Colombia!

My last trip before the world unexpectedly withdrew her welcoming arms and shut down its borders in face of the menacing, global pandemic was thankfully to Colombia. And what an extraordinary nation she is! Think of Colombia and you may imagine a dangerous country fighting a longstanding civil war, pitting left-wing guerrillas against right-wing paramilitary groups. Or you might think of violent cocaine cartels battling it out with government troops in the cities and jungles. In fact, Colombia is emerging from its dark past and shining forth in new-found hope and confidence. While the country had just recently in 2017 signed a peace deal with the guerrilla group, FARC - safe, colourful, vibrant city streets are now filled with warm, welcoming people who are more then ready to turn the page from a danger-filled past and embrace a joyous celebration of renewed optimism.  Beautifully restored Spanish colonial cities, resurgence of Indigenous culture, lush jungles, stunning beaches, mountains, museums, art galleries, street festivals, a cool urban vibe, and of course the world's finest coffee - Colombia has awakened with love and passion!







Cartagena. Or to be precise - Cartagena de Indias was my first encounter with Colombia. It has to be one of Latin America's most beautiful cities. The architectural grandeur of the walled, Centro Histórico is unforgettable. Plain to see why the entire Old Town is a UNESCO World Heritage site.







Castillo de San Felipe de Brajas is considered the greatest fortress built by Spain in any of their colonies. Peering over the massive ramparts, I enjoyed the contrasting view of the modern city in the near distance.

The street art, especially in Getsemani - the funkier side of Cartagena - is exciting, varied and  impressive. We can see works protesting against gentrification of the artists' working class neighbourhood to murals celebrating the Nobel Prize winning Colombian writer, Gabriel García Márquez.        






Long after returning home, I am still reading his magical realism masterpiece, "One Hundred Years of Solitude". Given our ongoing, world-wide self-isolation to mitigate the spread of the coronavirus, my pre-departure choice in reading was prescient. No doubt, I will follow this up with Gabo's (as he is affectionately known in his home-country), equally appropriate, "Love in the Time of Cholera".



From Cartagena my route took me to the Guachaca region where Parque Nacional Natural Tayrona is located. As luck would have it, the park was closed to help promote environmental regeneration. Occasionally the traveler can find unexpected magic amidst such disappointments. In this case, serendipity proffered an extraordinary gift in place of Tayrona. The opportunity to meet with Indigenous people in the village of Perico Aguao in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, where the mountains meet the Caribbean Sea, and later hike in their sacred jungle will forever remain with me. I continue to wear the bracelet given to me by the shaman - as a souvenir of, but more importantly - as a treasured talisman to help ward off the coronavirus.

Barichara - literally, "place of relaxation" is - well, just that. This remarkably well-preserved colonial town with cobblestone streets, peaceful old churches, gorgeous, neon pink bougainvilleas flowing over golden sandstone houses is a delight. Shanti - the  funky, delicious vegetarian restaurant was my daily hangout. It reflects perfectly the artsy, counter-culture vibe that has added an extra lovely touch to the local ambience. Not to be missed is the 10 km hike out of town along the Camino Real to the tiny village of Guane. Charming cartoon-like colourful buses provide welcome transport back to Barichara's central plaza.

                                                                                      

Local unusual gastronomic treat? Pan-fried hormigas culonas. Otherwise known as, fat-bottomed ants! Yes, that's right - not only did I attend a cooking class - after all, she turned out to be a fellow psychologist - I ate some! We spoke of how the eating of ants can be seen as a way (for me) to break out of restrictive conceptual barriers. Anything to delay the inevitable! They came out of the freezer, which made the process somehow less intimidating. Heads and legs needed to be removed before being lightly fried in water with freshly squeezed lemon juice for a few moments. I told myself it was a vegetarian meal - sort of - and that delving deeply into local life is one measure of authentic travel. And in this day of world-wide diminishing resources - they are, after all, a tasty alternate source of protein.

Bogotá. The capital city is  - among many things - cold. The contrast is especially jarring if coming from the warm Caribbean or hot jungles. Situated at 2,640 meters above sea level, besides cool temperatures, you may also experience symptoms of soroche - altitude sickness.  It is a large, sprawling, vibrant city of some 7.4 million people, representing a wide socio-economic spread. The impoverished hillside barrio of Egipto is a ten minute walk from the elegant campus of a private university.    

Catching a ride in a taxi with a miniature cathedral on the front dash immediately removed any big city jitters I may have had upon arrival.

 

Egipto was once one of Bogotá's most violent neighbourhoods. Today, former gang members will take you on a fascinating tour of their gritty streets - still controlled by gangs and otherwise a no-go zone. Breaking Borders was started by Universidad Externado de Colombia and Impulse Travel to provide a new, gun and drug-free life for the inhabitants. I felt uneasy at the start of our walking tour. The peek into this often overlooked segment of the city turned out, however to be informative, meaningful and indeed very enjoyable.

Big. Exaggerated. Satirical. Whimsically fat. Colombia's most famous artist is Fernando Botero. Plaza de Bolivar in central Bogotá is where Museo Botero is located. His chubby, irreverent version of  Mona Lisa was among my favourite pieces.

Stunning pre-Hispanic, Indigenous creativity is beautifully displayed in the nearby Museo del Oro (Gold Museum). The exquisite detail of these masterpieces is breathtaking. While admiring these marvellous early works, my wonderment later switched to rage at the conquistadors  - who plundered the golden art while deepening the colonial subjugation and exploitation of Colombia's First People.

I ended my trip to Colombia in a cathedral. As a Catholic country, there are places of worship everywhere. Some churches are grand, ornate structures, whereas others are simple rural chapels. I often took time to slow my pace,  get away from crowds or the heat, and say a quiet prayer in sanctuaries throughout my journey. To spend contemplative time in places where countless devout people over the years - sometimes centuries - have been drawn to before me, always comforts and lifts my soul. The Salt Cathedral was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It is an underground, ethereal cathedral carved out of salt in the town of Zipaquirá - about fifty kilometers from Bogotá and easily accessed by local bus. 

In this dark, mysterious, cavernous place, I gave thanks to be able to spend time in Colombia, and promised myself that I will one day return to deepen my acquaintanceship with her.

In the meanwhile,  while the coronavirus pandemic continues to restrict further travel, I will read Colombian writer, Gabriel Garcia Márquez', other fittingly titled novel - "Love in the Time of Cholera".