Bariloche

The “Camino de los Siete Lagos” (or 7 Lakes Route) supposedly ends (or begins) in Villa de la Angostura, but continuing south you will find the popular ski and hiking city of Bariloche on the southern side of the beautiful lake Lake Nahuel Huapi. Located within the National Park with the same name (Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi), Bariloche is situated on the lake and surrounded by beautiful forests, mountain-like hills, streams, and other lakes – a paradise for hikers, rock climbers, kayakers, wind surfers, and anyone who loves to visit the outdoors and see breath-taking landscapes.

 

Besides being blown away by its amazing lakeshore view, my first impression of Bariloche was that it reminded me of Boulder, Colorado. I guess I wasn’t too far off because I was told it’s sister cities with Aspen. On one hand, the local feel was that it was full of outdoor enthusiasts and also had a pretty big hippy-like culture. At the same time, it was very much a tourist town,* with streets lined with businesses of all kinds, but a very notable amount of outdoor clothing and equipment shops, tourist information, health food stores, and chocolate shops. That’s right, Bariloche is also known across Argentina not only for its skiing but for its chocolate!

 

The city extends along the southern side of the lake Nahuel Huapi for about 20 km towards the peninsula and the city park Llao Llao, with unlimited beautiful sites to see along the way. Some of the most popular include visiting beaches along one of the lakes, climbing to the top one of the many hills that offer incredible views of the area, hiking through different trails in the park or around the lakes, visiting an old Swiss colony, or just exploring the city center.

 

I happened to arrive for International Women’s Day, so there was a march through the city, ending in the plaza (which looks out over the lake). I caught the end of it in the plaza when there were still around 100 people – men, women, and children – gathered, holding banners and signs, wearing green handkerchiefs,** and cheering as speakers spoke about the progress that had been made in human rights and the set-backs and modern-day challenges that Argentina faced currently. While the focus was on women’s rights and issues – domestic violence, freedom to legal and safe abortions, equal opportunities and pay – I was impressed that they chose to be inclusive and talk about basic human rights in general, bringing attention to injustices harming indigenous communities, impoverished communities, and LGBT+ persons.

 

The days were beautiful, with full sunshine that felt like summer during mid-day and cooled off quickly when the sun started to go down. There was always an energy buzzing as the streets, parks, beaches, and buses (“colectivos”) were full of people out to enjoy the outdoors – many that lived in the area but also a ton of people on vacation from Buenos Aires. The great thing about Bariloche is there are a ton of day hikes you can do and places you can visit and enjoy in just one day or a half day. But there are also a few overnight hiking and camping adventures, like Refugio Frey or climbing El Cerro Tronodor, which is on the border with Chile.

 

I barely got a chance to scratch the surface of all the popular places to visit, but each day I hopped on the city bus to go explore a new place.

 

First, I headed off to Cerro Campanario, where, (similar to Monserratte in Bogotá and Cerro San Bernardo in Salta), there was a teleferico (ski-lift-like cable car) that you could take up to the top of the hill overlooking the city.

Or, you could take the walking path and hike up to the top. (It was in this hike, where I ran into my friends the San Juaninos, Liliana and Edgardo!)

From the top, there was almost a 360-degree view of Lake Nahuel Huapi on one side, and the hills, forest and other lakes on the other side.

There was a beautiful overlook point with chairs, where people were sitting and staring out over the lake, just drinking in the beautiful view. A family came, and the mom had prepared a cake and pretended to sell it to her three kids, “charging” them each a few pesos.

 

Another day, I took a 40-minute bus ride out to the Municipal Park Llao Llao, about a 20-minute walk from the last bus stop where they leave you at Hotel Llao Llao.

There are a ton of trails in this park and you could spend all day exploring all the different nooks and crannies or just take a leisurely hike along one of the trails.

I spent most of the day walking around Lago Moreno, and incredibly serene and gorgeous lake that I just couldn’t stop taking photos of.

 

Interestingly enough, I would be spending about a month in quarantine at the opposite end of this lake (not visible from where I was because it is quite large).

Famous Footnotes:

*A huge part of the economy is based around tourism, including the winter ski season. Many friends I met were guides.

**The green bandana is a symbol representing women’s rights and specifically a call for safe and legal abortion as an option for women. As I mentioned in a previous post, it is currently a hot topic and many people brought it up in conversations we had.

The Heart of “La Ruta 40” – Part III: Mendoza’s Patagonia

I was heading south through “Mendoza’s Patagonia,” – the part of Argentina in the province of Mendoza that is located just north of the “official” Patagonia, which starts in the province of Neuquen. (I may have made up the term “Mendoza’s Patagonia” but it works.)

I had heard that the Patagonia is known for being more expensive than the north of Argentina, except for gas prices, because it is the major fossil fuel production region of Argentina. So it wasn’t so surprising that one of my first encounters was a guy about my age that worked in oil and gas. Martín lived in Buenos Aires but worked for an oil and gas company that was paying for him and his family to live in Malargüe, and they had been there for about a year. Those perks came at a price though because he said that weekend was going to be the first weekend he had off of work in the whole month.

Later I met Claudia, one of those unique and wonderful people that I connected with in a special way despite the fact that we were very different. I immediately recognized that she had a kind spirit, complemented by a strong personality, with a subtle hint of underlying anxiety.

She is a teacher in the tiny town of Ranquil Norte but lives in Malargüe (about 3-4 hours away). During the school year she stays the week in Ranquil Norte, living with a family there, and then takes the bus to be in Malargüe with her husband for the weekends.

Her husband just retired and didn’t know what to do with himself since she’s still working, so was coaching him through it (“you can visit your kids, go see new places, and when I retire we’ll go see new places, and sometimes just go to the park and drink mate”). Because she’s a teacher in a rural area, she’ll get to retire in a couple of years too. In Argentina, men retire at 65 and women at 60, but for teaching in a rural area one can retire a few years early.

Claudia taught me the proper way to pour hot water into the mate (“mah-tay“), because there is a technique that seems to be common across all of Argentina, and as her co-pilot, I was responsible for keeping the mate filled. She had a special electric mate that I had never seen before – it could be kept warm by plugging it in to the cigarette lighter in the car.

As we got to know each other, Claudia shared some personal stories about a rough and abusive young adulthood that she had ultimately overcome to find a peaceful and healthy life with her current husband. However, she confided in me, something had recently triggered some of her past traumas to resurface and she was working through them now (which might have explained the nervousness I sensed in her). She used a really great analogy that stuck with me. “Sometimes we do a good job of cleaning up the house and keeping it well maintained, but we left that one room in the back of the house with all the junk in it, locked up. Well, now is the time where I have to open up that room and start cleaning it out.”

One of the reasons we connected well was because we both really love writing, and she is the second person in my life that has told me that everyone should write a book in their life.*

We passed incredible landscapes of mountains, hills, and volcanoes. In fact, I couldn’t believe the number of volcanoes I saw off off to the left as we were heading south! I pulled out my map and realized that we were in fact passing through the Land of the Volcanoes. (I made that term up. If you look on a map, there is one area along the highway teeming with volcanoes, so it seems appropriate.)

The volcanoes are located in an area that has been named a provincial reserve called La Payunia, and includes more than 800 volcanic cones. (As a traveler one learns that there is no possible way that you can see everything that you want to see, and so this one was one of those places added to the list for future exploration.) But along the road, we could see huge black rocks – clearly dried lava from a past eruption, and even a canyon made of black lava rock.

 

In Ranquil Norte, the only place to get wifi was in the municipality building, so I headed there to log my whereabouts. The municipal building was basically a house – with kitchen, rooms with bunk beds, and a reception area. Since it is such a small town, people from the district municipality often come through and spend the night there as they make their way around the different rural towns administering services. I had arrived just as a group of three guys from the district municipality had grilled out for lunch and they invited me to share the “asado” (sausage and steak cooked on the grill) with them.

 

Along the highway I had seen quite a few bikers, and when I got to Chos Malal, I actually got the pleasure of meeting one of them. Dario is from Rosario and works with water pumps in high-rise buildings and had taken a month-long vacation on his motorcycle to explore the south. He had hesitated about doing something so “selfish”, but his (grown) children had encouraged him to do it. He said he was glad he had listened to them because it had been an incredible experience. Although he had had his moments of doubts that very same day.

That day we had passed a long section (more than an hour) of road that was not paved. Even Claudia in her pickup truck was really nervous about driving on that part, so I wasn’t surprised to hear that on a motorcycle it was tough. Apparently, it was so tough that Dario even asked himself a multiple times what he had been thinking and doubted if he would make it through. But he got through it and at the end of the day he was glad he had survived it and had overcome the challenge to be able to continue his journey and arrive in that cute little town of Chos Malal.

Chos Malal is located where “Neuquen” is written on the map. (Source: Wikipedia)

 

In addition to being a cute town, Chos Malal is the half-way point along La Ruta 40, which connects the northern border of Argentina (in the city of La Quiaca) with the southern-most part of Argentina to el Cabo Virgenes.

Most travelers who want to visit the Argentinian Patagonia take a flight to Bariloche, El Califate, or Ushuaia. After-all, the distances in Argentina are long – crossing Argentina from north to south is about the same distance as crossing the length of the US from east to west. (The journey I was taking, from Jujuy in the north to Ushuaia in the south, along La Ruta 40, is about 5,000 km or 3,100 mi – the equivalent of driving from Augusta, Maine to Los Angeles, CA.)

Spoiler alert: I only ever made it into northern Patagonia, but I don’t regret any minute of it! Stay tuned for the last chapter of my journeys along La Ruta 40.

Famous Footnotes

*Maybe this will one day turn into a book, but for now, here is my story in bite-sized pieces.

The Heart of “La Ruta 40” – Part II: Malargüe

Heading south from Mendoza along “La Ruta 40”, one passes through Malargüe, which is a small, enchanting little town, where I met some really wonderful people.

Guillermo is an agricultural engineer that lives in Malargüe and runs a farm that grows potatoes and garlic. He is involved in the Workaway program and hosts travelers from all over the world that help out on the farm and stay for free at his place. He also happens to teach at one of the rural schools and is doing a project with his students where they make potable water by evaporating water in a green-house-like system, capturing and condensing the vapor.

Headed south towards Malargüe, we travel parallel to the cordillera (mountain range) that divides Argentina and Chile, with an amazing view of those majestic mountains out the passenger side window.

For some reason, the movie “Alive” about the rugby team whose airplane crashed into the snowy mountains came to mind. Moments later, Guillermo pointed to one of the peaks saying that it was the mountain where the Uruguay rugby team crashed! (I have no idea how my brain made that association; the subconscious is a powerful thing!) He went on to explain that if they had walked towards the Argentine side of the mountain, it would have actually been a shorter and easier hike to salvation, but they had no idea from where they were and they hiked through the toughest and longest part towards Chile.

That afternoon, I came across this great little spot along the highway, kind of in the middle of nowhere, called Manqui Malal. I went to investigate and found that it was a privately-owned conservation area. There was a restaurant, a campsite, and a few cabins, and they offered guided tours of the surrounding canyon-like area. And there were dogs, sheep, and chickens wandering around. Exactly the type of place where I wanted to stay! #eco-tourism!

Luckily, I had arrived just in time for the afternoon guided tour! I didn’t have time to store my things in the cabin, but they assured me it was safe to just leave them there in the restaurant. It may seem like a crazy thing to do – to trust strangers in the middle of place where you’ve never been before. But I got such a good vibe from the staff and the family eating there in the restaurant, and having had such good experiences in all the small, rural towns I’d been through, I actually felt completely comfortable trusting people here.

The guide was a young woman who did an awesome job explaining the different rock formations we saw – how they were formed and where they fit into the history of the Earth.

 

I was not the only participant on the tour – there was a woman and a man about my age and three kids between 5 and 10 years old. I could not believe it when I learned that the woman was an American from Minnesota! She had lived in Argentina for about 7 years, married an Argentine man and they were currently living in MN but visiting Argentina for about a month. I could not believe that I had run into another American in this tiny little spot on the side of the highway (not even a major tourist attraction) in the middle of Argentina!

As we explored the area and hiked to a waterfall, I chatted with the American woman. Her kids were growing up speaking Spanish and English and they were doing homeschool. (In retrospect, I realize that the social distancing measures must not be impacting their lessons!) She explained that she really loved the experience of home schooling so far, especially because they found that they had quite a lot of free time to do more active things after the lessons – which both she and the kids liked. She was really proud that her kids had scored really well on the state tests they take every year, and her 10-ish year-old daughter interjected, explaining that she had scored really well in math and science and less in English, and then continued to talk about her lessons. It was pretty cute to see her interest in her education and her ability to talk easily and confidently with adults.

After enjoying the refreshing waterfall, I hiked through the canyon where I met a couple my age from Buenos Aires sitting on a large boulder and drinking mate.

The sky had clouded up and the guide had warned me that if it started raining I should immediately start heading back because the canyon is prone to flash floods. So I headed quickly to the end of the canyon, and as it started to drizzle I hurried back, leaping from boulder to boulder, until I arrived at the base camp.

Having arrived here after spending a few days in the city (Mendoza), I was amazed by the absolute, complete silence (except for once every hour when a car passed on the highway). I had one of the best night’s sleep of my whole journey that night – which was much-needed to prepare me for my long journey ahead.

National Park Talampaya

The scenery on the way to the National Park Talampaya was enough to assure me that the detour to visit these parks was going to be worthwhile.

My plan was to enjoy the park all day today, and then find some nice people to give me a ride to the small town, “Baldecitos”, near the provincial park of Ischigualasto about an hour away.*

I arrived early to the park to figure out options for excursions through the park, and I opted for a group hike through a part of the canyon only accessible by foot. (If we returned early enough, I might be able to also do one of the more popular jeep rides that takes you all the way through the canyon to the other side).** Unfortunately, our hike kept getting delayed because a few of the group members that had reserved were apparently on their way but stuck in traffic.

While I was sitting at a table, trying really hard not to be impatient (I guess I had used all my patience the day before waiting in the shade of the fig tree), I overheard a group speaking in American English. My ears perked up because I haven’t met many American tourists during my travels. And while American tourists in Patagonia are fairly common, here in the middle of northern Argentina, it is not nearly as common to encounter other Americans.

I hesitated to introduce myself because they were all deeply engaged in their conversation, (and while in Latin America it would be rude NOT TO interrupt and greet someone, these were US Americans so it could be considered rude to interrupt.) I finally decided to introduce myself and I’m glad I did!

They were two couples (older than me but young at heart!) that love traveling and seeing new places around the world. They found themselves there all because American Airlines was going to stop running their route to Cordoba, Argentina, and one of the guys decided he wanted to take advantage of it before it was discontinued. And from there, things just started coming together for the two couples – who hadn’t seen each other in a long time (hence their deeply engaged conversation) – to be able to meet up there in Parque Talampaya.

It was so great to share travel stories and hear about some of their unique experiences (like Nude Zealand!), especially since they have been traveling for decades – (they gave me a few pro tips)! I was surprised to hear that their grown children were somewhat indignant about their decision to travel around the world instead of staying close by, near the grandchildren. (I don’t have children so maybe I don’t understand, but, Mom and Dad, you did your time – thank you! Now, get out and go see the world!)

When it was finally time to head out for my hike, I admit I was a little skeptical. We left at noon under the hot desert sun, and I was pretty sure we were going to shrivel up and dehydrate. But it turns out the wind picks up mid-day, and we took it slow, took advantage of shade spots, and stopped frequently, so it was actually didn’t feel like I was walking in the desert at the hottest part of the day.

The hike was all I had hoped for and more. Amazing landscapes.

Rock formations from the Triassic period (250 million years ago) – that’s before the formation of the Andes.

More recent dune formations where vegetation can grow.

 

Even ancient rock paintings from thousands of years ago.

The coolest part was when we came upon a herd of guanaco. Not only was it the first guanaco that I see in the wild, we were right there close to them, in their natural habitat! They let us get about 20 feet away before they finally ran off.

I think the thing that impressed me the most was that we could see where a fault line passed because there was a huge diagonal crack in the walls of the canyon on both sides.

Our guide drew a 24-hour clock in the sand and explained that if the history of the Earth were compared to one day, where the Earth formed at midnight, life appeared at about 3-4am, and the rock formations in the park (that formed 250 million years ago) formed at just one minute and 30 seconds until midnight at the end of the day! (We humans appeared at about 6-10 seconds until the end of the day!)

 

 

I stood in awe, with the beautiful, 250 milion-year-old canyon walls towering above me. I felt so tiny and at the same time I felt that I was traveling time, and through that time travel I was connecting to the extensive history of this planet, and somehow that made me both tiny and as big and as old as the planet, all at the same time.

 

When I got back from the hike that afternoon, it was time for that character-building activity of asking for a lift to Baldecitos, the little town near the entrance to the provincial park Ischicualasto. It shouldn’t seem like a big deal, but for a person raised in the US and raised to be self-sufficient and independent, it is a bit of a psychological challenge. One has to overcome embarrassment, shyness, and fear of rejection, all at once. So I set myself up near the parking lot and asked all the people who drove up where they were headed, and if they were going my direction if they would have room for one more person. About 5 different cars arrived and everyone was very friendly in their rejection, but they were not going my direction.

As one of the excursions returned, I found an older couple that was headed that direction and they were happy to give me a ride. The woman, Ana, was in her 60’s and she is a psychologist in Buenos Aires. They were at the end of their vacation and she had to get back to work after the holidays. She had a private practice and then also worked with the government to do psychological evaluations for people applying for commercial drivers’ licenses. She talked about how she had backpacked through Europe when she was younger and continued to travel as much as possible. They were then kind enough to go a few minutes out of their way to drop me off in Baldecitos, waiting to make sure I found a place to stay.

The woman who owned the hospedaje en Baldecitos was about my age and she lived next door with her little boy of about 12-13 years old. After I got settled in, I saw she was outside spraying the ground with a water hose to control the dust, and I came out and asked her about life in Baldecitos. She was a farmer, with milk and beef cows and also received some extra income from tourists passing through for the park. She was born and raised there in Baldecitos, which has just about 10-15 families living there permanently, with maybe up to 25-20 houses total! (Definitely the smallest town I’ve been in so far.)

A few months prior, they had constructed a cell tower in the town that was also supposed to also bring wi-fi for the community, but it was really spotty, with some of my whatsapp messages delaying a few hours to send.

I feel at home anywhere if I can do yoga with the sunset.

There was a “comedor” (small, simple, family-style restaurant) near my hospedaje where I went to see if I could get something to eat. While there, an older French couple came in also asking about dinner and about logistics for going to the park the next day. The man and older woman in the comedor told us they would serve dinner at 9pm, and that the park opened at 8am and was about 12km down the road.***

This park – Ischigualasto – is the park that you visit by driving through, caravan style, with a guide, stopping along the way to see certain parts. (I had read on blogs that many people without their own transportation look for other people to give them a lift through the park.) The couple seemed really nice and friendly, so I took that opportunity to ask if they had room for one more person, and they assented and said we could chat over dinner.

Over dinner I learned that they had rented a car and were driving down La Ruta 40, with destination Bariloche, but looking for cute little towns and beautiful, hidden gems along the way, just like me (except with a car). They already have grown kids, but they also have this beautiful child-like energy, getting really excited about the places they’ve seen and what there is to see ahead. My kind of people. We hit it off immediately and agreed to meet at 8am the next morning to go explore the Parque Ischigualasto together.

 

Footnotes:

* Dario (the park guide whose house I had stayed at in Pagancillo the night before) had assured me that many people go between the two parks and that I wouldn’t have a problem finding a ride from Talampaya to Ischigualasto. Since that was consistent with the blogs I’d read on the internet, I felt good about the plan.

**I like to know all the options before I make a choice, and here it took me about an hour to understand how it all works (and that’s after having done research online!) It turns out that this is only one of two different park entrances for the National Park Talampaya. At this entrance, there are two companies – one that offers excursions in jeep that leave on a set schedule every few hours, and another that offers hiking or biking excursions. It is all very confusing because the company that offers jeep excursions is also in charge of selling the Park Entrance fee, which makes it seem like their excursions are the only options. But if you ask around, you find that there’s a small office around the corner that offers hikes and bike rides if enough people are interested in forming a group. As a third option for exploring the park, there is another park entrance about 10km down the road, where a different company offers an excursion in jeep to see another part of the park called “Cañon Arco Iris” (Rainbow Canyon) and “La Ciudad Perdida” (Lost City). I also heard that there is another company forming that will do excursions to another part of the park next year.

***I chatted for a while with the couple in the comedor in Baldecitos asking them about life in Baledcitos. They presented another point of view about the park. They said that while they weren’t completely opposed to the park and tourism from the park did bring some income, they were kind of frustrated that it put restrictions on their ability to raise animals because it was a protected area (and to prevent accidents with the passing cars). They mentioned that would have liked to maintain the practices of their ancestors in the raising of guanaco and cattle in the wide open spaces. They also said that this provincially-managed park doesn’t provide the same job opportunities for people in the community of Baldecitos, like the nearby national park Talampaya which provides jobs for many people of the nearby town Pagancillo. They did mention that a consultation process was used to create the park, but they felt that their opinion was not considered. (The complexity of the situation was not lost on me, since I am reading about Latin American history during my travels. For example, I confirmed that they were specifically referring to their European ancestors who have inhabited those lands for hundreds of years. If you keep going back in time, you come to a point in time where their ancestors usurped the lands of the indigenous people living there. And maybe those indigenous people usurped the lands from someone before them.)

 

Atacama Desert

The Atacama desert in northern Chile is known for the best stargazing in the world – and that’s why I HAD to come here. Ironically, I came during the two weeks of the year when it was cloudy and I didn’t get to do proper stargazing (other than a few minutes before the sunrise one morning.)

But, the sunsets!!! Even if I didn’t get to see the other suns of the universe, I got to see OUR sun in all its glory!

The dry desert air makes the incredible landscapes look exceptionally majestic and brilliant, and with a setting sun sending gold in all directions and casting deep blue shadows while tinting the clouds in pink, one will stop whatever she or he’s doing and run to catch the sunset every evening.

All the sunsets were awesome, but the most incredible was definitely in Laguna Tebinquinche*, where the sun set over the white, salt-covered lake and a rainbow emerged in the dark blue rainclouds opposite the sun.

Like many lakes here, the water appears to be covered in a layer of ice but is actually encrusted with a layer of white salt. The lakeshore is filled with “living rocks,” which are salty rocks made up of minerals and microorganisms that can survive some of the harshest environments on the planet. These microorganisms are some of the first living things that came into existence on Earth!

Contemplating the first life on earth, a flamingo flies across the sunset. And with friends made along the journey, we marvel at the beauty of life, the richness of the moment. We all just met each other, and yet we’re all family, born from Mother Earth, who is amazing us with her beauty.

But I digress. Being immersed in this vast desert, looking out across immense spaces and also out into the vast sky, makes one reflect on the grandness of the Earth, the universe, and the beauty of life.

While access to sensitive spots is limited to protect them, there was one salt lake that people can swim in. If you have never swam in a salt lake before, it’s definitely worth adding to the bucket list. Because salt water is more dense than fresh water, the saltier the water the more we float. I noticed the difference swimming in the Pacific Ocean in Lima, but it still didn’t compare to the unique sensation of floating in the salt lake in Atacama!

Look Ma! No hands!

When a large moist area of salty land has dried up, a salt flat (“salar”) is left behind. I saw many salt flats, with the the Salar de Atacama being the 3rd largest salt flat in the world (after those in Uyuni and Argentina). It is so large it can be seen from space.

I was lucky enough to see a few other marvels of the desert during my stay in Atacama, the most grandiose being the National Reserve of the Flamingos (Reserva Nacional de los Flamencos). At 4,200 meters (13,800 ft) above sea level, we saw two beautiful mountain lakes that used to be one great lake until seismic activity of the Nazca and South American tectonic plates created some hills that divided the lake in two.

Another breath-taking desert lake is the laguna aguas calientes. Here, the diversity of the landscapes was overwhelming. There were huge dune-like mountains of black lava rock, a lake of hot water fed by an aquifer that sits on top of a volcanic magma layer, and red hills rich in iron minerals. All accented by the pink flamingos looking for food in the lake below.

 

 

 

Finally, the bike ride through the Valle de la Luna was a challenging adventure through the desert heat, where we met friends along the way, saw incredible rock formations, and watched rain develop across the flat desert plains – the same rain that cooled us off a few hours later.

One final fun fact. The Atacama desert is located on the tropic of capricorn. I’m pretty sure I learned about the tropic of Capricorn at some point in my life, but I didn’t really remember what it was. The tropic lines are the points where the sun shines directly overhead, due to the tilt in the Earth. The regions of land between the two tropic lines are considered “tropical” areas since they receive the most direct sun, typically creating warmer year-round climates than the rest of the globe.

Our guide explains the tropic lines with a drawing in the desert sand. The sign marks where the tropic of capricorn passes, which also happens to be a part of the Inca Trail.

 

Famous Footnotes

Unless you rent (or have) a car to go see the sites (which would be a great way to explore Atacama), the way to see things is through the tours offered by the various tour companies in San Pedro de Atacama. The tours I took were:

-Tour 1: Laguna Cejar, Laguna Piedra (the salt lake where you can swim and float), Ojos del Salar, and Laguna Tebinquinche (the salt lake with the amazing sunset).*If you take the tour of Laguna Cejar in the afternoon, it usually ends at Laguna Tebinquinche so you can see the incredible sunset here.

-Tour 2: Reserva Nacional de los Flamencos (Laguna Miscanti and Laguna Miñiques), Laguna Talar, and Salar and Laguna Aguas Calientes with overlook to Piedras Rojas

-Observatory ALMA tour (free but you have to get to the meeting point early to get on the list, as I described in my blog post.)

-I rented a bike and rode through “Valle de la Luna” all day (about 6 hours), and another afternoon I rode through “Valle de Marte” and watched the sunset from an overlook point nearby.

**I didn’t get to do a stargazing tour because of weather, but would definitely recommend one!

**I didn’t get to do the geyser tour because rain had washed out the road, but would also recommend that!

 

Tatacoa Desert – Huila, Colombia

The diversity of landscapes in Colombia is amazing, and one of those unique gems is the Tatacoa Desert, not too far from Bogotá, in Huila.

All within 32,000 hectares, the desert-like landscapes are filled with more than 100 varieties of cactus, petrified wood, and other-worldly rock formations.

While the majority of the area is dominated by grey-ish colored rock formations, the Tatacoa makes a sudden drastic change to red rock formations, and so is referred to by its two parts – the red desert and the grey desert.

Desierto Gris (Grey Desert)

Desierto Rojo (Red Desert)

The intense sun and extreme heat is something that the locals try to avoid by relaxing in the shade at mid day, and with long sleeves and brimmed hats the rest of the day.

Fun fact: Despite it’s heat, sand, and cactus, the Tatacoa Desert isn’t actually categorized as a desert; it’s technically a “dry forest” climate zone. (Though it’s what a lay person would call a “desert”.)

It was here in the Tatacoa desert that I discovered my favorite berry in the world – the Chichatop. I have never tasted a more delicious fruit (and I LOVE strawberries and blueberries… but this one topped them all!)
Sorry, I didn’t get a photo of my favorite berry, but I did get a photo of this edible fruit that grows in a cactus.

The desert is just a few minutes drive from the nice little town of Villavieja.* You can stay in the town and do a day trip to the desert, or you can spend the night at one of the hospedajes in the desert.

Many of them have pools (and even if you don’t stay in the desert, you an always pay to enter one of the pools for a much-needed cool-off).

On clear days you can see the faraway snow-capped mountains near Manizales, but these days you can’t see the white peaks. Due to global warming, the size of the snow caps has been diminishing over the years and they are too small to see now.

While a guide isn’t necessary to appreciate the desert, it is quite helpful to not get lost in the heat and to maximize your time seeing some of the highlights. I would recommend it especially in support of eco-tourism…it supports the local economy in a positive way, giving value to the preservation of the land and creating green jobs for the locals. Our guide specifically mentioned that he really loved the training he received to be a guide, learning about the landscapes and the history, and he hoped that he could continue to learn more to continue getting better at his job.

The Tatacoa is home to two observatories and they give viewing sessions every night where you can learn a few night sky fun facts and see a few highlights through a telescope and binoculars. I was super impressed to learn that the half moon is a C or a D shape in the US, but it’s more like a smile or frown shape here. (In other words, the we see the lit-up side from different angles so it seems to be rotated between the two hemispheres). Similarly, Casiopia is a “W” in the US but an “M” here (something I had noticed but just thought it was related to the time of the year I was looking at it!)

We looked at stars being born (in the Orion Nebula). And looking at the cloud of the andromeda galaxy, we saw more stars at one time than one sees in the entire sky. With a basic high powered telescope, binoculars, and a really knowledgeable star guide, it was interesting and entertaining, and I loved it! It was a perfect way to appreciate the desert night.

Famous Footnotes/Bonus Content:

*On the way back to Neiva, the largest city near Villavieja, I took a colectivo, which is like a taxi van that waits until all the seats are filled to leave. (I got lucky and was the last one so didn’t have to wait.) In the colectivo there was a couple from Bogotá, another backpacker from Europe, and two women from Villavieja. The women were quiet at first, but as we started chatting, they each had a fun sense of humor, and were very chill and friendly. They confirmed that the town is a pretty quiet and relaxed town, that lives off tourism and some farming and raising animals. That weekend was going to be less quiet than usual – the town was going to have a big celebration all weekend with a concert sponsored by the mayor.

Colombian Things

I fell in love with Colombia – with the warm, friendly people, the neat and colorful little towns, and with the diversity of landscapes, climates and cultures. Across the country, in every place I stayed, I quickly felt at home.

(Podrías leer este publicación en español haciendo click aquí.)

The friendly and hospitable people and incredible diversity of landscapes wasn’t exactly new for me, because I have found it in abundance in every country in South America.

But each country has something special and its own unique flavor. Each country has those unique things that make it different from its neighbors, like an accent, certain words or phrases, customs, or trends. Colombia has its fair share, and I’m sure I only picked up on not even 10% of them, but here I’ll share a few that I noticed that made Colombia unique from the other South American countries I’ve visited. With these, you can start practicing so you can blend in as if you were from there!

In the streets…

Being a cyclist, I was fascinated by the number of people that ride bikes – both for daily commute and for exercise! I loved that in three of the cities that I visited, they opened “ciclovia” on Sunday mornings, where they closed of major streets to vehicle traffic, for cyclists, runners, or families that wanted to enjoy the morning walking in the fresh air.

Another two-wheeled novelty… I found that I could get around easily thanks to motorcycle taxis! I’m not talking about moto-taxis or “tuk-tuks” where they put a type of carriage for you to sit on the back of a motorcycle. Rather, you can flag down a motorcycle, just like you would a taxi, hop on the back, and get where you were going quickly and easily. (A few even insisted they had no problem taking me and my huge hiking backpack – and they really did carry me and my backpack just fine. Though I only rode with my big backpack in smaller cities at lower speeds!)

They even have an app like Uber or Lyft, called “Picap” where you can call the motorcycle taxi to come get you. (Everyone uses these apps (Uber, Beat, Picap), even though they are technically illegal.)

You can also see Chiva buses in many cities in Colombia. You’ll recognize them when you’re walking down the street and you suddenly hear the party coming down the road towards you. That’s right, they’re party buses that either go through the street picking people up (you can just hop on!) or some are contracted and you can rent the whole bus for your party.

I loved that there were a ton of outdoor parks, green spaces, and public parks throughout the cities I visited. There was usually outdoor exercise equipment, basketball and football (soccer) courts, playgrounds, and trails to walk or run. Especially in a big city like Bogota, it made it a lot more welcoming and livable, in my opinion.

I noticed graffiti art adding color to most cities, mostly with clear neighborhood or political themes (though also a few instances of gang-like tagging.)

Finally, I loved that there were water fountains in the airport, a sign that the country had advanced in providing potable water to taps for people. It turned out to be true that most of the places I visited did have potable water delivered to their taps!

There were also many different phrases, words and expressions that I noticed were different from the other countries I visited. One example was that after saying “thank you” for something, the common response not the “no problem” that I was used to, but rather “with pleasure”, which made one feel much more welcome. For more examples, read the Spanish version of this blog entry.

Finally, I was lucky enough to be in Colombia on December 7th when they celebrate “la noche de las velitas” or the night of candles. This is when families gather on their front porch or in the street outside their house to light candles. Each candle represents good wishes for a special person in their life. In Bogotá, many families or groups of friends gathered in public parks to sit in a circle and light their candles. It was a really lovely atmosphere where one felt a sense of community with others from the neighborhood, while enjoying a special moment with friends and family closest to you.

 

Ciudad Perdida

If there was one thing I wanted to see in Colombia, (besides my good friends Adam and Adrienne), it was la Ciudad Perdida (“the lost city”). To describe the impact and significance of this archaeological site, many call it the Machu Picchu of Colombia. But unlike Machu Picchu, the only way to arrive to la Ciudad Perdida is a multi-day (4-7 days) hike through the hot, humid jungle of the Sierra Nevada, Colombia.

Translated as “The Lost City”, it was found overgrown by the jungle and being looted for precious stones (like most archeological sites in the world). In the 1970s, the Colombian government and archeologists were able to protect it and begin “recovering” it, (cutting the jungle back). This revealed the historic city – neighborhoods (terraces where houses once stood and walking paths that connected the at least 500 houses of the city) and ceremonial areas overlooking the surrounding mountainside.

In the 1980’s it was opened for visitors, and now you can access this unique site by trekking through the jungle with one of the 7 authorized tour companies. (And you can ONLY access it by trekking with one of these authorized companies). During the trek, you pass through two national park reserves (parques nacionales naturales), which are protected areas.

Since all the companies by law have to charge the same price, I chose to go with Wiwa Tours, which hires guides from the four native communities whose ancestors founded Ciudad Perdida and who still live there and in the surrounding lands, still practicing many of their traditional customs.

Our guide, Juan Daza, in Ciudad Perdida, explains a traditional process of making pots

Our guide explained that the site of Ciudad Perdida was home to the Tayrona (also “Tairuna” or “Teyuna”) culture, the ancestral culture of the four present-day, distinct but connected communities of the Sierra Nevada – the Arhuaco, Kogui, Wiwa, and Kankuamo. Each has their own language, customs and leaders, but they share this sacred site.

Ciudad Perdida was as interesting and mystical as Machu Picchu was for me, though in different ways. One of the most fascinating aspects was its connection to the present – the “mamo” and “saga”, or male and female community leaders from one of the four communities still lives on the grounds of Ciudad Perdida.

Mamo’s or Saga’s house in Ciudad Perdida

The communities still live in and around the surrounding lands and are involved in management of the tourism that comes through, receiving some of the financial benefits from it.* Each September, the four communities still gather at the sacred site of Ciudad Perdida to perform ceremonies (and clean the site of any bad juju that tourists might have brought to the sacred site in their visit). (Yes, I said “juju”. Don’t hate.)

The vistas are also breath-taking. The site is on a high point in the hills, surrounded by 180 degrees of beautiful green mountains and valleys, and even a waterfall cascading down a mountain in the distance.

To arrive at this amazing site, we hiked for about a day and a half up and down through the hills of the jungle, crossing streams and the river. The jungle humidity kept me drenched in sweat the entire day, every day of hiking, and we got rained on twice – which was actually quiet refreshing! (Having done my research I knew to prepare my bag as light as possible and to water-proof it to be able to hike in the rain and cross rivers, and still have dry clothes to wear in the night and the next days.)**

I was surprised to find that these tours and their accommodations are actually a pretty well-functioning machine – they get hundreds of tourists to and from Ciudad Perdida every day of the year! First, the accommodations were surprising. There were well-equipped camp sites along the way, prepared to accommodate multiple groups at a time, some seeming to accommodate up to a hundred through-hikers each day. They had bunk beds with mosquito nets, showers, and flush toilets in every camp where we stayed. There was also a huge kitchen area where the different guide companies prepared meals for their groups – and the meals were delicious and nutritious! Since they provided all the lodging and meals, we only had to carry clothes and a few basic personal items.**

I was impressed by how they’ve scaled up a multi-day trek through the jungle, making it accessible for a wide range of ages and fitness types (there was an 80-year-old man in one of the groups) and also making it accessible for a lot of people at once. On the other hand, I might have been slightly disappointed that the crowds and accommodations did make it less exotic, mystical, and hard-core. But I was also happy to have a shower and delicious meal each night and to meet people from all over the world.

Our group had 19 people from Europe, Colombia, Chile and me, two tour guides (one Wiwa, one Kogui), and an English translator (Venezuelan).

This was actually one of the first guided hikes that I’ve done in South America where there was a good percentage of locals on the tour – nearly half of the group were Colombians, with a group of 3 Chilean women (a few years older than me), and the rest Europeans.

Almost as if to prove our worthiness, the morning of the third day we had to cross a rushing river and then climb a few hundred meters to arrive at the Ciudad Perdida.

There, we learned about some of the current and ancient customs of the Tayrona culture and the current-day communities. Interestingly, there is still disagreement between some archeologists and the current-day communities about the meaning of some of the ruins and artifacts.

One of my favorites of the artifacts were the maps etched in stone – always with the 2 snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada as a reference. (These two peaks of the Sierra Nevada are very important in the culture and show up in many artifacts, artwork, and architecture of the Tayrona culture.)

“You are here”

While a little more “touristy” and expensive than I typically go for, I wouldn’t have missed this grand adventure. An incredible mix of history, culture, adventure, nature, and incredible landscapes, it embodied what I am seeking in my travels – an opportunity to invest in cultural and natural conservation, while learning and experiencing a great adventure!

 

Bonus Content

A peek into some traditions of the modern-day indigenous communities of the Sierra Nevada:

Throughout the 4-day hike, our guides constantly chewed coca leaves and carried a gourd-like thing, always “painting” it with a stick.

Note the bulge in the cheek where he chews his coca leaf, and the gourd and stick he is always wielding.

Finally, after arriving to the Ciudad Perdida, our guides (one Wiwa and one Kogui) explained that gourd for them was a kind of journal or a work of art. They chew the coca leaf and then spit it into the gourd “popora” where they mix it with crushed seashells. They then paint the outside of the popora with this mixture of calcium, coca leaf, and saliva, building up layers of a coating on the outside of the gourd. This coating carries all their thoughts, hopes and ponderings, and so functions as a kind of journal for them.

A tradition that probably dates back centuries before the Spanish arrived (according to archeological evidence of poporas), when men become of age, they go through a ceremony to become official members of the community, and this includes receiving their first “poporo”. When it reaches a certain size, they take it to the mamo (leader) for consultation and then receive another to start on.

The women have a similar tradition in which they weave circular bags using the fibers of the fique plant. (The fique plant is the same plant used to make the coffee sacks I mentioned in a previous blog about a coffee farm in Salento.) The bag contains all of their thoughts and stories and ponderings while making the bag, so that when the gift the bag to someone, they are also gifting them all of their thoughts during the creation of the bag. The circular design is to keep the positive energy in the bag because the energy “runs into the corners and escapes”. This circular style of bag is typically referred to as a “mochila”, or backpack, and is actually fashionable all through Colombia, used by men and women alike throughout the country.

The coca leaf is, and has been, an important part of the indigenous cultures of South America for centuries. One of the most interesting uses I saw was in the greeting. When one person (male) of the Tayrona culture greets another person, each offers the other a handful of coca leaves.

Exchanging coca leaves

Footnotes

*A person that grows up in an indigenous community in the “modern age” inevitably experiences an identity conflict. The person has to reconcile adapting to the modern world without losing key aspects of their cultural identity. That means defining what parts of each world define them – which customs from each culture (traditional and modern) they will adhere to and maintain in their daily life. With the “modern” culture dominating in cultural and economic power, many traditional customs are abandoned in order to be able to survive or to gain more opportunities in the modern world. In my opinion, the “cultural tourism” aspect of visiting Ciudad Perdida was a way to invest in promoting cultural conservation of these traditions. By sharing their traditions with us, the guides were able to keep their cultural memories alive, and they could be inspired to do so both by the interest we have in learning as well as the financial incentive – the fact that they can earn a living through keeping their culture alive.

**Packing for Ciudad Perdida, I recommend: quick-dry towel, flip flops for the evenings, newspapers to stuff in shoes so they will dry at night, carabiners to hang things from your backpack to dry during the day, water-proof backpack cover, multiple plastic bags to store everything you want to keep dry and to line the inside of your backpack, a ziplock to keep your phone dry, just enough shampoo and soap, 1L water bottle, money to buy gatorade or snacks along the way.

 

 

 

 

Eje Cafetero – Manizales

The “eje cafetero”, or coffee region of Colombia is a popular stop for Colombians and international travelers alike to visit and tour coffee plantations. Just south of Medellin, it includes the larger cities of Manizales, Pereira, and Armenia, and their surrounding areas. My first stop – Manizales.

A university town, Manizales is a bustling small city, built in the hills at 2,100m, with the advantage of incredible views of the surrounding valleys and mountains (and the challenge of having extremely steep roads). It’s close enough to the snow capped mountains Santa Isabel and Nevado El Ruiz, that they offer treks and trips in 4×4 to see the unique Páramo* zone there, la laguna negra and the volcano Ruiz’s crater, or a glacier on Nevado Santa Isabel. In the eruption (and resulting tragedy of Armero) in November 1985, Manizales saw some ash fall from the sky.

A city nearing half a million people, Manizales has a good bus system, a teleférico, and enough traffic that they have put in place “pico y placa” where you can only drive on certain roads certain days and times, according to your license plate number. (This is a program in place in many cities- I’ve seen it in Lima and Bogotá.)

Rudolf car likes cyclovia too.

Speaking of the roads, Manizales also implements ciclovía on Sundays, like Medellin and Bogotá (and possibly other cities in Colombia). Ciclovía is the beautiful phenomenon where certain main roads are closed for cars to allow cyclists, walkers, runners, skaters, etc. a safe space to workout, walk with the family, or simply get from one place to another on bicycle more safely.

Two years in a row, Manizales was voted the best college town in Colombia because of student quality of life, ease of getting around, and qualified professors. I met a university student who was from Manizales and he was super proud of it being “the best university town in Colombia”. He described it as having all the culture of a big city but being easier to get around, having great weather (usually around the 70s), and amazing views and outdoor activities.

He pointed out the mirador to me and said it was an awesome place to watch the sunset. But it happened to be cloudy and foggy at that moment. Just wait, it will clear up, he said. So we chatted for about 30 minutes and sure enough, blue sky and sun started peeking through the white cloudy sky.

As the clouds started to clear, the view of the valley below opened up, and I watched clouds passing through at eye level.

Nearby, there are a ton of family-friendly outdoors activities, including a public forest, thermal hot springs, overlook points, a national park with a hiking paths, playgrounds, and an interactive ecological science center (which I loved)!

The ecological center had a ton of high tech interactive activities, including an infrared camera to teach basic thermodynamics and a NOAA Science on a Sphere (my first time seeing one!)

I always like to see people’s strategies for teaching science to the general public, and this was no exception. In this case, these guides did a pretty good job of bringing certain issues close to home for people. For example, after showing the fires around the world, especially in the Amazon, (relatively close to here), the guide asked what the audience had done to help prevent the fires. He then surprised everyone asking who stopped eating beef. He followed explaining that most fires in the Amazon start when farmer burns the land to clear it to make pasture land for cattle, and that fire later gets out of control.

It is December and Colombian municipalities love their Christmas lights, from what I’ve seen. Manizales was no exception, with Christmas lights all along the sidewalk to the overlook point in Chipre (Avenida 12 de Octubre).

I admit that I only got a brief peek into Manizales since I wasn’t there for long. It surprised me in so many ways in that short time, I can only imagine what more this city has hidden in its rising and falling streets, what gems and arts sprout from the creative university thinkers, not to mention the influence of the surrounding landscapes, from green valley to snow-capped mountains.

Famous Footnote:

*What is a Páramo, you ask… https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/P%C3%A1ramo

PaNaChi – Family Fun in Colombia

I never would have thought that my travels through South America would include going to a theme park! But the best part about traveling is the surprises!

Parque Nacional Chicamocha (Panachi) is a theme park in Santander, Colombia built above the Chicamocha river valley and probably has the best views of any theme park I’ve ever been to.

One of its main highlights is the teleférico (elevated cable car) that takes you down into the river valley, floating above the river, and then back up to a mountainside across the river. (If you know how much I love teleféricos, you know I couldn’t pass this up!)

When you arrive on the mountain on the other side, there are restaurants with typical food from the Santander region, snacks, souvenirs, and you could even do a virtual reality session.

I ordered the mute (pronounced “mootay”)

Another highlight is the water park literally on the side of a mountain, with an amazing view overlooking the valley, with a mountain backdrop in the distance. (If you know how much I love swimming, you know I couldn’t pass that up either!)

There were a couple of water slides, a lazy river, different pools, and a few water park areas for kids.

Panachi also has different “xtreme” experiences like a bungee-jump type experience, swings that swing you over the side of a cliff, zip-lines, etc. all paid for separately.

It was really cool to see how some Colombian families spend vacation, and to see people out having fun! (And it was also cool that there weren’t a ton of people because I went during low season!)

Like many of my experiences here in Colombia, the park has a funky schedule (closed Monday and Tuesday during low season), and the teleférico also has its own schedule. I was surprised when they had told us we’d return from the teleférico in 2 hours; I thought it was just a really long ride … until they dropped us off on the other mountain after a 30-minute ride and left us there for an hour until it fired back up again to deliver us back to the park.*

Overall, it was a fun day, and highly recommended, for anyone, but especially as a family outing!

Famous Footnotes:

Still, 3+ years in Latin America and I still get surprised at things done differently. Some things get lost in translation, and some things just aren’t explained well or in a context that I understand, and I forget that sometimes one has to ask a lot of questions to clarify things. But, I have learned to appreciate surprises, go with the flow, and not stress (or stress less) when things don’t go as I planned or as I expected. And that is a gift that I value more than gold!