Four Cities in Four Days

We left Cartagena at 10pm, for an overnight bus to Medellin. After the 13 hour bus ride, and another bit via metro and taxi, we found ourselves at the posh Casa Kiwi. We found a room for three, then set out on the city.

Roof top, with pool and everything!

The view from the roof top patio.

Medellin is a very modern city, Colombia's only to have a metro- and a very clean and new one at that. It wasn't open to tourists until the past decade due to kidnappings and murder as a result of a strong drug cartel presence.

Medellin was the home to Pablo Escobar, who was assassinated in 1993. He got rich by selling coke, and offered $1,000 - $10,000 to anyone who killed a cop (depending on the cop's rank). He was also popular with the locals, as he used some of his great wealth to marginally improve their lives.

His death, as well as the general reigning in of drug lords by 2002-elected president Uribe, made Medellin a very popular place to visit. It's very chique, with tons of clubs and bars creating a very active nightlife. The 'old town' has nothing on Cartagena, but boasts some of the countries better museums and shopping. 

Not really our cup of tea, we began looking for the less-affluent areas....

One of Abra's friends back in LA, Angelica, is actually from this part of Colombia, and offered the services of her Uncle Augusto to take us to the poor part of town, Moravia.

Moravia used to be Medellin's dump. Literally. It was where Medellin's waste management trucks ended their day, and it was a pile of everything from plastic bags to carpet. Lured by the prospect of treasures ("One person's garbage is another person's treasure"), and fleeing the violence of paramilitary forces in more rural parts of the countries, the dump became the home to some of Colombia's poorest citizens. They would, illegally, claim a plot of land, and start building a house on it. The nicer ones were  built from mortar and brick, while the majority were made from scraps of metal roof sheeting, and tarps.

Angelica's Aunt Nelly (purple) and Uncle Augusto (plaid)

As we climbed the mound of garbage, it became more and more obvious how expansive this barrio actually was. At the beginning of our ascent, Aunt Nelly joked "we hadn't seen nothing yet", and it became clear what she was talking about. As the garbage mounted, the houses became increasingly desperate. Many of the decrepit shacks were on their last leg, with a serious lean only being supported by a flimsy 2x4. 

Then as we began our descent from the trash heap, we saw the beginnings of hope. The government, probably embarrassed, had made it its goal to transform the shantytown into a bright, clean and safe up-and-coming neighborhood, complete with a botanical garden. They had surrounded the area by a security wall, and had already built several- of many- new apartment buildings.

The old behind the new.

The new apartment buildings can be seen in the background.

The new neighborhood was complete with schools, churches, medical facilities and basic utilities. The only problem was that residents were unwilling to move into their new digs. Many were without jobs, and couldn't afford rent, electricity and water bills. Construction has temporarily halted as new plans are drawn up to 'encourage' moving. Though encouragement might come in the form of forced removal...

After visiting with Aunt Nelly and Uncle Augusto, we decided it was time to leave Medellin. We had a sudden realization of the short amount of time left in our vacation (just over a month!), and with still two big and exciting countries left, we made a bee-line for the border.

Our first move was an overnight bus to the capital, Bogota. Nine hours later, and at 6am we arrived at the station, checked our bags, and took a bus to the center. Our first stop was the main square, surrounded by the Citadel Primada, Congress, the Mayor's Office, and the Palace of Justice. From there we wondered around the quaint streets of the old town, and the bustling streets of the new town.

We also found some internet on the street corner to stay caught up.

Bogota proved to be very artistic, this being just some of the awesome graffiti.

We also visited the Police Museum. The police are the main cause of the country's recent turn around from a drug-ridden (ok, there are still lots of drugs), dangerous, lawless land, to a safe tourism destination. When Uribe was elected president in 2002, one of his main platforms was to increase the police force. Now police are ubiquitous throughout the country, appearing on most street corners in bigger cities. They also drive around with lights flashing to make their presence known.

The plan seemed to have worked. Their most proud accomplishment was the destruction of Pablo Escobar's drug cartel, and an entire branch of the museum was dedicated to his activities, capture and assassination.

Pablo! After he was shot, 12/2/1993

Hard to see, but this is a rifle turned guitar!

Small guns prostitutes used to hide in their wigs.

As we wondered the streets of the capital, we passed by a small door that was bustling with people. We decided to brave it, and discovered delicious, and semi-secret good-eats. It was a room no bigger than 15x15, including the kitchen, and a couple tables full of locals. Food was just a couple bucks, and was awesome.

We also decided to class up our visit with a trip to the modern art museum. The main exhibit was dedicated to Fernando Botero, who seems to see everyone as obese, and usually naked. We figured he must have had an inferiority complex, and possible some weight issues of his own. The pictures were awesome, though I'm not sure they were supposed to illicit laughs instead of contemplation.

The Mona Lisa

The museum also contained works by other artists, including Monet, Picasso and Dali. Though Abra's favorite piece was by an unheard of artist:

That evening we were back on a bus to Popayan, for another overnight on the way to the border. We were keeping with our plan of short-changing the major cities, in favor of activities and hiking.

Unfortunately, as we got within an hour of the southern city, our trip was interrupted by a land slide which was blocking most of the road. Our 13 hour ride turned into a 15 hour bore-fest, as we waited for the crew to clean up the spillage.

The Rambi (spanish translation, anyone?) that was holding us up

We arrived in Popayan at around 3pm, and had just a few hours to troll the city before our next night bus would be taking us to the border.

The city of Popayan was actually quite beautiful, full of white-washed buildings and quiet little streets. It was also the hometown of Angelica, so we HAD to visit! Shout out to Angelica, Thanks for the tips!

Abra did manage to find a butcher shop, which are always fun for photos.

Delicious mangos!

Calling from the 'public' phones

It started to rain, and before we knew it our time in Popayan was up, so we loaded up on bread and jam, and headed for the bus stop. As we waited for our bus, we read in our travel book not to take overnight busses to the border for fear of hijackings on busses and theft. Whooops!

We boarded anyway, and soon we were fast asleep, speeding through the winding curves to Ipiales. This would be our 33rd hour on busses in 4 days.

Posted by Hans