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...
No comments:
Post a Comment