From nearly the beginning I was bored with Popayan. It feels like a pleasant place to live and it's chock full of cool churches as one of the most famous Semana Santa destinations in the world, but for a tourist very little is happening. I figured I'd find a cheap room, have a walk about for a few snaps, and then be on my way.
I didn't even like the cheap hostel I had found and the woman running it appeared to be so indiffernt that I wouldn't have been surprised if she really didn't care if I'd stayed or not.
Cut to three days later and I was thinking of adding another day, was best pals with the propietor and her two cool dogs, and was stinking to high heaven of sulfur. When I decided to just take it easy and not be such a tourist, ie. not try to find all the "not to miss" stuff and just pretend like I lived there it became a completely different place.
The proprietor melted into the most beautiful smile after I told her my wife volunteers for the
ASPCA, loves dogs and it was because her hostel is dog-friendly that I chose it. She was even more thrilled when I made a quick portrait of her canine children and emailed it to her. The smaller dog kept trying to mount the larger one while she told me about a place called Coconuco. I tried to pretend I didn't see the little guy going for it as I paid attention to the directions.
Just an hour later I was in the mountains and mounting the back of a motorcycle that would take me up the mountain to some thermal baths. Ahhhhh! The only part of the scene that threatened to ruin it all was that the teen-aged Colombian girls working the gate kept putting Justin Beiber's hit single on repeat. After the absurdity of myself and a few other Colombians soaking in the scalding thermal baths without a care in the world and nodding a bit to the boy Beiber's fresh beats, I had to laugh to myself.
It also rained off and on which actually enhanced the experience as the whole area would become swallowed up by cloud and thermal steam. I can't believe I almost blew right through the area without even giving it a chance.
I almost forgot to ask what time the last bus back to Popayan was and then it started to rain a bit harder. I'd been told that there was a trail where I could get back to the village below in about 15 minutes, but woman running the place strongly suggested I take the main dirt road back because of the dogs. I have encountered my fair share of wild dogs in Latin America and decided to heed her warning.
There were no motorcycles to take me back to the village, but the walk was incredibly beautiful and worth the trip alone. I even considered going back to Popayan to get my backpack and find a room to rent right there in the mountains. The walk would have actually just taken the half hour promised had I not kept stopping to capture more images. There was a good chance I'd even miss that last bus but I didn't even care. Just as I made the village, a small collectivo pulled up next to me. The driver opened the door and asked "Popayan?"
Areas like Coconuco near Popayan were where I would have likely found an ayahuasca arrangement, but my realization that actually seeking out a concoction that would intentionally cause temporary insanity, had not faded. For now I just want to focus on clarity and soaking up all the details I can absorb.
There is so much to see here and so far every place feels significantly different. Not just the look of each location, but the culture and people as well. The excitement of discovering the vast differences of each new locale has me hungry to move on, but I must keep reminding myself to try to relax a bit and let stuff just happen as it may.
I left Popayan for Cali where I am now. Tonight will be my third night here and I may go ahead an move on down the road toward coffee plantations. Cali is a strange place. Very interesting, but I don't feel comfortable or safe here at all. Some areas are reasonably safe but it can change very quickly to constantly guarding your bag and hoping you don't get jumped and or stabbed.
More on Cali once I get to the next destination and have had enough time to let the paranoia fade and digest the good bits.
Hasta,
Skip