Fives

When I first arrived in Cali five years ago I had no expectations and many misconceptions.  I knew I was going to a place regarded by the US State Department as having "improved in recent years...but violence by narco-terrorist groups continues to affect some rural areas and large cities" and that coffee, cocaine, and Shakira were considered major exports.  And end list of Colombian "knowledge."

Five years later, I leave with a new language, three places I called home, and hundreds of faces attached to thousands of memories.  The reality of attempting to wrap this experience up into one closing post is a challenge I am not willing to dissect, digest, and disseminate.  That being said, I would like to acknowledge some of the bests (and worsts) after half a decade in this passionate and often misunderstood corner of the world.

Without further anticipation, I present to you my Five Colombian Top 5's (I struggle with overkill):

LIST #1: Top Five Most Unique Places

1. Valle de Cocora  This park is what Dr. Suess must have dreamt of when he created The Lorax.  Settled in a lush green valley reminiscent of the Swiss Alps in the middle of the "coffee axel" and just outside of the pueblito of Salento, in the department of Quindío, this National Park is home to the towering palma de cera or wax palm, the national tree of Colombia.  Whether exploring the valley on foot or horseback, as the clouds roll in and the tops of these enormous trees disappear, its impossible to not feel as if you've been transported inside the pages of a children's book. 

2. El infiernito  Located just outside of the village of Villa de Leyva north of Bogotá, this bizarre archeological site originally served as a ceremonial grounds for the Muisca indians to monitor the solstices and celebrate the fertility of the land...by erecting giant stone penises all over the hillside.  (I realize I used the world "erecting" and I am not apologizing for it.)  The Spanish conquerers were so appalled by this land that after their attempts at destroying and knocking over the statues failed, they resorted to renaming it "the little Hell" in an effort to dissuade the natives to go there in the first place.   

3. Santuario de las Lajas  Just outside of Ipiales near the Ecuadorian border in the department of Nariño is an impressive church that spans a river valley.  Why would someone build a church - or anything - in such a precarious location, you might ask?  Well, when a peasant woman and her daughter see the image of the Virgin Mary on a rock, in the middle of nowhere, sometimes things just get built.  The museum beneath the church in the catacombs, though bizarre, is also worth a visit as well.

4. Ciudad Perdida  High atop the mountains outside of Santa Marta along the caribbean coast sits the "lost city" of the Tairona people.  Likened to Peru's Machu Picchu but older, this indigenous city was never discovered by the conquistadores as they pillaged the coast, most likely due to the fact that the Taironas fled deeper into the jungle, integrating with other indigenous groups until they themselves ethnically ceased to exist.  Rediscovered in the 1970's by guaqueros, or grave robbers, a hike to the site today is a challenging but rewarding four to six days in and out.

5. San Cipriano  This tiny one road, no car town in the middle of the jungle - off the highway between Cali and the port of Buenaventura - isn't so much the draw, its the way you get there.  Since it sits in the middle of a protected area, the construction of roads is forbidden.  There is, however, a rail system.  The inventive people here have set up a system of rail carts called brujitas ("little witches") consisting of a wooden platform base, a bench, and a motorcycle with the front wheel bolted to the base and the back making contact with the rail.  Also, there is only one rail so as you go speeding through the jungle you just hope you don't encounter another brujita coming the opposite direction.

HONORABLE MENTION: Parque Santander in Leticia (Amazonas) at dusk when the parrots arrive, Cabo de la Vela (La Guajira), the "salt cathedral" of Zipaquira outside Bogotá, the caves and cliffs along the Pacific coast near Juanchaco, the main plaza of Villa de Leyva during Sunday market, the plaza outside of Medellín's Museo de Antioquia filled with Fernando Botero's statues, "el aquario" on Isla San Andrés, the San Juan hot springs in Puracé National Park (Cauca/Huila) and the ocean-filtered aquarium in the Islas Rosarios off the coast of Cartagena.

LIST #2: Top Five Favorite New Foods

1. Chontaduro or palm fruit.  There is nothing like this orange golfball-sized fruit found on many a street-vendor's cart in Cali and the southwestern part of Colombia.  With a texture like overripe squash and a taste I can't find a comparison to, it is often served soaked in honey and sprinkled with salt.

2. Guanábana or "soursop."  Rarely eaten whole, this watermelon-sized green fruit with menacing but harmless pinecone-like spines is usually made into a juice with milk.  I don't think I have ever passed this one up if it was a juice option.

3. Buñuelo.   The Colombian doughnut hole.  The recipe for breakfast bliss is cornmeal and campesino cheese deep fried to tennis ball-sized golden perfection.

4. Ajiaco. This delicious soup, endemic to the area around Bogotá, contains shredded chicken, cilantro, potatoes, yucca, a chunk of cobbed corn, capers, and sour cream served with a side of avocado and rice to add in later.  

5. Patacón.  Plantains deep fried, smashed flat, and deep fried again, then sprinkled with salt.  These are served as sides - sometimes as the "plate" itself when ordering fish dishes - and can be broken into smaller pieces like chips for dipping if thin enough.

HONORABLE MENTION: bandeja paisa, sancocho, arroz con coco y pasas, tamales, pandebono, almojabana, lulo juice, maracuyá juice, arequipe, and agua panela

LIST #3: Top Five Favorite Travel Moments

1. In a canoe, floating peacefully in the middle of the Yavari River after dark listening to our guide, Jhimmy, regale us with the indigenous legend of pink dolphin. (Technically this was in the Brazilian backwaters, but I got there by departing from Leticia, Colombia, so it counts.)  Between my then limited Spanish and our guide's non-English, it took awhile to decipher the tale, but in the end, it was a magical moment.

2. Drinking a pitcher of sangria atop the colonial wall surrounding the city of Cartagena, as dusk became dark, listening to the ocean and music of the caribbean with two good friends could not have been a better way to escape the heat of the day and reflect upon the adventures of this place, trapped in time gone by.

3. Hiking barefoot and occasionally swimming through a pitch-black cave located within the Reserva Rio Claro, located a short walk into the forest off the highway between Medellín and Bogotá, while some sort of large bird screamed and squawked in the echoey darkness.  Beginning with a swim across a river (losing my shoes in the process), a hike through the woods, then running downhill along a narrow path to avoid the biting ants, only to arrive at the aforementioned cave, which dumped us out into the river we originally crossed (see photo).

4. Running my first full marathon around Lago Calima (beginning and ending in the town of Darién) and subsequent other races in Pereira and Restrepo.  The Calima race was special as it was my first and, although small, I will always remember the excitement and support from my fellow racers and the beautiful rise and fall of the course as it circled and came back around Lake Calima.

5. Driving through the desert of La Guajira, stopping occasionally to chase cows or have an impromptu photo-shoot in a cactus grove, culminating with a stop at the beautiful Cabo de la Vela.  A desert might not seem like an enchanting place, but when it abuts to the magnificent blues of the Caribbean it becomes so much more than endless arid terrain. 

HONORABLE MENTION: riding horseback in the Valle de Cocora outside of Salento, kayaking the Pacific near Juanchaco, the Bogotá Beer Company tour, field trips to Isla Gorgona, being taken to our guide's home in San Agustín and being solicited to buy ancient indigenous artifacts that he and his cousin had grave robbed, struggling through cold and altitude sickness while climbing the Puracé Volcano.

____________________________

The section describing Cali in the "Lonely Planet: South America" guide book appropriately states that the city is "Colombia in your face: the attitude, heat, traffic, beautiful women, music, and food all join together in a delightful and dizzying way."  Appealing, yes, but the author goes on to accurately warn that "Cali needs you less than you need it."  The last two lists are dedicated to my newest adopted home, who I grew to like - and, on occasion, love.

LIST #4: Top Five Favorite Restuarants/Cafés 

1. Platillos Voladores - A fusion-style restaurant mixing local flavors with international cuisines, everything here is unique, giving your flavor pallet the kick it deserves from a good meal.  This restaurant lives up to its name, "flying saucers," as the food is definitely out of this world!

Recommended: Chontaduro Rolls, Lettuce Spring Rolls, Coffee Chicken, Guava Chicken, Pad Thai, and Tofu Encocado...but you really can't go wrong!

2. Crepes & Waffles - This Colombia-based chain restaurant would make a killing in the US.  Turning freshly made crepes and waffles into more than just a breakfast item, along with delicious salads and ice cream, this was a monthly staple during my time here. Also, the company's mission is to only hire single mothers as employees.  

Recommended: the Poblano, Mexicano, Serrano, Caprino, Ensalada Portofino, Ensalada Marroquí, (and for dessert) the Baby Doll and Cleopatra.

3. El Escudo del Quijote - I'm sad I didn't discover this until just this past year.  Located in barrio El Peñon a few blocks from the park, it has a moody and intimate atmosphere, very attentive service, and a relatively small Spanish-inspried menu that will not not disappoint, although it is admittedly challenging if you are a vegetarian.  

Recommended: Chontaduro Ravioli, Lomo pimienta, Smoked Salmon, and definitely order the "postre sopresa."  

4. Macondo Postres y Café - Located in the historic San Antonio neighborhood, this small corner establishment serves sandwiches, salads, and drinks in a cozy atmosphere perfect for chatting with a friend or reading a book.  There are also tons of weekly special events taking place, especially in the evenings, such as movie nights, poetry readings, and jazz sessions.  

Recommended: Enalada de la huerta, tuna sandwich, hamburguesa de la casa, coffee lemonade (seriously).

5. Juan Valdez Café - I had to include this on the Top 5 since I was essentially a "regular."  While I didn't sample a lot from the menu - café grande con leche and the hot chai were my only drink orders, really - the Unicentro and Granada locations often served as my weekend "office" for grading.  

HONORABLE MENTION - Il Forno, Obelisco, Tortelli's, Welcome, Monchis, Café del Sol, El Faro, Clown's Deli, Anttonina's, Route 66, Frijoles Verdes, El Arca, Bourbon Street, Pizza al Paso, Sansai Wok, Zahavi, Teatro Mágico del Sabor, and Primos

LIST #5: Top Five Things To Do In Cali (Other Than Eat)

1. Dance Salsa at Tin Tin Deo, Zaparoco, Tienda Vieja, or La Fuente.  Tin Tin Deo (San Fernando on the 5ta) is great if you want a learning curve and good air circulation.  Zaparoco (Centenario) if you want live music and don't mind sweating the minute you walk in the door. Tienda Vieja (Los Cambulos) usually has a live band, good picadas, and is large so you'll have plenty of space to dance, however you may not be in the same room as the band.  La Fuente (Granada) if don't mind small spaces and occasionally creepy dance partners (and sometimes dancing on the sidewalk).

2. Hike Tres Cruces on a Sunday morning (because there are lots of police then).  On one of the peaks surrounding Cali are a trio of crosses overlooking the city.  Begin near the statue El Gato along the Rio Cali in barrio Normandia, walk uphill into the condo-ed neighborhood, until pavement turns to gravel, which will turn to dirt.  At the top, along with a grand view of the city, you will be rewarded with vendors selling fresh fruit juices, cholados, and water; a make-shit gymnasium with concrete weighted barbells; and a church service under a tent (on Sundays).

3. A visit the Zoológico de Cali (Santa Rita) is one of nicest ways to pass an afternoon.  It is well-organized, easy to walk, has a diversity of regional and international wildlife, and situated on the edge of the city at the base of the farallones with one of Cali's seven rivers running through the middle of it.  For me, the giant anteater, capybaras, and little titi monkeys are worth the price of admission all by themselves!

4. Also on Sunday mornings, run, walk, or bike the "Ciclovida." While Medellín and Bogotá have a slightly better infrastructure for pedestrian/bike friendly activities, Cali gives it a try every week by closing down large stretches of road - usually a good chunk of the Autopista, but sometimes the Novena too - to get people out and about, promoting the city and good health.  There are controlled intersections, vendors, bike rentals (recent new feature), and the occasional free rumba, aerobics, and spin-classes set up under tents in the medians.  

5. In December, visit the alumbrado navideño along the Rio Cali.  As part of the Christmas season Feria de Cali, the river in the north of the city is decorated with millions of lights, all following a single theme, such as "the history of dance in Colombia" or "fairy tales and legends."  In the dark with the river serving as a constant soundtrack, the banks of the river turn into a magical place. 

HONORABLE MENTION: Picnic in Parque San Antonio, attend the Festival Petronio Álvarez in August and listen to the best Pacific music bands battle it out on stage over four days, swim in the Rio Pance above La Voragine, visit the Museo Tertulia, and watch a soccer game at the newly remodeled Estadio Olímpico Pascual Guerrero.

***BONUS LIST***

Top Five Things I Will Not Miss About Colombia

1. Missing toilet seats - I understand that some roadside rest stop or corner tienda's bathroom facilities may leave a little to be desired.  But I find it hard to accept that some upscale malls and very nice restaurants can't afford to supply toilet seats to their commodes.  Are toilet seats overly expensive in Colombia?  Are they more fragile here; epidemic of hard sitters, if you will?  If they're being stolen, I have three questions: (1) How?  (2) Is there a plethora of them in some of the poorer barrios? And (3) where exactly could I find this black market for toilet seats???  I have never received a convincing answer to this strange and annoying problem.
2. Taxi drivers who can't find things - The address system in all major Colombia cities is one of the most accurate in the world.  Calles run west to east increasing in number as they go; Carreras do the same north south. After the street number there is another set of numbers: the next cross street to the west/north followed by the number of meters said cross street is away.  My address was Carrera 65 #10-207, meaning my building was located on the 65th Carrera 207 meters from the 10th Calle.  Its like playing Battleship since your address is like a coordinate system.  Also, if you're a taxi driver it is your job to understand this.  I should not be explaining to you where a place is that I have never been to before; this is a problem for me.
3. Lines and the hypocrisy of line behavior - I found the amount and frequency with which I had to stand in lines in Colombia exhausting at times, but I assimilated to it.  It wasn't one of my favorite things, however, Colombians are generally patient and non-confrontational people who wait in lines well.  Except when they think it is completely acceptable to budge in front on the logic that they only have  "una poquita preguntica" (a little tiny question).  To top it off, nobody says anything to this person despite the fact that no one thinks this is okay.
4. Mio stations at rush hour - I have gone into this ad nauseum before, but goodbye and good riddance to blocked entryways, to crawling over stubborn aisle sitters, and to people who abruptly stop at the threshold of the bus.
5. "Cheese" - Chedder.  Swiss.  Parmesan.  Colby.  These are cheeses.  Campesino is not cheese.  I may have had an unfair bias coming from a dairy-rich part of the U.S. but after five years, I am only slightly more tolerant of this queso.

HONORABLE MENTION: My (physical) classroom and my land lady. 

*All photos were taken by me (or with my camera) except the one of "el infiernito" which I found online with no credit to it.

Desert Roads, Take Me Home

Part V of VI

El Transito winery

If I were to return to Argentina’s wine region and only visit one place, or advise anyone on a trip to this part of the country, it would be to go to Cafayate.  I would then stay awhile.

Cafayate is a quiet town located in the southern part of the Salta province.  Many tourists stop here for the afternoon on day trips from the city of Salta or just passing through.  The thing about Cafayate is that it is located in the stunningly beautiful Calchaquines Valley, surrounded by gently majestic sandy-brown and cobalt-hued mountains, clear skies (it is sunny 340 days a year), and the contagious ease of small town life.

We were fortunate enough to ride in the front of the bus on the 3 hour ride through the Quebrada Canyon from Salta to Cafayate.  Normally we all passed bus time reading or napping, but the closer we got to our destination, the more magnificent the scenery; it seemed rude to concentrate on anything else!

Through the Quebrada: Rob & Kristin take it all in

The Grape is Made of Wine

Another plus of visiting Cafayate if you want to learn about wine and wine production is that there are not only a large handful of vineyards within town limits – Mendoza’s were all a bikeable distance into the countryside – or right outside, but it is also home to the notable El Museo de la Vid y el Vino (Wine and Vine Museum).

"A man from the vineyards spoke, in agony... Before dying
he revealed his secret: The grape is made of wine.
And I thought, 'If the grape is made of wine, perhaps we
are the words that tell what we are.'"
~Eduardo Galeano

While I was mostly in awe over the intensity, attention to detail, and rigorous schedule a grape farmer must possess, I also walked away with a few other “did you knows?” including:

• The first vineyards in Chile and Argentina were started by Jesuit priests as a way to have a supply of wine for church services’ communions.
• Wine should be stored on its side so that the cork is in contact with both the wine itself and the air outside the bottle.  Its chemistry.
• Speaking of corks, the longer it is, the better quality the wine is (usually).
• Of the world’s productive wine-producing regions, Argentina has all of those located at the highest elevations.  (Malbec and Cabernet grape varieties, among other lesser known ones like Torrantes and Bonarda,  have become famous here because they grow best in such conditions.)
• The larger the vessel, the longer the wine will maintain its intended flavor.  So, therefore, mini-bar bottles of wine are risky.
  
  

Desert Fruits

If Argentina as a whole is famous for steak, Cafayate and the surrounding region are famous for their tasty empanadas.  We had read this somewhere prior to our visit so we saved extra room each day to sample as many kinds as we could.  My favorite, though I can happily claim that I never had a bad one, was filled with goat meat, cheese, and spinach.  I may have had three.

Wine-flavored
ice cream!

Rob and I also discovered a quaint little bakery down the road from our hostel that specialized in an Argentine favorite, the alfajor (say: al-fah-hor).  These exist in Colombia but consist of two wafer-thin crust-like cookies separated by a layer of dulce de leche (like arequipe or caramel) and are generally the size of a checker piece.  The Argentine variety is like a mini cake, with a generous layer of dulce de leche sandwiched between thick and generally spongy cookies, all covered in chocolate.  (Think of a Hostess brand Zebra Cake and imagine it five thousand times better.)  By the end of our short stay in Cafayate, the proprietor of the bakery knew us on site.

Beautiful Disaster

Our second day in Cafayate ended with the words “I may have done some foolish things today.”  While we all committed to renting bicycles for the day, my four travel companions decided to backtrack to the road through the Quebrada we came in on the day before and visit some of the spectacular canyon formations.  They hopped on a tour bus leaving town and were dropped off about 50 km later to begin the rolling journey back.

I, on the other hand, opted to visit an ancient archeological site known as Quilmes, named for the indigenous people who resided there back around the time the Incas were conquering South America.  The Quilmes are the only known population to have not been conquered, while remaining within Inca territory; the Incas just never found them!

The open road: so little traffic on the road I had plenty of time to set
up this self timed shot.  A blessing here, a curse later...

The lady at our hostel told me the ride would be “around 50 km round trip” and “very flat.”  After confirming this understanding with her again, and having the hostel janitor nodding in agreement behind her, I headed out with my two bottles of water, confident in the day ahead!  57 km later I arrived at Quilmes, convinced that this was not a matter of “lost in translation,” but sabotage.)

Quilmes

The site was what you would expect from an archeological site in the desert this old.  Hip-high walls of tightly packed rocks climbing a mild slope for a clear vantage point of the valley nicely summarizes the layout of what remains. 

My legs were already a little weak as I left the ruins at Quilmes; 57 km is a long way to bike after not having ridden since last summer.  About 20 km later, sun beating down, I realized this needed to end.  There are essentially two blink-and-you-miss-them towns along the way, open roads with few passing vehicles, and lots of hot, dry, sunny desert.  I stocked up on water at the first of the two towns and pushed on, literally. 

After about an hour of walking my bike up rises and coasting down declines, waving at passing vehicles (only non-cars since I had a bike), and thinking about how badly burned my exposed leg would be later, a nice farmer and his wife pulled their pick-up over on the side of the road and offered me a ride. 

What successful hitch-hiking looks like.

A little over six hours later I stumbled back into our hostel only to find the rest of my cohorts had also recently returned.  It turned out we had some similar experiences: Kelsi’s chain broke 2km into their day and she had to hail a passing La Posada tour van; Rob got behind Kristin and Narissa when his bike malfunctioned and ended up walking 25km.  Rob and I both learned that single male gringos with bikes on  the side of the road make people more inclined to wave but not stop.

Despite all this, pretty bad burn on my left leg and backs of my hands included, Cafayate won all of us over!

Beautiful Day

Cable car to the top of Cerro San Bernardo
overlooking the city of Salta

Part IV of VI
Next stop along our tour of Northwestern Argentina was the province of Salta (and a bit of the neighboring Jujuy).  Although the pleasant city of Salta, known to locals as "Salta la linda" (Salta the beautiful), has its share of sites and charms, it has found its calling mostly as a jumping-off point for travelers in this recently-discovered tourist area.  And much to see there is!

After close to 20 hours on an overnight Christmas Day bus we were ready for some activity.  Fortunately for the road-weary traveler, Salta has a large hill, complete with walking paths and stairs, to get the blood flowing back through the extremities!  From the Cerro San Bernardo we were able to take in the city and scope out some of the sites from above.  Salta has, among several intriguing cathedrals and a basilica, a beautiful European-esque central plaza replete with restaurants, gelato shops, cafés, and an abundance of places to sit and take it all in.

One side of Salta's Plaza 20 de Febrero

The following day we boarded a large La Posada van for a tour of some natural wonders in the neighboring Jujuy province.  After passing through a mountain pass where, local legand says a "bear with a man's face" called an ucumar lurks around looking for "virgin women to rape and make babies with," and eventually topping out at 4,170 meters above sea level, we arrived at our first destination.

The Salinas Grandes are naturally formed salt flats high in the mountains near the border of Bolivia.  They were formed when mineral-rich mountain run-off mixed with volcanic lava and the water evaporated, leaving a visually uninterupted flat expanse of land rich in minerals, including the blindingly white salt deposits.  While it was impressive to see, it was most fun to play with perspective through photography, something not easy to do believably on uneven terrain.

Salinas Grandes

"It's a beautiful day 
Sky falls, you feel like 

It's a beautiful day

Don't let it get away."

~U2

Somos cinco

Put me down!
Rob and I play with perspective.

Next up was the tiny time-trapped town of Purnamarca and the "hill of seven colors." This dusty little adobe bricked pueblo sits at the base of a whimsical hillside that looks as if a painter had run out of the traditional earthen tones and had to resort to others on their pallet.  This result is actually due to some shift in geologic layers, the minerals they each contain, and oxidation amounts of said layers.  (I very well could have gotten that all completely incorrect, but it sounds believable, right?!?)

The "hill of seven colors" towering over Purnamarca.

Purnamarca doorway

After a nice lunch - llama burger optional - we headed back toward Salta.  Despite the fact that about three quarters of the day was spent in the tour van, the stunning scenery along the way made it pass by quickly.  I had thought I had never seen mountains so spectacular in my life.  Little did I know that that would only be until the next day when we left for the under-spoken wine town of Cafayate at the southernmost end of the Salta province...

Deserted

Since the moment I first watched the music video which ran concurrently with Colombia's tourism campaign "Colombia es Pasion" almost four years ago I have wanted to visit the desertscape where it was filmed.  

Visiting the La Guajira region of Colombia takes some added time and effort however, as it is located in the northeastern-most part of the country, wedged between the Caribbean Sea and Venezuela.  La Guajira is also a gigantic desert and, possibly because of this fact, has little in the form of tourist infrastructure.  Better put: with poor roads and no mass transit system to speak of, it becomes exponentially more difficult to get around without your own vehicle.  Also, being situated in literally the opposite corner of the country from Cali, an extended vacation period is necessary to properly explore the area.

Los flamencos al Santuario

This Semana Santa (Holy Week/Spring Break) I decided to finally put a check mark in this travel box and spend a week in the desert.  Along with my friends Sam and Mandi we split our time between touring the unique features, cultures, and industry the land has to offer with a pre-arranged tour guide, and relaxing on the beautiful turquoise-watered beaches.

Our cabaña

Our tour began with a visit and overnight slay at El Santuario Flora y Fauna Los Flamencos, a nature reserve for thousands of flamingos, as well as a sea turtle rehabilitation center.  We stayed in a tiny cabin on an equally tiny island, complete with bats nesting in the eaves.  While they didn't enter the room, there was considerable chirping and rustling all night long and much guano on the porch come morning.  In this protected area, as is common in many protected wilderness areas of North America, are found one of the oldest native peoples in this region, the Wayuu (say "why-JEW").

All throughout the week we often heard people speaking Wayuunaiki and, aside from fishing and raising goats, the Wayuu people depend of the tourism industry to sell their one-of-a-kind brightly colored mochillas (shoulder bags) and woven bracelets.  While visiting one particular plan, or settlement, we were shown how they build their houses, discussed what the traditional family structure is like and how it has changed over the years, as well tasted some of their canela-fermented alcohol.  The girls were also given the opportunity to dress in one of the scarlet red fabric-filled ceremonial dresses used at many Wayuu festivals - difficult to put on in the ever-present desert wind.

A Wayuu girl displaying the ceremonial red dress.

Attempting amusement at the
coal mine. (Despite the safety
presumption, there was absolutely
no need for the hats and glasses
whatsoever.  None.)

The next day we toured north, past the largest city in the region, Riohacha, to visit a major source of employment and economy - the Cerrejón coal mine.  While the tour was militantly organized and moderately interesting, I'm not sure it was worth the two hours in entailed to essentially look at am impressively large hole in the ground and listen to a lot of propaganda about how environmentally friendly this coal mine is, regardless of its veracity.  

After a brief lunch stop in Uribia, the "indigenous capital of Colombia," we passed through the municipality of Manaure to see the salt flats which are used in the production of much of Colombia's salt business.  Essentially pumping sea water into these flat basins and allowing the water to then evaporate, leaving behind only rocks of salt crystals, the mineral is somehow "washed" numerous times and ends up in what, from a distance, look like the towering heaps of snow found at the end of a Target store's parking lot after the plows have cleared it following a blizzard.

Continuing northward, driving down what amounted to a dirt highway which ran parallel to the railroad tracks built solely to connect the aforementioned coal mine to the La Guajira's only port, Puerto Bolívar, we suddenly cut left down a small trail through a cactus grove composed of nothing more than deep tire grooves.  Shortly thereafter we emerged in the flattest expanse of non-water I've ever seen.  This "seasonal desert" was dry, cracked, a flat as a ruler.  During the winter months it floods from the sea and is impassable, but now, much like arctic truckers crossing the ice and snow on spontaneous roads, so was this short-cut.

Since we didn't have to take the highway the long way around we reached the poster city of Cabo de la Vela, a remote picturesque fishing community, with daylight to spare.  Set in a bay of sorts, the immediate area is perfect for kite-surfing and not far away is gorgeous beach, tucked down between the rocky desert cliffs that meet the Caribbean.  This is obviously where we spent a considerable amount of time the next day.  This is also where I got a considerable sunburn on my stomach and shoulder blade areas, as well as my shins and tops of my feet; a former beach life guard should know better.

The classic Cabo de la Vela shot - Spanish for "Cape of the Sail."

Back in Riohacha we enjoyed the fact that our hotel was the essentially the best lodging option in the entire city, though is would barely be able to compete with a roadside Motel 8 in Florida as far as construction and amenities go.  We were, however, given complimentary tented shade on the beach in front, as well as served lunch under said tent complete with wooden table, table cloth, and bow-tied smiling waiter.  Shrimp rice, grilled goat, and sangria never tasted so good!

Plaza in Riohacha

In the evenings we would usually walk along the malecón, or boardwalk, between the beach and the Avenida del Mar, sifting through and admiring the plethora of Wayuu-crafted mochillas littering the sidewalk.  Some are patterned, most are colorful, but they are all unique and different.  Together we purchased six bags, as well as a few other local handicrafts.  (After four years of living here and traveling throughout Latin America, you start to see many of the same artisanal wares, but these were unique and different, making coming to La Guajira a great shopping destination as well.)

Our final full day of vacation we headed to a beach about half an hour's taxi ride north of Riohacha called Mayapo, which we found out about from a friendly cab driver who offered to shuttle us there and back for USD $30.  Mayapo turned out to be the place to be, filled with families and tourists alike, all enjoying the start to the long holiday weekend, the white sand beach, the steady ever-present breeze, and multi-hued blue of the sea.  

Mandi and me amidst the sea of Wayuu-made mochillas.

Going to La Guajira was like traveling to another world apart from Colobmia.  Between the arid landscape, the abundance of sea food, lack of many of the fresh fruits we have become spoiled by, wandering goats, and slow drivers who actually stop for and yield to pedestrians, La Guajira full-filled my every expectation.  Visually stunning in its own way, peaceful and understated, I hope to be able to return one day and discover more of its desert's secrets.

Heladeros (ice cream vendors) on the beach.