I've had a whirlwind of a time since I got off the boat. In the last nine days, I've had two and a half days in Cartagena, a day in Taganga, five days on a trek to Ciudad Perdida, another night in Taganga, a flight to Medellin and a couple days in Medellin.
After arriving in Cartagena, our group from boat (minus Flower Britches, who had to get back to Chile) met up for dinner and a night out to say our goodbyes. It was a great night, but sad to say goodbye to our captains. They invited me back and I'm looking forward to another trip with them.
Cartagena is a big city along the northern coast of Colombia. In fact, the city's bay stretches for miles of shoreline. Cartagena has an old section of town that is surrounded by walls to fortify the city and protect it from pirates and others, complete with cannons and various armaments. The wall is impressive and circles the entire old portion of the city. The rest of the city is a typical urban center without luster or character. I didn't spend any time in the urban center and instead explored the old town for a couple days.
Perhaps the most interestingly strange thing I did in Cartagena -- well, actually, perhaps the most strange thing I've done in decades -- was take a mud bath in a volcano. Volcan de Lodo El Totumo is about an hour outside Cartagena. It's only about 50 feet high and filled with mud that I've heard is several thousand feet deep. Legend has it that the volcano used to spew fire and lava, but a priest, believing it was the work of the devil, sprinkled holy water into the volcano and it turned into mud. The mud is supposed to have healing properties. Maybe it's good for the skin. I don't really know, but it was an experience for sure! I climbed the steps to the top, a ladder into the core of the "volcano" and slipped into a thick mud. A local helped me to lay back and gently shoved me to the "massaging area," where another local gave me a pretty decent 10-minute massage for about $2. Another local guy remained at the top taking pictures with my camera for another $2. The mud is a funny thing. You can't really do anything except float. You don't sink and you don't need to tread water. You just stay wherever you are by some strange mud force. It was interesting, strange, and weird, but very worth the experience. After we climbed out, we walked barefoot to a nearby lagoon to wash off, wear local ladies aggressively try to assist you with the washing, which would be another $2. After some rather feeble attempts to say no thanks, I gave in and let a lady wash me off. She didn't just pour water over my head, she stripped me naked and washed my bathing suit as well. Fortunately I was under water and no one saw a thing!!
After Cartagena, I made my way to Taganga to meet up with the friends that had been waiting for me to arrive from Panama. Taganga is a beachfront town set on a horseshoe-shaped bay. There are few paved streets; most of the streets aren't fit for vehicles (although they manage to get all sorts of cars, vans, trucks and buses down those dirt roads filled with potholes and rocks). The beach is a combination of sand and rock and not very comfortable to sit on, but nice enough. I spent an afternoon in the sun with my friends and found a few of the people from our boat there. After some persistent urging, I decided that the toe I'd injured on the boat was fit enough for a trek to the Lost City, so we set off the next morning.
We signed up for a 5-day trek. Three days of hiking for about 4-5 hours a day and two days of 7-8 hours of hiking. Mules carried our food provisions and we each carried our own packs of clothes, toiletries, water and snacks. I don't really know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that! Halfway through the first day I felt like I wouldn't make it. The uphill portions weren't just uphill, they were STEEP -- about a 75 degree angle in clay, crushed limestone and dirt. The downhill portions were equally steep.
On day 1, we walked for about 4 hours. About a half hour or hour into the trek, we stopped for a dip in the river to cool off and then had to hike another few hours. This out of shape old lady had to take several more breaks than the average person, but I made it! When we reached our first camp, all I could think is, "I made it! OMG, I made it!" The view was stunning and worth every step! The camp was a covered, open-air structure with a kitchen (thankfully the tour operators took care of the cooking) and about 30 hammocks covered by individual mosquito nets. There were cold water showers, but I think we were all fine with that since we'd been sweating through the heat of the day. I was in my hammock and off to dreamland by about 8:30 p.m. That might be the earliest I've gone to bed in years. As a side note, I concluded that I am not very good at sleeping in hammocks -- I woke in the middle of the night with my feel in the air and my head somewhere in the middle of the hammock.
On day 2, we hiked for another 5 hours, uphill, downhill, over rocks, up rocks, down rocks, through mud and over streams. We saw amazing wildlife and fauna, spectacular vistas and waterfalls. Once again, at the end of the day, the pain and effort was worth it. The day-two camp had bunk beds with cozy mattresses and I slept like a baby.
On day 3, we hiked for another 4 hours. This portion of the trek was decidedly more difficult. We still had the steep ascents and descents, but we now added huge boulders, crazy tree roots and sheer rock faces. I twisted my left knee about halfway through the trek, which meant that I could step down with my left leg, but had to step up with my right. The footholds were almost always on the wrong side and my right knee had to compensate for the left. Result: two bum knees and a longer trek than the rest of the group. By the time I made it to the third camp, I was seriously beginning to doubt if I could make it to the Lost City the next morning because I knew that the trek to the city included 1,200 steps. My guide (who was awesome, by the way) gave me a knee brace to use the next day.
Day 4 started with a half hour of hiking along the river bank over rocks and boulders and along some very narrow paths about 10-25 feet above the river below. We reached the entrance to Ciudad Perdida (Lost City) and stared up at the 1,200 steps we had to climb to reach the city. To say that it seemed a daunting task for a girl with a couple bum knees is an understatement, but I climbed them anyway, taking my time to make sure that I didn't slip.
When we finished climbing the steps, beautiful rock walls and old houses opened up before us. They were all made in circles. What remains of the houses is only the outer walls and they are filled in with dirt and grass, but we could still see clearly where the houses were and the other buildings that comprised the city. Sadly, we also realized that there were more steps. Up, up, up we went to a phenomenal series of what can only be described as circle platforms. They used to be buildings apparently, just like the houses below, and served as the governmental and spiritual buildings of Ciudad Perdida. Conclusion: the Lost City is spectacular! It's difficult to put into words the magnificence of the place. High on the mountain top sits this old city, steeped in history, overlooking the mountains and valleys of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Trees seem to reach up out of nowhere and birds and other wildlife create a sort of hum among the otherwise complete silence.
After spending a few hours exploring the Lost City, we made our way back down to the camp for lunch. The group went one way and I went back down the original steps at perhaps the slowest pace ever. Luckily, I had the assistance of our cook and a local carpenter who said that he has to help people down from the Lost City about every other day. At least I'm not the only one who's needed assistance! After lunch, my guide helped me trek for the next 5 hours to our camp from night two (it took everyone else only about 3 hours, but my knees made my going rather slow).
On day 5, after much deliberation and discussions with the guide and my friends, I took a mule for the 7-8 hours of trekking back off the mountain. There was just no way my knees would make it. Two local Indian boys guided the mule and I listened to my iPod for the day. As it was, the mule wasn't the most comfortable ride, but better than trekking. But boy oh boy was that scary! The steep slopes, now turned into mud and wet clay from the rain of the last couple days, were slick and the mule slipped a number of times. It's an odd sensation to be staring straight down a slope on the back of a mule, holding on for dear life and praying that God gets you down the mountain in one piece. Fortunately, He answered my prayers and I survived the whole thing.
Back in Taganga, we dined with about half of the people from the trek and recounted stories of our adventure. The next morning, me and the two friends that had been waiting for me in Taganga flew to Medellin, which is somewhere in the middle of the country in the Andes foothills. It's eternal spring in Medellin and I welcomed the respite from the heat of the coast.
Medellin is a large metropolis, but it is an amazing city. It's set in a valley with the Andes surrounding the expansive city. The lush greenery indicates that this area sees more rain than the coast, but I still haven't seen any. The city is full of museums, statues, weird roads that dead end because of the highway that bisects the city, and street food. To describe it as anything less than bustling would be inaccurate. I walked around a plaza full of fat statues. Yes, fat. The people and animals are gordo for sure! I've also enjoyed a day in Medellin's botanical garden. Those two jaunts were too much for my knees though and I really need more rest. I really like it here and there's plenty to do. Now, if only my bum knees would heal, I'd be all set to explore.
