Publicerad: 16.10.2017
Our travel route continues from Bogota up to the north of the country. The stops that have been recommended to us by locals as well as many other backpackers are: Salento, Medellin, Cartagena, Minka. We will now tell you about what happened there.
Our first destination is Salento. A small village located at an altitude of over 1900 meters, surrounded by an idyllic mountain landscape. Since the bus from Bogota only takes us to Armenia, we wait there at 4 a.m. for another bus that will take us to Salento. By the way, night rides are not very enjoyable for everyone's stomach on the winding roads, so we arrive in Salento quite tired at six o'clock in the morning. There, we wait for the local fleet of jeeps to start operating. Yes, jeeps. Here in the mountains, there are no taxis, only jeeps and motorcycles transport the locals and visitors to all places outside the village center, including our hostel YAMBOLOMBIA.
When we arrive there at half past six in the morning, there is already a lot of activity. However, the bewildered arrivals quickly check into their rooms and catch up on missed sleep. Freshly rested, the hostel turns out to be the already mentioned Villa Kunterbunt from the Bogota blog. Here, the lovable Bob Marley fan Gabriel lives with his three dogs Rasta, Joint, and Yambo (which, by the way, are also the breakfast options) as well as his horse. In addition, the hostel is located on a hill and offers a fantastic view of the entire valley from the front yard. In the evening, all hostel residents gather at the table, cook, and play UNO. We haven't pulled that out of the closet for years, and with so many nations at the table, there are a lot of new rules to learn. The Australians' rules are particularly creative.
After a relaxed first day, we set off to Valle de Cocora with our new acquaintances Ashton (USA), Kerstin (GB), and Patricia (a German who is studying in Heidelberg and happens to live in the apartment next to Sebastian's old student residence - a crazy small world). Here, the endangered wax palms stand. We hike for several hours over sticks, stones, and streams, cross shaky suspension bridges, and admire the diverse nature. There is also a hummingbird house where you can admire the small tame birds up close and get a coffee or hot chocolate (with cheese - why do Colombians always eat chocolate with cheese?) if you prefer.
For the following day, we book a horseback tour through the coffee region, including a visit to a coffee farm. Yes, we really wanted to try that, and after we have convinced ourselves of the good condition of the animals along with our knowledgeable guides Anna-Lena and Patricia, we get on the saddle. Since we are both inexperienced riders, we get the 'slow horses that just trot behind the others', while the two experienced riders get the faster ones. Patricia prances ahead on her horse, and the rest of us follow. But that won't last long. Throughout the ride, our two horses ruthlessly vie for the lead position in the caravan. Lisa's horse, in particular, doesn't want to give up the pole position and sometimes even runs upstream in completely the wrong direction. Relaxing riding is different, but our caballero only knows one word during the trip: ESPECTACULAR. Whether it's the horse, the view, the mood, the weather, or the waterfall - everything is simply ESPECTACULAR. At times, we have to ride with a poncho on because we get caught in a thunderstorm, but in the end, we arrive back in the city center of Salento dry and unharmed.
There is a lot going on here because it's the Washing Machine Festival! Who doesn't know it? Here at the main square, everyone is allowed to do their laundry, and a large board shows how many kilos have already been run through the drums. We are excited because we can also do our laundry for free here - as backpackers, every bargain is welcome. Off to the hostel, get the laundry, and come back. However, since the walk takes 20 minutes each way, we arrive just in time and go for beer with our laundry. On the way, we meet Kaya, a traveler from our hostel, but she doesn't recognize us because we are wearing a slightly jumbled outfit of our last clean laundry. Later, she tells us about a Colombian family she met on the street along with their laundry. That must have been us.
For one last time, we sit in the garden in the evening and enjoy the wonderful view of the valley. We have grown very fond of Salento and Yambolombia, but now the journey continues to Medellin.