Costeño Beach - The Land of the Lotus Eaters

I often compare my travels to Ulysses's journey in the Odyssey, except without the Penelope and way more Calypsos (you're damn right I just made an Odyssey sex joke). For those who filled their brains with slightly more useful information than epic Greek poems, the land of the lotus eaters is one of the islands where Ulysses and his men stopped to resupply. On this island grew a special kind of lotus flower, which, upon ingestion, caused the consumer to forget all cares, worries, and every other preoccupation except the desire to eat more. Because Ulysses wanted to get the fuck home he promptly ordered his men back on the boat and bounced. Costeño Beach is the land of the lotus eaters.

First let me be clear, Costeño Beach is awesome. Had I gone straight there after arriving in Colombia I almost certainly would have stayed for over a month. Instead, I discovered this grotto after two months of punishment on the Gringo trail, which while indescribably fun is the antithesis of productivity. After a week I would crack and spontaneously buy a plane ticket to Salento just to escape.

It started innocently enough. Eric, our Colombian friend Keysha, and I took a shuttle to Santa Marta, a reasonably sized, more touristy beach city a few hours east of Barranquilla. Santa Marta itself is a rather forgettable city with mediocre beaches, but it is right next to Tacanga (dusty town with nicer beaches) and serves as the jumping off point for treks to the Lost City (essentially a jungle Machu Picchu). The day after we arrived I decided to explore the mountain town of Minca, a 30 minute jeep ride into the Sierra Nevadas, while Eric and Keysha headed to the beach. In Minca I met another Australian who was also driving a van from Canada to Argentina, and it was he who told me of Costeño. If traveling has taught me any life lessons, it is that you can't go wrong with Australians driving vans down South America.

To get there you take an hour bus ride past the famous Tayrona National Park and get dropped off in what appears to be a random dirt road. Hike a good 30 minutes hike down the road parallel to the ocean and you have arrived.

At Costeño there are no worries. The lifestyle was very similar to Kamala hostel in Montanita except here there was no reason to leave. There is a set menu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the beers are cheap and served 24/7, and everything is paid for via tab. Surf lessons are offered twice a day in the morning and early afternoon, although I was never ambitious enough to wake up anytime near 8:30am and by the afternoon any serious movement seemed way too aggressive. Essentially life consists of waking up and having fun... that's about it.

I did do at least one organized activity there and it was without a doubt the best afternoon I have had on this trip. About twenty of us piled into the back of a truck and rode 45 minutes to a jungle trail. After picking up the necessary supplies (and inner tubes) at the nearby shop we trekked through a very mountainous jungle until arriving at the river. I never would have guessed such a simple act of sitting in an inner tube and floating down a river could be so much fun, but it truly was amazing. You slowly meander through lush forest, the crisp water a perfect complement to the radiant sunshine, hearing no other sound besides the laughter of friends. There might have been one or two beers as well. We unfortunately learned an invaluable life lesson in the most miserable of ways possible: full bottles of rum do not float. But the loss of a dear friend only brought the group closer together and we finished the journey all smiles.

Look, I have nothing really bad to say about Costeño; it is an amazing place and I truly enjoyed my time there. Clearly the lotus flower is delicious. But after a week of that place in addition to Carnival and the rest of my Colombian adventures I just needed a change. Back in Santa Marta we bought tickets to fly to the coffee country for some refreshing mountain air. My time on the Colombian coast had come to an end.

Hitting the Books, Colombian Style

With Carnival over Eric and I stuck around Barranquilla for a few days to regain our bearings. Our new Colombian friends were students at one of the local universities and we got to explore a day of Barranquilla college life. Obviously I haven't seen very many universities around South America but here is what I've learned through some observation and many talks with travelers:

College is certainly different than what we experienced in the states. First, no one else in the world calls it college, it is University or Uni for short (in Spanish "Universidad)." On-campus living is virtually non-existent - some students share apartments around the area but most people commute from home. I don't have any hard statistics but the student populations tend to be much smaller - there are very, very few universities with the mega-populations like UCLA, U-Michigan, etc. With no dorms to occupy space and less students, the campuses more closely resemble high schools rather than the picturesque frisbee-throwing quads that we are accustomed to. And, most interestingly, the highly prestigious and selective universities are the public schools: the top students compete for virtually free government-subsidized education while the private schools will take anyone that can pay the fees. Again there are always exceptions, I am sure there are some lovely dorms in a prestigious private university somewhere in South America, but that is not the norm.

Eric and I enjoyed a fun tour around campus. If it wasn't obvious enough we were required to wear a visitor's badge (student IDs were checked at each gate entrance).

On our tour we spotted a flyer for a delightful field trip. What better place to spend Sprang Break than Washington DC!

And here is a classroom:

After a tough day at school we were famished. As I mentioned way back in Bolivia, the nuances of Mexican cuisine remain a mystery to most South Americans. Naturally we had to enlighten our new friends to the deliciousness of chicken quesadillas.

Last random note. This happened a few days later but doesn't really fit with the next blog entry so I'm putting it here. We went to the beach one day and saw this awesome ice-cream man. Unfortunately I was into week 2 of giving up sweets so didn't get to sample to goods but he deserves a billablog shoutout.

                             

Carnival - Enough Said

From Montanita we headed to Cuenca, probably the nicest South American city I have ever seen. Usually you see some sort of dilapidation in the architecture, stray dogs roaming around, or at least some sign that you are in Latin America, but none of that was to be found. I only spent a few days here and honestly didn't do much worth writing about, but I will be back at some point with a more detailed description of the city.

I said goodbye to my travel family and began my 3-plane hop back to Colombia for Carnival. The port city of Barranquilla is Colombia's most famous Carnival destination and alledgedly South America's second most famous spot after Rio. After 4 days in Barranquilla I'm not quite sure what more Rio could offer. I still aspire at some point in my life to secure formal employment, so unfortunately I cannot provide many pictures or a play by play description of the bacchanal. But here is an idea of how it went down.

It was a party the moment I stepped off the plane. Scantily clad women were handing out free beer on the way to the baggage claim. Tables of aguardiente shots (miserable tasting Colombian licorice alcohol) lined the exit like water stands in the middle of a race. Other less-than-clothed females danced by the taxi stand. You get the idea.

I managed to convince my three best friends from home, Eric, Matt, and Gor, to meet me in Barranquilla for the festivities. I arrived a few hours before them and relaxed in the luxury of the only hotel we could book for the night.

They arrived late in the evening and we enjoyed a relatively quiet night of catching up, allowing the storm to build. The next morning we trekked to our base camp down the road and settled in for the next four days.

First thing we did was pick up supplies. Staying in a hotel eliminated the possibility of cooking but snacks were a necessity to bridge the gap between meals.
                                           
                                             

                                             

Fully stocked, we headed back to enjoy the hotel pool. From here on out it is probably best to offer a series of observations:

Tropical destinations lack distinct seasons - there is usually just a rainy season and a dry season but little fluctuation in temperature, foliage, etc. Carnival exhibits a similar phenomenon: day and night cease to exist as normally defined entities but rather exist as a continuous stream of time.

Carnival can best be described as a free for all. The streets are flooded with people of all ages singing, dancing, and of course consuming libations. Vendors sell giant canisters of foam and packets of flower and everyone is fair game to be drenched. To be fair, there are a few organized parades with floats but we elected to skip those in favor of the streets.

Carnival's anthem was "El Serrucho," the Spanish word for "saw" with double entendre phallic connotations. Every few hours the song would blast and everyone in the street started singing and dancing. Hold out your left arm, pretend to saw it with your right, and you can dance like a Colombian. We were welcomed into these dancing circles with open arms and often posed for pictures. We actually never saw any other gringos throughout the entire carnival, although I did end up meeting quite a few who said they went so we must have just missed them.

Our hotel had a wonderful deserted rooftop that looked out upon the whole city, perfect for enjoying the sunset.

The pinnacle of the trip was certainly our second to last night. The previous evening we befriended a group of Colombian ladies. We agreed to meet up the next day with the promise of a beach bungalow discoteca - Kilymandiaro - a little ways outside the city. This was probably the most surreal experience I've had on my travels - sometimes it was difficult to tell if we were in Kilymandiaro or on the set of a movie. Multiple DJs dropped continuous beats while groups of the most beautiful people I have ever seen danced for what had to have been at least 6 straight hours.

All too quickly the chaos came to an end. Matt and Gor headed back to the US and Eric and I continued on our Colombian adventures. An unforgettable four days.

Montanita - Beach Living

Next stop after Baños was Montanita, a small beach town 3 hours north of Ecuador's largest city, Guayaquil. There were no direct buses from Baños but we found a night bus to take us to Santa Elena, an easy hour shuttle away from the beach. Unfortunately our bus decided it wanted to take a nap around 4:30am and the substitute bus was only going as far as Guayaquil. Still, our journey went remarkably smoothly - we waited for less than 10 minutes for a fresh bus to pick us up, the driver of our bus walked our group to the ticket booth in Guayaquil and purchased our tickets to Santa Elena, and 5 minutes later we were on our way. Well done Ecuadorian bus company.

When we stepped off the bus in Montanita we were greeted by a blast of beach heat and quickly changed into proper attire. Montanita is tiny - maybe 5 square blocks - and after a quick walk we had scoured its entirety and reserved a room for the night. We had been told of a beach oasis with cheap bungalows a little ways outside of town but since it was off the grid of the normal hostal-booking sites we needed a day to scope it out. A few of the other guys in our group confirmed this place did indeed exist and reserved our spots for the next 5 nights. With the logistics taken care of, all there was left to do was enjoy the beach!

               

              

I had actually been to Montanita 6 years ago to visit my cousin who ran a hostel there and it was amazing to see the development since. Dirt roads and a smattering of backpacker hostels have exploded into a bonanaza of bars, restaurants, and discotecas. Despite all the changes the hostel still stands!

2008

2014

We arrived at the beach bungalow hostel, Kamala, the next day, and to be completely honest my initial reaction was disappointment. I knew that the rumored $5/night bungalow right on the beach was too good to be true but I couldn't help get my hopes up just a bit. Accommodation was indeed $5/night but those were for dorm beds - a bungalow went for $50/night. And we were a few minute walk down an overgrown path to the beach - still incredibly close but not quite the same as watching the waves from your window.

But the longer we stayed there the more I appreciated how awesome Kamala really was. Perks like super fast wifi and hot water were incredibly unexpected, Santiago the host cooked a tasty breakfast, and best of all there was nobody else there besides our group until the last night. Santiago even managed to secure us a few cases of beer even though the entire country was dry for election weekend.

We ended up all piling into one bungalow to have our own space.

Santiago was very accommodating and added a bunch of double mattresses so we could all squeeze in. Despite the tight quarters I had some of my best sleeps on that lovely blue floor mattress.

And a lovely outdoor shower with piping hot water!

Days at Kamala can best be described as casual. Wake up, have breakfast, hang out in the shade, play ping pong, lounge around, consider walking to get lunch, jump in the ocean, hop in a hammock, more lounging. That is about it.

Frolicking in the waves at sunset was a must. And it was oddly reassuring that some things remain equally entertaining whether you are 5 or 25.
               
               

At night we would head to town to visit the sea of street vendors for empanadas, plates of meat and rice, and even burritos.

                         

5 days melted away, but I had to get to Cuenca to catch my flight back to Colombia for Carnival. I said goodbye to most of the group - they understandably stayed behind for a few extra beach days - but for once I had a schedule to follow.

Banos - Adventure Capital of Ecuador

From Quito it was on to Baños, a small town nestled at the base of an active volacano. Aside from the hot springs from which it gets its name, Baños is renowned for its multitude of adventure activities. These include: white-water rafting, bungee jumping, mountain biking, zip-lining, hiking, and my personal favorite, canyoning. Getting to Baños was an easy 4 hour bus ride, my first bus since Cuba. The van is clearly my preferred method of transportation but it was nice to just sit back and have no responsibility with navigation, advising when to pass, random speed bump monitoring, etc.

The most difficult part of Banos is deciding which activity to do first. We reunited with our Salento/Cali/Otavalo travel family who had booked rafting the next morning, so that was up first. Rafting is one of the simplest activities in the world and a perfect example of how stupid people can be when they panic. The guide tells you to either paddle forward, backward, or do nothing. If you fall out keep your feet pointed down-river so they don't catch on any hidden rocks and hold onto your paddle so you can be pulled back into the raft. That's it. The two people in front need to sync their paddling cadence, but all everyone else needs to do is match the person in front of you. We had a particularly moronic group who clunked paddles the second we hit any sort of big water and two people involuntarily pressed the eject button to go swimming in the rapids. Still, everyone managed to have a good time, and I can't complain about $25 for a full morning of action.

The next day we rented mountain bikes for a very comfortable all-downhill ride to a giant waterfall. Along the way we stopped for a 1km zipline. 2 minutes later, we were strapped into harnesses and flying down the mountain. A friendly man picked is up in his truck at the bottom, drove us back to the top, and we were on our way again.

                                  

Waterfalls are probably my favorite natural marvel to visit and this one did not disappoint. There were actually two entrances run by two separate businesses - one at the base and one at the top - and we splurged the $1.50 to visit both.

                

When we were ready to head back to Baños we hopped into the back of a truck with our bikes and napped the 30 minutes back up the hill. Not a bad system.
If you ever get the chance to do canyoning, do it. It is one of the best outdoor activities you can do. Imagine a collection of jumps, rappels, and natural slides down a series of waterfalls, surrounded by lush, vibrant jungle, and you've got the right idea. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures from this specific adventure but here are a few from Bali last summer.

Our final activity was the most relaxing: a swing. But this wasn't just any old swing, this was a swing at the end of the world! Not quite, but it was fun to swing off of a cliff at sunset.

See that volcano in the background? Turns out it was feeling frisky that afternoon, and we were treated to a giant smoke-eruption.

Quito - Goodbye to the Van

We packed up the van one last time and headed to Quito, a quick 3-hour jaunt south on a delightfully paved 3-lane highway. Along the way we stopped at the equator for a photo-op and a science experiment. Who knew the Coriolis effect actually worked?

We only spent a few days in Quito but from the limited time we did spend it was quite enjoyable. Our first 2 nights were in the Mariscal district, a gringo-ed out 5 square block corral filled with hostels, bars, and every type of western food you could imagine. Lucky for us it was 25-cent wing Wednesdays.

Aside from gorging on fowl phalanges we kept the activities to a minimum. Pete and I got haircuts, Caroline did some shopping, and we all caught up with the outside world. I was last in Quito in 1999 and one of my distinct memories as a 9-year-old was the cafe The Magic Bean. Other memories include: putting popcorn into cream of asparagus soup; seeing A Bug's Life in Spanish at a movie theater; reading about 10 Redwall books; watching the Vikings lose to the Falcons in the NFC Championship game followed by a fruitless search for a place to watch the Super Bowl; and finally, passing a communal, Big Gulp sized beer to the person next to me in the bleachers at an Ecuadorian soccer game. Needless to say, I was happy to see an old childhood landmark.

All too quickly the final morning arrived. We piled into the van for a farewell voyage through town, Pete dropped us off in the historic district, and after a misty-eyed hug it was gone (see the tribute to the van at the bottom).

Caroline and I explored the historical district of Quito the rest of the afternoon.

                                    

The highlight by far was the few hours we spent at Bandido Brewing, a micro-brewery run by 3 American guys in their mid-20s. They had previously run a hostel but got tired of the same watery Ecuadorian Pilsener every night, and with zero brewing experience taught themselves everything and opened Bandido last year. Aside from the delicious Amber, Porter, and Passionfruit Cider I sampled, it was quite inspiring to see a group of friends actually commit to something they wanted to do. I've lost count of the conversations I've had about opening bars, hostels, websites, and a random assortment of wacky ideas that died when we went to bed that night. Hats off to the Bandido Bros for making it happen.

Alright, tribute to the van time. I cannot express how happy and fortunate I am to have met Pete and ridden in that glorious grey Odyssey. We descended through the entirety of Colombia and the northern part of Ecuador together and each day was an adventure. Like in college (or at least like my college experience), while traveling you meet many pleasant people and have numerous acquaintances but only keep a few true friends; Pete will be a lifelong friend. The experience further reinforces the incredible power of spontaneity while traveling alone: I woke up that morning in Cartagena with one plan, saw another that looked more interesting, and 30 minutes later I had launched into 3-week unforgettable journey. Sometimes it's not the worst idea in the world to get into a van with a stranger.

Cali, Crossing the Border, and on to Ecuador

The next few weeks after Salento were a series of short, 2-3 day stops as we made our way across the border into Ecuador. While each of these places had its endearing qualities only Cali and Otavalo deserve special mention. I'm also incredibly behind on these posts and am never going to catch up unless I gloss over some of the more mundane adventures.

The Canadian girls took an early exit from Salento, leaving our van with the all-star team of myself, Pete, and Caroline. This would be our crew until a tearful departure in Quito two weeks later. Cali was only a 3 hour drive and we made quick work of the multi-lane, newly paved highways.

In all fairness to Cali, any place that we went after Salento was going to be a letdown. And we really never gave it much of a chance staying only two nights with little exploration. But Cali was not my favorite place of the trip.

If there has been a theme of South America so far it has been how incredibly nice everything has been. Cali was the first city that felt like how you might think a South American city would be - crowded, dilapidated, with a noticeable edge at night. Again this could have just been the area we were staying at and I really did not explore beyond a 10-block radius, but that was the general vibe.

With that out of the way, I did have one of my favorite nights of the trip there. Cali is known as the salsa capital of the world and it certainly did not disappoint in that department. Unfortunately there are no pictures, but our second night we ventured to a nearby salsa club for an incredible night of dancing. There was a good mix of tourists and locals and it was arguably more fun to watch some of the incredible couples twirl and glide about. At one point the entire club was salsa line-dancing, maybe my single favorite 10-minute snippet of the entire trip.

We left Cali for a two-day slog to the Ecuadorian border. We spent one night at another less-than-immaculate roadside motel and splurged on a very nice room in Pasto to wash the previous night away.

Aside from a quick jaunt once to Tiajuana I'd never crossed a border under my own power. Pete had warned of miserable checkpoints greased by hefty bribes in Central America, so we braced ourselves for a long day. Fortunately this one was easy -- we breezed through the Colombian immigration and car inspection and were only held up about 30 minutes in Ecuador as we scrambled to find an open photocopy shop for Pete's papers. With everything checked out we headed for Otavalo.

Otavalo rivals Salento for its beauty. Situated in the mountains a few hours outside of Quito, Otavalo is best known for its Saturday animal market that draws farmers from all over northern Ecuador. Unfortunately we were a day late for the market, but we still managed to have a good time.



For the most part we just enjoyed the nature: hikes to waterfalls, and lounging in hammocks, and looking out over this sweet land pier.

Otavalo also solidified the union of two groups into one travel family. As I mentioned earlier travelers tend to coalesce when on the same route. In Salento we met a group of 3 friends from Minnesota and a solo French backpacker who had joined together. We saw each other again in Cali and this marked the third time we had all stayed at the same hostel. For the next three weeks we would see each other at just about every place we went.



The hostel, Rose Cottage, was a series of small houses scattered across a grassy plateau.

With the exception of one elderly couple, the only residents of the hostal were our travel family, the 

staff, and this guy who followed us around everywhere.

The dormitory was its own building, and with no one else around we essentially had our own house for a few days. Our last night we enjoyed a relaxing family dinner of chicken quesadillas and the Emperor's New Groove.

These are the kind of views that you never grow tired of, but it was time to head to Quito and say goodbye to the van.