The Road To Medellin

There exists a poem by Rudyard Kipling telling a story of love in Burma between a British soldier and a maiden down by the Moulmein Pagoda on the Road to Mandalay. 

I kept humming, hopefully in my head, the chorus from the song of same name listening in my mind to Leonard Warren grinning madly as he stomped on the syllables in the word Mandalay.

Medellin is not Mandalay but at the time of writing I’ve been to neither city and I suppose I should admit I had not much interest in seeing Medellin, a fashionable tourist hub done to death in photo and film but fashionable travelers. Plus there is no suitable convenient campground for us. The campground loved by overlanders is inhabited by six dogs and as lovely as they may be Rusty couldn’t cope with a pack like that so we’re not staying there. 

We left La Bonanza campground Monday and drove to Cali three hours north to shop for food, do laundry and go for a swim.

The road from Cali to Medellin is a seven hour drive roughly on a pretty decent highway that starts out across flatlands, hot humid and covered in sugarcane. Pretty tropical.

With frequent toll booths taking us for four bucks at a time, which isn’t the worst of it; the time it takes to get through the lines makes me happy I’m not driving for a living. 

Lunch was the usual robust Colombian fare of meat with meat and a side of meat with a fresh air sauce. Bloody hell it was a lot of sauce-free meat.

Don’t be surprised to hear Rusty got a treat and he liked it not least because the meat was seasoned and beautifully cooked. It wasn’t a $20 lunch though. 

We stopped up the road at a fruit stand and Layne got herself a delicious pineapple as I watched two men load a truck full of them, one by one. The minimum wage in Colombia is $300 a month. The grumpy lady with her thumb out is touting for trade from the passing cars. 

Driving a freeway in Colombia is an experience you wouldn’t enjoy I promise you. The weird thing is after four months I’m used to it and I enjoyed the drive. Even on the four lane I held down to 40mph and just as well. There was a horse and cart only another shoulder clipping along hauling a pile of sugarcane. I had to almost stop to let some suicide drivers pass on our left. 

The problem you is you just never know what you’ll come across, a pothole possibly though most of the road is pretty good in that regard. Some motorcycles meander, some cars too so you come around a wide bend in the highway and you either switch lanes or if you are hemmed in you slow down, hard even from 40 mph. 

Then there are the Venezuelan refugees walking along the shoulder northbound toward the perils of the Darien Gap. You see whole families, parents infants and small children walking the family dog on a leash. It’s heartbreaking, asking ourselves where they expect to be welcomed. The new President of Panama wants to shut down the flow of people walking the Darien Gsp where thousands die amdcfisappear and thousands more start the walk toward Mexico and the US. Now Mexico’s President has said he will use US money from the Biden administration to stop the flow and organize repatriation from Mexico. And thousands more keep walking and overwhelming all the sound bites. Venezuela, land of oil, has a lot to answers to seek from its leaders.  

And the highway hits the mountains. 

At just over two miles long the first of two tunnels surprised Layne who thought it was the longest she had transited. I was surprised how modern it was inside, honestly. 

Of course not everyone had their lights on…

Colombia is far more beautiful than my photos show, mountains and clouds green fields and even greener forests everywhere. 

Motorcycles and cars constantly tailgating between the numerous passing zones. We saw a motorcycle fatality in Cali and an eighteen wheeler on its side in a curvy section of highway and there were more near misses than you want to know. Passing dangerously is in God’s hands here and frequently it seems more like the Devil is involved. 

On our side of the Cauca River is the department of Antioquia, while on the other side is Caldas. Antioquiz is the department headed by Medellin so we knew we were getting close to the city known mostly for cocaine cartels but that has been though a huge transformation into a tourist magnet. 

Honestly much of this drive through the steep river valley reminded me of West Virginia. 

More long lines at the Peaje- toll booth - which didn’t seem so bad considering the quality of the road. 

Unlike Mexico where the toll amount is a closely guarded secret until you get to the booth, Colombia gives you a chance to get the cash organized. At 1:12pm at the Supia toll booth cars, campers and pick ups paid 10,500 pesos which divided by four comes to about $3:75 ($1 equals 4,000 pesos). I always tell the attendant the van is “Sencillo” which literally means simple but in this case means no twin axles at the back where they always glance as I arrive. An “eje” is an axle if you check below. 

iOverlander revealed a campground at a hotel with pool in the town of La Pintada astride the Cauca River five hours from Cali. We arrived in time for a good long swim in the torrid heat.  $7:50 to camp and $7:50 to swim for both of us, with WiFi clean toilets and cold showers. 

Back on the road in the heat down at 3,000 feet we used our air conditioner off our batteries while we had dinner. GANNET2 is running beautifully after our recent brake job and oil cooler replacement so this test run tells me we seem to ready for Ecuador. And at ten thousand feet it will be a lot cooler.