Pasto

We had no idea what to expect as we took Highway 25 south past Popayán, into new territory, driving a road unknown to us. 

This was Sunday in Popayán in the middle of a three day weekend. The traffic wasn’t heavy but we passed by roadside gatherings, a few bicycles and lots of families out for the day or weekend. 

We saw mountains ahead some covered in clouds. I had an idea we were going to driving up a valley, straight up to 10,000 feet at the border with Ecuador.

But the highway wasn’t like that. The road went up a mountain ridge, then back down and then it crossed a wide valley and then climbed another ridge before we reached the city of Pasto and camped at 9,000 feet with overnight temperatures near fifty degrees. 

I took almost a hundred pictures on the road. I use a small Panasonic with a short telephoto lens, set to be about right for the light, though I can easily adjust shutter speed with my forefinger. I don’t enjoy using my phone as a camera not least because it’s so fiddly. The GX85 sits in the window tray and I can pick it up and squeeze the shutter without looking at it and hoping for the best. This one, below, I took while pulled over and sometimes I use Laynes pictures. But mostly I discard a lot of crap and try to illustrate a story with the rest. 

When the road gets gnarly I turn to Layne and hope she got something I can use. These are mine of some difficult moments on Highway 25 to Pasto. This is the scene of a giant mudslide: 

A couple of years ago heavy rains destroyed the road in a huge mudslide that took months to fix. They did a good job but this is the PanAmerican and around here there no alternative routes. They dug out mud tracks which got slick in the rain and buses trucks and cars could barely move. It was pretty horrible and I only saw photographs. We couldn’t have driven it. 

We saw evidence of unstable soil along the highway and it was not confidence inspiring. 

There were some rocks in the road, not photographed for reasons explained above but there was lots of evidence of slides. 

There was one spectacular road dip where the highway slid a few feet and there it sits. Even the locals picked their way gingerly across the wrecked ends of the slide:

If the road had slid away into the void the authorities would have had to rebuild. Instead they have just ignored the mess. Imagine coming across this blind at 50 mph, and it’s worse than it looks. The truck stopped and proceeded very gingerly across the dirt. 

The drive was enjoyable in its way, an act of exploration through scenery that photographs snapped from the road cannot properly express. All I can tell you is we were above the tree line and we saw huge granite cliffs and sweeping folds and ridges in every direction. It was spectacular in ways we have never before seen. It was 130 miles and hours of rough bumpy road with random potholes through mountains that took our breath away.

Driving with headlights on in a tunnel is a law not taken seriously in Colombia. Yeah, I had a few gringo moments in the dark, “why can’t they …?” me yelling into the void after another near miss.  Note the mid slides at the entrance, which doesn’t help inspire confidence. 

He wanted $7:50 to give GANNET2 a long overdue bath. I gave him $12:50 and fed his dog as much as he could eat. Rusty retired to his bed in a huff. 

Passing as you do in Colombia. Every time I got ambition Layne flashed me filthy looks but passing safely is actually possible. Not necessarily like this: 

What a variety of landscapes on the road between Popayán and Pasto. 

And there is the capital of the department of Nariño, the land that stretches from the Pacific inland along the border with Ecuador. It’s cocaine cowboy country, and totally unsafe to travel outside the narrow corridor of the PanAmerican. 90 more minutes south and we’ll be at the bridge into Ecuador. But that’s after Rusty gets his pet papers in Pasto. 

We spent the night at a camping spot just outside the city at 9,000 feet  at 1 degree 12 minutes North of the equator. The dotted line below shows the rest of our route to the border with Ecuador. We plan to cross Tuesday morning. 

Colombia Good Bye

As you read this we are on the road to our first stop near the city of Pasto, on the 240 mile drive to Ecuador. Tomorrow we visit the vet for Rusty’s papers and then our plan is to drive to the border ready to cross on Tuesday. We first came to La Bonanza two months ago and made trips from the campground to explore central Colombia and we’ve enjoyed it. Not least the Moroccan tagine, lamb stew offered by Anwar the owner.

Kika and Anwar the owners from Morocco have owned La Bonanza for seven years. It’s for sale so they may not be here when we drive back from Argentina and that is on our minds too. 

For $11 a day (plus $4 a day for 110 volt or 220 volt electricity) we get all facilities including hot showers, dump station, water which we filter to drink, and of course trash disposal. That’s the practical side of La Bonanza but beyond all that is the welcome given by experienced travelers who know what their guests need. And some of what we need is a lovely garden which Rusty and I have enjoyed. 

Don Guillermo the gardener responsible for the garden. 

All of this is his handiwork and he does it well. 

Bedusha the campground dog. I call her Mischief but she is actually very sweet. Rusty kind of likes her but he hates me being affectionate with her.  

And then there’s Negra a Mexican street dog rescued with her litter of puppies by a couple of Spanish van travelers. They are getting their van worked on and are living in an apartment here. Rusty likes her but…I’m not allowed to pet her. Mine is a jealous dog. 

Uri and Marga bought a Peugeot Jumper in Mexico two years ago. That’s the French version of our van, the same body with a diesel engine and manual shift. And they ran over a rock and wrecked their rear suspension in some manner I haven’t quite understood. Apparently it’s a serious repair do they are lucky to be here in their misfortune.

I wanted to remember one of my favorite museums in Colombia, the Museum of Antioquia which is the department of which Medellin is the capital. The city I saw I did not like but I want to post some of the pictures that spoke to me. I’ve never heard of the artists (except Botero) but I found art that spoke to me in the walls of that building. 

Plaza of the Statues dedicated to Botero bronzes: 

By Pedro Nel Gomez, THE REPUBLIC, 1936. 

Portraits by Eladio Vélez:

Camilo Echevarría’s 1970 painting of the Rio Cauca reminded me of the familiar Ansel Adams photo of the Snake River. But I’ve actually seen this scene and I loved this rendering of it: 

Ignacio Gomez Camarillo’s 1937 portrait called TALKING: 

Photos of protests in the 1930s:

There was so much more the museum deserves days of visits. Layne got to walk among the pimps prostitutes and drug dealers and users among the outdoor statuary of Botero. I was hanging with Rusty aboard GANNET2 as he had decided he didn’t like Medellin.