Exploring the Sierra Nevada

We had already spent a week in Santa Marta and, as we were only intending to stay one month in Colombia, we needed to start exploring this fascinating country.   Early one morning our group of four intrepid explorers made our way towards the busy fruit, vegetable and everything in between market.   Stalls spilled out into the road as vehicles tried to squeeze their way through past pedestrians and vendors who wandered out into the traffic without a second look.   It seemed totally disorganised as people yelled across the street at each other, drivers shouted at pedestrians and beeped horns, but traffic moved and market stalls had customers and the numerous police we saw on motorcycles and cars turned a blind eye, so the system must work!     As we tried to find the bus to take us to Minca, we passed a large butcher shop displaying meat in large cabinets and at the end of the counter stood a tough looking guard with a large automatic rifle slung across his chest with his finger on the trigger.  We moved on quickly with a passing thought of what dead remains might have been in the display cabinet of the empty shop!

I’m embarrassed to say that our Spanish is non-existent, limited to words of pleasantries or thanks.  Even though I tried learning at least one word a day, my vocabulary was appallingly bad so having Nicki with her good grip of the language was a huge advantage.  She managed to organise our bus tickets and get us safely on the waiting bus which wouldn’t leave until all the seats were full – no bus timetables here! 

Although there are no timetables, the bus driver appeared to have a schedule of his own and, with passengers bags tied to the roof and a bus crammed with people, he drove like he was in training for a formula one race, overtaking on blind corners and speeding up the narrow hill roads.   It was a relief to arrive in Minca 40 minutes later, stepping out into the relatively quiet streets of the hillside settlement.   

Motorbikes are the main form of transport in this area and the constant drone of a bike is never far away, often ladened with mum, dad and child(ren), none wearing helmets as they negotiate the potholed roads.   The children were balanced between parents, youngest at the front between dad’s legs (we sometimes saw this child asleep resting their head on the handlebars), second child between parents and mum at the rear, often holding shopping!    

Minca is the main town for the rural hillside communities that stretch out across the Sierra Nevada.   It has an old frontier town feel to it with small buildings lining the rutted roads that have been washed out with the heavy rains that fall in the rainforest that Minca is in the midst of.   Brightly coloured birds darted passed us as we walked towards our accommodation, perched high up a steep long pathway overlooking the forest and down towards Santa Marta in the far distance.  The relative coolness of the temperature was a welcome relief after the sticky heat of the city, which is why Minca has become a popular place for locals to come to escape the summer temperatures in the lower areas.  

Our accommodation was part of a hostel offering varying types of sleeping options from hammocks under a thatched roof shelter to dormitories in the main building and separate thatched huts for those wanting a little more privacy – like us!    We seemed to have scored the chiefs hut as it appeared to be the largest one in the group and accommodated the four of us on two levels, accessing the mezzanine floor by a ladder.    As the sun set everyone staying at the hostel gathered on a large deck to watch the sun go down and listen to music, watching birds and bats darting below and around us as they caught flies in the fading light.   All this for less than US$30 a night B&B per couple! 

Next morning we were up early for a birdwatching tour with our knowledgeable and enthusiastic guide, Martin.   We walked through the forest with Martin pointing out birds along the way as we all trained our binoculars in the general direction he was excitedly pointing!   It was a fabulous trip with some of the highlights being a Toucan which was nesting, a flock of Macaws flying overhead and, right at the end of the walk, a pygmy owl that Martin was determined to find after hearing it calling close by.   The Pygmy is the smallest owl in the world and very hard to find so we were lucky to have such a close encounter.  

Later that day we headed to Victoria, an organic coffee plantation nestled in the hills and still using the old method of natural flowing water and sunlight to process the beans.   The manager took us for a tour, explaining the long and laborious steps taken to ensure we can enjoy a cup of coffee!  There are several steps in the process, but the only one that is labour intensive is the picking, everything else can be done by one person.  It seemed quite incredible to me that anyone could have come up with the idea of doing all the rinsing, separating, drying, roasting and grinding so we can enjoy a hot drink!   

We left the plantation, passing huge clumps of bamboo nestled in the thick forest and climbed up into the hills, expertly driven by Alfredo who we had hired for the afternoon.   We wanted to go to an Indian village and understand more about how the aboriginal people live.   It was clear that the population of full-bloodied native Indians was greater in Minca than in Santa Marta which is inter-racial with Africans, Europeans, Asians and Indians living harmoniously together, so it is wonderfully impossible to tell where someone’s past family was from.    We were in a remote area when we spotted a man walking up the long, narrow, steep road.   Alfredo stopped and told the man (we later learned was called Juan) to jump on the back and we’d give him a ride to the top of the hill.   Juan gave a beaming smile and jumped on the bumper, holding on to the roof rack as Alfredo increased speed.   After a quick conversation, we were invited to meet Juan’s family in his home, so turned down a very rocky road as Juan masterly continued to cling to the back of the truck.  

Juan lived in a round thatched house with his wife, two young children and an elderly woman I took to be either his or his wife’s mother or grandmother.   Juan showed us how they made twine from flax growing in their garden and dyed it using roots and berries to create bags, bracelets and clothing.  He took us to a meeting house where the community discuss local events and happenings and teach children their rituals and traditions.   Juan was such a gentle, beautiful person and we must have seemed like giants to him as we towered above his small frame following him back to his house watching his bandy assured walk as his children rushed out to greet us.   His children were gorgeous, full of cheeky happiness as their grandmother (who we think we had disturbed having a wash), head wrapped in a towel, tried to control them.    It was a very special meeting in a place with views over the surrounding valleys and tree tops.

As dark fell we started our return to Minca, watching a beautiful sunset as we descended further down the hillside.   As the sun disappeared the rain started and by the time we returned to Minca the roads already resembled rivers so we asked Alfredo to drop us at a local restaurant so we could wait for the rain to clear.   We enjoyed a lovely meal, watching the actual river increasing in volume and strength, as the heavens opened and lightning and thunder crashed around us, reverberating around the surrounding hills.  

Our time in Minca was coming to an end and we left behind the brightly coloured humming birds, clear air and chilled atmosphere to catch the bus back to Santa Marta, fortunately with a less urgent driver, who deposited us back into the hurly burly of the market area.

We returned to the boat for one day before starting our next adventure and going much further afield to continue exploring this fabulous country.