The tribes living in the lower areas around the mountains were massacred when they refused to adopt the religion and way of life favoured by the Spaniards. Although the Spaniards couldn't find or reach Teyuna and directly impose the joys of cultural and religious empire on the Tairona people there, the indigenous died out from starvation and malnutrition, as they were no longer able to leave their city to trade vital goods and services they needed to sustain life up there. The Spaniards were waiting for them lower down in the other villages, so it was too dangerous. The remoteness of the city, once a defensive bonus, turned their home into a prison.
After its abandonment, the city was lost for years until tomb raiders discovered it once more in 1973. When artefacts started appearing in the local black markets, the authorities revealed the city to the world. There are still indigenous tribes living in the area, and we passed a couple of small villages on the way.
In 2003 a group of tourists walking this trail was kidnapped by guerrillas but all were released after 3 months. The Colombian army now patrols the region and there have been no incidents since.
The trek was harder than I thought it would be. I knew it would be tough for me and I can't remember a more physically difficult 5 days, but it was absolutely worth it. Our group consisted of a Swiss couple, an Aussie with his Canadian girlfriend, 2 Dutch, an Aussie girl, an English guy and a kiwi (me). We were lucky - it was a good group and we got on well enough that we all spent several more days together after the trek.
The first day we were taken by jeep into a town from where we would start the walk. Our guide was the least likely looking guide you could imagine. A short, stocky fella who told me he'd knocked back 15 beers the night before was to lead us through the jungle and back. He was a great and knowledgeable guy, and was happy to answer any questions along the way. Once you got him started, he was off. I sometimes wondered if he would simply stop functioning if he stopped speaking.
The going was pretty easy for the first couple of hours, and we had our first couple of river crossings, which we would become very familiar with in the coming days. After the 2nd crossing we had a huge uphill which seemed to go on forever, and the heat made life no easier, with no assistance from any breeze either. When we finally leveled out it was just a short walk along a ridge to our first camp for the night. We slept in hammocks and got to bed early in order to get up early for the 2nd day. There isn't much to do at night on this trek, but that's ok - after the exertion of the day, sleep is much higher on the priority list than entertainment.
The 2nd day we were out on the trail in the early morning light and soon hit our first big downhill, which when you've got knees like a 90 year old is actually harder going than the uphills. So I now found myself in the unusual position of craving uphills and grimacing at the prospect of the downhills. And because you go back the same way you came, you know that each big uphill you do today will be a big downhill in a couple of days....
There isn't any wildlife to speak of on this trail, and some say that, like life, the trek is more about the journey than the destination. The surroundings are spectacular. There may be no birds or monkeys but the forest is an explosion of greens and magnificent trees, mixed with some amazing panoramic views over the occasionally open hillsides. Even though we left early on the 2nd day, it didn't take long to get a good sweat up, and we were relieved to reach our first swimming spot. I was especially relieved as it was after an enormous downhill which had my knees questioning the wisdom of coming on the trek.
After a refreshing dip we carried on towards camp 2 and passed a couple of small indigenous villages on the way. Some kids were more than happy to sit for photos. I guess they still enjoy the innocence of not knowing what outsiders have meant to their way of life for as long as Europeans have been traveling. I can't say I blame the elders that we passed for the mistrust and resentment in their eyes. Like everyone I guess, they just want to be left alone to live their lives in peace, but the reach of empire and exploitation is long, and doesn't have much room for exceptions.
It was only another couple of hours before we reached the camp, and it had started raining which brought some relief from the heat. I liked sitting on the rocks in the light rain taking in the forest. It reminded me of some parts of the South Island of NZ.
The 2nd day we only walked about 4 hours so it was an early finish and we had a lot of time to kill. I was enjoying just looking at the forest and the shapes of trees poking out from time to time through the increasingly heavy rain. After some big uphills and downhills I was happy to get to bed and give my aching body a break.
After another early night, it was another early start to make our way to the final camp. The terrain on the 2nd day had been difficult, but the 3rd day was much easier. There were more of those river crossings but no big hills. We passed a unit of soldiers monitoring the surrounding mountains and shared a joke and a smoke with them. I guess they must enjoy the novelty of tourists coming through to give them a break from the tedium.
We'd hoped to be able to reach the 3rd camp and go straight to see the city in the afternoon, but the weather had closed in so we were stuck at camp for another long afternoon. We occupied ourselves with cards and banter and (randomly) popcorn which the camp had prepared, until it was time to get another early night.
Day 4 and we were up at sunrise to get up to the city in good time. It was a short walk to the start of the steps leading up to the city, and from there it got tough. The steps - 1,200 of them - are all different sizes and mostly slippery, and it was like a mega session on the stairmaster. Not that I have ever been on a stairmaster but I guess that's what it's like.
Some people say there's not much to see there but I thought it was spectacular. There weren't standing temples like Maccu Picchu has. In fact there are no original standing buildings, so it's very much the remains of a site, but I loved it. It's unlike anything I've seen before and you could still see how much of an endeavour it must have been to put this city together all those years ago, on a steep hillside, without the tools we have today.
As we arrived at the most photographed part of the city, ideal for a par 3, a helicopter landed and from it stepped the local shaman (the dude in the white in the picture below), with a film and sound crew in tow to do some sort of interview.
I understand he's supposed to spend most of his time in the highlands with the indigenous people, but rumour had it that he'd been in nearby Santa Marta for the previous couple of weeks getting pissed and shagging women. It was amusing and also a little sad that someone who's traditionally supposed to communicate with the spirit world, whether or not through the use of hallucinogenics, had turned into an out and out party animal. I had to admire his style rocking up in a chopper and doing a doco before probably heading back to Santa Marta to get back on it.
It was good that the helicopter was there. We could relax for a while in the sunshine waiting for them to do their thing before negotiating our way back down the slippery steps. The girls from our group went down and had a massive photoshoot with a bunch of soldiers who were stationed above the city and who guard it, so they weren't complaining either.
With the greatest of care - this is the last place you want to pick up an injury - we made our way down the steps and back to camp 3 for a quick lunch before powering on back to camp 2. As we approached the camp, a storm hit and the final river crossing was impossible, so our guide took us another way and across another swollen crossing. It was a good way to get the adrenaline going again at the end of a hard day and, combined with the satisfaction of having reached the city, had us all in high spirits. As did the rum the Dutch had brought with them.
There was also some sort of party the guides and locals were having in camp as well so it was a good atmosphere all round and a nice way to spend our final night. I've said that there isn't much in the way of wildlife on the trail, but the major exception to this are the insects. They're enormous and not very friendly looking. Some people kept finding huge bizarre looking things and consulting the guide on how dangerous they were. The diagnosis was usually that the insect in question was harmless enough, but the treatment was always a swift flip flop from the guide to the insect putting an end to the issue. We'd found a scorpion on the 3rd morning at the camp so we weren't assuming anything was safe.
The final day was to be the hard one. On the 5 day trek, which we did, you spend the final day walking from camp 2 all the way back to the start of the trail, so it's 7 hours up those downhills and down those uphills from before. You could easily do this trip in 4 days, by making it to what was our 3rd camp on day 2, and that way you wouldn't have as much time to kill on the 2nd and 3rd afternoon. There's also the option of a 6 day trek, which must drive you insane.
One of the girls had caught a virus so needed to ride a donkey back. I was lucky enough to be able to stick my bag on there, so it made the final day less painful for me. Still it was a great relief to get back to the start of the trail and trade our boots for flip flops again.
Would I recommend this trip? You bet. But make sure you have decent insect repellant, zip lock plastic bags, good footwear, good socks and enough of them. For once I was organised and had the right kit, and that might have made the difference between it being too tough for me and not. One of the guys walked the whole thing in a pair of Converse trainers - a great effort. There was one bit on the 3rd morning where we had to scramble around some riverside rocks, with nothing to break the fall and nothing to hold on to. It's probably too dangerous in fairness (they were fixing it shortly after we went through), and someone has apparently died on the trail before, so we thought it must be here. But the Converse shoes did the job for this guy. So, you can do it without all the kit but it's probably not the best idea, especially if you go in the rainy season.
This was one of the hardest things I've done, and I guess maybe that helped to make it one of the best as well.
PARQUE NACIONAL TAYRONA
After the exertions of the trek, a bunch of us headed over to the national park just outside of Taganga.
We trekked a couple of hours to get there (because we hadn't had enough) slept in hammocks (again) and enjoyed a relaxed couple of days. Like with Playa Blanca when I was in Cartagena, the beach was empty after the boat left in mid afternoon. It was just what the doctor ordered and I probably should have stayed there a little longer but it was getting time to leave the coast and head south.
SIMON BOLIVAR
I should mention in passing Latin America's most revered hero. Simon Bolivar was instrumental in fighting for the independence from Spain of Venezuela, Bolivia (which is named after him), Ecuador, Colombia and Peru. Statues of him appear in towns and cities throughout these countries and it's hard to imagine what life would have been like here now without his influence. He came to a hacienda in Santa Marta to die, of tuberculosis, aged only 47. To have achieved what he did at such a young age (he was younger than me when he took on the Spanish) is something to admire, and I liked going to the place he rested his head for the last time. I'm reading a book about him at the moment so may add a little more as I go...
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