Palomino....el Caribe as it should be

After seeing the barren desert of La Guajira it was a relief to arrive in Palomino and find the kind of landscape you picture when you conjur up the Caribbean. White sands, palm trees and beachfront juice shacks, oh yeah.

Coupled with the fisherman who delivered fresh king prawns every afternoon and we were in heaven. Prawny, sunny, salty heaven.

La Guajira- standing on the tip of South America

La Guajira peninsula is Colombia's outback- untamed, sparsley populated, extremly remote and dry as dry can be. The peninsula juts out to form the northern most point of the South American continent; Punta Gallina (Chicken Point) is every bit as wind blown and rugged as you would expect the edge of a continent to be...and somewhat more windblown and rugged than I imagined the Caribbean coastline coud be.

Apparently people have been trying to tame this wild outpost for years- English pirates, Spanish conquistadors and later the Colombian authorities. The Wayyu indians have resisted such attempts for centuries and even today the region has a lawless feeling that comes from being simply too far from the centers of power for anyone to care what happens.

From Riohacha to Cabo de la Vela (the easiest part of the pensinsula to get to) it is around 3.5 hours of bumping along dusty red roads. Crammed into the back of a pickup truck wth us were 10 other adults, two children and a baby. We piled out in Cabo and quickly found a beachfront hut where we rented a couple of hammocks and settled in to the comatose pace of La Guijira.

 

With about 1500 inhabitants, Cabo is one of the bigger towns on the pensinsula, but still relies on generators for electricty and has to bring in all its fresh water. Being closer to Venezuela than any Colombian city of reasonable size, beer is mostly the Venezuelan Polar brand and contraband gasoline from across the border powers the generators and fishing boats.

We arranged transport up to Punta Gallina- half an hour or so by car to Puerto Bolivar and a two and half hour boat ride up to the northern tip of La Guajira. A few scattered familes live in almost complete isolation up here. The land is dry and barren, the sea wild and dangerous. It's hard to imagine a more unforgiving place to live.

On our second day we drove out to the massive sand dunes that rise steeply from the Caribbean, with spectacular views of the coastline and setting sun. The car overheated on the way and to make sure we arrived in time for sunset our driver bounced crazily along the sandy track as we bounced around like sacks of potatoes in the open top tray.

 

We arrived just in time to race up the steep slopes of the dunes and watch the sun dipping below the horizon.

Stunning.

The Rum Diaries Part XXII

Hmmm, I'm not sure there is really much to say about a poorly thought out midnight purchase of rum in the plaza of Guatape. We divvied this one up between 7 or 8 of us so we only got one hefty glass each. Tres Esquinas Añejo is a fairly pissweak rum out of Cartagena de Indias on the Caribbean coast. I wouldn't seek it out again, but if we ever find ourselves thirsty in a plaza somewhere late at night again, I'm sure it would do the job. 

The Rum Diaries XXI

Ooooh, baby. Number twenty one was a big time winner. We had eyed this bottle of Botero Reserva Especial off a few times but finally bit the bullet in Medellin last week and forked out a rather hefty (by local standards) $40 for a taste.

Brought out in honour of Fernando Botero, Colombia's most renowned artist and sculptor, the bottle is reminiscent of one of his roly-poly statues that adorn the centre of Medellin.

 

The rum was the best one we’ve had in Colombia and would definitely be up there in the top five for the Rum Diaries so far. It was so good, I let Martijn drink almost all of it, since my tastebuds are not so finely attuned to rum as his. 

Fun in the sun in Guatape

After spending three weeks in hot, humid, grubby, busy Cali we were pretty keen to get away from big cities and hang out somewhere beautiful and relaxing for a few days. The owner of our hostel in Medellin suggested Guatape, a little town about two hours east of Medellin, situated on a huge, labyrinthine artificial lake.

 Guatape was indeed beautiful but we somehow managed to stumble in on a long weekend, and there’s nothing like a few thousand Colombians on holiday to ruin any chances of quiet relaxation. The waterfront was set up with tiny stalls selling beer, aguardiente and various heart-attack inducing snacks. My favourite was the aptly named El Palacio del Colesterol (yep, Cholesterol Palace).

We hired a canoe and paddled around the lake on our first morning- there are so many tiny channels and isolated bays that you could easily explore for a week. The water was clear as a bell and even the numerous jet-skiers and speedboat bogans couldn’t totally shatter the idyllic feeling.

Guatape itself is too cute to be true- all brightly coloured painted houses, cowboys riding horses and lazy afternoon beers on the plaza.

 

Its biggest claim to fame is the nearby El Peñol, a huge granite rock that rises a couple of hundred metres above the landscape. 659 steps take you up to the top, where sadly the view is somewhat diminished by hideous barbed wire barriers and shoddily constructed concrete shacks. Once you managed to ignore the concentration camp decor though, the view was truly spectacular.

 

We got a Colombian woman to take our photo but I think she missed the point (or was simply too lazy to stand up) and concentrated on the concrete barrier rather than the gorgeous view as a background.