San Agustín to Ecuador
Colombia – Epic Journey 2016-2018 Part XVII – Last Part
San Agustín
For almost a week now, we have been enjoying the beautiful San Agustín in southern Colombia, which is composed of picturesque mountain and river landscapes wrapped in coffee bushes. The weather is adding to the beauty, as sun, clouds, and rain showers conjure up a surreal play of light and shadow on the lush green hills.
We have rented a small guest room in the town. From here, we explore San Agustin's surroundings on foot. We hike through the deep gorges of the Rio Magdalena which flows right across Colombia before pouring into the Caribbean Sea in Barranquilla, just three hours from Palomino. We marvel at the many picturesque waterfalls, including the Salto del Mortiño which plunges 100 meters into the depths.
San Agustín is famous mainly because monumental stone sculptures have been found here. They come from a prehistoric culture of which not much is known. The statues were built between 200 B.C. and 700 A.D. and can be seen today in the San Agustín Archaeological Park.
We save the trip for a while and visit the many smaller attractions in the area instead. Sculptures are often found near the river, such as La Chaquira, four kilometers outside San Agustín.
Other excavation sites are located on the other side of the Magdalena Gorge, such as Alto de los Idolos which features several large stone sculptures.
The wondrous landscape around San Agustín, similar to Palomino or, say, Valle Sagrado in Peru, attracts nature-loving people who buy land and build their homes here.
We find one of these people on one of our extended walks. Cesar waves to us from his garden. He is Colombian, about 65, and a passionate gardener. He shows us his green kingdom, which he cares for daily, and nourishes him in return.
He shows us his salads and the huge cardamon that grows exquisitely here. He tells us that he has also hosted traveling volunteers who have helped in the garden. We are to let him know if we would like to do the same.
Another special resident of San Agustín, with whom we spend a few days, tells us about the Tatacoa Desert, about a five-hour drive north of San Agustín. According to his description, it must be a typical red desert, where nature has created its own stone sculptures with the help of wind and weather, where cacti grow and the Milky Way illuminates the night. It sounds like Utah or Arizona, just smaller.
We can hardly imagine it since we are standing here in the green mountains. This desert is supposed to be that close? That's what we want to find out.
Tatacoa
We take a shared cab to Neiva and from there a bus to the village of Villavieja. Most of the visitors hop on a kind of tuk-tuk cab from here to an accommodation in the desert. We don't bother with that and hike the six kilometers.
As we walk, the landscape becomes more barren and redder. We pass an observatory and soon find our desert accommodation where we rent hammocks for two nights.
After only a few hours of travel, we find ourselves in a completely different world compared to San Agustín. Here, too, we first set out on foot to explore the bizarre desert and rocky landscape. Thereby, we take many, many photos.
Although it is cloudy, we book a visit to the observatory at night. There, through a telescope, the planets of our solar system are presented to us whenever the sky clears. Not so easy to get a good glimpse when the whole group of 12 or 14 people wants to look through it.
The next day we rent a bike and ride a little deeper into the desert. On the way, we observe a film crew on set shooting a Jesus Christ scene. Strange, we suddenly find ourselves among Romans and Jesus' followers in the middle of Colombia.
In the Valle de los Xilópalos, the sandstone was washed out in a very peculiar way. The figures that were created resemble a ghost so much that some jokers even gave them a smiley face.
After two nights in the hammock, we ride back to San Agustín. Because there we have not seen everything yet by far.
Back in San Agustín
We haven't visited the Sculpture Park, the large archaeological site, in San Agustín yet, and we're making up for it now. We photograph what we can because each figure has its own character. In the park, we read that they are demons or gods created by the San Agustín culture some 2000 years ago.
Many have been excellently restored and although they are ancient, you can make out lots of details in faces and bodies. We also see tombs decorated with animal figures or other characters. The site is large, and we spend most of a day in it.
Putumayo
Finally, it is time to move on. Although we have heard that the Putumayo province in the very south of Colombia is rough, our next destination is Mocoa. At the moment there are presidential elections in Colombia which means that in certain parts of the country, like Putumayo, some politicians are being executed again.
We think that it does not concern us tourists and drive anyway - and end up in the middle of the jungle.
It will be a short visit because we don't have too much time left. It is worthwhile in all respects, however. In a very simple accommodation without electricity, we live like Tarzan in the jungle. It would have been tempting to find a curandero, a shaman, who would perform an ayahuasca ceremony with us. This is what the Putumayo is known for.
When we arrive at the lodging, the owner tells us that they had just held a ceremony yesterday. Maybe there would be another one soon. I interpret this as a sign that there is no need to attend a ceremony at the moment.
Instead, Seraina and I hike alone into the jungle, on paths that still belong to the land of the lodge but still lead quite deep into the forest.
There we find a clearing where a simple hut, cooking, and fireplace have been built; obviously for ayahuasca and similar ceremonies.
Nearby is the "Ojo de Dios" (the Eye of God). Here a clear jungle stream flows through some rapids and pools where we can bathe all to ourselves.
Cleansed and ready for the last adventure of this trip, we emerge from the jungle.
On to Ecuador
From Mocoa we reach Pasto via "the most dangerous road in Colombia". The road is indeed spectacular. It winds over a gravel road out of the jungle up to the plain of the Andes. Water flows over the road which is surely swept away by floods every now and then - taking everything with it. And we jammed between the other passengers in the minibus.
After, I can't remember, five, six, seven hours, we finally arrive in Pasto, where we fall into bed, dead tired. The next day it is only a stone's throw to the border.
Here we are expected by a long, looooong line of people. We are alarmed. It won't take hours to get into Ecuador, but days!
We stamped out relatively quickly, but how should we get into Ecuador now? We walk along the queue that winds all the way around the customs building with no end in sight. They are Venezuelan refugees who have already spent days and nights on the bus to get further to Ecuador or Peru.
One woman tells me that she and her family, huddled on the ground with other people, have been waiting in line here since yesterday. It is drizzling and cool at these heights. I feel sorry for these people. Driven out of their land that would be so rich.
We are saved once again by our red passport. We are waved through by an official, processed, and sent on our way.
The last stop on our epic journey, which began in the fall of 2016 and is now scheduled to end in June 2018, is Otavalo, an hour north of Ecuador's capital, Quito.
It is a well-known market town that attracts many visitors every weekend. Among many other things, colorful paintings and clothes are offered by the indigenous people living here. It reminds me of Guatemala.
But we didn't come here for that. We want to visit Reto and his family whom we met about three years ago in Canoa on a beach in Ecuador.
He is originally from Switzerland and runs a self-built hotel just outside of town with his wife Anahel and daughter Valentina. We immediately fall in love with their gem with the magnificent view of corn fields, mountains, and in the distance Otavalo on the lake.
Here we spend some quiet days and get used to the Swiss German by talking to Reto.
One more anecdote from the airport in Quito. I am once again cited to the baggage control. With other passengers, I wait my turn. Nervous? Not really. I'm not carrying anything illegal. But I have heard stories that are now flitting through my head again. Did someone smuggle something into my luggage? The officer looks serious. Should I be worried?
I am asked to empty my backpack completely, to open all compartments and show them. When I pick up the one-kilo block of panela wrapped in cling film, he gets suspicious. What is this?
"Panela, handmade and pressed raw sugar," I inform him. It's a good thing they know this kind of sugar here even though I brought it from Colombia.
Nevertheless, he finds it strange that I want to take so much sugar home with me. He pulls out a knife and stabs the sugar block a few times. Probably to make sure that it really isn't heroin and that I don't want to hide anything in the block.
He finds nothing compromising and has to let me go.
Whew! One last small, heart-pounding adventure on the way home to summery Switzerland via Madrid. That should suffice.
For the moment.
The End
Epic Journey 2016-18
Back to Part XVI:
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