Our room is small; cats need not fear getting dizzy. Mark comments that we're at the stage of the tour when the room is dominated by the smell of feet. Speak for yourself! Biological warfare breaks out in the toilet, I adjourn to the balcony to admire the morning view.
Getting ready, Mark groans in pain like he's having a baby with every move he makes: in the shower, drying, dressing, putting on his socks, then the boots, going down the stairs. But his ankle shows the reason why: it's swollen and the bruise is showing its colours. But he will be riding. It will be painful.
Breakfast is scrambled eggs with onion and tomatoes, served with corn bread and rice. Tasty. I buy some yogurt to share as a starter. It pairs nicely with the rice.
We retrieve the bikes from the garage tucked away just off the square and it's a short walk from the hotel.
and we load the bikes outside the hotel. Jeff seems to be getting personal service from Solomon the parking guy, who carries his bag for him.
In the square, there's a very tall palm tree that dominates. We'll be seeing more of these later.
We leave the town on the main road; vultures are attending to the remains of something furry, which our resident zoologist thinks may have been a zarigueya (opossum). A short while later we see the remnants of a chicken at the side of the road; its comrades obviously don't give a cluck, as they continue pecking the ground around it, oblivious to the demise of their pal. Craig admits that he was the two-wheeled assassin.
Further up the road a wheel barrow loaded with tools and materials is being towed behind a motorbike, held by the two arms of the pillion!
We pass through a familiar looking lively town, complete with trotting horses. For a moment I think we're back where we started; but no, it's a different town.
We start riding up a gravel track winding up into the hills. It's a fun track and I'm following Jeff who seems to be getting into his stride as our guide. But we still think he doesn't know our names.
On the other side of the valley there's a line of buildings that sits at the top of the valley. They look so precarious, but the views must be amazing.
We're up into the clouds by now and Jeff stops us at a vantage point over the valley. Well, it would be, but for the cloud today, so we don't see much.
Mark is in a lot of pain and despite sitting and keeping a steady pace, the bumpy terrain is causing too much flex in his ankle. He levers his boot off and Jeff adds an additional bandage to stiffen the ankle movement. But two attempts are needed as the first version doesn't fit back into Mark's boot. Back on the trail and he seems to be happier with the increased rigidity.
The 2900m altitude lunch stop is at the town of Marulanda, named after the colonel that founded the town.
It's colourful but there are few people around and it feels a bit dead at the moment. I wonder what it must be like living in these remote towns. There's no data connection on our phones (Tigo network), but there are two towers with radio dishes so there must be some kind of connectivity.
At the police station there's a female police officer on guard duty with an assault rifle almost as big as her.
The other officers are not doing much; it's a slow news day. Our arrival seems to spark their interest, but Jeff explains we're a bunch of European (mostly) tourists.
We ride out the way we came, which suggests this town is at the end of the road into the hills.
We take a different direction and climb higher, touching 3150m at one point. The sweet smell of eucalyptus filters into our nostrils as we wind through the trees. In Europe, typically at this altitude we'd be above the tree line, but here in the tropics the climate allows them to grow this high in the mountains.
Our next stop is at Bosque de Palmas de Cera, a reserve that aims to protect and propagate the very tall wax palm trees (Quindio), which is the national tree of Colombia and which is now endangered. We have a tour and learn about the trees, their history, and why they are now endangered. They grow up to 60m tall (tallest palms in the world) and live for around 200 years. In the past these were used to harvest wax to make candles and fuel, but now this is not allowed. New trees need to be shaded before they mature, or they die, but deforestation means that there is less shade available to protect those young trees. So when old trees die, there are few new trees to replace them; hence they are endangered.
Ray and I walk down through the thick grass to hug a tree and see if there's any wax on the trunk - just a few patches.
The grass is lush, making the walk back tougher at 3000m.
Riding on we pass through another town and hear a marching band practicing in the yard of a school. Steve stops to take pictures.
Our stop this afternoon is in the town of Salamina. The hotel Salamina Highs is very ornate, with wood carvings, chandeliers, and a secret garden with many orchids (Craig knows these well and gives us a tour of the different varieties). We're trying to work out if it's been designed by Versace, Liberace, or Trump (needs more gold).
There's even a chandelier in our bedroom, but nowhere to hang coats or anything. Not ideal for airing sweaty biking gear. (Picture from breakfast the next morning)
Dinner is at the equally ornate Don Fermin restaurant, adorned with copious artwork on the walls. We dine in a private room. I dress appropriately for the occasion.
After we get back to the hotel the heavens open with extreme heavy rainfall. It doesn't last more than about ten minutes, but it's deafening on the roof of the hotel, while Graham tries to teach Ray, Mick and Craig how to play "Liar Dice".
Ray and Graham tease each other mercilessly. Despite this, Mick wins. Beginners luck...
130km today with an educational pitstop.
1 comment:
Grand Lad.
Post a Comment