Sometimes it’s an adventure just getting to a destination.  Popayan, with its many churches and white buildings, was full of religious visitors for the many Pascal processions and Easter ceremonies but we left its busy streets to head to San Agustin, a small town not far from the border with Ecuador.  Why did we want to go to San Augustin, a place that was slightly off the Gringo Trail? Well, a young Swiss couple and an older American couple that we met along our travels, both told us that it was their favorite place in all of Colombia, so we felt that we had to go there.

We had been pleasantly surprised by the level of comfort on most Colombian buses with their  ample legroom and seat allocation ….but not on this journey. We crammed into a small bus with stained green velvet covers and set off on our 130 kms journey south to San Augustin. This bus had all the hallmarks of a well-rattled boneshaker. Caoimhin’s knees were wedged against the seat in front, my elbow was out the window so that we could both fit in the narrow seats. The journey was scheduled to take an optimistic 4 hours, but the bus-driver admitted that the time was variable and depended on road conditions, part of the way took us on dirt roads through the Parque Nacional Natural Purace, with its ring of volcanos and deep canyons.

The windows on the bus were so dirty that they were almost opaque and so the scenery, which was probably spectacular, was just a blurry green. The journey wasn’t too bad for me until we reached the uneven dirt-road part although Caoimhin had almost lost feeling in his legs. It started to rain and the driver danced the bus around the road to avoid potholes regardless of the oncoming traffic and blaring horns😲 Luggage spilled from overhead bags with the constant shuddering, some potatoes rolled down the aisle and a small dog whimpered in the arms of a man in the seat opposite us. We stopped at a roadside restaurant after the dirt road bit so that our generously proportioned driver could munch his way through soup and a hearty portion of rice and goat stew, I managed some water and a bite of cheese empanada (a kind of south American pastry). But after five and three-quarter hours, we arrived in San Agustin and creaked off the bus to make our way to our Airbnb, a steep uphill 1km from town.

San Agustín was a small traditional place where wandering goats were common in the streets and the houses were brightly painted, where farming was the main occupation…as well as chatting, they were big talkers.  It was deep in the Andes mountains, a place of steep terrain, high peaks, and yawning canyons. In many ways, it had a Garden of Eden feel, papayas fell from the trees outside our accommodation, mangoes were ripening on the bushes, there were oranges, coffee and bananas and a whole host of flowering shrubs There was rain and lots of it every day but there was also heat and sunshine with cool mornings and chilly nights…we even needed a blanket on the bed. We spent six days here and the longer we stayed, the more we liked it.

San Augustin’s claim to fame is that it has the largest archaeological area in Colombia with imposing stone statues and petroglyphs (stone carvings) as well as a whole series of burial mounds, cobbled paths and terraces. This is all that remains  of the mysterious civilizations that disappeared long before the arrival of the Spanish. Archaeologists are still puzzling over the nature and symbolism of the hundreds of stone statues scattered over a wide area. Were they making offerings, a form of protection, a bridge to the spirit world or simply pondering on life and the afterlife?

We visited an isolated site on a dramatic hillside overlooking the Magdalena River where a two-thousand-year-old petroglyph stood. Both arms were held up either in wonder at the surrounding beauty or in dismay at the destruction in the world. But when there was only an oral tradition and the original purpose is long-lost in the mists of time, everyone can bring their own interpretations. Centuries from now, will future generations wonder about us when our words are lost on obsolete computer devices?

Given the ferns and grass growing on the stones on the hillside, one has to wonder what other figures may remain hidden away from modern eyes.

One interesting point was that everyday spaces were not separated from the great tombs, people lived around the funeral centers, life and death existed in a state of constant interaction with many rituals for the living and the spirit world.  

Easter was also a time of ritual and celebration in San Augustin. The beautiful church in the main plaza was not just full on Good Friday and Holy Saturday…..it was overflowing with fold- up chairs arranged in the aisles and in rows outside the church door. A huge screen was set up in the plaza outside the church and the prayers and singing were broadcast to the town during the week. There was a candle-lit procession through the streets on Saturday evening at about 7pm but normal business continued with shops and businesses still open….people were getting their hair cut and eating in restaurants as the banners and statues passed by.

This wild dramatic landscape was shaped by stone and water. Five rivers have their birthplace in the region including the mighty Magdelena, the longest river in Columbia which flows north for 1525kms until it reaches the Caribbean. We have crossed and recrossed it many times during this trip but now it was time to get into it. We booked a rafting trip for Easter Sunday to finally get up-close and personal with this important natural phenomenon.

Anvil, another very talkative man, picked us up in his jeep to take us to the river on a cloudy overcast Easter Sunday morning. Our rafting companions were a lovely young Colombian couple. Luis and Dhiana. Luis was big and strong, and looked like someone who could handle the raft single-handedly. I was delighted thinking that I wouldn’t have to pull my weight on the boat but appearances can be deceiving.  Luis feared the water and had only recently begun taking swimming lessons.  He and Caoimhin started as the ‘captains,’ but after we nearly capsized at the first two rapids, Dhiana and I were promoted to the front seats and the lads were demoted and it became a less exciting trip after that as we navigated the rapids without too much incident.  But we had such a great laugh, and it was a thrilling way to view the stunning scenery and watch the flitting birdlife. Tough work on the shoulders, though.

Our next stop was Villavieje, a little town almost at sea level at the edge of the Tatacoa Desert, the second largest arid region in Columbia and a seven-hour journey from San Augustin. We arrived at about 4pm – the last section on the back of a jeep – and stepped into a dense sleepy heat. Immediately we were missing the freshness of the mountains, unused to such energy-sapping conditions after all our weeks at higher altitudes. Fortunately, our hotel had a nice pool (€25 a night including breakfast) where we cooled off with a family from Bogota and their two small boys.

The Tatacoa Desert is famous for its clear skies and is designated a ‘clear skies zone’ with observatories dotted on the landscape. Some give astronomy talks and we jumped at the chance to learn more about the night skies and to look through giant telescopes. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the observatory for the nightly tour, it was closed, maybe because of the gathering clouds and the small distant flashes of lightning.

I already said that it was one of the most arid regions in Colombia but not while we were there. The rain started at about 8pm, quickly became a downpour that lasted all night with thunder and lightning that blinked the lights several times and finally doused the power altogether. This meant that there was no air conditioning nor fans all night in temperatures that were a windless clammy 30C. It was hot rain in the desert.

The rain had eased to a drizzle the following morning when Ramiro, a tuk-tuk driver that we hired the night before, pulled up outside our hotel at 7,30am. Breakfast was the usual scrambled eggs and arepas (a corn flatbread which is ubiquitous in Colombia and eaten with every meal).  We set off on our trip to the Tatacoa Desert, which isn’t a true desert – and not just because of the rain we experienced – it is a dry tropical forest of rock with a landscape of canyons forming stunning dry red and grey labyrinths and deep gullies. Ramiro only had two words of English – ‘money’ and ‘Wow’. He loved money and Wow! was what the tourists said when they saw the desert. It was truly an outer worldly place where the red and grey colours were interpersed by the vivid green of giant cacti or other bushes. Its also home to snakes, scorpions and a wide variety of birds. We saw the birds but not the snakes or scorpions but we were delighted to see a very cute anteater.

The rain had turned the clay surface into a slippery sticky mud that caked our shoes so much it was like walking on heavy stilts. On the other hand, the clouds kept the temperatures to a manageable 30C which made walking among the wrinkled lab a more pleasant experience.

Now we have arrived in Bogota in damp drizzle and 17C for our last weekend before leaving for home on Monday evening. We are back to where we started three months ago, having experienced so much in mountain, sea and desert. This time we are staying in the city centre in a thirteenth-floor apartment, with views of the mountains and the city streets. The small apartment is a well designed, insulated box with a rooftop pool, restaurant and jacuzzi (which we haven’t used yet because of the cold and damp but the weather is set to improve tomorrow). It’s the most expensive place we have stayed  at €37 a night but then cool and trendy doesn’t come cheap🙃 It’s  very different to our usual sort of place and we are certainly older, shabbier and more disheveled than most of the young slick clientele but that doesn’t bother us in the least😀

Thanks for sharing the journey with us. Hope you enjoyed it as much as we did.

Hasta luego, amigos , 💕