Dec 2007

One of most talked about places to visit in South America is the Machu Pichu ruins in Peru, but of a city of the same scale with only a fraction of the visitors (and it is believed to have been founded about 800 A.D., some 650 years earlier than Machu Picchu) exists just a 3 day trek into the Siera Nevada jungle in northern Colombia. Rather inventively named Cuidad Perdida - the lost city as it was only discovered in 1972 when a gang of local treasure looters stumbled across the steps.
The hike itself involves some pretty hard climbs up mountainous valleys, but the views on the way and the thought of jumping into the river at the end of each day keep you going.

Luckily we had good weather unlike other groups who were up to their knees in mud and sliding back down the hills as fast as they were climbing them.
After about 5 hours of walking a day you arrive at the surprisingly developed refuge (where someone had actually carried a pool table 2 days into the jungle) to hang your hammock before trying to work out how to sleep in it without waking up with your feet around your ears in the morning.

After a few days though you eventually get the hang of it, or are just so tired you pass out anyway.

WARNING: PARENTS AND FUTURE EMPLOYERS MIGHT NOT WANT TO READ THE NEXT BIT
One of the optional extras you can do no the way to the lost city is to visit a ´cocaine factory´; obviously not the real thing as they are on a much larger scale, but blatant enough for them to have to of been paying off the right people in order to get away with it.
Walking deeper into the jungle past some none too subtle coca plantations

you arrive at the lab, which is little more than a few plastic containers of differing sizes.

What you see next is enough to put off even the most street hardened crack-head, as starting from a handful of coca leaves he adds Jamie Oliver style quantities of petrol, sulphuric acid, caustic soda and nail polish remover and with a bit of filtering and sedimentation in the middle ends up with something that pretty much resembles what Colombia is so famous for.

From a purely scientific perspective the process is beautifully refined, having gone from an everyday herb that the indigenous people used to chew to offset altitude sickness and fatigue 1000´s of years ago, to being crafted into the modern version of cocaine in a secret CIA laboratory (if you believe the conspiracy theories) by some obviously quite skilled people, then for it to be transformed out of the lab into the middle of the jungle using readily available household chemicals, so as demonstrated anyone can make cocaine.

OK YOU CAN START READING AGAIN NOW
The last day of the hike up to the lost city itself was the hardest, having to ford the river 7 times with a full pack as the mules weren´t joining us for this bit,

before climbing the 1000+ steps to the top of the mountain

where the city opens above you as if it had just been built yesterday despite being 2500 years old (well the foundations anyway, as the housing was just temporary structures made out of wood).

Getting up early in the morning after a rather cozy nights sleep with 35 people in the hut designed for 20, to walk around the site alone presented some stunning views we hadn´t seen the evening before,

and an opportunity to chat with the young soldiers stationed there for a month apiece

and have a play with their slightly scary guns. (or maybe it is just the person holiding the gun that is scarey)

The journey back down the valley was even more fun, as we stopped in to some secluded indigeonous settlements where the people pretty much stay for their whole lives, only making trips to ´civilisation´ to barter for goods

where the most beautiful but feral children I have ever seen live that still seem supprised at the sight of westerners.

as the rains had eventually come, so the rivers had risen considerably by this point meaning anyone trying to cross them on foot would be swept away, prompting some Indian Jones style river crossing

and some rather drenched but happy campers that were that point too tired to care.

As Twylad sailed into the mouth of Cartegena harbour with only 1ft of water to spare under her keel from the century's old under-sea wall built to repel those dastardly Brits, everyone on board was sad in their own ways as the adventure was newly over. After waiting on the boat for some dodgy visa dealings (which would come back to haunt me later on) we left Twylad for the last time to set foot on South American soil.

The city itself is one of the most developed in the whole of Colombia as it if one of the major resorts for Colombian tourism. And this was a major difference you would see for the rest of the country, the amount of locals travelling throughout the country is far more than ever seen in the whole of central America.
Cartegena itself has been quite a highly contested piece of real estate for many centuries, as can be seen from the 100+ forts that line the coast and give the fortified city its character.

Most amusing is reading about the history of the place in the informative naval museum, where we learn that Sir Francis Drake wasn´t the brave heroic adventurer we were taught in British history classes at school, but a pillaging pirate determined to destroy the peaceful Spanish way of life (that they had created after a fair amount of pillaging themselves). Oh the two sides to history...
Just outside the city is one of the greatest hangover cures known to man in the rather strange form of a mud volcano.

I´ve never really been one for spa breaks, but this was incredible. Try as you might you just couldn´t sink below shoulder level, not that you would want to with all the mud massages and scrubs available on the surface.

A few hours along the coast is the ´beach resort´ of Santa Marta, although it is hard to see the attraction with the biggest container port in Colombia at the end of the beach. However just a 15 minute hop over the hill is a completely different matter, the beautiful coved town of Taganga surrounded by mountains that make it look like something out of Captain Corelli´s Mandolin.

With one of the nicest hostels so far perched half way up the hill, perfect for chilling in a hammock on the patio watching the sunset

and enjoying one of the very fine sandwiches from down the road (I think I tried pretty much the whole menu, and they even deliver for only 200m away).
The town itself has been converted into a little Israeli Butlins, with most of the signs and menu´s written in Hebrew (not quite sure why they can´t learn Spanish like the rest of us); a despite some really nice diving nearby

the shops themselves are a little cowboy, churning out ´advanced´ divers without them even having opened the theory book.

Further along the coast you get to the Tayrona national park, made famous by the book Gringo Trail where
after treking through the jungle for a few hours (allbeit on a properly made path now, a change from the self machetted one in the book) you get to Arecifies beach where the book has its ending, not to ruin the story, but you really shouldn´t swim here...

Another hour walk along the beach and you get to Cabo San Juan, a beautiful little cove with one of the greatest penthouses in the world perched on top on a rocky outcrop.


where you wake up in your hamock looking over the bay.

which is the perfect to while away several days if you have brought enough insect repellent, cans of tuna, and a good camera to take adventage of the sunsets and local boudlers