From Santa Marta to San Gil

Chicamocha National Park

We finally got the show on the road on Sunday, September 28, Luc on the bike and me behind the wheel of the van.  Our first stop was Aracataca, known as the magical town of Macondo in Gabriel Garcia Marquez' One Hundred Years of Solitude.  Asking for directions to a hostel we had read about in the guide book, we were directed instead to the museum that is the former home of the writer.  We parked and I set off with my guidebook to track down the hostel while Luc settled in to a comfortable visit in the shade with the Mejio Rodriguez family, whose home is right next to the museum. I returned an hour later with the news that the hostel had closed a few months before.  By then, Luc had fully been taken in by this lovely family. We spent the rest of the afternoon on their front porch, got a guided tour of the museum, then pulled the van and motorcycle into their courtyard for the night.  We had a lovely dinner with Caridad and her friend Paulita at a restaurant called El Patio Magico de Gabo y Leo Matiz.  Everyone in this town has stories to tell and photos to share about Garcia Marquez who died earlier this year.  

with the Mejio Rodrieguez family

El Patio Magico con Paulita

Caridad

But for me the most magical part of our stay in Aracataca was discovering for the first time the depth of pride Colombians have of their beautiful country and their willingness to share their hearts and (literally) their homes with perfect strangers.  This family, like so many Colombian families, houses several generations and businesses under one roof.  Marlon, a former aircraft technician and his sister Caridad live with their 94 year old mother and several other members of their extended family.  Their sister Matilde, who lives a few blocks away, runs a school for 85 children in the back of the house where they have built classrooms.  We parked in the courtyard that is also the playground 6 days a week.

Marlon on the bike

From Aracataca our goal was to rendezvous with our friend Fiona near Bucaramanga in the Santander.  Fiona is the English woman we met in Cartagena who is riding her bicycle alone around Colombia.  Her friend Steve, an Ecuadorian born and raised in NYC, had just flown in from Lima where he had been trekking.  But first, we had a few chores to do:  empty the van's black and grey water, and find way to refill our propane tank so we could continue running our fridge and stove top.  Each of these ended up being a half day project. 

We stopped at a truck/bus stop (more on truck stops in a minute) and found some truckers who we thought might have some suggestions about how to accomplish our chores.  One man, David, took us in.  He had Luc move the motorcycle to a safe place where someone would keep an eye on it, then hopped in the van with us for the sewage and propane tour of Aquachica.  After a few stops, he was behind the wheel of the van and tooting his horn at his friends as we drove by.  The director of the Aguachica port-o-let business arranged for a truck to return to the office and we were soon emptying our tank.

with David and another friend

The next day outside of Bucaramanga, we found one of the propane company David had directed us to.   Unauthorized vehicles are not allowed on the grounds of a gas company, but they pulled a gas truck up to our van just outside the gate and, after security checks gave us a fill-up.

We had left the Sierra Nevada mountains of northern Colombia and by now twisting up and down the significantly more serious curves of the northern Andes.  In Colombia, there are three separate, parallel Andean chains, the Codillera Occidental, Central and Oriental.  Colombia is currently making an incredible investment in its infrastructure, and roads are under construction everywhere.  Nonetheless, we were often traveling app-gap style roads for hours at a time on the major truck route from Cartagena to Bogata.  Having adapted the local driving style, I am now able to pass multiple semi trucks at a time of curves.  Eek.

Along the way, we spent several nights in Colombia truck stops called Hospedaje.  There is usually a good restaurant, run by one part of an extended family.  Another part of the family will rent a row of small clean rooms with simple beds and a bathroom with cold water, the Hospedaje.  A third part of the business is a round-the-clock truck washing and oil-changing business.  Trucks and cars here are immaculate here, putting our van and trailer to shame.  

Between tours of our casa-movile and the chance to be photographed sitting on Luc's mega-motorcycle, we feel like we have a little something to offer all of the people who have been so open and generous with us.  It is also a great way for us to practice our Spanish, which is relatively good at this point as long as we stay within the limited spheres of food, where to sleep, how many cc's is the bike, how much things cost (from breakfast to the van).

The chief of police in Pailitas 

Fiona and Steve

We connected with Steve and Fiona in Giron, where Luc found the cobblestones more than challenging.  We headed from there to San Gil, well known as the adventure sports capital of Colombia.  First we passed through one of many astounding National Parks, the park of Chicamocha, where we rode a gondola down the valley and up the other side.  The gondola inexplicably shut down for 2 hours while we were on the other side, so at 6 PM we were in the dark on a winding steep road in 3k per hour truck traffic.  Fiona suggested spending the night an a Hospedaje, and one magically appeared within minutes.

Giron

 At this point I was on my 4th day of a strict imodium and gatorade diet, so I was happy to pull into the Campestre San Marco in San Gil the next day with its beautiful pool (read: lounge chairs) and gallery of parrots saying "hola, hola".  I did manage a hike to the beautiful Cascades de Juan Curi, where Fiona even took a swim!  

Campestre San Marco

Cascadas de Juan Curi

It was great to reconnect with our friends and to experience a bit more of Colombia without the barrier of the windshield.  Steve and Fiona headed off to colonial Barichara and Luc hooked up the trailer to save me the two day mountain drive to Cali where I have reconnected with Ana Maria Casasfranco, who lived with my family as an exchange student in 1979, and her wonderful family.  But that is the next installment.