The Darien Gap for New Year, Sapzurro Columbia

Reluctantly it was time to drag ourselves away from Columbia, after spending over 2 months in the country we needed to get to know a bit of Central America. The problem was 'how to get there'..? Unbelievably were it not for the 100 mile gap where the Panamerican highway stops in Columbia and restarts in the Darien jungle of Panama, the Panamerican would stretch uninterrupted from Alaska to Argentina. Although some crazy people in the past have trekked through the 'Gap', we were not up for the challenge!

So our choices were: 1) To take a sailboat for 5 days from Cartagena, Columbia to Panama - given that it was the windy season this option did not appeal, particularly after having taken some scary boat trips as a child in 9 force gales! 2) Fly from a Columbian city to Panama - way too expensive! or 3) Take the cheapest and longest option involving mutliple buses, ridiculous boat journeys and a light aircraft via small Caribbean beach towns located next to the Darien. So given our budget and lack of time constraints option number 3 was the winner and we headed off on (what turned out to be) an absolute mission....

The crazy harbour at Turbo
The adventure started when we tried to leave Cartagena; we were hassled by bus touts as soon as we entered the terminal and rushed on to a bus only to sit there in stifling heat for 2 hours before we actually left the city. When we finally got going, the trip involved a 7 hour ride on a bumpy overheated and packed out bus, followed by a 5 hour journey in a pick up truck where we were thrown into the front seat. Being 'pequena' (small) I was given the 'half seat'. With hardly any room for my legs - I ended up with a gearstick between them and somehow managed to get some sleep as we bumped around the potholes!

On the boat before hitting the open sea
We didn't get to the dodgy port town of Turbo (most suitably named - you seriously want to get in and out of there as soon as possible) until 11pm and we were swamped by scary moto-taxis to take us to our accommodation. Next morning we were up at the crack of dawn to purchase our boat tickets, only to find that there were only a few tickets left at 6 in the morning! So reluctantly we were seated in the front of the speed boat, well placed to experience the most severe body jarring bumps as the boat tackled 5 metre swells over a 3 hour period. Our bags were placed in front of us, and piled high. Not being tied down, we spent most of the journey trying to catch them before they ended up in the sea. One guy luckily caught my massive backpack before it went right over the edge, we quite literally spent as much time in the air on this journey as we did on the sea. The relief we felt when we got off the boat in Capurgana is difficult to put into words. Despite feeling whinded and whiplashed with multiple bruises to the back and arms we were so glad to have gotten the worst part of the journey over with (or so we thought..)

The ridiculously small speed boat with 3 massive engines!
Capurgana is a bustling little Caribbean town, but with no roads, no cars and blinking on and off electricity it feels a million miles from the rest of the world. We spent one night there before heading to the even more chilled town of Sapzurro just around the corner by boat. Sapzurro fulfilled our vision of a quiet local place where the sun shines, the sands are white and Caribbean music can be heard from every corner of town. We slept in a tent across from the beach, cooking for ourselves and generally relaxing.

We were surrounded by the Military and Paramilitary

Ingenious local transport in Capurgana


Coconuts everywhere!


Kids preparing their stuffed mannequins in preparation for burning on NYE. Signifying the end of the old year.





The people of this town LOVE music, signified by their enormous sound systems. Every home has one!



We saw in the New Year in this Caribbean town, and partied with the locals until the 'wee' hours in a bar playing a mixture of merengue, salsa and reggaeton music. Needless to say, we did not join in with the locals to the reggaeton and left them to it - I think the video says it all. The dancing was straight from Jamiaca - the whole family got involved from kids to oldies and was something that neither of us had ever seen before. A great way to see in 2012.

Pirates, Caribbean & Rum - Colonial Cartagena, Columbia

Colourful Cartagena on the Caribbean - definitely one of our favourite cities in South America. Steeped in a history involving pirates, multiple invasions (even the English launched an unsuccessful attempt in the 1700's), gold, and tropical disease epidemics. This city has gone through it all over the past 500 or so years.

You can tell by wandering through the colonial part of town, with its multi-coloured buildings, beautiful architecture and overhanging flower filled balconies, that the Spanish really liked it here. It was once the main port from which the Spanish traded and the place where much gold and other valuable items, taken from indigenous groups was then exported out to Spain.












Enjoying an ice cold beer in a fabulous Cuban Salsa bar






We stayed in a stunning colonial house complete with a pool and fish pond, definitely one of the most luxurious places we have satyed in. On the (not so comfortable side) we slept in a 9 bed dorm, as Cartagena is an expensive city.
We chose to spend Christmas here, though we were surprised to find that in comparison to Medellin, there were not many decorations or much of a Christmas spirit here. We did however manage to embrace a little festive cheer on Xmas eve at a hostel party complete with DJ's and a big pool, this was then followed up with a yummy dinner on Christmas day and a sunset cocktail looking out onto the Caribbean. Though, it did make us feel a little homesick, thinking about friends and family far away. So we raised a toast looking forward to spending it in England in 2012 after 8 years.

Recovering and wallowing in mud in Tayrona National Park, Columbia

After the mud, mighty rivers and exhaustion of Ciudad Perdida, we were looking forward to some tranquility. We'd heard about Tayrona National Park, only one hour away from Taganga, with its white beaches, windswept palms and chilled vibe and thought that this was the perfect spot. However as we were discovering, after all of the rain, much of Columbia had turned into a mud swamp, and Tayrona had not escaped.


Tayrona is very picturesque, it is raw in beauty and there's lots of wildlife; we even caught a glimpse of a toucan and I had a monkey chase me after it swung out of a tree. To top if off the beaches are clean and pristine. Unfortunately, in South America there is a real problem with discarding rubbish and often it is thrown out of bus windows, on to the street or into the sea. With a lack of awareness and education this is a very real issue throughout the continent.


Embracing the mud in between our toes



Walking through the jungle barefoot!

Braving the mighty rio in search of the Lost City, Ciudad Perdida, Columbia

John at our hostel in Taganga advised us against doing the Ciudad Perdida (lost city) trek, telling us all sorts of horror stories involving guides and trekkers being washed away by the river. However this did not deter us as we were determined to complete this trek after the Torres Del Paine defeat and missing out on the Inca Trail.
After all, this trek has been voted as one of the best in the world, so how bad could it be..

Our first encounter with mud. We did our best to keep our shoes clean and dry - little did we know what was in store for us.

We lucked out with a great group - 2 guys from Switzerland, a German guy, a Columbian/Canadian couple and an English girl. However we were not so lucky with the weather. The rainy season was meant to be over, however we felt the full force of it. In fact it was the worst it had been in years.

Walter our guide wears the football shirt and Danielo, our porter sits at the front. He carried our food in his makeshift rucksack (right on the bench)


The first day of the trek was incredibly challenging, most of it was uphill through muddy almost clay like earth, it was raining torrentially and we arrived at what we thought was camp just before dark. In fact our camp was cut off by an enormous angry fierce brown river. We spent a few hours watching and hoping that the rains would recede so that we could cross, eat and jump into our hamocs for the night. It wasn't until almost 10pm that we crossed. It was frightening to say the least. The water came up to my chest and I had to be virtually carried across the river as the force of the water pushed my feet from under me. Without the 5 guys holding me up and pushing me along I would have been joining the rest of the river victims downstream!


Watching the mighty river flow, before crossing!

The river the next morning, clear and calm

Tom looking happy in his wellies as he waded through streams
The second and third day were much more relaxed, even though we still had river crossings, they were more tame - we even had a chance to take a quick dip in some of the river pools. The landscape was fascinating and constantly changing, from rocks and red mud to jungle and rock climbing at the end of the third day. Oh and not forgetting the munching insects - our legs were completely annihilated by mossies and sand flies. Hmm this was when we started questioning whether we should have taken malaria tablets....







As we stomped through the muddy paths, we passed through several Kogi Indigenous villages, these groups are descendants from the Tayronas, the architects of Ciudad Perdida. Interestingly, they continue to follow traditional cultural practices, the majority of which have a definite bias towards the men!

Girls at age 13 are chosen for marriage and widows are provided to young men to help them 'learn' how to become men. Women do most of the work - carrying the children, and lifting heavy objects in barefeet while their male counterparts walk ahead empty handed in a nice comfy pair of wellies. At the end of a hard day(?!) the men rest in a hamoc while the women are forced to sleep on the floor. Definitely the most chivalrous of societies.

Life starts tough as well. Babies are left hanging in a tree to be attacked by mossies while Mum works in the fields, and if the baby is born with a disability it is sacrificed on the premise that it 'wouldn't survive the jungle'.

The fourth day of the trek was when things got really interesting. We made it to the 'Island camp' surrounded by the mighty river just before the rains started. In fact the rain did not stop for 30 hours or so which meant that we were stuck. We could not go forward on to Ciudad Perdida or back due to the ferociousness of the river. Our guide Walter spent most of the next day stressing about the safety of everyone and it looked as though we might miss out on seeing the lost city altogether.

Crossing a river in a jungle car, Indiana Jones style



As the rains came down our 5 day trek turned into a 'survivor' 6 day trek. We ran out of food and had to scrounge supplies from another group and there was even talk of getting the military to airlift us food and supplies if the rain continued. Luckily though we woke up on day 5 to see some sunshine, so we headed to Ciudad Perdida through yet another frightening river crossing. This time though the guides had worked out a technique using a rope and harness to whizz us through the rapids.

After huffing and puffing up 1200 stone steps in dense jungle we finally arrived at the lost city. It's no wonder that they gave it this name - it wasn't discovered by treasure hunters until 1972! Back in 800AD when it is believed to have been founded, 650 years earlier than Machu Picchu, the Lost City consisted of 169 terraces, housing 2000 to 8000 people. The city came to an end around the time when the Spanish arrived as their trade route with the coast became blocked. Without the antibodies to protect against the newly introduced European diseases, the tribe was almost completely wiped out.






The last day was HARD, we had to do most of the trek that took us 2.5 days on the way to Ciudad Perdida, in just one day, starting at 5am. After days of rain the paths had turned into mud slop and in some places we lost our legs into knee deep mud. When we finally arrived at our pick up point completely exhausted but elated that we'd completed the trek, we were told that the jeeps to pick us up were stuck and that we'd need to walk for another few hours. Thankfully, as so often happens in South America, the story changed within an hour and the jeeps arrived.
We finished off the day bundled into yet another jeep, clinging on for dear life as the back door randomly flung open on the highway. The sign on it ironically saying 'Voy con Dios'- I go with God! Lucky for us it was not our time to go and instead it was time to embark on the next adventure...