Salento, Colombia

To begin another post with a travel story that did not go as planned, would be par for the course throughout our Colombian experience, so why stop now! We arrived at the Cartagena airport about nine hours before our departure time, but this was expected and there was really nothing we could do, because of our excess luggage. We were scheduled to fly with a small airline and the flight desk didn’t open for another seven hours, which meant sitting on the floor and in the only café before security. We burned the time away with some pretty awesome people watching, which included many an ass implant and ones that were seemingly paid for by their much older suiter. We also read an email from the teaching program, informing us that our working and tourist visas had been revoked, thus requiring us to leave the country or be fugitives on the run….hard to do when you are about to use your passport. As previously stated in another post, we were fortunate enough to have the special, Canadian only paid tourist visas, so we hoped that the program was not able to cancel them and were just bluffing. We waded through the check-in line with nervous anticipation of either having no problems or being zip tied and black bagged by the Policia upon handing over our passports. Obviously, the latter did not occur and after paying our baggage overages, we raced through security to drown out the past anxiety with more than a few cervezas. The drinks continued on the plane to ease our stress and we arrived very late in Pereira, about an hour from Salento. We spent the next 30 minutes, haggling with cabs who were trying to gouge us over this late night-drive into the mountains. Just after our taxi pulled away from the airport, it suddenly turned around and took us back. I was urged to get out of the car with our passports and follow the driver. Inside a small and sketchy room, I handed them over, watched them leave the room and waited patiently. They were returned some time later, all the while with Rebecca waiting nervously in the taxi by herself. Considering we were possible fugitives, this was beyond strange and timely. I cursed myself for not traveling with my Irish passport as well and just handing Rebecca over to the authorities…. We received no explanation as to why this happened, but were back on the road. The uncertainty of this current situation was only beginning to lessen when our taxi pulled into a gas station and we were hurriedly forced out of the car once again. This immediately seemed like a setup to be robbed and one that we had been warned about when taking taxis at night. We stood outside with some of our valuables clutched to our chests. The driver assured us in Spanish everything was going to be okay, but we had no idea what was happening. We later confirmed that he thinks it’s safer to be outside of the car while filling up in case it explodes, so we were once again back on the road.

Arriving to a new place in the dead of night, is always quite interesting, as you get to awake the next day, open your doors and experience the new world around you for the first time, even though it has surrounded you all night. Completely different than driving into it during the day… The sight that greeted us this time was unlike any other we had seen in Colombia thus far. Rolling, plush, green mountains and cool air, which required socks and even pants to be comfortable in! I geared up in warm clothing and explored the challenging terrain by going for a run. Two minutes in, I was in love with this incredibly colourful town, with its small doors and windows, donkey/horse pulled carts and a carbon copy of Juan Valdez himself, around every corner. The sun began to peek above the mountains, as I made my way back to our hostel and a new smell to me filled the air. Perforated Arepas on open grills, smothered in butter, were being cooked all around this tiny town and apparently how the people of this region start each day. I arrived back at the hostel to find it just as quiet as when I had left. The only changing thing, was Rebecca, wrapped in warmth and meditating outside, engulfed by mist and mountains…a satiating sight for my soul.

Enjoying morning coffee overlooking our incredible mountain views, we sat, almost alone in this new part of the world, as the other travellers at the hostel had yet to stir. We skipped the breakfast about to be offered and instead followed our noses to find the Arepas I smelled earlier and would not shut up about. We found the spot! A road side grill, tended by a woman, seemingly enthralled with the idea of two gringos eating the local "desayuno," flipping and rotating the fresh rounds as they grilled and puffed up. They did not disappoint and were consumed, as we ventured off the path most traveled. We picked up a stray dog along the way who helped guide us down a winding path, cut from the jungle, along the mountainside and past various small family coffee plantations. We knew we were still in Colombia, but it was hard to imagine with all the different pleasantries our senses were experiencing.

Salento is a very small community of hilled streets, small buildings and almost Oompa-Loompa like architecture and colours. The few streets are lined with tiendas (small shops), the odd restaurant, homes and many hostels, but all lead up towards a hill top square, dominated by an old church and fading staircase in the distance, which leads to vast lookouts. The square itself is surrounded by bars, cafes, restaurants and street side merchants and is home to the majority of the tourists at any given time. Side note... this is the very square where an almost impossible encounter occurred. Being the week of Semana Santa, Holy Week, all of Colombia was vacationing, including the program head who signed the letter stating our visas were revoked and we were no longer legal to be in the country. As the universe would have it, while paying for our favourite boxes of wine in the towns' only grocery store, douche face himself locked eyes with us from the other cash (for an explanation of this most appropriate, albeit crude moniker, send requests via email). It was especially pleasing, because his look spoke volumes... first confusion while trying to confirm our identities, then annoyance that we remained in the country, despite his best efforts... Besides the main drag, you can venture out to nearby coffee plantations, available by a long walk or taxi ride in/on a Jurassic Park style Jeep. There are tucked away bars and restaurants, including a small courtyard, which houses a few Colombian food trucks, a bar, music and very reasonable prices. This is where we met the mini Arepas. Why have one or two stuffed to the brim with the same ingredients, when you can have six minis, that challenge the traditions of Colombian taste combinations. Dios mio!! Much to explore in this tiny mountain town, so take 2-3 days to do so, while working in a day trip to Valle De Cocora and a coffee plantation or two.

View more pictures of Salento by clicking the Photography tab at the top of the page.