Colombia part 2- The Lost City...

In northern Colombia I decided to do a 6 day trek into the jungle to see the famous cuidad perdida (lost city). So, having paid up my money for the tour (apparently included security money to the government and militias to secure our passage), 11 of us set of in an obvious tourist looking truck (which had to be helped along in places) up a mountain and towards the village which is the starting point for the trek..Below is a (brief) day by day account of the fun...

Day 1

Mainly uneventful afternoon of walking up step mountains/hills and getting used to sweating in the 30 degree humid heat..Before camp stopped at last shop for a few days (which was actually more of a hut) and drank coke for a while. Actually turned out to be for slightly too long, as the last 30 mins of steep down-hill walking to our camp for the night were pretty much in the dark. Still, we all made it for cold showers (bliss), chicken stew and an early night in our hammocks...

Day 2

Up early for bread eggs and chocolate-coffee combo, before heading off for an up and down walk through misty hills towards our next campsite. On the way we saw quite a large native village of huts surrounded by barbed wire, presumably to keep the tourists out...Still, our guide managed to trade some cookies for bananas which I thought was good for us, though not so sure for them..Actually, in this brief stop we managed to find out quite a bit of info about their life. The males have satchels for putting all their good stuff in, females have necklaces (and also satchels sometimes). They also live separately, and head off to caves should they need to meet up on a personal level.

Arrived at campsite around early afternoon, which was thankfully close to a large river with a pool, great for cooling off after hot walking..Also met the previous group that had just returned from the lost city and were also staying the night. This included the Kiwi guys I had met in Bogota and San Gil, so good to catch up and hear all the scare stories of our next day of walking..

The local village...

..though I'm not sure if the locals were greatly impressed with us tourists..

Day 3

Up early again, for the final push towards the lost city. The morning involved following the river up stream, including wading accross it up to the knees around 6 times, which was all fun. At lunchtime, made it the foot of the infamous 2200 steps leading towards the top of the lost city directly from the river. Mustering unknown energy reserves (and helped by the cheese sandwiches just consumed) we crossed the river for the last time and headed up the steps. 2200 steps later we were there and had found the ´lost city.´ Views from the top (apparently the rich part) pretty stupendous, out accross forested valleys with little sign of habitation. Our accommodation close-by also pretty swish- A 3-floor cabin with mattresses (no hammocks here) and a great view. Having settled in, I decided to go for a walk before dinner and to my surprise I found 2 ´lost American tourists´ in the lost city. Apparently they had made it there by themselves! Bringing them back to our camp, our guide Rodrigos was also surprised as he said that they were the first tourists he had met in 2o years who had got there ´sin guide.´ Luckily for them, we had shelter and food (which they seemed to lack for some reason- travelling hopefully came to mind here). After super cold shower and carb dinner of pasta and rice settled down in our semi- mosquito free ( but cozy) compound for a relatively late night (8.30 pm..).

One of the several river crossings on the way to the lost city..

The only way was up once we got there...

Day 4

Up early (6.30 am) for cheese empanadas, before heading off on exclusive tour of the lost city (I say exclusive as there was only the 13 of us and the guide there). Apparently, the city had around 10,000 inhabitants between 700- 1500, when the influence of the Spanish imported diseases seems to have been felt. The city was built on a number of terraces, some of which have been cleared of forest. The richer people lived higher up, and the clever children had their own special areas to grow up in and learn to be spiritual leaders. We also saw signs of current inhabitation, in terms of the shaman's hut (kind of indigenous communities doctor), where he comes with his 2 women from time to time. Left city around midday, and headed down the steps towards the river and the campsite from 2 days ago. Fairly uneventful walk back, though did foster the spirit of European unity in a break, when I helped the Dutch guy Martin build a dam across the river..


This seemed like a particularly popular picture of the lost city...

Another one of those photo opps in the lost city...

Day 5

Retracing steps of 3 days ago, a fairly long walk back to first campsite. Perhaps most exciting thing was the guide promising exciting fruit and then not being able to find the fruit that had been hidden in the undergrowth for us by the porters for quite some time....

Day 6

After last night in hammocks for a while, we headed up hill for around an hour, getting to the mini-shop encountered on the first day for canned drinks and chocolate (luxury!). However, when we eventually set off again, I realised that something wasn´t quite right. In fact, my travel washing line was missing (I had been using it to hold my sleeping bag onto my rucksack securely, so was slightly annoyed). Thinking I need the exercise anyway, I decided to turn back to camp to get it. Leaving my rucksack at the shop, I therefore started to walk-run down the hill we had just come up, not wanting to get too far behind the others. However, I soon realised that I was not alone! Circling above me was a police helicopter. At first this did not greatly phase me, as we had seen helicopters on the first day and our guide had said that they were looking for cocoa plants rather than errant tourists. Despite this, it did seem slightly strange to me that they kept coming over the path, and low enough for me to see the guys in the helicopter.

Undeterred, I carried on to the camp, where I found my washing line, tried to explain to the women at the adjacent house what I was doing, and then headed back up the hill to catch up with the others. Only later on did I find out from the guide that the police had been looking for a drugs barron that was fleeing to the jungle to hide, and that they may actually have been checking me out to see if I fitted the profile. Guess I was too tall and gringo looking, though may have been nice to get a lift back in the helicopter to town as by that point was getting a bit tired!..In the end made it back to Taganga on the coast unscathed (despite a few minor problems with our truck), and was able to spend the next day relaxing and recuperating on the beach...