Colombia

At our post-midnight check-in, my pal Lorri and her son Ryan (who’d been there a day, and had stayed up to welcome us), let us know we’d need to leave with our guide Stephanie at 8:30 sharp .  We enjoyed our arepas, eggs, and excellent coffee. Lorri and Ryan had had a great time exploring the city the day before, and Lorri was anxious to see more of Parque Jjeras down the hill.  We liked our little hotel, though Lorri’s shower knob was broken or touchy or both, and she’d had a hard time dialing in the right temperature.  (Later in the trip, we’d find ourselves grateful for any semblance of hot water, but we were blissfully ignorant of this as yet.)

Our guide Stephanie arrived and told us we’d be going to the bus station, then a drive up and over the mountains surrounding Medellín to the towns of Peñol and Guatapé.  A tiny car met us in the driveway for the short ride to the bus station, so we put Stephanie up front, stuffed the four of us in the back, and were on our way.

The Terminale del Norte bus station was busy but not packed.  I could tell the boys were impressed by the place, mainly because there were no shortage of opportunities to buy candy and sweets.  There were enough open seats on the bus for Tyler and Ryan to sit together, and for Lorri and I to sit behind them.  The boys were both equipped with app-laden iPads for the long drive and were itching to plunge into them.  Though I’d rather my son appreciate the view more than on-the-road electronics permit, you’ve got to pick your battles and I enjoy peaceful rides as much as I presumed our fellow passengers did.

As we followed the Río Medellín out of town, Stephanie told us about the elaborate Christmas displays we were passing, and the huge farmer’s market, the Central Mayorista.  She was German, but had been living in the city for five years, and was knowledgeable, friendly, and sweet.  Once out of Medellín, the bus stopped every 15 or 20 minutes to let people on and off.  At these stops, and also especially at toll plazas, Extreme Food Vendors would board in front and traverse the length of the bus.  They had mostly sweet snacks wrapped in paper or plastic and dangling from sticks.  Once they’d satisfied everyone’s craving for chocolate or coconut filled bread, they’d step lightly out the rear exit — and the fact the bus by then was doing 10-20 MPH didn’t phase them a bit.

The drive was fascinating.  There were farms with skinny horses, nurseries, places you could buy pre-fabricated homes, tons of small roadside cafés.  Many of the buildings were made of or used bamboo, and Stephanie told us how a plentiful local species is often used in housing.  The roads were in excellent shape except where they weren’t — mudslides are commonplace in the lush, densely vegetated mountains.  (I kept an eye out for Kathleen Turner in her newly macheted flats.)  We had excellent cell signal throughout, so I was able to pull up Peñol and Guatapé in Stuck On Earth and give Lorri a preview of our destination.   

We reached El Peñón de Guatapé, a black monolith rising out of the landscape between two small towns about 55 miles NE of Medellín, at about 11:00 a.m.  A brick stairway switchbacks its way to the 7,000 ft/2,000 km summit.  We opted for a quickie cab ride from the main road to the base, during which the boys asked Stephanie, who translated and asked the cabbie, what the rock is made of.  He didn’t know, but said many locals think it’s a meteorite — which the boys found very cool.  Before tackling the steps to the top we made a restroom stop.  This is where I learned the Colombian rule of toilet paper:  you either bring it with you, pay for it, or marvel that you didn’t have to bring it with you or pay for it.  Having been in the country already a day, Lorri performed TP management and brought me up to speed.  

The walk up looked more daunting than it was.  The stairs dip in and out of sunlight and shadow, and the view across the adjacent valley and reservoir improves with each turning.  Bromiliads spring from the rock’s sheer sides, and the shrine to Mary halfway up makes a nice resting spot and view point.

The top rewarded us for our efforts.  There was ice cream, a little rain, and spectacular vistas.   The boys ran around and took pictures of us, each other, the view.  We chatted with Stephanie about the hydroelectric dam that had formed the reservoir in the 1960′s, and the farms, buildings, and churches that are now under water.

On the way back down, Tyler doggedly counted every step.  He got 606, but that didn’t include the ones to the topmost observation tower at the summit.

With El Peñón under our belts, it was time to think about lunch so we grabbed a quick cab into Guatapé.  We dined on the lakeside patio of La Fogata, and had yummy trucha (trout) and other local fare.  We were happy we arrived when we did, because about five minutes after we got settled at a prime lakeside table, a tour bus full of Colombians on holiday arrived and took every other seat in the place.  The woman at the table next to us did an impromptu, operatic duet with the musicians serenading the diners.  For dessert, we snagged ice cream from the spot next door for the boys and successfully got them to take their malaria pills (which we were taking in anticipation of the jungle portions of the trip) by burying them inside.  This was to become a daily challenge:  how to transform adult malaria pills into something kids would actually ingest.  

We spent the balance of the afternoon touring the Guatapé Reservoir in a tiny boat.  Remarkably, the reservoir and its gorgeous, glassy water were devoid of water sports lovers.  There were only small boats such ours and one or two larger tour boats.  The shores were forested, green, and dotted with fincas (vacation home estates). There was also an eerie artifact of Colombia’s Pablo Escobar days.  His former, once luxurious finca, still juts into the reservoir on a commanding piece of property, but today it’s a charred and graffitied shell.  Stephanie told us there are several of Escobar’s erstwhile homes in similar condition throughout the country, left this way as a cautionary tale and reminder of his ill-fated end.

We stopped nearby at Puerto de la Cruz, once the colonial-style home of a doctor, now a café and museum. Photos and exhibits tell how people nearby were relocated to Guatapé when the dam was built and the reservoir flooded their land.  We took our time there, enjoying some cervezas. cappucino, hot cocoa, and spectacular views. 

Too soon, it was time to get back to Guatapé and catch the bus back to Medellín.  We enjoyed the boat ride back and more strolilng through the picturesque town of Guatapé. Guatapé is full of dazzlingly colored buildings, many of which include bas-relief artwork between the sidewalk and about hip level.  The town has a beautiful church, packed for mass on a Tuesday afternoon, and a conveniently located wine bar where we provisioned up for the ride home.  It also has a wild-looking canopy ride over the lake.  We were tempted, but our kids were a bit young for that particular adventure (I think the minimum age for riders was 15).

After a long and crowded bus ride back, we had a few minutes to freshen up and go meet our Viventura host Matt Dickhaus for dinner.  Tex-Mex in Medellín?  Yep, at T-Bar Restaurante.  I think you can find just about every cuisine imaginable around Parque Lleras.  Over our first shot of aguardiente (the national drink; a little like ouzo), we discussed the rest of our trip.  We had a flight the next morning to Nuquí for 3 nights on the Pacific Coast. Then, back to Medellín with time, we hoped, for sightseeing and shopping, and off again to the Caribbean coast, this time with Matt coming along for the ride.  Lorri and I were a little nervous about the Nuquí leg of the trip, where, during the transit portion, we’d be left to our own devices without a guide.  But someone from the lodge was to meet us at the airport, so we weren’t too worried.  

We talked too about the Hotel Charlee across from where we were dining.  It looked like the local equivalent of the Cosmopolitan, Las Vegas.  Lorri and Ryan had taken the full tour before we arrived.  The art (“naked people!”) and rooftop club/lounge/pool had made quite an impression.  

All in all, a great end to an exhausting but fun day.

More photos from Day 1 are here and here.

Next time:  I’d take private transportation to Guatapé and Peñol.  The bus was efficient and a good window into the culture, but long and crowded.  I’d also make sure to save enough time for the Canopy ride, and probably spend a night or two in Guatapé.

Next up:  Flying to Nuquí, and on by boat to the El Cantil Ecolodge.

Please see:  the disclosures at the end of this earlier post.

However, I’d joined Google+ the month before, had been using the service, and at that time I think about 10,000 people had me in circles.  (The growth on Google+ has been remarkable.  On Twitter, some 8,000 people follow me and that’s been constant for awhile.  On Google+ at the moment, 245,590 people have me in circles, up from 10K in early August and 0 in early July.  I have no idea why there’s such rapid uptake on Google+ or why the huge disparity with Twitter, which I’ve used for five years.)  For this reason, 26-year old Matt Dickhaus, head of U.S. marketing for Viventura, emailed and asked if I wanted to “participate in a South American tour,” possibly for free.

With apologies to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, thus began my Six Stages of Colombia.

Stage 1 – Incredulity.  People don’t offer me trips to South America every day.  I was intrigued but skeptical.  I don’t stay at “free” hotels that require a time-share pitch, and this seemed like a possible branch of that tree.  Also, I have an 8-year-old, Tyler, who, when you pick him up and shake him, feels only somewhat ready for international travel – not quite ripe, in other words.  Leaving him home wasn’t an option, nor did I want to. 

Stage 2 – Excitement.  Matt and I started emailing and speaking by phone.  Tyler adores animals, and has been obsessed with the rainforest since age 3.  We honed in on Colombia.  Viventura had never had young children join a tour (they generally recommend travelers be at least 14), but Matt and his team began putting together a new itinerary:  “a kid friendly journey with a focus on the beautiful beaches and extraordinary wildlife Colombia has to offer.”  Plus, what Viventura wanted from me was something I’d want to do anyway:  post pictures, share the experience online.  Viventura could accommodate up to 9 people on a tour, so I started asking friends with kids if this was something they could see themselves doing.  I offered to spread my “free” trip across all the travelers so what it would amount to was a slightly deeper discount than the 10% off they would already receive.  I asked local friends.  I asked relatives.  I asked Evan Brown.  I asked Rick Klau.  Many were interested but it’s a lot for people to drop everything and haul their kids to South America, and our travel dates were right up against the holidays.

Stage 3 – Panic.  By October 3, I was serious enough about the trip to be looking into nitty-gritty details, like air fare (expensive and indirect, from Los Angeles), and safety.  Our anchor city for much of the trip was Medellín, which no North American adult can hear without also immediately inserting the words “Drug Cartel.”  U.S. State Department advisories about Colombia are somewhat encouraging (“Security in Colombia has improved significantly in recent years” and “The incidence of kidnapping in Colombia has diminished significantly from its peak at the beginning of this decade”), but also chilling:

[T]errorist groups such as the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), the National Liberation Army (ELN), and other criminal organizations continue to kidnap and hold civilians for ransom or as political bargaining chips. No one is immune from kidnapping on the basis of occupation, nationality, or other factors. Kidnapping remains a serious threat, with two kidnapping cases of U.S. citizens reported since August 2010. One kidnapped citizen was rescued within 4 days and the other case resulted in the murder of the victim. Kidnapping in rural areas is of particular concern. On July 2, 2008, the Government of Colombia rescued 15 hostages, including three U.S. citizens, who had been held for more than five years. Although the U.S. government places the highest priority on the safe recovery of kidnapped U.S. citizens, it is U.S. policy not to make concessions to or strike deals with kidnappers. Consequently, the U.S. government’s ability to assist kidnapping victims is limited. 

[Link mine.]  Matt and I emailed.  He’s originally from Florida.  He has lived and traveled in Colombia without incident for two years.  They’ve been running tours for 5 years with non-U.S. customers (primarily Germans) without a single issue:  no thefts, let alone a kidnapping.  Matt’s the poster child for the country’s official tourism campaign, The Only Risk Is Wanting To Stay:  he went there on vacation and decided to stay on. 

At this point, the exponential growth of Google+ was starting to creep me out.  I was now in over 50,000 people’s circles.  I told Matt that if we did this, I didn’t want to post during the trip.  Someone could readily follow along with our online itinerary and have an unpleasant surprise waiting at our next destination.  No problem, Matt completely understood, and sent me more information about Colombia, crime, drugs, and kidnapping.  Bottom line:  I was reassured.

Stage 4 – Excitement.  This trip was sounding amazing.  Pacific beaches, Caribbean beaches, the historic city of Cartagena, a mud volcano, probably more animal and plant species than in any other country on the planet regardless of size?  Tyler and I were so in.  And, it turned out, so were were my great friend and neighbor Lorri Megonigal, and Tyler’s best pal on earth, her son Ryan.  We started organizing.  Rick Steves travel satchel?  Check.  Packable beach toys?  Check.  Shots and pills…?

Stage 5 – Dread.  The next U.S. government Web site to throw cold water on the proceedings was the CDC.  You don’t go to the beach and jungle regions of Colombia without innoculations for yellow fever, typhoid, and Hepatitis A and B.  And with malaria, of course, there’s no vaccine (have you read State of Wonder?), you have to take preventative pills.

Ugh, two 8-year-olds and a battery of shots and pills.  It was a testament to how much the kids wanted to go that they sucked it up and did it.  Not without tears and trauma, but they did it.  My son had never swallowed pills before, and we learned that capsules (assisted by water through a straw) are easier than tablets, and tablets (even foul tasting ones) are easiest with peanut M&Ms.  Yellow fever shots make your arm sore.  They make a little kid’s arm considerably more so.

The sales clerk at my local Ace Hardware is a dead ringer for Sofia Vergara, a decade or so from now.  I asked her where was she from.

“South America.” 

“What country?”

“I don’t talk about that.”

“Is it Colombia?  Because we might go to Colombia.”

“Djyehs.”

End of discussion. 

We spent Thanksgiving with good friends, one of whom travels often to Medellín and Bogotá for business.  While there, he is constantly accompanied by armed private security and uses armored ground transport.

There are land mines in various parts of the country, we learned.  Not on our itinerary.  But still.

Stage 6 – Excitement.  We paid our initial deposit, bought travel insurance, checked our existing insurance for what it covered, bought international phone and data plans.

I started cruising Clicker.com for Colombia videos.  Anthony Bourdain did a great one on Medellín and Cartagena.  Music Voyager made me want to salsa, and further assured me visits could be fun and safe.  Globe Trekker showed gorgeous Cartagena and described its pirate past.  I shared these with friends (including my travel companion) and family to help them feel better about our decision; nearly everyone I told about the trip expressed something between surprise and alarm.  I read about smuggling subs in Wired, saw that the FARC leader had been taken out, and noted the myriad videos about drug and FARC violence were mostly out of date. 

I met a sweet woman with no English, and her daughter, my son’s age, with some, at a fall craft fair.  She was a talented artisan and made beautiful leather goods.  They were from Colombia.

Another is from Colombia, Barranquilla.  At their holiday party, her sweetheart of a mother gushed about the country and offered to teach me some salsa. 

Someone reminded me to dig up Romancing The Stone.  (I’ve yet to see Colombiana.)

By November 12, we’d booked air fare, paid deposits, and were definitely going.  If we didn’t know anything else, we knew it would be an adventure.

Disclosures.  I’ve been following the discussions begun several years ago by Jeff Jarvis and renewed this month by Rafat Ali and Jeremy Head, about bloggers, travel, exposure, and junkets.  I’m also well aware of my obligations under the FTC Endorsement Guides and regulations.  As I think you’ll see in coming posts, the arrangement between me and Viventura wound up being more of a beta test than a junket.  I traveled, I gave feedback, and now I’m writing.  In order for you to assess my objectivity, or lack thereof, for yourself, here are all the benefits and incentives Viventura provided.

• 1 tour package, ordinarily priced at $1,745.00 U.S.,
• 10% discount for those traveling with me (children priced same as adults),
• 2 surprise Salsa lessons in Cartagena,
• 1 surprise 1-night hotel upgrade, following some flight arrangements gone awry,
• 2 small wooden boxes of coffee candy as farewell gifts, and
• 4 days traveling with Matt Dickhaus as interpreter, guide, all-around good guy, and child-whisperer.

Other than the meals included in my complimentary tour (4 dinners and what wound up being 7 breakfasts, for 1 person), we paid for all our own food and drink, our air fare to Colombia, hotel incidentals, some taxis, entrance fees for Tayrona and El Piedra del Peñol, and horse rental fees in Tayrona.  For more on what is and is not included in the tour, go here.

Next up, our first day in Colombia:  staying in Medellín, and traveling to La Piedra del Peñol y La Reserva de Guatapé (The Peñol Rock and The Guatapé Reservoir).

(Amazon links above are affiliate links.)

Over the next couple of weeks as the holiday dust settles, I’ll tell you much more about how we decided to go to Colombia (it unfailingly raises eyebrows), where we went, the people we met, the animals who ate our food and pooped on us, our impressions along the way, the mud we wore (voluntarily and otherwise), and what’s on my list for our next visit. I can’t wait to narrate and re-live our experiences, as it was alternately magical, frustrating, eye-opening, and once-in-a-lifetime fun.

As you know I’m a technology lawyer, not a travel writer. But I have a medium-ish online footprint, and Viventura would like U.S. travelers interested in South America to know they’re there. I’ve never opted in to a subsidized trip like this before (and don’t know if I would again, or even be asked), but the good thing about being tapped to beta-test Viventura’s program is it got me and my son off our keisters and on the road. We weren’t looking to go to South America but I’m so glad we did.

Viventura comped the expense of my tour (otherwise $1,745 U.S.), and gave a 10% discount to everyone traveling with me. We paid for our own international airfare (pricey) and most of our food while there (cheap). I’m under no obligation to say good things about the experience or the company, and when I write it up in detail I’ll let you know what was spectacular and what was less so. 

I look forward to telling you more soon about our time in Colombia! In the meantime, a warm and tranquil holiday to you and your family. (For our part, we have a renewed appreciation for hot showers and sane drivers.)