Colombia is the only country in the world that has snow mountains bordering the ocean. Nearing the Sierra Nevada meant birds were more beautiful, nights were more chilly, and sand flies were unexpectedly belligerent. This place was a playground for adults. From our hostel and its 8-person hammocks, we took a walk in the opposite direction of everyone else, and hence began my falling in love with the Colombian people.

I have no clue how our paths crossed again so soon and I will never question it. This spring break was about traveling with Parbinder. We were a codependent unit once more.

 

 

Getting There

From Cartagena, we took a Mar Sol shuttle to Santa Marta, 5 hours, $14. The following morning we walked to the colectivo jeeps for Minca, 45 minutes, $3, which depart from Calle 11 and Carrera 12 in Santa Marta. We took motorcycle taxis from Minca to Casa Elemento, $7, but plenty also go for the scenic two-hour hike up to Casa.

The last part was my scariest motorbike experience yet. I clung onto the back handles and tried to stay calm as we bumped up the dirt road. It was a well-timed comic relief when we ran out of gas and had to siphon some from Parbs’ bike.

To leave, we booked a morning jeep with the hostel that took us directly to Santa Marta for $10.

 

 

Accommodation

Casa Elemento had a jaw-dropping view of Santa Marta and several giant hammocks. Dawn or dusk, I would take the blankets from my bed and swing until I fell asleep. The atmosphere was very social, but Parbs and I weren’t there to talk to people with familiar backgrounds about TV shows or what happened at which party hostel. Instead, we focused on nature and waking and sleeping with the sun. I bird-watched during my showers thanks to the giant open-air windows facing the hillsides. The $15 dorms were very cozy, and there was also a private treehouse-room that could be reserved.

For those on tighter budgets, beware of getting carried away with the tab system as there is no kitchen for guests. We did not touch anything from the bar, brought our own Lifestraw water filter and energy bars, and purchased of carrots and fruits in Minca for breakfast and lunch. Dinner was family-style, healthy, and flavorful, but pricey at $6.

Not-so-fun fact: the original mission of this relatively new hostel was to create a place for travelers to stay a while and become a family. The good business created jobs that changed the lives of numerous local residents. But once backpackers got word of the sick hammocks and tasty food, they began flocking the place and treating it as a destination to check off a list. Instead of appreciating and absorbing the Minca area, they were staying two nights (I’m guilty) and leaving. As a result, one of the owners and a couple other staff members are soon quitting and hope to achieve the real dream elsewhere.

 

 

See and Do

Nearly everyone hiked to and swam in waterfalls including Pozo Azul and Cascada de Marinka, but I guess Parbs and I were really good at getting lost and had seen our fair share of falls as our adventures stayed on dry land.

 

Day 2

It was truly remarkable how travel allowed one to make new friends when said individual was trying to eat dinner while half asleep and utterly antisocial.

Or maybe that’s just me?

It wasn’t the first time I’ve met boys via sitting down to a meal at a wooden hostel table. In fact, it was the third.

But we never know these things at the time. I ground through the small talk and was saying goodnight to Parbs in the bunk above me by 9pm.

 

Day 3

Birding… is it a guilty pleasure if you don’t even feel guilty about it?

Being the first one awake meant I had all the feathery friends to myself. They were everywhere. Like, even on the bathroom faucets.

I was freaking out. Few travelers realize the extent of the unique biodiversity in the area. In fact, the El Dorado Reserve is a birding Mecca and I would love to explore it some day.

Without a tour, I retrospectively identified Blue-gray Tanagers, Bay-headed Tanagers, Tropical Kingbird Flycatchers, Crested Guans, and the very loud Bicolored Wrens. My favorite was the Yellow-rumped Cacique, which was a black bird with hidden yellow on its tail that would fan out when it flew, because I hadn’t seen it before.

 

 

Parbs and I went past Los Pinos and headed toward La Y. Aimlessly. Our mouths were burnt by the tartness of the very unripe and very green orange that I had impulsively shaken out of a tree. A van pulled over for us and I gleefully leaped right in.

The two guys were really nice; one was dropping off the other for work at a TV tower higher up. Along the way, I noticed they made stops, but not just for tamales (sold at Bellavista). They were getting out of the car just to hug their friends.

“¿Piña?” I thought the pet rabbit was munching on pineapple. They laughed at me. It was eating arepa and it was going straight to its waistline.

 

 

The lady who owned Tienda Las Rosas brought out a tray of tintos, or little Colombian coffees with sugar, and insisted we each take one. Also her hummingbird feeder was so lit.

At the endpoint of our road trip the men left us alone as we enjoyed the viewpoint and a pomelo for lunch. I was hoping to see the snow peaks of the Sierra Nevada but it was too cloudy. Parbs was having trouble replying to me and it dawned upon me that this was her first time being higher than/inside of clouds and she was kind of having a moment.

So here we were, 8-hours walking distance from Casa, and over 2,600 meters above sea level. The men pointed out a group of 50-meter wild palm trees thriving in the distance. Thankfully Edgar had to drive someone back, which meant we only had to walk for two more hours to return.

 

 

Day 4 (am)

Parbs helped me make pretty papaya bowls after check out. I ended up running into the guys from the first dinner right before bed, and now we were all sharing a taxi back into the city.

Chris and Zauri were Swedish, but ethnically they were half-Peruvian half-Belarusian and Georgian, respectively. They were traveling with Candice, a tough Canadian woman.

Z was an enabler and I wasn’t about to be left out. I sat with the boys on the roof of the vehicle and tried not to fall off for the next hour. Only in Colombia.

Chris, who studied industrial engineering, had the brilliant idea of scaring the driver. I watched in horror as he scooted on his stomach way over the front and was still wondering if I should grab his legs before he resurfaced, reporting that the driver “looked really pissed.”

 

 

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