Colombia Part 9: Manizales and Zona Cafetera

Apologies if the quality of this may be a little lower, but still falling behind and just got down from climbing Cotopaxi, which has taken its toll on body and mind. For the first time arounf 5700m I think I began to suffer some effects of altitude sickness. Anyway, we had left Medellin by bus and we arrived late at night in Manizales. Our overly friendly taxi driver took us on a tour of ths sites of the city on the way to our hostel. We checked into Mountain House for what we thought would be two nights. The tour to Nevado Del Ruiz to get some altitude acclimitisation could not be run until wednesday however and so we ended up staying for three nights.

In the morning we got up and I had two bad nights sleep here. I was top bunk as usual and someone had decided to place a plank of wood under one side of my bed. This kept tipping me over to one side and I would constantly wake up staring over the abyss that was the left hand side of my bed. There was a Korean guy staying in our room who may come back to live in Colombia for a bit. He lived in California and we discussed some US politics for a while. Dom took the piss out of my tendency to collect everyone's facebook addresses by asking if I had got his. I said no, but upon re-entering the hostel later on, he said he was just off and could he have my facebook id. Funny how these things pan out. We decided to go for a walk around the town. Its very hilly with lots of ups and downs and winding roads. All the Zona Cafetera towns are built along mountainous ridges and subsequently all of them have been destroyed by earthquakes at one point or another. Lonely Planet takes no interest in any of them, following its usual obsession with pointless villages for a true 'cultural' (gringo rip off hangout) experience. Manizales reminds me of Switzerland a lot and its a veyr pleasant town. I could live there I think. Its about half a million (Along with Denver and San Juan this seems to be a preferred size for me). The people are very good looking here and supremely friendly and competent. They are just so incredibly nice. Like El Salvadoreans. Also, every person I asked for directions gave me correct and accurate instructions. I was taken aback. It took me awhile to shed my habit of asking five people in Latin America, because noone ever seems to know anything. This town is just pleasant in so many ways. It was a shame we were not there for a weekend, but I will have to go back and visit when I am in Bogota. I´ve written 'Lonely Planet is shit', but thats hardly news and could relate to anything. I ended up weaving all over the roads to get to the town centre. Because of the ridiculous dips and sweeps of the city you don't need a map, because far out in front of you, you can see anything you want to visit and just set off in that direction. And if you get lost a local will always be able to steer you right again. I went looking for tour agencies, but none were to be found. Hence the LP comment probably. The cathedral is nice and they have a birdlike image of Bolivar in the main square. Quite odd. Every Colombian town has to have a Bolivar statue in the main plaza. When I eventually turn this into a book I will have to add interesting stories and history that I am too lazy to add now and I can research later, as well as elaborating more on the overall impressions of places etc. I was supposed to meet Dom at the thermal baths of Otono. I took a bus out there. It was scorching hot in the town, there was a thunderstorm mid way there and in Otono it was cool and drizzly. Hmm weird weather. The public baths were shut and I had to use the private ones, which were basically a hotel swimming pool with some plunge pools and showers. The water was nice and hot, the water was full of some sort of sulphurous substance that made your mouth taste strange and it was pleasant if a little overpriced and sterile. Dom was not there so I assumed he had gone back (He had not actually gone). Damn lack of credit.

Kelvin confirmed he was definitely coming at this point. Well assuming he is granted holiday. Should be class. Some random couchsurfer contacted me to go for drinks and I thought why not for tomorrow night. Newcastle won which was shitty as I want them relegated. Luckily my wish was granted and yesterday they were. Who's the bigger club now eh? Although we did not make Europe. Only consolation is that we can concentrate on the league next year now and maybe Ledley King can play every game. I went to the cinema that night to watch Wolverine. The town was a little dead on mondays. The film was a bit crap, but they had Gambit in it, so naturally New Orleans was in the film. They keep making me miss that city. Every film seems to be set there at some point. It also had a subplot about the genuineness of feelings and emotions. It made me think what my feelings in general are. How real are they. Am I tired and wanting to settle somewhere, hence Bogota. Is it because it reminds me of my home city. Or is Critstina right in saying my breaks have been applied over a girl. I think not, but maybe. Then again I heard nothing from Mayra since she went to the States so shall see. I have then written 'you always have a choice'. Not sure what that meant. Sounds like a suicide note, so I can only assume I was in a melancholy mood. Perhaps a little wistful for the South. At least I got my Southerner fix in Ecuador. It comes so rarely now. I need to get back there, but it looks like it won't be for carnival now. Maybe afterwards. I think I will do carnival in Brazil after Argentina. I have a bet on with Dom. If Barcelona win wednesday it will be Rio and if Man United win it will be Salvador. Lets see eh.

The next day I went and got a haircut. It needed doing. I thought about growing it long. Have though about that many times, but it just looks shit so did not bother. We took a trip out to a town nearby to go and visit a coffee Hacienda. It took fucking ages and the people in that town (I can't remember the name) are the rudest and least likeable in all of the Zona Cafetera. People pushing in front of each other in buses, one guy right up in my face as soon as I stepped off the bus. Another called Dom a monkey, but apparently I found out later thats not an insult. They call each other 'mono' or 'gordo' all the time as pet names for strangers. The tour was all in Spanish and some of the technical stuff I missed. We got some free food and straight off the production line, home grown, high quality coffee. My mum would be jealous. It was actually drinkable for once. There were a couple of Yankees on the tour and we traded up information on Colombia for some in Ecuador. All round the tour were crazy dogs that followed us and one of them even hung off the tour guides leg for the whole tour. I learnt some interesting coffee facts. A worker busting his arse for a whole day will earn around 28,000 pesos which is around 11.5 dollars. No wonder people emigrate. This was hard labour and if they made mistakes with the picking they were not paid. They also had an insect that was killing the coffee beans. They could not use insecticides and so they genetically engineered an army of other insects that hunt the bad ones and kill them inside the coffee beans. In the evening we went for drinks with Monica and her friends. There was a cool Argentine guy I chatted with for a while and a very wimpy American. After the drinks he wanted to take a taxi for 5 blocks or so because it was dangerous. This is Manizales. Oxford is probably more dangerous. It was also foggy so he walked with us a bit and complained how he could not see more than 20 metres. I wrote 'could not see' in the book and ironically as I wrote that the lights went off in the bus. Ah as usual the irony is lost on people. Dom suggested if he walks 10 metres he will be able to see a bit further. He got a bit distraught and asked if we could walk him home. I said ok. Dom complained afterwards that we had walked him home. He said fair enough if it was a woman, but he is a man. I answered 'barely'. He was an odd annoying American and possibly one of the weakest spined men I have ever met. Dom said I should tear into him as I write, but the above should be sufficient to understand his character. The guy was from LA of course. So Manizales was naturally more dangerous than the biggest cesspit in the world.

The next day we had to get up early for the tour. It was $40 and we had been told it was not worht it. Dom did not think it was necessary, but I believed we needed some acclimitisation above 5000m for Cotopaxi. After the brutally of today I think it was the correct decision. We met up with the tour guide and he asked me "de donde eres?" (where are you from?). "London", "Italy?", "London", "Italy?", "London. Fuck sake. I would have thought London was famous enough. Some other guy yesterday asked me the same question and when i said London, they said Italy. I must have started to look Itlalian along with my fifteen other nationalities. Either that or there is a town of London in Italy that is more famous than my own. But then again I have never heard of it. Perhaps only South Americans visit. Even the rest of the bus laughed and then a Turkish guy who is now living in Australia insisted that I did not look English. Jesus, can I even go back to my home country. I am going to start answering that I am from nowhere. That should satisfy some people. I know I am not typically English (either in looks or accent or attitude) or so I am always told, but that no excuse for deafness. Our guide sounds like Arnie. A Colombian Arnie. Quality. "Dey mey av told you dis is de biggest mountaain, but it is not. Colombia has more National Parks dan any otver country." Which is wrong. Costa Rica has at least 20 more. I lost faith in him after that. But he was amusing. We climbed up the last 300m to a height of 5050m. Just above the snowline. No altitude sickness. Good, it boded well for Cotopaxi. We had an interesting bunch on the group. As normal I will only give the highlights. There was an English guy who had lived part time in Barcelona and was fluent in Catalan which was good for Dom. There was another English guy who strode off like a rocket up the mountain. It turns out he had spent 5 months living in Xela in Guatemala. One of his friends was a tour guide. There is an active volcano in Xela that erupts every two hours. You are not supposed to visit it, but they did. They had to wait for it to erupt and then sprint up and back agin within a two hour window. This is at around 4000m altitude. No wonder he can move so fast. I have even written that the guide talks crap. Finally there was a Swiss guy on the tour. He had lived in Colombia when he was 23 for 9 months in Cali and Ibague. He has since been back 7 times in 8 years. I have written about him and prostitutes, but I don't remember the details. I think its in Cartagena when he had a girlfriend who was a semi professional salsa dancer. He is a salsa teacher. He met her when walking on the promenade. Its the prostitute hangout and many women there will accept money for one night, even if they are not prostitutes, to pay for their surgery. Which brings me to a girlfriend he had in Ibague. They had been going out for a while, when they were in a bar and he went to the toilet. Some old guy approcahed his girlfriend and said if she would sleep with him for one night he would pay for her breast surgery. She told him when he came back from the toilet. He was disgusted and angry. She said its only one night and the operation is expensive. His response was that firstly she was his girlfriend, secondly she was stunning and didn't need it and thirdly that was the last night they were together. Apparently this is very common in Colombia. Makes you kind of sick to think about it. How low must your self esteem and self respect be to seel yourself into prostitution for one night in order to pay for surgery. Damn it. Most of the women in this country don't need surgery anyway. The guide was explaining stuff in Spanish and then doing it again in English. On all the basic stuff. Dom and I glanced at each other and started laughing, because his Arnie stories were amusing. We ended up at some thermal baths afterwards, which were colder than Otono and the guide had to leave midway through the tour. It was not worth the money for what it was, but the acclimitisation was priceless. He even forgot to take payment from two of us. I had noticed this as he was leaving, but then he asked if everyone had paid. Bugger, a direct question. My honesty came through and I said I had not and paid him. Then the English/Barcelona guy paid as well. Probably could have avoided paying for the tour. Then it would have been money well spent if it cost nothing. In the thermals there was one solitary pipe of hot water and then Dom found the cold hose and blasted everyone. Noone could get near him to stop him and so I decided to find the pipe and pull it out of his hands that way. It was a good group and we had a lot of fun pissing around on the pointless trip. That night we missed the free barbecue as we had to get a bus to Armenia. I have always wanted to go to Armenia since I went to Russia. Just not this one. 'Many ecosystems'. What the hell was I talking about? We took a late bus to Armenia and arrived in time to grab a hotel near the bus station. The guy who runs it was ultra friendly (usual Paisa) and completely unintelligable. I undertsood nothing, but then neither did Dom. The other guy at the desk asked me how many countries I had been to and was impressed with the 42. Its 43 now. I also did not understand when he asked me what I did and I effectively told him I work on the buses in Colombia. This amused Dom.

We had stayed in Armenia because we needed to get an early bus to the Valle de Cocora. We failed, because I was lazy. We went anyway. I had had a nightmare that night (not sure what. I really should make more detailed notes), we had left the tv on some football game from Germany and there was a massive argument outside. These are my excuses for not getting up. None of them are valid. We dropped our bags with the unintelligable man and got a bus to Salento. Lonely Planet loves this town. Its small and there is nothing to do. There usual favourites. People like these because you get to see 'the real culture and the way people live'. Bullshit. Most people live in the cities. Bogota, Medellin and Cali represent how most people live. This poxy shithole of a town does not. If you want to find how Britain operates now you go to London, you don't go to some village in Cornwall. We had breakfast and had missed the bus. Rather than paying for our own private jeep or waiting for the 11.30am public jeep (we should have done as it passed us anyway), we walked 2 hours uphill. This valley is apparently awesome with some palm trees that are very tall. Lonely Planet says its like going to another planet. Its not. Unless the other planet looks like ours, only with slightly taller trees. It was a little underwhelming. Pretty definitely, but worht the trek? Maybe. We only had one hour to see the valleys before we had to get back to get to Cali that night. We wanted the whole weekend in Cali as the nightlife is apparently legendary. We got back to the jeep point. We had negotiated $5 a person to go back. Dom said oh look its your friend. I saw an English guy from Manizales. Nice guy. But next to him was the wet blanket American from Manizales. Bollocks. How did we bump into him again. In 10 months of travelling he is the only person I have not liked that I have bumped into again. They were paying $3 to go down the hill. So we told the driver we would pay $3. He said he had negotiated $5 with us. Fucking idiot. He must have known we would talk. He thought he could pick up an extra $6, but ended up only making $2 more for two passangers. His expensive two tier pricing system had cost him. He should have charged the other two $5 each. Idiot. We went to Lucys for the infamous trout. It was good fish and a large portionm of food for the price. We ended up eating with the Yankee (English guy did not make it in time) and he asked Dom "What do they eat where you come from?" I think he is the wettest, annoyingest (new word) person I ahve met for some time. I fucking hate Californians. We got back and grabbed a bus to Cali.