time for dinner, and can add one more successful unexpected adventure to our list.

This land cruiser looks newer than it really is.

Ben enjoys fresh beans from the garden.

The waterfall at Rancho Relaxo.

Literally coasting back to Costeño Beach with our new friends…and a pineapple.

The perfect ending to a great day.

That next morning, which was our last as we were flying back to Bogota the next day, Ben woke up early to grab a board and was the first one out. The waves weren’t spectacular, and we had actually been told us it was the worst they’d been in quite a while, but they were good enough to catch some decent rides, and 8-10 others had paddled out by 10 that morning. By the time the winds picked up and turned the clean waves into annoying chop we had to checkout and be on our way. We were more than happy to arrive back to Hostal Candela y Chocolate, our at the time home away from home.  We were even happier to find that Maarten and Sophie had left us a bag of goodies, as they were just finishing off their 12-month adventure around the world. The bag of smelly clothes could not have come at a more perfect time, and we have since been wearing their clothes, after washing them of course. This longsleeve is quite comfy Maarten. Congrats to you both and thanks again!

Paddling out.

Costeño Beach.

Thanks Sofie and Maarten for the hand me downs!

It was a long “one night” trip, but we had a great time in Tayrona, climbed a waterfall in the coastal forested hills, and even caught some waves.

Not too shabby.

Santa Marta, Colombia

We arrived to the oldest city in Colombia, Santa Marta, after a scenic 4-hour bus ride down the Caribbean coastline; however, we spent most of our time in the area outside of Santa Marta exploring the surrounding areas that offer tourists a wider variety of outdoor activities (our favorite!).

For those of you who know Ali, it is no secret that she loves the water and so it should not surprise you that she convinced Ben to get his Open Water scuba certification the second we arrived. Fortunately for Ben (and our budget), Colombia is known for decent diving at a very affordable price, and is currently one of the cheapest places to get certified in the world.

Despite there being many companies to choose from, we decided to go with Oceano Scuba and we were glad that we did! The staff were fun and professional, and they offer free accommodation for divers at their cliff-side cabana. And when we say “cabana”, we really mean a small hut with hammocks, no running water or electricity and nowhere to go unless you decide you’re up for a 3 mile swim.

La Cabana.

 Since the cabana is only accessible by boat, Ali was dropped off at 9 a.m. when the dives started, was re-joined by the group for lunch at the cabana, and then waited until Ben completed his second day of the  course which was around 3 p.m. It did not take Ali long to become restless and decide to explore the area; and while she thought about climbing UP the cliff, she used her better judgement and decided against it. “How horrible would that be if I got injured, all alone with no one around?”, she thought. Timed selfie photos with a rustic cabana backdrop would just have to do!

 The photo below was taken just moments before Ali decided to make a few giant leaps into the air, causing her to slip on a large rock and roll her left ankle into a very uncomfortable and painful position. This photo was also taken about 3 hours before Ben was expected to return home from his second dive of the day and gave Ali a lot of time to think…about how she should have climbed that damned cliff after all! : )

Add one more tally to Ali’s injury list, thanks to an awesomely timed selfie.

Rubber bands and a bag of drinking water to reduce the swelling!

We spent the rest of that afternoon and night at the isolated cabana snorkeling, cliff jumping, reading and gazing at the stars before calling it a night.

Just hanging out at the cabana.

One of the coolest sunsets we’ve ever seen!

Ben gets some serious air while jumping off the cliff.

The next morning we were picked up by the boat to go diving and were happy to find that our friend from Belgium whom we met in Medellin, Maarten, had decided to join us for the day. The three of us enjoyed a great day of diving, with lots of colorful coral and plenty of fish to keep us entertained. After Ben completed his final exams and was officially Open Water certified, we went out for a celebratory beer with his instructor while we waited for our ride back to town.

Underwater salsa lesson.

Ben and Maarten after our first dive of the day.

Ben picks up trash on the beach between dives.

Benali goes scuba diving.

An electrifying view.

That night we packed up one shared bag for a two-day/one-night (or again, so we thought) excursion to a large national park on the coast. Maarten and his girlfriend Sophie would again be joining us. That night Ben also drank a little bottle of medicine known to help “move things along”, but we won’t get into that one…

Ben looking scared shitless.

Tyrona Park he we come!

Cartagena, Colombia

No Viajo por Llegar, Viajo por Ir

The third destination on our trip through Colombia was the coastal city of Cartagena. We had decided against many a suggestion but to our wallet’s benefit to take the 13-hour bus ride instead of the one-hour flight. The 12 extra hours would save us $8, at the minimum. As it turned out, the 13-hour expectation was also…at the minimum. A loonngg 26 hours after leaving Medellin, we arrived safe and sound in Cartagena. The strikes and protests that some of you may or may not have heard about are happening, and while they were good about keeping our buses away from the “danger zones” (we may or may not have been struck by a boulder-ish object, and 4 cars were apparently burned that night), it did still double our trip time. You can find more on the story here, but to sum it up the local farmers are hurting due to the free trade agreements with U.S. and European nations, as they cannot compete at the same prices, and are seeking support. We didn’t make it two hours before we pulled over to the side of the road at the first strike point, and stayed put while sleeping for the following six. This happened again after a 2-hour drive the next morning, though our second stop wasn’t quite as comfortable, as we sat on the side of the road in what had to have been mid-90’s humid summer heat for seven hours at a country-side pit stop. We did save our $8 though.

Our exciting life on the road.

We really should have brought a deck of cards or something!

We’ve decided Cartagena is a pretty cool city, though not literally, as it is honestly one of the hottest and most humid places we’ve ever been. Our first hostel of two was in an area called Getsemani, which is just outside of the old walled city.

A necessity in Cartegena as we quickly found out.

The entrance to the old city in Cartagena.

These old city walls were constructed in the 17th and 18th centuries, and were just in the last decade added to the list of UNESCO World Heritage sites. And as Wikipedia just informed us, between 1751 and 1810 some 20+ million Spanish reales, the equivalent of approximately 2 trillion USD today, were invested in the city’s protection. So it was apparently a pretty big deal back in the day. Or  so Spain thought? Maybe it had something to do with the double-moon phenomenon that scientists are still incapable of explaining. As seen below, on one night each August, the tilt of the Earth and the relative positioning of the Earth, its Moon and the Sun cause the in-explainable illusion of there actually being two moons.

Look! Two moons.

We happened to catch Ben’s friend Amy Wharton (who you’ll hear more about later as she hooked us up with the sweet gig in beautiful Ollantaytambo, Peru) in Getsemani, and the three of us spent the day riding beach-cruisers around the area and through the walled city. That was until Ben’s bike crapped out on him, and he had to half walk, half drag it back. Turns out Ben’s old bike, which started out with a more than noticeable limp, was popping spokes like Lil’ Wayne pops bottles, and his tire’s limp quickly turned into a floppy rooster. He was grumpy. But we made it back, drenched in sweat, and walked back out a short distance to grab an already validated cheap delicious lunch, with some fresh local fruit juices. That night we hung around the scenic city walls, and grabbed some pizzas in the rather upscale area. The next morning Amy took off for the last stop of her South American journey as we moved on to our second hostel in Cartagena.

Ali learned it’s not easy taking photos while riding a bike.

Exploring the old city with Amy.

Enjoying a quiet little beach just outside the walled city.

Ben makes biking to the beach look good!

This second spot was in Castillo Grande, in hostel-owner Jose’s family apartment turned hostel.  As he informed us, each residential area in Colombia has an assigned classification, based on how expensive the property and surrounding area is, and his apartment/hostel happened to be in the 6th (which apparently is the most expensive despite the  $9 USD we were paying per night).  So we were in a much nicer and safer area than we had typically been used to. We were surrounded by high-end sky-rise apartments and condos, and were a quick 10-minute walk to Cartagena’s most popular beaches.

A van we found on our walk back from the beach. It roughly translates to “Life is a journey, not a destination.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

It was a different feel there, and not really what we were looking for, but it was clean and quiet, and Jose was very friendly. We met a cool young couple from Bogota who has since offered to show us the local side of their capital city, as well as made friends with 2 English speaking blokes from the other side of the Atlantic. They tipped us off on the “Volcan de Lodo El Totumo” aka the Mud Volcano, which turned out to be one of the weirdest most unique experiences we’ve had yet.

The mud volcano aka ant hill.

Ben does not look amused.

Mud monsters!

Next stop: Santa Marta, where we’ve heard there is not much else to do besides hike in Tayrona park or spend time at the beach. Sounds like our kind of place!

Hasta la proxima!