All Change

Pretty pool, huge trees, solitude and easy living for the weekend. Right? Wrong. 

For some reason the pool was closed for cleaning on Saturday the very day after we arrived and had enjoyed one lovely swim, the sand fleas were ferocious and the owners’ dogs, two large dimwitted creatures with not a malicious bone in their bodies wouldn’t leave Rusty alone. He retreated to a quiet corner snarling occasionally to convince them to go away. We decided with a sigh, we had to leave. 

The owners came by when they took a break from organizing  their laborers and we had a pleasant chat as we packed up to go. They recently bought the place and are building a truck camper and want to overland one day. Meanwhile their hummingbird campground is getting ready to expand and become home to overlanders only, no hotel restaurant or other facilities will be offered. One hummingbird got into our home but we swooshed it safely on its way. Silly bird. 

Rusty the sensitive kept his back to the walls so when we went for a walk to relive his boredom the cacophony of fenced in dogs in the street outside made him turn tail back to the relative safety of the campground. That was where the idiot dogs of the owner came by for some more friendly and decidedly unwanted attention. Rusty and I are well suited to each other, two shy grouch potatoes. 

Layne and I liked this place and we were tempted to stay but no swimming pool and an irritated Rusty got us on the road. 

And it was a good day for a drive. I like wide smooth four lane pavement from time to time. We had a Jack Reacher novel on the stereo from the Libby app, the air conditioning drowned the noise of the world outside and the sun shone. At 45 miles an hour I stayed in the slow lane and let my mind drift. I could have been enjoying a Sunday drive on a US interstate. 

Cali is the target where there is another campground with a pool. Our back up plan. 

A “bascula” ( weigh station) actually in operation pulling trucks off the freeway to check their loads. 

Those bloody recreational cyclists clumped in the slow lane of the freeway. This lot I photographed with my little Panasonic camera because they were safely on the shoulder, but usually they are all over the place. It makes a North American driver crazy but I have to keep my irritation to myself as this is normal in Colombia. 

The  situation at the moment is that our parts ordering operation has not yielded any actual deliveries. We have brake dust seals still on the way (thank you Dan) and an engine oil cooler is supposed to be here this week to replace the one slowly leaking oil. The rectangular silver box below. 

We bought an upgraded aluminum cooler built by Dorman supposedly an upgrade on the plastic factory installed cooler which is prone to leaks. This one lasted 50,000 miles and hopefully its $180 replacement from Dorman will last at least as long. Hopefully it will be at our campground address by Wednesday. Maybe. Hopefully. Fingers crossed. 

Meanwhile we’re swimming at our campground outside Cali where the pool is closed for cleaning every Monday,the day we will do some laundry and shopping in Cali. Then on Wednesday we’ll drive up to the La Bonanza campground three hours away in the mountains where our parts will have arrived and we’ll have them installed. Yay. Or not and we’ll have to wait. 

Staying positive we expect to drive to Ecuador some time in early June. It’s raining there too so there’s no real hurry but I want to cross the equator for the first time in my life and Webb Chiles, a frequent visitor there insists it’s the best hemisphere. 

Patience is a virtue and Colombia is a pleasant place to hang out I tell myself. And so it is.

Coffee Mountain

Visit Pijao (“pee-how”) we were told, it’s a lovely little town. We tried; we failed. 

This part of Colombia between Cali and Medellin is coffee country which consists of short shiny leaved bushes sitting in rows up hill and down dale on steep ridges around 6,000 feet above sea level. The roads are of good quality and the scenery is quite attractive. The trouble is, when you drive up into the hills the roads get dastardly. 

Paved, yes which is nice but narrow and steep are the order of the day.  We had no idea how slow the going would be when we set off for Pijao in the heart of it all. We had no regrets about trying as the scenery was spectacular. 

We started out by leaving the town of Salento under cloudy skies with a promise of sunshine at last. I made time for a short walk for the intrepid Rusty,

We had a strangely unsweetened flaky cinnamon roll served warm and buttery with a cappuccino for breakfast. 

Our 21 foot van squeezes into parking spaces all over these small towns which is very convenient.

The road from Salento to Pijao was a mixture of four lane highway past Armenia devolving into a two lane road through neatly kept farms and lush rain forest. 

It’s slow going averaging less than thirty miles an hour but the morning passed very pleasantly. We talked idly of spending  the night in coffee country as we went.  

We had no idea what kind of countryside  we were going to and soon it became obvious even to oblivious us, this was going to be an extra slow winding mountain drive.  

Rainy season makes these places extra lush and beautiful but mud slides were evident everywhere. 

Dodging low hanging branches became an occupational hazard. 

Low hanging clouds were visible everywhere on the mountain peaks but it was lovely to drive in the sun for a change. 

Cell service is ubiquitous in Colombia. We use Verizon international, a $100 a month supplemental plan that gives us service everywhere in the world seamlessly with no need to hunt down local SIM cards every time we cross a border. The local cards are cheaper and thus more popular with overlanders not on monthly pension plans like us (Thank you City of Key West) but we found the SIMS a nuisance to buy and recharge in each country. So we pay more for the convenience of seamless Verizon coverage. 

Buenavista bills itself as the yellow town, the color of happiness (liquor advertising to pay for the billboard!) but we weren’t stopping as we wanted to see Pijao even though obviously this was becoming a bit more of a trek than we had expected. We had had no idea the area was so hilly and rugged.  

Oddly enough I don’t find driving these narrow incredibly steep little streets very stressful. The Promaster has a superbly tight turning radius and GANNET2 isn’t much wider than a car yet the bulk of the 21 foot van tends to intimidate others, which works to our advantage. Streets can be incredibly steep in Colombia set at impossible angles and I wish the camera showed that more effectively. 

Past the town going toward Pijao the hillsides were a profusion of jungle. 

Notice the absence of trash. Colombia is much cleaner and tidier than Mexico. 

Buenavista seen looking back from the road to Pijao at around 5,000 feet. 

A side road provided a rare turnout on this narrow road. We stopped, we peed, we contemplated and we planned. 

It went something like this: it’s noon, we’re making ten miles an hour, maybe, and once we get to Pijao we will have to come back the way we came, hills and all. The weather is good but it usually rains in the afternoon and what precisely is the point of continuing? 

Layne pointed out we’d seen the scenery and we’d proved we can handle the roads and GANNET2 was doing splendidly in these conditions shod with our new all terrain tires, so why press on? 

And let’s be honest there was the small matter of the swimming pool. So we turned around. 

Back we went down the squiggly blue line. We use Google Maps and street view pretty much as we do at home with our phones on the dashboard. It probably seems silly but we are used to miles so that’s what we use, the dashboard is in miles which makes it easier for us to remember oil change intervals and we keep our mapping in miles as well as they are easier for us to visualize. We are in our space aboard GANNET2 so we do what works for us. 

Buenavista once again down the hill. 

We stopped to take a break and cool off the brakes as well. I had a Coke and a puffball pastry largely flavorless,

after we looked around a bit …

…and a local came up intrigued not by the interior this time but by the mechanicals of this strange V-6 gasoline powered van. 

I took the time to admire my parking job. It actually looks worse in the picture but in real life it didn’t stick out too far and it was not an inconvenience to passers-by, you may be surprised to learn. 

Layne had a soursop smoothie (“guanabana”) which reminded me of the ice cream I used to enjoy at Flamingo Crossing in Key West, a moment of nostalgia. 

With no street dogs to threaten him in this clean tidy town Rusty got into the spirit of the thing. 

Time to press on. That swimming pool was calling from the campground Layne had discovered about ninety minutes away on the road to Cali. We enjoy swimming and miss the beach from time to time. 

I kept GANNET2 in manual first gear and we wound down the mountain at about 15 miles per hour with minimal brake use. 

I know it sounds slow but around here twenty miles per hour sometimes feels like freeway speeds with all the uncertainty of potholes, speed bumps, broken asphalt and wild motorcycles round each curve. 

We stopped for lunch and the two kids riding their motorcycle with their two dogs(!) got a tour of the van of course as they waited for their empanadas. 

Lunch with a view. 

We boxed the delicious lentil soup for dinner. 

The road showed abrupt signs of wear and tear from ground slippage and slides. 

Notice the complete absence of warning signs. 

You can’t go fast when this could be around any corner: 

And as expected the rain came back for a visit: 

The campground outside the delightfully named town of Bugalagrande has all the fixings to keep us here the weekend before we drive north to Cali. 

It gets Rusty’s seal of approval and the pool is excellent. $12:50 a night including pool privileges seems reasonable. 

And we are alone.