Good Friday Traffic Control

The town of Mongui (“mon-ghee”) has been on Layne’s radar for some time, said to be a beautiful heritage town high in the mountains above the industrial city of Sogamoso, so we drove there on Good Friday morning, our driver (me) anticipating horrendous crowds and much chaos. I was, as usual incorrect when I pit my feeble wits against those of my dear wife.

Yes the town was crowded but not overly crushing at all. In fact Good Friday it turned out was a great day to visit Mongui as every shop was open and everyone was touting for business so we got a real taste of the town. Colombians as usual were polite and friendly and curious and Rusty handled the crowds masterfully. He is really growing into a confident dog like he never was in the orderliness of the States.

Colombians welcome dogs everywhere and locals expect to bring their beasts with them: we always ask first. If you don’t like dogs in restaurants strike Colombia from your future itineraries. 

I kept him on his leash outside the pedestrian zone created for the holiday but otherwise when we were in the car-free zone he wandered around on his own each of us keeping an eye on the other. I talk to him in English so from time to time the Colombians ask “is he American? Does he bark like our dogs?”

Mongui sits high in an Andean valley at 9600 feet. Or at least that seems high to us at the moment. In the future we will feel as though we are at sea level if we get below 10,000 feet…and the road to this precious jewel of Colombian tourism is less than perfect. Leave the industrial city of Sogamoso behind and you encounter stretches of crap road.

The main roads tend to be pretty good except for occasional ruffles in the asphalt. Back roads seem to get no attention at all. 

Sometimes Google maps plays tricks on you as the little blue line has a tendency to imagine the shortest distance between two points is the shortest road. That road can often be rather slow in a heavy van: 

And than as if by magic pavement reappears.

Never forget the random placement of tools designed to slow you down. Motorcycles zip by round the edges of the speed bumps! Not a big enough advantage to make me want to ride again. 

There is a great deal of wilderness in Colombia, all of it private except for an occasional national park and the scars of resource depletion are everywhere. 

Not everyone cooks with propane as these are people with not much in the way of resources.  

Traffic jam! It was brief, a tour bus leaving the parking lot where visitors were required to park for $2:50 (10,000 pesos). 

There were no other foreign registered vehicles that I could see. 

Then we hiked a few blocks up the hill into town. I found my breathing much easier than I expected so I must be acclimating. Altitude affects people in different ways and at different heights. Basically you start with a headache that can develop into nausea and making an effort causes you to feel breathless, you suck in air but feel no relief. It’s rather creepy. In extreme cases you get fluid in the lungs or blood clots and unless you descend you die. We aren’t anywhere near that kind of altitude. Yet. 

No cars allowed for Easter weekend. 

In Colombia this square is famous. 

The city hall building: 

Being Good Friday the purple covers were out. Easter is actually the greatest holiday in the Catholic calendar despite the commercialization of Christmas. The way it was put to me goes: everyone is born but no one gets resurrected. Nevertheless the crowds were outside enjoying the day off not in here on their knees. 

It is quite the impressive building. Like the main Catholic Church in Key West, St Mary’s, this cathedral of Our Lady of Mongui  has also been declared a “minor basilica” a fact of which they are proud enough to have posted a sign to that effect. 

Unless you are in poverty stricken areas in the countryside you will rarely see a malnourished dog in Colombia. It’s one of the things I appreciate about this country over Mexico. 

Crowded but not oppressive. 

Colombians we have found are very good natured and cheerful. There is a sense of optimism here now that the civil war is history, hopefully for good, and cocaine production has moved elsewhere, notably Ecuador our next destination currently in a state of emergency. Great. Colombia though is doing well and wants tourists. 

There a brew pub on the main square so we took a pause that refreshes. 

Mongui was founded on the last day of 1601 and was declared a Heritage town in 2010. 

Officially there are 5,000 residents in the town and they are politically active. By my count half the city turned out to vote in municipal elections last November when the city turned away from two previous mayors and elected a new face. The new mayor is petitioning the federal government for a new hospital to be built in the city. Getting things done I guess. “Drink like the old TVs - without controls!”  

Despite the sign (above) urging people to let their hair down at the pub we limited ourselves to one and then went in search of a snack. The strange bready arepas of Boyacá were everywhere,  filled with a mixture of cornmeal and cheese. They’re pretty good hot off the grill (for 50 cents each!) and Rusty couldn’t get enough of mine if you need his endorsement. 

A bakery loaded with arepas: 

A crisis arose in 1932 when Peru and Colombia went to war over an obscure Amazonian border separating the two countries to the east. By 1933 a treaty was signed in Geneva ceding Leticia province to Colombia. One of the soldiers sent to fight was Froulán Ladino from Mongui and while there he learned the art of making footballs from some Brazilian soldiers guarding their common frontier. 

Ladino came home and started a football manufacturing business in his home town where agriculture was king. The footballs became famous across the country until the usual happened and cheap Chinese imports killed the trade. However the nostalgia for the period means  soccer balls are now a tourist souvenir. Go to Mongui and come home with a soccer ball. Layne bought a van sized soccer ball key chain. 

We picked up some local meat delicacies the usual sausage and head cheese to have a picnic lunch aboard GANNET2 in the grassy parking lot. 

We got to lunch after Layne gave one more tour of our mobile home (“casa rodante”) to a curious Colombian family who walked up and nervously asked if they could see it. 

Rusty took up his favorite position. 

And we got ready for the hourlong drive home. Our excursion to 10,000 feet seemed to annoy GANNET2 a bit as the check engine light came on again. I expect to see that come and go as the computer learns to cope with varying amounts of oxygen in the air as we drive the Andes over the next several months. 

I’d like to say the drive home was uneventful but we had several near misses from over enthusiastic drivers taking mountain turns at speed which increased our resolve to stay off the roads for the weekend. 

And then we witnessed a hit and run. I saw the car swerve and thought it was avoiding a branch in the road. The branch was a man lying face down motionless under his bicycle in the traffic lane. Whether he wobbled into the car or the driver was on his phone or drunk and hit him I don’t know, but the car took off. I stopped and turned on the four way flashers and went to check him out. 

He was out cold face down on the roadway. He had a pulse and no broken bones that I could feel so we carefully moved him to safety, a crowd had formed but as usual. No one had a clue what to do so I asked one person to call 911 and after making sure he was awake and breathing I tried to sort out the traffic jam while we waited for the emergency services. 

My wife took these pictures of the dispatcher (retired) doing traffic control somewhat unwillingly. We carry equipment required in Latin America, reflective vest, triangles, electric fusees and the huge red flag which isn’t actually required but has given useful service every time we come across an accident and that’s happened twice already before in Mexico. Finally I unsnarled the traffic much to my own surprise and the looky loos left. Thank god a doctor stopped to keep an eye on the patient who was awake with a smashed face and not much awareness of his surroundings, so we were free to go. So we did and no sign of police or ambulance after about half an hour of chaos. 

Don’t get injured on the road is my advice. 911 doesn’t work here like it did in Key West where we had an average response time of less than two minutes downtown. 45 minutes after I was knocked off my motorcycle on Cudjoe Key I was in an MRI in a Miami trauma center hospital.   Here I’d have been dead so I’m glad we’re in a big van.  

Lake Trout

You know how the people in charge tell us cheese and fish don’t go together? I guess the message hasn’t reached Lake Tota in Colombia. My trout was covered in melted cheese and mushrooms! Never had that before. Layne’s trout was swimming in cheese and crisp sweet shrimp:

Our landlord, the redoubtable Hildebrando had mentioned he had work to do on the shores of Colombia’s largest lake, building more rental cabins in his growing empire of rental units which will eventually fund his retirement. His goal is to spend half the year with his Colombian wife in Quebec where his adult children live and then spend winters down here. A good plan. 

Hildebrando ordered his trout grilled with garlic do this is what the actual  fish looks like: 

We arranged to meet at his friend’s restaurant overlooking the lake called Arca De Noah ( no translation needed I hope!) and it looked crowded as you would expect on Maunday Thursday. But there was an opening in the restaurant parking lot tiny as it is and GANNET2 fit perfectly.

As usual it seems all destinations around here require mountain climbs in our Promaster van even though we start out from 8600 feet at our rental apartment. Lake Tota required one such climb to altitude! 

If you have been following us across Colombia I hope it’s clear by now that backroads require caution and slow driving in a heavy van. 

Slides and potholes are not repaired and are not expected to be made while. Hildebrando the consulate politician told us it is ecological to have busted roads. Even if they bust your car. 

Layne and I jumped on that quote and now when we see a section of pummeled dirt ahead we gleefully shout “ecological road ahead!” to each other. Personally I prefer these sections and I think GANNET2 does too: 

Naturally if you are Colombian and you are riding a motorcycle and you see a friend you want to chat with you stop. In a curve on a hill and ignore the side road where you could pull over safely. I had my gringo moment and gave them a big thumbs up as I took the corner far too wide to avoid killing the imbecile. It happens that what we think of as extremely foolish they shrug at so it’s better to get used to such behavior and I do try to shrug it off. 

And then minor irritations fade away as you round the corner and come across the largest lake in the country at ten thousand feet. 

Then the irritations come back…why can’t they build a proper scenic vista point? Why is there no real public access to the lake? Could they build a rest area or a public park? The gringo attitude springs forth. 

But seriously, can you imagine coming across this in the US or Canada and not seeing a dozen places to pull over with picnic tables, pit toilets, launch ramps (because we are wealthy and have boats, I know) and minimal access to the water for us mere car drivers? What about a trail or bike path? Around here it’s all private farmland and a road with no pull outs. 

They grow onions up here and someone is making good money off this rich farmland. The locals look poor as church mice so I’m thinking this is an area that might be ready for tourist exploitation like so much of under valued Colombia. In the meantime I’ll take it as I find it and be grateful I’m here to see it at all. But I do miss the public lands and parks and facilities at home.

Lake Tota was a center of astronomical observation by the pre Colombian residents called Muisca and they call this place the “fields of the river” or Tota. The lake is 8 miles long and four wide and 200 feet deep. It has five islands and the water temperature of 57 degrees is apparently perfect for raising trout. So there you have it in statistics. Onion fields forever. 

The biggest town near the lake (not on the lake of course so there is no waterfront to stroll) is Aquitania founded in 1777 even though conquistadors strolled through the original Muisca settlement here in 1540. We walked the main plaza and saw the monument to onion growers though unexpected pay raise would do them more honor. This is not a wealthy area of Colombia. 

We parked as usual on a side street carefully avoiding blocking gates or driveways. I know the van seems huge but I find it easy enough to maneuver in these small towns though lots of overlanders gear and avoid towns and cities. For us these are the places where local culture and life happen. 

Sort of local anyway! “The best American recipe” and yes I know calling citizens of the US “American” is appropriating a whole culture but it’s what Colombians call people from the US so take it up with them. 

I saw tons of these cargo tricycles in Mexico but this is the first in Colombia and it looks quite well built, better than the weedy orange colored tricycles in Mexico. 

Rusty navigating crowded sidewalks, his latest skill learned in his travels. 

Aquitania’s church is notable for a large statue of Christ calming the waters of the Sea of Galilee in a storm. 

Meanwhile I needed a bottle of shaving foam as I have just finished my last tube of Trader Joe’s shaving cream. It turns out the drugstore is quite the center of local gossip. 

All good things to come to him who waits but Rusty had found his spot. Naturally when he saw me trying to photograph him he got wearily to his feet. No peace for the wicked! Especially when they hate being photographed. 

I had to explain the parable behind the statue to Layne who was wondering why he looked as if he was about to take a header off the church. I suppose Aquitania feels an affinity with the distant lake but it’s an odd symbol to be hovering over the onion growers of the region. 

Indeed aside from the magnificent statue you would have no idea there was Colombia’s largest lake within onion tossing distance of the town. 

Friends of ours in a Jeep with a roof tent spent the night in this town square a few months ago and this is one of the prime overnight stops listed on iOverlander around Lake Tota. 

There are some camping places listed also but they are directed at the few weekend tent campers visiting from the big cities. Camping in Colombia isn’t as big as this in Panama or Costa Rica so “campgrounds” tend to be fields or parking lots next to hotels, at least around this lake. 

If it were a weekday outside Holy Week I would imagine this town would be quite sleepy. 

Mind you two couples visiting from Bogotá stopped by as we were getting ready to leave and Layne found herself giving the usual nickel tour. Colombian middle classes are fascinated by the dream of taking off and abandoning responsibility. I think the poorer locals who see is living in our car think we rich Americans must be mad, but cultural incomprehension works both ways as we have seen! 

In Colombia they call Mexican style “topes” “muertos” or dead men and though most are well marked and they are far fewer in number than in Mexico they continue to be an aggravation on the road. You have to come almost to a halt in a heavy van or you risk spilling everything inside while prematurely wearing out your suspension. You can see by lots of topes and steel knobs in the road leaving Aquitania. No surprise our average speed is around 20 mph. 

The lake shore is not even vaguely reminiscent of open space or public land at home and it’s just a fact of life you have to get used to. 

I was glad we made a day trip of it with no plans to sleep over on the lake shore. 

It’s basically farmland. 

And it is a famous tourist attraction in Colombia. 

Hildebrando wants to see Colombia develop its tourist potential and he’s seen how Canada manages to do that. He has a Mercedes Sprinter RV in Quebec City and he knows what’s needed in a campground. He has plans and I’ll be interested to see what happens. 

Gentrification occurring before our very eyes! With all the good and bad that brings…