Puerto Lopez

(DAY236 : Salinas - Puerto Lopez : 85 miles)
(DAY237 - 238 : Puerto Lopez)


The potholed Ruta del Sol was mostly a demonstration of Ecuador's poverty.





People are as sweet as ever. The fish looked good as well.

Had I not heard how wonderful Montanita is, perhaps I wouldn't have been disappointed. Imagine a tsunami struck village with only the cafe-bars restored, then fill those with tourists. But hey, it's a surfer hangout, so maybe it's the waves. In any case, I didn't feel the need to turn the ignition off.


A Montanita street.


The same street seen from the other side.

Puerto Lopez continued the poverty struck coast line theme without the weird contrast of Montanita. It was ugly enough that I wanted to continue. But (luckily), Katirga was already slurping from reserve, and the town was out of gas. "Tomorrow at noon" said the pump guy. Fine, we'll stay.

Many of the hotels were full. I got myself into a small $8 room and hoped for a sunny whale watching trip the next day. Instead, I got rain watching. I did try to use it productively by editing etc, but when I went out for lunch I ran into Mark, a traveler I had met all the way back in Chugchilan. It's completely his fault that the rest of the day went by drinking and laughing our heads off to stuff I don't even remember. It took a rainy-day-turned-fun to reveal my naivete at the Museo Solar Inti Nan (see: Mitad del Mundo).


Puerto Lopez.


The prettiest building in Puerto Lopez is a juice stand.


Yet to have one sunny day in Ecuador.

The two girls trying to sell me a whale watching tour would tell me anything to make it happen. The next day I did sign up with them as they had already come down from $25 to $18, and the sun clearly wasn't interested in showing up anyway. But as I was getting ready, the receptionist lady showed up to say that I had to leave because the room was booked to a group and she had already told me that. Deja vu! This was the second time a hotel would make me commit to two days minimum, then kick me out after the second once they've hooked a large group and needed rooms. But this time I knew what was and was not said very well. When she said they would remove my belongings from the room, I almost lost it. Only then, "you have to leave" became "please help me", and that became "ok, ok".

The boat, of course, was nothing like promised and we all took a good shower while looking for the whales. But ultimately, none of it mattered. When the whales not only showed up but also started showing off, the day turned into one of the best of my trip. I had my camera housing with me, but (understandably) they wouldn't give me a snorkel kit and let me in. That, would have made it the best day hands down. These must be the most gentle creatures on earth.







The receptionist woman apologized when I checked out, but...

We got Katirga some gas and left it all behind. One day I hope to swim with the whales.

Salinas

(DAY235 : Banos - Salinas : 300 miles)


After riding the road to Riobamba for the last time, we continued towards Guayaguil. I was certain that the road would remain equally smooth, and was terribly mistaken. Eighty miles of curves made solely of potholes is what you have to cross first on the way to Ecuador's biggest city. After that, you have a road to roll on.


The bridge to Guayaguil.

I spent an hour and a half riding around in Guayaguil, trying to find something worth seeing. All I found was chaos and traffic, and only leaving the place felt pleasant.

The road from the big bad city to Salinas was a pedal to the metal affair, and got us there in just an hour. When we pulled up to enjoy the view of the beach, it was seven o'clock; a total of eight hours after leaving Banos.



On the beach side and after dusk, Salinas almost looks like a high end summer destination. The illusion doesn't last for more than a block inward, but the hotels do seem to believe that they are located in Acapulco. After quite a few ridiculous quotes for dump category rooms, Hotel Marvento (Calle Guayas y Quil., Avenida Gral Enriquez Gallo , Tel: 593 42770975, info@hotelmarvento.com) seemed like a bargain. I checked in to a very decent room for $20 including breakfast. It's a fairly new building with parking and also provides internet access.

No later than a quick shower, I was having a stroll on the beach with a surprising amount of happiness. How I had missed being on the coast! The gentle sea breeze smelled beautiful, and the temperature was perfect. The reflections on the calm water were accompanied by the muted splashes of tiny waves. More importantly, I was intensely aware of them all. I wouldn't be, if I hadn't been away so long.

Then I smelled something else... Street vendors! Time for a chela and roadside barbeque :)

Waking up to yet another cloudy morning, I decided to hit the road and postpone whale watching to Puerto Lopez. Following the coast up north should have been a rather simple task, but following the Ecuadorian signs to Ruta del Sol (Route of the Sun) somehow took me to a private parking lot. Shocker.

As I was maneuvering to exit the gravel lot, I met a young woman and her father, who turned out to be the owner of the property. Following our brief chat, I found myself accepting their kind invitation for a drink although I had left Salinas barely ten minutes ago. What I had assumed to be a fancy beach side restaurant was also a guest house with a twist. In fact, it was the prettiest place I had seen in Ecuador. If you are travelling as a couple, you should check out the rooms on the light tower, or at least try the ceviche while enjoying the panoramic view from the terrace.



Hosteria Farallon Dion. (Peninsula de Sta. Elena, Lomas de Ballenita , Tel: 098241768 , www.farallondion.com)

Banos

(DAY232 : Rio Bamba - Banos : 60 miles)
(DAY233 - 234 : Banos)



Volcan Tungurahua was busy spewing smoke as we approached Banos.

A short and familiar ride later we were in Banos. Actually, at first we zoomed past Banos, then turned around and fished it out. It's that small. I checked in to a nice and quiet hotel for $12, then went exploring the town.







Pork skins anyone?


Or would you prefer a juicy guinea pig?

Banos is a popular touristic spot because it offers a wide range of activities and pretty sights. ATV rentals, horseback riding, biking, hiking, climbing, rafting, bungee jumping, lava sightings, hot springs, waterfalls... Now that I put it like that, I wonder why I didn't care much for Banos. For me, the town, the food, the nightlife, and the overall ambiance had nothing to offer. As for the activities, some more sun could have been motivating.

After my second night at the hotel, I got kicked out. The receptionist told me that all rooms were pre-booked, and insisted she had told me that in advance. With my half-ass spanish and 64K memory, I couldn't trust myself more than her word. Unaware that this was a trick I would encounter again later, I said "mi culpa" and packed up. But when two nights of $12 stays added up to $34, I had a few things to say. Ultimately, I left for my trip to Puyo delayed and fully loaded.

The ride along the river was accompanied by nice views and involved showering in several leaky tunnels for authenticity. Just before Puyo, it also offered an impressive glimpse of the jungle as it descended toward the upper Amazon basin.


Simple "teleferico"s carry people to the other side providing a closer look at the numerous waterfalls along the river.


Bungee jumping remains popular.


Some restaurants may over-assure you about freshness of their meat.


The road mimicks the river most of the way...


Then shows you the jungle.


The river on its way to the Amazon.

Puyo is a small town at the edge of the jungle with little to do at. But there I met Miguel, and he took out his shiny Africa-Twin to guide me around. A military cargo pilot and a really nice guy, he not only showed me around town, but got me into a really cool park within the military base. I even got to see a free roaming anteater!

The quick ride back to Banos took an hour and ended up in a better hotel at the same price. I went to bed thinking I'd go rafting if I woke up to a sunny day. I didn't.

Riobamba

(DAY231 : Chugchilan - Riobamba : 125 miles)


After finally seeing the lake under sun light, we took another sprint and were filling up in Latacunga by 3pm. We could still make a dash to Riobamba and catch the guide-book-must-do Friday train next morning, then backtrack to Banos for the weekend drinks. Another perfect plan drafted on the fly.

We arrived at Riobamba sometime after 5 pm, but the train station was still open so I walked in to get the bad news and a bus ticket. There had been a land slide. I would have to take a two hour bus ride to Alausi and board the train there. I didn't even know what I was signing for exactly, but the model steam train at the office looked promising.

The $15 windowless hotel room did the trick, and I was on the bus at 6am the next morning. After two hours of loud Ballenato, Cumbia, Reggaeton, and everything in between, I was thrilled to finally be in Alausi, and rushed straight to the train station. Then, I found myself getting on another bus!

There is no train. "The spectacular train ride to Sibambe" refers to an old bus on rails! Grrrrr, that sodding schmonely planet!


"It's a train! It's a bus! No, it's..." What the heck is it?

As for the recommended roof ride. Well, a bus has a much smaller roof, and space for only two up front. So I was happy to be the second person up there. But then, the first person told the second: "Sorry man, I promised to hold that space for a girl, she went to get coffee." I still wonder if it was too harsh a response to throw him overboard.

The thingy did take us for a one hour, somewhat fun ride. But honestly, it was rubbish compared to our rides with Katirga. I'd say stick to your wheels and leave this one to the backpacking, space-holding crowd.




Done with the ride, I had to endure another (real) bus trip, then packed up and headed back north to Banos.

Chugchilan

(DAY230 : Latacunga - Chugchilan : 60 miles)


Pujili high street.

After a few wrong turns and road side chats, I found the road heading to Pujili which continues in paved fashion all the way to the highlight of the trip: The Quilotoa crater lake. It was a 45 mile ride, mostly amidst lively greens of the paramo sparsely dotted by the bright pink and red clothing of the indigenous women, and occasionally interrupted by a zoo in leisurely transit. As we climbed above 3000 meters, the temperature dropped to 8°C, but the old man and his grand(grand?)son didn't seem to feel it while herding their animalitos. Their horses, cows, sheep, goats, pigs, llamas, and dogs kept moving down the steep hill while they took a moment for a friendly chat with a stranger in strange clothing on a motorcycle. I wondered whether it might be considered strange that they had never seen the lake only 20 miles away. Some find contentment in a life lived on one hill, while others have to seek it a lifetime around the world.

La laguna Quilotoa is as magical as advertised. But the sky was like a fine print, dull and gray, almost ruining everything.

The road continued to the tiny village of Chugchilan after shedding its smooth crust. I guess it would be called a dirt road even though it often had more sand than dirt. Before I could cover a third of the 10 miles to Chughilan, I got buried in fog. The remaining miles weren't fun. Especially when the road pulled a disappearing act. Oh, and also that time when I found myself flat-tracking with a 290kg KLR. I actually was in the process of falling, but I'm sure it looked very cool, going sideways and all. Too bad there was no one to see it. Especially because I somehow didn't complete the process and remained upright.


It was beautiful. Just not very visible.

Hostal Cloud Forest resembles a misplaced ski lodge. It has very basic rooms for $12, and those may actually be considered the lap of luxury up at Chugchilan.

The night at the lodge was different and fun. We were gathered in the communal room with the antiquated heater, taking refuge from the cold. Later, but not long after the first round of beers, we were gathered outside taking refuge from the over achieving heater! With red ears, we even got to watch a dance show by the local children.


Night at the lodge.

The plan for the next day was to continue to Saquisili and see its Thursday market in action. This would also complete a loop to Latacunga. But in the morning I was told that by the time I made it to Saquisili, the market would be over. So much for good planning.

It was a beautiful morning with clear skies. I rode towards Saquisili for about 15 miles with gorgeous views, but all the while thinking this would be the time to see Quilotoa.






When I came across a deep mud pit, I got my excuse to turn around and go back to Quilotoa. I rode it like I stole it, and averaged 25 mph!


Now that I could see, I could see why I had lost the road yesterday: It merges with a river bed!

I was at the crater again in about an hour, but the clouds had already rolled in. Still, it was much better than yesterday.


Quilotoa crater lake (& hinnies to take you down there)



The local folk are wonderful.


Zumbahua has a selection of fine outdoor restaurants.


Chef told me what it was called but I forgot. Pan algo.


Just chillin'.

Latacunga

(DAY228 : Quito - Latacunga : 110 miles)
(DAY229 : Latacunga)


The ride to Latacunga was, err, too long ago to remember, but I'm sure it was great. As for little Latacunga, well, there at least was beer, coffee (sort of), and even internet cafes. But the importance of the place is its proximity to Cotopaxi mountain and the Quilotoa lake. I checked into Hotel Central for a $10 stinky room, with a plan to hit Cotopaxi as early as I could.

Getting to Cotopaxi meant backtracking about 30 miles, then taking the park's dirt road for several miles more. Past the dirt, the mud, the sand, and the creek, we ended up in front of the park entrance, ready to pay the $10 entrance fee. But no, Katirga wasn't allowed in. (no motorcycles, by the order of blahblah ministry) When even the bribery attempts failed, there was nothing to do but to forget it. Sure, I could hire one of the guide/truck combos, but if she wasn't going, I wasn't going either. Not to mention the additional 30 bucks a truck would cost. Oh well, the weather sucked anyway.

So was wasted a day in Latacunga, unless you don't count maintaining journals a waste of time.

(A better, slightly more expensive accomodation option is Hotel Rodelu. Calle Quito 1631 y Padre Salcedo. Tel: 03 2800956, www.rodelu.com.ec)

[ Middle of the Earth ]

(A mini detour)

Before heading south to Latacunga, I first had to back track to the O° latitude and see if the myth about the toilet flush direction had any merit.

Either Ecuador has the worst signage I have so far seen, or I have completely lost my navigation skills. When there are signs, they are so haphazard and confusing that you wonder whether if they exist just to mess with your head. How does a "So-and-so (straight arrow)" sign help me when it's followed by an even split, or a roundabout that has no straight continuation? But the more common placement is, long AFTER you've made your random selection at the cross-roads.

After many wrong turns, road side chats, and an involuntary visit to yabadabadoo village, we made it to Mitad del Mundo (middle of the world), and rode all the way up to the symbolic (& incorrectly placed) middle point for the obligatory "look ma" picture.



Then it was time to visit the toilet, or to be more precise, the hydro-dynamics experiment at the Museo Solar Inti Nan. Past the somewhat interesting replica of an ancient indigenous tomb, etc., I was standing over the allegedly GPS-calculated celestial equator, ready to see how a sink full of water would drain on and at either side of the line. (I couldn't disagree that using a sink was more appropriate than a toilet bowl) With the rest of the tourist pack from all around the globe, I ooh'd and aah'd as the water spiraled down in different directions at either side of the line, and poured down straight when right on it. Wow! Even when so close to the equator line! How incredible!

I didn't actually see the experiment with my own eyes as I was recording it all on video, and watched it live through the little Leica's screen. But questioning a simple demonstration at a museum hadn't crossed my mind anyway. It was truly unbelievable, and I had it on video!

Or so I thought. Press to record, press again to pause. Get really excited and it also works to record people's feet, then to watch the action through the screen while it's on pause. Excellent.

The following "experiments" were far from being meaningful, and silly at best. Still, we all took their word for the point they were trying to make. As an example, balancing an egg on its butt doesn't prove that it can only be done at the equator.

But the punch line came several days later, in Puerto Lopez. Mark dropped it on me casually, and I felt dumber than ever. I was made a complete fool of at a cheap clown show, and not being alone didn't help one bit. To get the facts about the Coriolis effect, see Wikipedia, etc.


Keep smiling. Chances are the coordinates are fake too.

In their defense, the museum(!) had some other things (perhaps even real) to see, and was kind of fun.

Until only 50 years ago, the indigenous here had been "shrinking heads", and I got the skinny for you...

Below: the step-by-step instructions for preserving the spirit (& head!) of your loved one.





The desired result

If yours doesn't look like the example above don't be discouraged. Practice makes perfect.

Quito

(DAY225 : Ipiales - Quito : 180 miles)
(DAY226 - 227 : Quito)


The cathedral detour had cost me around three hours, so I wasn't at the border until noon. The border was wide open but freely riding into Ecuador didn't mean I should just keep riding as some paperwork might come in handy later on. On the other hand, maybe I just should have. There were only a handful of people in line, but the "system" was down at the Colombian immigration office. Gotta love the system. Eventually, this border too was crossed, and I was back on the road by 3:30pm. The late start in Ecuador meant I wouldn't see Quito before dark.

Entering Ecuador was a bit like going back to lesser parts of Central America. Poor in finances, aesthetics, and cleanliness. A precious land made less beautiful with each human touch.

The road to Quito was fast and smooth, and provided some spectacular views around Cotacachi as the descending sun masterfully illuminated the volcan and the lake. We hit Quito's traffic by 6:40pm, and were in some darker part of Quito shortly afterwards. Rather than looking for a place in the dark on a Friday, I chose to follow a fellow rider's tip and went on a hunt for La Casona de Mario.

A big old house with emphasis on old, Mario's did have gated parking so Katirga was set. They didn't have any private rooms, but had a "matrimonial suite" which cost $20. Looking at the $10 mattress in the tiny dorm room, I said let's see the suite. Turns out the matrimonial suite is an empty small room with a bed in the middle. Uh, ok then.

There was not a single a soul in the house, and the host of the hostel did not appear too enthusiastic about providing pointers, so I went out for a beer based on the rarely agreeable suggestions of my Lonely Planet. Surely enough, the joint I headed out for was non-existent, so I asked the cab driver to reroute towards cerveza central which goes by the name Reina Victoria avenue.

Quito's zona rosa was lively, full of cafes, bars, and clubs, but dissappointing. Neither the crowd, nor the joints appealed to me much, so I briefly watered myself in a small bar on the street and took a cab back to my matrimonial suite.

I should've had more to drink. The night went by with mediocre sleep thanks to barks of the casona's two dogs, and the door bell for some reason ringing in my ear. I got up and looked for the coffee. The hostel with no beer naturally had no coffee either. Bugger this for a bunch of bananas.

Also on Reina Victoria, The Coffee Tree serves great breakfasts and excellent coffee, and provides free Wi-Fi internet access. I had a three hour wireless breakfast, and was surprised to see that my additional cups of coffee were also complimentary.

$20 in Quito can get you quite a lot, and that applies to accommodation as well. Now that I had my caffeine and daylight, looking for a decent place to stay was a no brainer. We packed up and headed to the historic town center. Centro historico immediately distinguished itself with its rich character and appeared to be a place worth spending some time at. Hotel Viena (nope, not Vienna. At the corner of Flores and Chile) had a nice room with private bathroom, TV, and balcony for $15. Once the receptionist rearranged the lobby furniture, it had secure parking as well.

The old town is very impressive, and requires more than just a half day's visit. But after beer o'clock, I discovered our first irreconcilable difference: there are no bars in this place! Not only that, there's a not a single store where I can buy cold beer to take home. That Saturday night, I went to bed early, sober, and pissed off.

Early Sunday morning, I was back to scouting the streets, this time for coffee. Everything was closed! After walking back and forth for an hour and a half between spots likely to serve coffee, one of them finally got going at 9:30. What a trip.

Sunday went by exploring more of the has been part of Quito, and Quito without a doubt had been. As for its now, that is best observed within the Plaza Grande.


Plaza Grande


The cathedral at Plaza Grande


Centro Cultural Metropolitano


Plaza San Francisco


La Compania de Jesus is Ecuador's most ornate church and has taken 163 years to build. With seven tons of gold used, it's interior is a must see. Sorry, no photos were allowed.

Below: Sunday portraits from old town Quito.











At the end of the day, I had to endure another dry evening and decided to leave in search of fertile ground.

Ipiales

(DAY224 : Popayan - Ipiales : 215 miles)


The ride to Ipiales started as a very impressive one, but 60 miles in to it, the road surface deteriorated. After that it was inconsistent, and trucks joined in to up the ante.




I entered the dusty border town of Ipiales and checked into the new and shiny Hotel El Nogal (on Carrera 7 & Calle 14) for $17. The plan was to rest and hit the border early, but it quickly got scrapped when I noticed the poster on the wall at the time of checkout. It was a photo of that spooky cathedral I was looking forward to see: Santuario de las Lajas. I had completely forgotten and passed it, but thankfully by only a few miles.

So I found and shot the place in a hurry at the worst possible time of day. (The best time would probably be at dusk on a rainy day with flashing lightnings in the background; second best just when I arrived the day before.)



Santuario de las Lajas

Popayan

(DAY223 : Cali - Popayan : 95 miles)


Popayan is another perfectly preserved Colonial town that lives with a "what's time got to do with it" kind of attitude; and that, I seem to embrace more than anything else these days. In my hurry to prove myself that I really can leave Colombia, I left Popayan after just one night, but I think I'll have to return there for a photographic project. I stumbled upon the coolest hangout, but wouldn't point a camera at anyone until I knew everyone and everyone knew me so I could get ignored. Collecting excuses to go back eh?


Preserving is one thing, keeping alive is another. In Colombia, Popayan is just another...


Fresh mangos. But you can get EVERYTHING on the street.


Such a great dinner! Beef has rarely been this good so far.

My room in a small but nice hotel cost $15. (Hotel Ciudad Blanca, Carrera 11 No:6-51) I also had a mishap there. I had parked Katirga in the tiny lobbly, really close to the wall. As I unloaded, she rose on her sidestand, leant on the left mirror and cracked it. How serious is this bad luck thing now?

San Cipriano

(A day trip from Cali)


Thanks to Thelma and Carolina (insert jokes here), I not only had a great ride through a rain forest, but also a taste of traveling without wheels. I will admit right upfront: life without Katirga would suck.

Fast forward through the very early get up, walk to the bus terminal, and the bus ride; the driver dropped us off in the middle of nowhere as per our two-word directions: San Cipriano. As we walked toward the shacks on the other side of the road, two young black guys raced each other to reach the, uh, us. They managed to argue, cuss, and tug while simultaneously making us offers and pressuring us to pick one of them as a guide. So we walked down a dirt road as a loud group of five, and found what we were looking for: the railroad tracks.

San Cipriano is tiny village made of shacks, buried deep in a tropical forest near the Pacific coast. It's only connection to the world is through a railway which rarely carries an actual train, so it's people use their own railcars for transportation. The village is cute and the river is nice, but it was really the ride that made our trip worthwhile.







San Cipriano railway terminal.


The village.



Swimming in drinking water. Quite rare these days.

Later, we took a bus to continue to Buenaventura on the coast before returning to Cali. Well, that was a waste of time.

Cali

(DAY219 : Villa de Leyva - Cali : 420 miles)
(DAY220 - 222 : Cali)


The ride to Cali was a 12 hour straight, iron-butt type of affair. Taking the route through Tunja ensured that my iron was thoroughly frozen on the way to Bogota. After crossing Bogota in one and a half hours, the road wound down among beautiful sights and reached the flat lands where the weather was nice and warm.





After my disappointing chorizo break at Ibague, we continued towards Armenia which on the map looked really close. At 15mph, nothing is. It was a non-stop twisty climb, one hairpin after another, through some of the most gorgeous views I have seen. The steep, deep green hills glowed in patches as the clouds above and below orchestrated a light show. The banana stands, little kids, men on horse back, donkeys tied to wooden sheds... It was all a dangerous distraction trying to do us in.

So far Colombia had appeared to have pretty good animal control. But here, they were all over the road, and mostly driving trucks. Watching the empty big truck in front of me go, I knew I would not have been alive tomorrow had I been coming from the other direction.

After descending to Armenia and locating the correct turn, the ride was fast and smooth all the way to Cali. We pulled in at around 7pm. It was dark, and it was Saturday. Never a good time to hunt for a place. The tiny dark room at Hotel Sartor cost $20, but at least had hot water and a large enough lobby for Katirga.

That evening, a short walk from the hotel got me on Avenida Sexta, which is lined up with Salsotecas. I had my first beer at a liquor store with tables out front, watching the Chiva busses go by paralyzing the traffic. To visualize a Chiva bus correctly, picture a colorfully painted old wide bus, knock out all the windows, and clear all seating. Then, hang a mirror globe in the middle of the passenger cabin, and light the space like a disco floor. Now fill it with drunk people and have it bouncing to loud Reggaeton, Ballenato, or Cumbia, while slowly rolling on the street. I know, I know, I should've taken the camera.

Other drinks followed in numerous joints where I watched Cali's salseros move. At one of them, I came across an incredible Salsa show. Ultimately, I concluded that there would not even be a contest between Calenas and Paisas, but I'm not telling more :)

The next day I moved to Hostel Iguana, assuming that they too would have hot water. You know what they say of assumptions... A musky and equally small private room was $14.

With more people around, come more ideas to do. Not always great ones. I mean I really could do without seeing Cali's zoo even if it's Colombia's best. In fact, I think that I'm now set for life zoo-wise. You know those Panda billboards plastered all over LA? Gizem and I did drive all the way to San Diego, and the little bastard wouldn't even come out. So we went to the Wild Animal Park to at least see the Bengal Tiger. In the tram, this is what we were told: "Ok folks! You see something moving over there behind the bushes?" (No.) "I think that's it's ear." Are you kidding me?? Well in all fairness, here in Cali, I at least got to see the Bengal Tiger. He looked as bored as I.

But the trip to San Cipriano was a good idea. (see: San Cipriano)

I'm not sure what I expected to find in Cali. Coming here was exciting, but leaving was better.

Villa de Leyva

(DAY217 : Zipaquira - Villa de Leyva: 90 miles)
(DAY218 : Villa de Leyva)


I arrived the year 1572 at around noon. But something must have gone awry because there were cars around.

Villa de Leyva is a cute little colonial town that seems to stand exactly as it did when it was founded. I'm not sure whether if it was this sleepy back then, but unless there's something special going on, this is THE place to do nothing (or sit and drink beer on the street all day like many locals).

My moovy night in Zipaquira had not provided me much sleep thanks to loud trucks passing below my window, so when it came to looking for a hotel, I went as far away from the town center as possible. That was about three blocks. My $16 room was nice and comfy, and I put it to use as soon as I checked in. When I woke up two hours later, the sunny cheerful sky had turned gray and leaky. I started the next day early, and once again under a sunny sky. But in the one hour that it took my eggs to be served, it turned rainy again.










Ultimately I ended up doing quite a bit of nothing in Villa de Leyva. Will need some more movies.

Zipaquira

(DAY216 : Bogota - Zipaquira : 40 miles)



Zipaquira

A small town just north of Bogota, Zipaquira possibly hosts the strangest cathedral on the planet. It's carved out of salt in an actual mine! Not only is it huge in scale, it's also earthquake proof. Add the trivia fact that the air in a salt mine is actually therapeutic, this is THE mine to visit if you're inclined to enter one. At the lower level, there's even a coffee shop and a big screen theatre showing an educational 3-D animation film.

Once accomplishing the feat of exiting Bogota, Zipaquira is only a short easy ride away. I headed straight to the Salt Cathedral and left Katirga with all the luggage and ride gear in the parking lot, within the park attendant's view. He gestured that he'd keep an eye on her, and didn't even mention the parking fee.

I think it was around 3pm when I entered the mine with a group led by an English speaking guide. While he was advising everyone to refrain from using their cameras yet, my 5D was acting up in the strangest ways. The guide's advice was in order to conserve battery power for the better part of the tour, which is at the lower level. As you know(!), salt mine interiors have a strong power draw that can drain a fresh set of batteries in less than an hour. He did explain why, but I wasn't among the few who understood (or just nodded?). Now I did have several fully charged batteries, but only if I could use them. Looking at these bizzare creations through the viewfinder and not being able to release the shutter was driving me nuts. Why on earth was this display flickering now?? I badly wanted my F3 back!

I had to leave the tour and ascend to daylight where I could at least see what I was doing. I couldn't find what might be the problem, but after further fiddling and cussing up at the entrance, it started to work normally. And luckily, I caught another group when I went back in. I was finally able to capture images. Until we got to the best part that is!






At the lower level, in the actual cathedral chamber, the grays in my hair doubled or tripled. The camera would lock up with the "busy" indicator after each exposure, leaving me with no option other than removing the battery and risking data loss. The first time it happened, I patiently waited half an hour. Good thing the 3-D film was fun.

When I finally headed out it was past 6pm. First I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. As it grew, I could distinguish the iron bars. THEY LOCKED ME IN???

The whole place was closed indeed, but they were nice enough to leave the tunnel gate unlocked. I wondered if I could use my museum ticket the next day. Then, I wondered if Katirga had all my gear. I dashed to see if I still had Katirga.

Phew! There she was, all alone, covered with trash bags. Trash bags?? Only then did I realize it had been raining out here. The park attendant had kindly covered all my gear. He had already gone home, so I couldn't even say thank you. Gracias y un abrazo parse!

After I checked in to a hotel with garage for $11, I went for a bite, then bought some DVDs. Wall-e, Wanted, 3:10 to Yuma, Kung-Fu Panda, etc... Six movies for $9! It was a moovy night.

Bogota

(DAY213 : Medellin - Bogota : 285 miles)
(DAY214 - 215 : Bogota)


I had already ridden the road to Rio Negro many times, but this time it was different. There was no going back home, to my cute blue room at Casa Kiwi. And as for Katirga, man did she feel fat! Nevertheless, being back on the road in traveller trim felt really good.

Past Rio Negro, the trip was through more green hills and valleys under dappled light. When it all flattened out at some point, the green remained and the blue grew. It got much warmer. Then, the traffic stopped. A recent land slide still being cleaned up. The best time to pass all the trucks ahead of me.


Minor delay on the way to Bogota

A while after we started climbing up, rain started coming down hard. Waterproofs on, tinted visor off. We pressed on, swimming up and up, towards the 2600 meter altitude of Bogota. The rain stopped. It got colder and colder. The air started tasting like that of a ski resort. It got darker and darker, until it could be called night. Then a thick fog descended, and I wondered if this could get worse. The traffic jammed. We were in Bogota.

Eight hours after leaving home, we had made it to the capital. But getting to La Candelaria down south would take another hour and a half. Sunday evening at 8:30 pm, Bogota's south side looked as dark and dangerous as the South Side. So I paid a cabbie and followed him to Hostel Sue which I was told could host a bike. We rode right in.

Hostel Sue looks, feels, and is cold. The lighting via the overhead spot almost made me confess everything, but I was too tired to talk and went straight to my $9 dorm bed. Straight meaning after only two Costenas of course ;)

My first day in Bogota started at around 7 am waking up to shrill screams of Janis Joplin. As I later discovered, what's her name of Hostel (who on earth is) Sue staff doesn't like anyone sleeping late if she isn't. Things I put up with for Katirga's security...

La Candelaria is the historic part of the city which also hosts the government buildings and a few museums. To me, Bogota is La Candelaria as that's where I spent all my time. Still, I did get a look at the whole thing from Cerro de Monserrate. I'm proud to have walked all the way to the teleferico (several blocks!), and astonished to learn that some actually hike to the top of that mountain. Que loco.


Up at Monserrate, you can choose to enjoy the view with good food and wine.


Just don't show up with a backpack.


Catedral Primada and Capilla del Sagrario in Plaza de Bolivar.


Capitolio Nacional (Capitol building) in Plaza de Bolivar









The good news from Bogota is, admission to the Botero museum is free.


Botero was actually from Medellin. I wonder where he found his inspiration.

But then, so is access to even more interesting work...







And as for the bad news, Katirga still burns oil at the same rate. Woodoo.


The fine print says it all.

My two nights following the first involved some partying and it looked like there was more to come, so I urgently left Bogota. I simply couldn't take the risk of getting stuck in Colombia longer.