Valladolid (Va' ha dol id)

After a late start from Cuenca, we left for the Ecuadorian / Peruvian border.  After Loja the Panamerican highway turned right and headed towards the coast.  We stayed straight.  Eventually the highway, turned to a country road, then finally dirt, but still easily passable.  As we rode the passes, up to 11,000 down to 5,000 the roads wound around the steep drops and creeks that cut into the mountain side.  Then it began to light rain and some road construction.  We were making the kind of distance we had planned and it soon became apparent we were going to need to stop for the night.  We came to a little town Valladolid. 

After a few questions at a local “tienda” (store), we were directed to the town Hotel!

The woman at the hotel; showed us where to park the bikes, as she worked to sweep out the parking place.  We stayed on the second floor.  I wish she hadn’t because we knew we were just going to mess it up again with the bikes.  We each took a room.  Mine with two beds, Chucks with one, windows that opened into the area below where the bikes were parked.  There was a common restroom with a shower and toilet.  The shower had the first electric heater (heater of death) located on the head.  It works by electrically heating the water as it comes out of shower.  However, it didn’t work, which is probably a good thing, so I had a VERY cold shower that evening, that took my breath away. 

Valladolid, from a distance is actually a very pretty little town.  This seems to be common of most south American towns.  Closer examination however revels an infrastructure in sad need of repair.  Houses are partially finished (as was the “hotel” we stayed in), exposed electrical systems held together with crimped wires and electrical tape, and plumbing that sometimes seemed to come from nowhere and lead to nowhere.  We had dinner just down the street. 

I came into the hotel after dinner to find a man changing out a light bulb dangling from the ceiling with a kitchen knife.  I went to my box and found my leatherman with a screw driver and lent it to him.  Chuck and I both wished we could bring extra tools to give to some of these people.

That night I slept on a mattress that was about two inches thick, underpinned by wooden slats.  Eventually I got up, went to the bike and got my air mattress, which finally led to sleep.  The next morning we were up, had some basic breakfast with instant coffee, packed and we were on our way.  We are slowly learning the language but still have no idea what we get when we order meals.  We had scrambled eggs, mixed with ham and some fruit.  The guy next to us had eggs, ham, some rice, fruit, bread and juice.  All we could do is look at him with envy.  J

Cuenca (Quen ka)

Cuenca

Based on information from Warner and others at Hostel Garisol, we decided that we would stop in Cuenca after leaving Quito.  It was a fairly large town, with an active downtown area.  In fact I had time to actually find a hotel that sounded like it was pretty good and put that in our GPS’s.  It seems it takes hours sometimes to find and book a hotel if we don’t do it ahead of time.

Getting out of Quito was entertaining.  We made a wrong turn (or two, or three) and took an indirect route to the freeway.  In fact we got to one point and ended up riding across a muddy soccer field, onto a side walk and then off the edge and on the Pan American highway.  This would be highly frowned upon in the States but normal course here in South America.

The ride to Cuenca from Quito was very uneventful.  While in Quito we found out that Ecuador had begun aggressively enforcing speed limits.  Anything over 15 Kph over the speed limit and you go to jail for three days.  We were lucking that we weren’t stopped going into Quito, because there were many times we were well over the speed limit.  So the ride out of Quito was right at the highway speed limit mostly 90kph (60 mph).  The highway was two or three lanes wide and moved most the time at freeway speeds.  Of course there is some potential for danger:

It was cold riding at over 11,000 feet.  Here I am dressed up with my scarf, which I nearly lost a few miles down the road from it almost blowing out.

When we arrived at Cuenca, we followed the GPS to close to the hotel.  Then it started taking us around in circles (it does this a lot here in SA).  We dead reckoned to close to the hotel, eventually finding a road, but it was one way the other way.  We spent at least an hour trying to find a way onto that road and never did find an entrance at the other end of the one way.  I honestly believe that most folks just drive up the road the wrong way, but not us gringos. 

We left the downtown area and eventually found a hotel out of town.  But all in all, we spent at least 2 to 2 ½ hours looking for a place to stay for the night.  

Quito (Key' toe)

We made it to Quito, and stopped for a quick bite to eat and some help finding the address we were given for the Hostel.  The mapping program would not find the address.  Quito is a city with a population about the same as Houston.  We drove from probably eight or ten miles into the heart of the city, finally stopping at a little Panaderia.  Had a quick bite and trapped a fellow customer into helping us with the address.  He looked at the address and said tres bloques directo y dos bloques izquerda.  We were within five blocks of the hostel.  Try doing that in Houston without any idea of where you are or where you are going.

We found the hostal Girasol, met Maja, got the motorcycles secured, got unpacked and ready for our trip to the Galapagos.  I have photos, but I left my camera in the van coming back from the islands.  They found my camera but another of the guests is bringing it back with her when she returns today.  Hopefully then I can add some photos.

Ipiales (Ipi' al ez)

We left Popayan to ride to Ipiales.  We intended to stay the night, cross the border and make it to Quito, Ecuador by the afternoon.  We got to Ipiales around 4:30p, before dark, which is good.  However, it seems we have a nack for finding the Farmers Markets as they are closing down.  And for Ipiales, this was no different.  Cars, taxis, buses, trucks, vendors, pedestrians, people carrying stuff; all in a hurry to beat the now nonexistent traffic flow.  In the middle of this, here we are "the Gringos" on big and wide motorcycles.  We don't get a lot of people honking at us, because I guess we are a novelty, something more to be observed.  

I didn't take many pictures here and what I did is on my camera coming back from the Galapagos.  If I get it back soon I will post them up here.

Anyway, we stopped at one hotel, who unbolted their three locks on their door to let me in, and inspect the room.  The room was fine, but they had no safe parking.  So on to the next hotel.  We had several in the GPS but there were a lot more just on the road.  We found one of many on a little traffic circle.  I went in to ask the price and look at the room.  It was 20,000 COP or about 11 bucks.  I looked at the rooms quickly and we decided on two or $22.  The parking was down the block for $1 / night.  

Of course after doing the deal, the rooms were on the third floor, 35 steps, three trips, all our luggage ...arggggh!  Once the bikes are parked and we are in our room, Chuck comes by to ask; "does your room have a lid on the toilet, not just porcelain?" I laugh and say yes.  He says his doesn't.  He went down to inform the female desk clerk.  I finish unpacking and meet him downstairs, where Chuck has drawn a picture of a toilet with no lid and also he informed me that he took her into her little toilet behind the desk to show her what his was missing.  I am still laughing.  He said he got it all worked out, but never did get a lid. :-)

So, I am thinking I got the best deal with the room because of the toilet lid.  But then I went to take a shower and didn't have any hot water and no shower head, just a pipe.  Chuck says he has hot water and a shower head so I borrow his shower.  

Let me tell you a little more about this hotel, on the walls were pictures of naked women, veiled and posed in  very suggestive manner. That was the first hint.  The second seemed like the desk clerk was surprised that a couple gringos wanted the room all night.  Finally about one in the morning a man with a couple of women came into the room across the hall, turned up the music and started partying.  Mean time the traffic in the circle was building, honking horns, loud music, people yelling.  Thank goodness for ear buds.

We were out of there fairly early, and on our way to the Border.  The border crossing was really a non-event other then standing in a long line at immagracion.  Then over to DIAN for checking off for the motocycle.  From thirty yards away, he looked at the serial numbers on the forms, then the bikes, "si! no problema!, ciao!"  And we were off!

The two gringo's.  Actually we heard something today that is probably better than the two gringo's, a man in the old town square of Quito came up to us and called us Los Gigantes!  The Giants ... hahahaha.  

We made it to Quito, and stopped for a quick bite to eat and some help finding the address we were given for the Hostel.  The mapping program would not find the address.  Quito is a city with a population about the same as Houston.  We drove from probably eight or ten miles into the heart of the city, finally stopping at a little Panaderia.  Had a quick bite and trapped a fellow customer into helping us with the address.  He looked at the address and said tres bloques directo y dos bloques izquerda.  We were within five blocks of the hostel.  Try doing that in Houston without any idea of where you are or where you are going.

We made it to the hostel, met Maja, got the motorcycles secured, got unpacked and ready for our trip to the Galapagos.  I have photos, but I left my camera in the van coming back from the islands.  They found my camera but another of the guests is bringing it back with her when she returns today.  Hopefully then I can add some photos.

Popayan (Papa' john), Colombia - just like the pizza

After the coffee plantation we returned to the EcoHotel La Juanita. We talked to Rosario about where we should stop next.  We planned to stop in Cali, but she said, no, no, you will need to go on to Popayan.  All the buildings are white, it is a very good site. 

Rosario and her daughter who tried to translate for us.

We got up early the next morning and left for Popayan.  After a little rain and some winding roads, some straight and hot stretches we made to Popayan.  The diversity of driving terrains is something to mention.  High altitudes over 10,000 feet give way to lower, 2,000 and 3,000 foot valleys sometimes rising and falling two times a day.  Temperatures as low as 55F up to 98F and then back down again, with fog, rain and blistering sun.  It is hard to dress appropriately.

At Popayan we found that the roads are mostly one way and everyone seems to know which way, except of course us Gringo’s.  Eventually we found that there are signs on the buildings indicating which way to go and what the street names were. 

We continue to laugh that everytime we get a room it is the furthest away from the street where our bikes are.  This time was no different.  Usually this means three trips with our crap.  We have to carry the top case, the sides cases, the camping luggage and miscellaneous helmets, jackets, GPS, Spot, etc., up to the second floor and all the way to the back.  By the time I am done with this trip, I should look like Arnold Swarzenegger, back before he became the governator.

After getting settled in, we went out for a bite to eat, tamales South American style. They were very good along with the middle of the road cervaisa’s they have here.  We then found a little bar where the beers were really expensive, about $5 bucks.  They actually had more of selection so we had a couple and left.  On the way back to they hostal we ran into a marching band, playing only percussion, even though they had a brass section, marching the streets of Popayan.  It was some religious ceremony, since there were catholic priest and some image of a saint carried on a platform by eight young men.  The thing that struck me as we walked behind was the beat of the drums sounded just like those from the Fleetwood Mac tune “Tusk”.  I couldn’t help but hum the rhythm guitar part.

We planned to stay in Popayan an additional day.  But, after we got back from our tour of the town that night I sent an e-mail to a contact we got from Regula at the Hostal in Santa Marta.  The next morning we received a response that said that she actually had a cancellation for a five day Galapagos tour that would work if we hustled it down to Quito.  So that’s what we did.  Packed quickly, loaded the bikes, checked out and we were off.

Even though we had figured out “una via” and street names, we had not figured out who stopped for whom, and never did find any signs.  Not knowing who had the right of way and probably somewhat in the haste to leave town, led to a little incident where I dropped my bike.  I thought I had the right of way but didn’t.  The bike coming the other way honked and I slammed on the brakes.  Because of the rebound on the shocks, the bike came back up slightly at a list and I could not hold it up.  Bam, but people came from all around to help me pick it up (and probably to laugh at the stupido gringo!)

On to Igiales for the night.  Igiales is a town on the border of Ecuador.  Not much in the way of tourism but plenty if you are interested in a brothel hotel, cold porcelain toilet bowls, showers without shower heads and sinks that drain onto the floors.

Manizales

Pronouced as it looks, Man' i zal ez.  We left Medellin planning for a leisurely ride and arrival at the EcoHotel La Juanita in Manizales.  Manizales is in the coffee region of Colombia and great place to visit the coffee fields and get a tour of the coffee process.  There are some coffee plantations even along the way to Manizales.  It makes the hills look very cultivated.

I had made a route plan and spoke with Chuck about a route that wasn't in the maps on our Garmin that took us up through La Cabana.  When we finally arrived at the point to make the turn, the GPS began to say that the direction we were going was incorrect.

Chuck felt strongly about not going the direction I suggested and follow the route indicated the GPS.  I asked Chuck if he trusted me, wisely he said 'probably not'!  And I threw down the gauntlet, I said "you are welcome to go that way, but I am going this way."  If any of you know the story of me and Chuck, a statement similar to that led to us going separate ways in California nine or ten years ago.

Fortunately for both of us, a fellow on a little Chinese bike came by and I asked him if the way I pointed was to La Cabana.  I learned after a few confused looks that the correct pronunciation is La Cabuya.  He graciously led us up the road to La Cabana.  This was one beautiful ride.  The road was narrow but nice and paved.  The views were spectacular and NO TRUCKS!  Ok, one or two but not that bad.  This is by far the best road we have ridden since being in Colombia.

View from the road to La Cabana

We arrived at the EcoHotel La Juanita and met, Rosaria, Ricardo and their son Ricardo Jr.  They are doing wonderful things with their little hotel.  We took the two single rooms and have a room to ourselves for the first time on our trip.  I will post some more pictures as we continue with our visit here.

This doesn't look that steep ... but it is.

Entrance to La Juanita

Hotel EcoHotel La Juanita

A view from El Terrace in Manizales

Dinner on El Terrace in downtown Manizales

When we arrived at the La Juanita, the water was out, but they had it back on later that night.  The pipe from the city had broken and the city was out fixing it.  Last night around 10:00p the power in my room went out. Just my room.  The owners had gone home (down the hill), but their daughter was still in the main house using the computer.  Again through hand signals, my limited spanish and her limited english, I communicated the problem.  She called her dad, first by whistling off the back porch (not sure why), and then calling on the cell phone.  The solution was for me to move into the "big house" into a fancy room.  I must be living right.

By the time I had all my stuff over, I had broke out in a sweat.  So I showered.  Good thing, because I found out this morning that the water is out again.  I don't know how Chuck feels about such things but I am learning to take it all in stride, deal with the inconvenient and revel in the experience.  A person is truly a happy soul if their worst experience is a learning experience and they don't bring those around them down.

I want to make sure that everyone understands that our hosts have done to make our visit enjoyable.  Rosario, Richardo and their family have gone out of their way to see that what we wanted to do and see was addressed.

Here is Rosario in her garden, that I reckon is needed to get away from the stress of two very high maintenance gringos.

Coffee Processing in Manizales
The area around Manizales is considered some of the best coffee producing areas in Colombia.  Today we visited the Venecia coffee farm, an approximately 300 acre coffee producing and process farm near Manizales.

Coffee plants on the hills of the Venecia coffee farm

Alexander (Alex) was our guide and did a great job of explaining how things worked.  Here he is making us a cappuccino and explaining how the coarseness of the grind and the amount of compaction of the cup effect the taste.  Then it was interesting to actually taste the difference between two different cups just with these changes.

Seedlings for new growth when old plants are removed.

Most of the coffee production is hot, hard work.

Something for my lovely wife, perhaps she can identify this? :-)

Alex told us that coffee workers earn about the equivalent of $16usd a day.  This is more than the average of $8 for laborers.

Medellin

Pronounced Medi' jean by the locals.  We left Sincelejo headed for Medellin.  We didn't realize the terrain we were crossing was as difficult as it was.  We thought we had plenty of time to make Medellin before dark.  It turned out the road was nothing but switchbacks for miles.  Those of you that know the "tail of the dragon" in NC/TN, this made that look tame.  To make matters worse, it is a main thorough fare with trucks everywhere.  It climbed from around 5000 feet to over 9600 feet.  At the top, someone saw fit to throw in some dense, dense fog.  The temperature dropped from 70's in Medellin to 50's at the top of the pass and didn't get much better.

The downhill side of the pass wasn't much better.  The trucks went a little faster but it made the passing more difficult.  We mostly sat back and waited until we got to some semi-split highway and was able to make it to the hotel around 7:30p or so.  This was after getting a little lost and ending up on a road that looked like Lombard street in San Francisco.  Medellin is built on hills and valleys cut by the many rivers and streams that run together.  It is beautiful unless you are trying to find your way and have to operate a 600 or 700 pound motorcycle.

Daysayuno on the 21st floor of our hotel, open air view.

Another view from the 21st floor

We decided that while Medellin is very beautiful and somewhere we could stay for a long time to see, we were more interested in the more country areas.  So we only stayed the night and we were off to Manizales, in the heart of the coffee region.  We did have very nice accommodations as did our bikes.