Lost In Orbit

[rorythomas]

Cuba In Pictures

[rorythomas]

Guajira Getaway

If you’ve been following my travels on Facebook, you’ll know that I’ve had, what most would call, a rough week. From hostels being overbooked to dealing with completely incompetent customer service representatives to my first bout of severe food poisoning in almost 10 months – those frustrations aside, I’ve actually had a fantastic week spent exploring La Guajira in Colombia’s north.

On January 8th I departed Santa Marta for Riohacha – a 3 hour bus journey that brought me to one of Colombia’s less touristic cities. Riohacha is the gateway for backpackers wishing to explore the remote coastal deserts of La Guajira, close to the border of Venezuela. Following my trek to Ciudad Perdida with Expotur, I decided to book a 3 day off-road adventure to Punta Gallinas with the same company. (And while I wish I could rave about Expotur again this time around, I have to be honest and say that, while the scenery was breathtaking, the food and service was appalling – more on that in a moment.)

On the morning of my departure I met two other travellers in my hostel who were doing the same tour as me – Karin & Paul from Holland. We got to know each other while we waited for our (stereotypically late) driver to arrive. He seemed nice enough, but he didn’t speak any English, which meant I had to rely on my fellow travellers to translate what he was saying. (Most of the time I had no idea what was going on.) I definitely don’t expect everyone in Colombia to speak English, but if you work for a tour company that caters to both local and international clients, then you should probably speak at least some English. Joining Karin, Paul & I on the tour was Patrícia (Patch), a fellow backpacker from Brazil and a Colombian couple, Cristian & Mari.

On Day 1 we left Riohacha for Cabo de la Vela – a remote desert village surrounded by picturesque beaches and some of the most breathtaking natural landscapes in Colombia. On our way we stopped at a town, where our driver suggested we buy some candy and water to give to the local children. At the time it seemed like a really sweet idea, however, I didn’t really want to buy candy, since many of the children living in Colombia’s rural and indigenous communities don’t have access to good dental care and given how widespread tooth decay is, I didn’t want to contribute to what’s already a massive problem for many developing communities around the world – so I bought 20 bags of water instead (that’s right, water comes in bags here).

Throughout our journey we saw hundreds of kids standing on the side of the road, blocking oncoming traffic with long pieces of rope, usually tied to a tree on the other side. We quickly learnt that this is a tactic they use to slow vehicles…so they can demand treats. That’s right – what we thought was going to be a kind and thoughtful gesture for the local children was actually a form of bribery. Now when I say we saw hundreds of kids doing this, I’m not exaggerating for dramatic effect. There was one stretch of road where roughly every 25 metres or so we would encounter one of these “road blocks”, resulting in me having to wind down my window to pass out candy and water to uncomfortably ecstatic kids.

I learnt quite quickly that economically challenged kids in Colombia aren’t all that different to spoiled white kids in Australia – and that they can be just as vicious and greedy. I saw older kids take handfuls of candy and refuse to share any of it with their younger siblings (who couldn’t reach the window). And when we inevitably ran out of supplies and had to explain that we had nothing left to give, the reactions we received were nasty. Our guide assured us that of these children are well fed and that this is just something they do on their weekends and during school holidays for fun, but it reminded me that not all cases of Western “generosity” contribute to local tourism in an ethical and sustainable way.

When we finally reached Cabo de la Vela we checked-in to our accomodation (a hut full of hammocks) and sat down to lunch. The food was…not good…and to make matters worse, I ended up with a case of severe food poisoning that had me squirting like a fucking water Pokémon for 3 days. (Sorry for the visual…)

Before it hit I was able to explore a bit more of Cabo de la Vela, including Cerro Kamachi (also known as el Pilón de Azúcar or “The Sugar Pylon”) and the adjacent beach below.

The following day we carved our way through the coastal desert to Punta Gallinas – South America’s northernmost point and home to some of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen. We climbed sand dunes, went swimming in the Caribbean Sea, ate more bad food (seriously, some of the worst I’ve ever eaten) and played cards before retiring to our hammocks for the night. Punta Gallinas is breathtakingly beautiful and what makes it even more special is how relatively untouched it is (unlike Tayrona National Park…but that’s a story for another day).

On Day 3 we made our way back to Riohacha via the Manaure Salt Flats. If it seems like I’m now skimming over a lot of details it’s because all I remember from Day 2 onwards is constant intestinal cramping and the all-consuming thought that one bad bump or an unexpected sneeze and it was all over for me. (I’m talking about sharting my shorts, in case that wasn’t blatant enough.)

Overall though, exploring La Guajira was an amazing adventure – I just wish some of those mishaps could have been avoided.

[rorythomas]

Ringing In The New Year...In The Jungle

After 4 days of hiking through the Sierra Nevada mountain range, you’d think I’d be done with the jungle – but less than 24 hours after returning to the city I was ready to leave Santa Marta once again, this time for the peace and tranquility of Minca.

A 45 minute commute in a collectivo taxi brought me to the small village, situated roughly 20kms south-east of Santa Marta. However, I wasn’t planning on staying in Minca itself – on the Colombian backpacker trail, there is one place every traveller knows they must stay while on the Caribbean coast...and that is Casa Elemento – a hostel, perched on the edge of a mountain...1,200 metres above sea level.

Not only does it overlook both the village of Minca and the city of Santa Marta, but on a clear day you can even see the ocean, all from the comfort of one of its many oversized hammocks.

There are 3 ways to reach Casa Elemento from Minca – the cheapest option is to hike uphill for 3 hours...which wouldn’t be such a challenge, had I not just hiked 47kms. The most comfortable option is to hire a private jeep...but unless you have the numbers to fill it, that can be costly. The quickest and most efficient option is to jump on the back of a moto-taxi – and while it’s not exactly the safest option, it only set me back 20,000 COP ($9 Australian). Cut to me speeding up a mountain trail on the back of some Colombian guy’s bike. I’m not going to lie – I saw my life flash before my eyes a few times during the 30 minute ride, but it was hella fun. (So much so that I opted for a moto-taxi on my way back down too.)

While at Casa Elemento I stayed in one of the dorms, which happened to have its own private hammock. It’s been a while since I’ve stayed in such a social hostel – the family style dinners and lack of wifi made connecting with other travellers a whole lot easier and I met some really great people while I was there.

On New Years Eve I split a bottle of red wine with one of the girls I met there and, lounging on the giant swinging hammock, wrapped in our blankets, we watched sporadic firework displays illuminate various neighbourhoods in the lead up to midnight. It was definitely the most memorable New Years Eve of my life.

[rorythomas]

Exploring Colombia’s Lost City

Last week I signed up for something that, for a very long time, I never thought I would be physically capable of completing – my first multi-day trek.

It's been a little over a year since I discovered my passion for hiking in Southern China, after unknowingly committing myself to an overnight trek through Tiger Leaping Gorge. At the time, I remember feeling anxious that I would be slower than everyone else or that my joints would lock-up or that I would need to be rescued somehow – but none of those things happened. In fact, it turned out that I was far more capable than I realised. Since that adventure in October of 2015 I haven't really stopped – in 2016 I completed roughly 25 hikes throughout 4 continents. Some only took me an hour or so, while others saw me covering 19 kilometres in a single day. Still, I had yet to face my fears and attempt a multi-day trek.

Long before travelling to Colombia I remember reading about the Lost City Teyuna, more famously known as "Ciudad Perdida" – the remains of an ancient city located in the Sierra Nevada mountain range and founded by the Tayrona people around 800 AD (predating Machu Picchu by roughly 650 years).

Unlike Machu Picchu, the site is accessible solely by foot – a 47 kilometre round trip through the Sierra Nevada mountain range – 1,200 metres above sea level.

My adventure began in Santa Marta on a sunny Tuesday morning between Boxing Day & New Years Eve. As you might imagine, this is a popular time of year for people to visit Ciudad Perdida. I travelled with one of the more reputable companies, Expotur, which had so many people sign-up that they divided us into 4 groups. My group consisted of 15 hikers – a German couple, 2 trilingual Italian women, an Irish lady and her low-key racist husband, 6 Indian men who had been studying in the USA and Steve & Sarah – a brother and sister from Seattle who I am now lucky to call my friends. Accompanying us were the amazing Jhon Jairo & Juan Diego – our guide and translator (respectively).

Our journey began with a bumpy 2 hour van ride to the town of El Mamey (known more colloquially as "Macheté"). It was an uncomfortable start to our adventure and I spent a good hour of that drive sitting on what I later realised was a bag of watermelons. In El Mamey we had lunch before finally hitting the trail.

I don't want to bore you with all the details of the trek itself, but here's a summary of what we experienced over those 4 days...

A lot of uphill hiking, a lot of downhill hiking, getting caught in the rain, an excessive amount of mud, multiple river crossings, sleeping in hammocks, bathing under waterfalls, swimming in the Buritaca River, lots of pineapple, toucans and howler monkeys, learning about the semi-nomadic Kogui & Wiwa tribes that live in the area and hanging out with the indigenous kids and finally, climbing the 1,200 stone steps to Ciudad Perdida, where we explored a handful of the 169 terraces that are carved into the mountainside.

It was an unforgettable experience and one that I can proudly say I beasted. I walked away with an enormous sense of accomplishment, 2 busted knees (I fell down...) and a backpack that smelt worse than an abattoir – but it was 100% worth it.

[rorythomas]

Hiking Valle de Cocora

Before I begin this story, I suppose I should explain how I got here – here being Salento, Colombia. Last week I bid “adios” to México, following 2 months of incredible adventures. Geographically speaking, México and Colombia aren’t that far apart – nevertheless, my journey was arduous. To cut a very long and mundane story short – I woke up at 5.30am, took a cab from my airBNB to the bus stop in Todos Santos, caught a bus to San Jose del Cabo, then a second bus to Los Cabos Airport from which I flew back to Mexico City, where I boarded a second flight to Bogota. 19 hours later, I arrived – sick, tired and dehyrated. I continued to feel this way for the next 3 days – I was so run-down that it didn’t even occur to me that I was also suffering from altitude sickness. (I had just travelled from a tranquil beach town to a mega-city, 2,640 metres above sea level.) 

To be completely frank, I didn’t love Bogota – and I don’t think that’s solely because I felt like I was going through menopause for 3 days. Sometimes big cities are just...boring – and while I had fun exploring the different neighbourhoods and reuniting with my friend Miguel (who I met in Kuala Lumpur, back in April), Bogota certainly didn’t contend with my favourite Latin American mega-cities – Buenos Aires, Mexico City & Montevideo.

On Wednesday I departed Bogota for Salento, a colonial town (and backpacking haven) surrounded by Andean mountains and located roughly 300kms west of the nation’s capital. This is what I signed up for when I decided to come to Colombia – amazing natural beauty, fresh air and quaint streets, dotted with charming houses.

Salento is also the gateway to Valle de Cocora (Cocora Valley), a cloud forest located in Los Nevados National Park. The valley is home to Colombia’s national tree and symbol – the Quindío wax palm – the world’s tallest palm tree (growing up to 60 metres in height).

My day began with me rising at 7am to catch a jeep from Salento to the entrance of Valle de Cocora. I was a little concerned about doing a high altitude hike when I had only just aclimated a day earlier, but I was determined to conquer it. Equipped with a hand drawn map and what I hoped would be enough water for the 15km trek, I headed straight to the end of the loop. You might be wondering why I started there, rather than leaving the most rewarding moment until the end – and my reason is that Valle de Cocora is known for afternoon downpours and I didn’t want getting caught in the rain to ruin the experience for me. So at 8am, while the sky was still blue and the mist had yet to roll in, I strolled through a green field of enormous wax palms. I felt like I was walking through the pages of a Dr. Seuss book – it was so surreal. 

From there I made my way through the trail loop in reverse – a decision I’m really happy about as the hike between the wax palms and my next destination, the Acaime Natural Reserve, was kind of boring. (That is, the terrain was boring – the views were cool – but I’m glad I got that out of the way in the beginning.) When I reached Acaime, I was the only hiker there and for the 10 minutes that I had the reserve to myself, I got to watch dozens of hummingbirds flutter around – it was so serene (until the other hikers arrived...)

I continued on my way and completed the loop, crossing swing bridges, walking through shallow streams and treading on muddy log-paths along the way. The entire journey took me just under 4.5 hours – which includes the time I spent getting lost and wondering where the fuck I was (this is what happens when I hike alone). The drive back to Salento was pretty epic too – the jeep I planned on taking was full, so I had to stand on the back and hold onto the roof-rack for 20 minutes as the wind swept through my (lack of) hair. I guess you could say today was quite the adventure!

[rorythomas]

Celebrating Dia De Los Muertos In Mexico

For the past 10 days I’ve been based in San Miguel de Allende – a colonial town that captured my heart when I came here initially, back in 2015. I spent a full month here in the lead up to Easter – the longest I've stayed in any one place since I left home 21 months ago. (My life has been extremely fast-paced since then...) I had the most magical time here and for over a year my heart yearned to return...so I did. San Miguel is my 2nd favourite city on Earth (after New Orleans, of course) and for 5 of the 10 days that I spent here I was lucky enough to stay in the same airBNB that I rented last year. It brought back so many beautiful memories and it was great to simply chill out, cook my own food and fall asleep to the city lights, twinkling outside my studio window.

On Saturday my friend Shay made the 25 hour journey from Sydney to San Miguel de Allende, to join me for 3 weeks of backpacking across Mexico. Shay is one of the few people I know who appreciates this highly under-rated country as much as I do...and who has actually spent more time here than I have. Shay & I met a year and a half ago on an Intrepid tour – a life-changing adventure that began in Mexico City and saw us travel east, through cities such as Puebla, Oaxaxa, San Cristobal de las Casas, Palenque, Merida & Playa del Carmen. This month we're going to be heading west from San Miguel de Allende to Morelia, Pátzcuaro, Guadalajara, Puerto Vallarta & San Pancho.

Shay arrived here just in time for La Calaca – a 4 day celebration, built around Dia de los Muertos (better known to most Westerners as “Day Of The Dead”). I've dreamt of experiencing Dia de los Muertos for years now and while there are certainly bigger festivities throughout the country (Pátzcuaro & Oaxaca host two of the more extravagant and “authentic” celebrations), San Miguel is renowned for being super embracing of non-Mexicans who are keen to experience the festival.

We kicked things off with some much needed relaxation – a spa day at Shanti (a private oasis, located 30 minutes from centro). We had this sanctuary all to ourselves and spent the day sun-bathing, swimming, eating fish tacos and indulging in aroma-therapy massages. For $800 pesos each (that’s roughly $55 Australian) it was awesome value for money and all-in-all, a day well spent. In the afternoon we headed back to our hostel, got changed, downed some (extremely spicy) pozole verde and made our way to Jardin Principal, where literally thousands of people (locals and gringos alike) dressed as Catrines/Catrinas flooded the streets – what we witnessed was overwhelmingly spectacular. After deliberating all day about the degree to which we wanted to involve ourselves, we eventually decided to get our faces painted (not realising how painfully long the process would be). After waiting in line for more than 2 hours, I was finally in the chair with some Mexican guy liberally applying purple paint to my eye-lids.

By the time our make-up was done, the skies had opened and the rain had all but cleared out the streets, but we still managed to get some killer photos and overall, the experience was epic. It lived up to and exceeded all of my expectations.

Unlike Halloween, Dia de los Muertos isn't just about dressing up and collecting candy – it's about honouring and celebrating the lives of your deceased relatives and throughout the city, there are hundreds of beautifully decorated altars to be found.

Dia de los Muertos was such a highlight of my return to Mexico and a festival that everyone should experience at least once in their life!

[rorythomas]

Conquering Peña de Bernal

Todays epiphany – I need to take up rock climbing. On Tuesday evening I arrived in Santiago de Querétaro, a city 250km northwest of Mexico City. This is my 2nd time visiting Querétaro – long story short, I travelled here last year (during the month I spent in San Miguel de Allende) for what ended up being a really wonderful Tinder date. In my opinion, it’s one of Mexico’s more overlooked cities – the food scene is excellent (and much cheaper than nearby San Miguel), the people are friendly and it maintains the charm of a colonial town without sacrificing all the luxuries of a more cosmopolitan city.

There are many reasons to return to Querétaro, but hiking Peña de Bernal was No. 1 on my list. San Sebastian Bernal is a colonial town, 45 minutes east of Querétaro and is home to the world’s tallest freestanding rock – Peña de Bernal. 433 metres high and rising 2,510 metres above sea level, Peña de Bernal is so massive that, on a clear day, you can see it from 50km away. On Wednesday morning I made my way out to Bernal to conquer this enormous monolith.

It was a short but strenuous trek – what’s great about Bernal is that the trail involves a combination of both hiking and scrambling (and, if you’re up for it, even free-climbing). You can’t actually reach the summit through hiking alone – the trail leads you about 2/3 of the way up, but you need proper rock climbing equipment if you want to reach the top safely. I managed to free-climb another 30m or so before I found the permanent climbing pegs. I made it up to about the 4th peg before I realised how much danger I was putting myself in. I’m not really scared of heights and I have no doubt that I’m physically capable of reaching the top, but even I was hesitant to go any further without the proper equipment. So while I conquered the trail, I didn’t actually conquer Peña de Bernal. One day I hope to return, so that I can finish what I started.

[rorythomas]

In Search Of Pueblo Fantasma

On Sunday I departed San Luis Potosí for the former silver mining town of Real de Catorce, one of Mexico’s magical cities and the setting of “The Mexican” – a 2001 film starring Brad Pitt & Julia Roberts.

Getting there was somewhat arduous – I had to take a 2 hour bus from San Luis Potosí to Matehuala, then another 2 hour bus from Matehuala to the opening of Tunel de Ogarrio (the only way in and out of Real de Catorce). Normally you would then take a pick-up truck through the 2.5km long tunnel, however I happened to be travelling on a festival weekend and the tunnel was closed to all vehicles – so instead, visitors were transported through the tunnel using carts, drawn by mules. It was a pretty cool experience. There were literally thousands of Mexican tourists roaming the streets when I arrived, which wasn’t exactly what I imagined when I pictured a former mining settlement. (Things calmed down the following day.)

I spent the next 30 minutes searching for my hotel on foot. Following months of sleeping in tents, cabins, dorms, overnight trains and even on picnic tables, I decided to treat myself this weekend. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I had the best view in the entire town – in addition to 4 queen size beds, my room came equipped with a private balcony that overlooked the entire valley below. It was magical and I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sunsets I witnessed there – and for $70 AUD a night, it was actually cheaper than some of the hostels I stayed at in the USA & Western Europe.

As I walked around town, several charros (Mexican cowboys) offered to take me down into the valley to find peyote – a small, hallucinogenic cactus, native to Mexico’s Chihuahuan Desert. Many Western tourists actually travel to Real de Catorce just so they can try peyote (even though it is very much illegal to do so). Here’s the thing – I’m totally open to trying new things, but I seldom make decisions without seriously considering the consequences of my actions. On one hand, I really do want to ingest peyote one day – but I’m also aware that you need to prepare for that kind of experience (in terms of fasting)...and the last thing you want to do in Mexico is get caught with any sort of drug – natural or otherwise. What really turned me off trying it though was that I felt ethically conflicted about contributing to the depletion of a plant that is integral to the culture and ceremonial practices of the Wixarika (Huichol) indigenous people. There’s a huge sustainability problem at the moment as a result of peyote tourism and I think it’s super important to be respectful of local communities in that regard. (Imagine if so many Mexicans started buying Vegemite that there was none left for us.)

Anyhow, I figure there’s many ways to get high when you’re travelling through Mexico, so on Monday morning I decided to go hiking in search of Pueblo Fantasma – the site of some more silver mining ruins, located on top of one of the many mountains that surround Real de Catorce. While there is a clear path to follow, there are no signs or maps to guide you, so I asked an elderly man on the street which way I needed to head and he kindly pointed me in the right direction.

I don’t know if it’s because of the high altitude, or the Mexican sun (even in winter it can be unforgiving) or the fact that I haven’t hiked in roughly 6 weeks, but I struggled for the first 30 minutes or so...then I found what I was looking for. I guess if you were to ask what my travel philosophy is, I would say “If it can be climbed, I shall climb it.” I spent the next 2 hours or so wandering around, scaling the remains of former buildings and wondering what they were once used for. There’s something super eerie about being the only person in an abandoned settlement – I didn’t see any other people on that mountain all day.

I woke this morning, prepared for a long travel day. This was the plan – walk from my hotel back to Tunel de Ogarrio, take a pick-up truck to the entrance on the other side of the mountain, board a 2 hour bus from Real de Catorce to Matehuala, wait a couple of hours, then board a 6 hour bus to Querétaro.

I'm not normally a breakfast person, but in rural Mexico, dinner seems to be the least important meal of the day, so I've had to massively alter my eating habits. I stopped for some gorditas on my way to Tunel de Ogarrio and finally tried picadillo, a regional dish prepared throughout the state of San Luis Potosí – it's essentially a combination of slow cooked ground beef, carrots and potatoes and it is often used as a filling for tacos and gorditas. Following breakfast I headed to the opening of the tunnel. I waited 20 minutes for a pick-up truck to deliver me to the other side of the mountain before I realised – it wasn't coming. There wasn't even a mule available this time. I looked at my phone – my bus back to Matehuala was meant to be leaving in 30 minutes. Cut to me power marching through a 2.5km long tunnel with 15kgs on my back. I don't think I've ever appreciated the "light at the end of the tunnel" metaphor quite so much...probably because, in this case, it wasn't just a figurative expression. I jumped on the bus, bought my ticket and made myself comfortable in the front seat. The rest of my journey went (more or less) as planned and 12 hours after leaving my hotel in Real de Catorce I arrived at my hostel in Querétaro.

[rorythomas]

Stranded In A Mexican Ghost Town

On Friday I departed Mexico City for San Luis Potosí – a charming colonial city 6 hours north of the nation’s capital by bus. It was there that I learnt of a former mining town from my English speaking Uber driver, Joel (that’s “Hoe-el”). Cerro de San Pedro – approximately 20 kilometres from my hostel in downtown San Luis – a village that was once a settlement for gold and silver mining but is now all but abandoned. This morning I called an Uber and headed out to San Pedro, hoping to take a few photos. The drive itself was pretty great – there’s nothing quite like staring out the window and watching the Mexican countryside roll by. The abundant cacti, the hills that literally sparkle in the sunshine. When I arrived I asked my driver if he would wait for me while I took a few photos. His response was “no”. Cut to me, stranded in a Mexican ghost town. Thankfully I wasn’t the only person there...there were some Mexican tourists checking it out and a handful of excavators standing around pretending to work, but I was, without question, the only gringo there.

The centre of the village has been turned into, what I guess you could call an “open-air museum”, with signs indicating what certain buildings were once used for. Most of the buildings have been preserved to some extent, but the ruins are what really caught my attention. When you imagine exploring Mexican ruins, Chichen Itza & Teotihuacan are generally what spring to mind – not the remains of a mining settlement. (That said – modern ruins are fascinating in their own right.)

When I was done walking around the village, I pulled out my phone to call an Uber. I guess one thing that I hadn’t fully considered was that ghost towns don’t get the best cell-phone service. And they definitely don’t come equipped with Wifi. I stopped for a moment to consider my options. My first thought was to hitch hike...but with the number of recent kidnappings in San Luis, that didn’t register as the wisest idea. I could walk the 20kms back to my hostel (which I’m certainly capable of) but I only had one bottle of water and again, getting accosted was something I kind of wanted to avoid. I decided my best bet was to simply walk until I could get cell service again.

Looking back – I don’t regret that decision. As I moved further away from the settlement, the landscape actually became more intriguing. More ruins, less signs and no people. I took my solitude as an opportunity to climb some former buildings for a different perspective. When I’d seen all there was to see, I continued walking back towards civilisation. It was an unexpected Tinder notification that alerted me to the fact that I once again had signal – well, one bar of signal. I sat on the side of the road and called an Uber and 25 minutes later, Rafael arrived to take me back to the city.