The Lost City

So onwards from Cartagena and we went further up the north Colombian coast to Santa Marta. Arrival in this place took place in the dark of night and involved firstly getting to the hostel. We got a taxi to the door of the Dreamer Hostel. When we pulled up it looked dark, desolate and abandoned and there was a bizarre looking large dirty matrass outside the door. But the hostel is actually like something from a Carlsberg ad. Once you ring the bell and gain admittance, it is probably the best hostel in the world .... The door opens into a cool outdoor inner garden complete with bar, swimming pool, nice art on the walls and cool people sauntering about. The rooms surround this delightful courtyard. So, we were glad we had arrived.

We spent a day or two hanging about Santa Marta, which to be fair as a city, doesnt have all that much going for it. The drawcard of this place is all the amazing things you can do in the surrounding area. One of such things includes a visit into the depths of the vast chasm that is the..Sierra Nevada mountains. It´s also where, after a bit of a mission and a half, you might stumble upon...a Lost City.

Yep, the Ciudad Perdida is a place which only became known to the world after some treasure hunters happened into it in the 70´s. The indigenous crowd that live in the mountains knew about it all along though, as it was, and still is a very sacred place in their culture. One looter decided to let the Colombian authorities know about it and it has been fascinating visitors ever since. It´s believed to have been built long before Macchu Picchu in Peru. So off we went on our five day mission to get to it. Here´s a bit of an account of how our trip went.

Day 1
We got up, excited. We weren´t going to let the pissing rain dampen our spirits. Oh no, it was all systems go. We accepted that it was gonna be a wet one. We waited in the hostel to be picked up. Here we met a part of our fellow trekking contingent, Laura, Hugh and Riona from Ireland! The bus picked us up at about 10.30. Less a bus really and more an open sided truck that would ensure we´d be readily soaked before even getting there... If youve ever been on the Viking Splash tour in Dublin, twud remind you a bit of that. Two hours later and we got transferred into another smaller off road truck that would be taking us the first way into the wilderness. We started on the mucky slippy narrow track slowly but surely. All the supplies for the next 5 days of madness were loaded up on top and I must commend the efforts that were made to keep everything protected from the pouring rain. As is the norm on such truck journeys we began to be violently flung from side to side as the driver tried to navigate the tricky surface beneath. In the midst of this, it was also a good idea not to look out the window as we inched around bends and along sheer edges...and to try and ignore it when the truck nearly completely toppled onto its sides! But when that wasnt enough fun, it was crossing a few gushing rivers that added to the excitement.

Somehow the truck was able to cross these and manouvre its way out of the mud we were sinking into. All grand until we veered into one particular ditch, the vehicle jolted and we were stuck. Several attemptes to get us out were of no avail when we realised the steering was bashed. For a while we went nowhere....

.....waiting for another vehicle to come get us. When everything was finally transferred and ourselves squashed onto the new, smaller vehicle we were off again. We were ecstatic when we finally got to a little village where we´d have lunch and then set off.....

With all the hullabaloo with the truck, we were only setting off on foot at about 3pm. This meant we would have to trek into the night to get to the first camp....fabulous. The first hour of the hike was the usual jovial merriment that the beginnings of treks generally are. Then came the first adventure element - our first river crossing. It involved trying to keep our backpacks dry as we waded into the cold waters and tried to keep our balance as the water got steadily higher..(it would be a common feature over the next few days) After this we started ascending onto a narrower, steep and extremely wet and muddy path. You would either put your foot forward for it to slide back down to where it started or it would sink knee deep into a sludgy hole. It was quite a task indeed to keep the other foot steady while you tried to retrieve the invisible one from what seemed like cement! The views on this way up were absolutely phenomenal though....

Darkness came with a bang. We trudged on, not really knowing where to be putting our foot next. Our stupid cheap torch we´d bought the day before quickly ran out of steam and became useless. I had to be assisted from sliding numerous times by one or other of our super guides - Jesus, and a 13 year old helper from the indigenous community named Mariano basically became my two sidekicks!

A couple of hours of this and another wet river crossing and we eventually reached the beacon of base camp 1. Hip horray. We had much needed showers albeit cold and by borrowed torch light. Dinner was fantastic; Im amazed at how delicious the food was really. We chatted a bit and got to know everyone in our group. There were 5 Spanish girls, the Irish, 3 Ozzies, a German and a Swiss guy, great crowd of poeple. Then we went to our respective hammocks for a nights sleep.

Day 2

Into the soaked and freezing clothes it was and we were set for our morning amble down to the cocaine lab. That´s right, we were going to be shown the beginning stages of the lucrative coke industry tucked up here in the depths of a Colombian mountain range. This, by the by, is not an official part of the Lost City trek..the guy had come to us the night before asking if any of us wanted to go and see it. What the hey, when in Colombia....We made our way down a tiny path towards a makeshift tent shrouded in the jungle. A black bag covered a couple of benches stacked with unmarked dirty bottles of chemicals. We all sat, watched and listened as the guy set about preparing the concoction that would make the coca paste while he explained how the process unravelled from high up here in the mountains to the factories in Santa Marta and onwads to the rest of the world. 80% of the worlds coke supply comes from Colombia but all to the detriment of the countries population; the farmers who are forced to cultivate the coca plant for this purpose for pittance and the people caught up in Colombias long and bloody drug wars. It was interesting to see though....

After this unusual morning activity, it was back to base camp for some brekkie and to start our days hiking. The weather was good to start. The walk was hard and easy in equal measure really. There were uphill, rocky and slippy parts as well as downhill lovely moments and of course the obligatory river crossings. A couple of hours in and we encountered the native Kogi Indian tribe that live in these parts. At one point to one side you could just see their tiny hamlet of mud huts with straw roofs and two staffs on top representing the two highest mountains of the Sierra Nevada. It really was a beautiful sight.

Then a few curious little girls came rambling down to us. Such unbelievably gorgeous children.

They were delighted when one of the guys from our group gave them a few sweets and they went tottering back to their none too pleased looking parents.

We rambled past some communtity members all smiles and ola´s and they kind of looked at us with a mixture of suspicion or complete disinterest. We did get a few responses. This place is basically their rightful turf and it really is through their openness and kindness that tours are allowed pass through here at all. One small man authoritatively allowed us to pass through a sort of symbolic rite of passage doorway in the shape of a wooden frame...

The walk continued in much the same way apart from when the heavens opened and I went flying on a large slippery rock when climbing down a kind of waterfall. Quite early on in the day though, we happily reached our second camp. Soaked and freezing we enjoyed yet another hearty and delicious meal proudly prepared by one of the guides - Juan Carlos. The guides we had were amazing by the way. Juan Carlos was the older of the two main ones and Ender the younger. There was also a small entourage of other helpers like Jesus and Mariano from the tribe... who do all the back breaking work of carting everything up the mountain for us...along with some mules of course.
We spent the rest of Day 2 chatting, playing cards and apreciating warmth and dryness...

Day 3

Today we did a spot of walking before getting to a river crossing with a difference: there was a rope a few meters above with a cage attached to it! This was to ferry us over the powerful current of the river beneath. It was a welcome and dry way of getting from edge to edge.

After more walking, it was the second river of the day. Now this one was a whole different ball game. The thing was ferocious. Really a cage ferry would have come in handy here. I watched as a few people struggled their way across. There was a rope tied to trees on either side which we had to hold onto to pull ourselves through the current. Everyone bar some hard core, legs of steel, blokes had to be helped across by at least two guides...Not knowing what to expect it was my turn. Thank god we didnt have to carry our bags on this one as this would have been a disaster waiting to happen. In I went; the first step or two was ok until I felt the force of the water on my legs and thought they were going to snap in two! It was so hard to bring a foot forward and at smack bang on the middle of it my legs gave way. I was hanging on to the rope with just my hands and the rapids almost completely dragged me away. At one point one of my hands was even forced from the grip....Juan Carlos and Ender both had to struggle to help me inch my hands along the rope to safety. It was TERRIFYING!! I was shaking when I got to solid ground. It didnt matter what kind of terrain we had to master after that, anything was better than that horrible river.

We got to camp quite early again today which was great. We had a card playing tournament for the rest of the evening. I should mention that those Spanish playing cards we got in Bogota came in handy as the Spanish contingent were ecstatic that we had them! In the evening Ender and JC came and sat down to give us a kind of presentation on the Lost City....They told us all manner of intriguing things about the Teyuna tribe and their current day indigenous descendants, their traditions and how they live. The Shaman is basically the head of the tribe and the person through which all communication with the outside world is done. We since learnt that the small man who let us through the gate was the Shaman. The Shaman is the only one who can have two wives. And from his brood, one of his sons is chosen at around the age of 8 to be the next future Shaman. When he is picked the boy is taken to an isolated location somewhere in the mountains where he has to do a sort of solitary confinement stint. He cant be visited by anyone else except his father who teaches him everything there is to know about being the upcoming spiritual leader and mentor of an ancient tribal people. When he is 18 he can go back to the community and pick a couple of wives for himself. Fascinating stuff.

The storytelling continued into the night and was great fun.

Day 4

I had heard from a passing group the day before that there was another treacherous river crossing to expect on this leg. No end to this to river crossing saga I tell you. So this was preoccupying my mind even though today would be the day that we would actually reach the Lost City! We all had some ailment or other at this stage of the game. Xav had giant swollen feet and ankles and basically all of us were more or less torn to shreds by bites. The worst thing for me was the nasty blisters and cuts I had cultivated on my right foot. So all in all it was a tad hard to get moving properly this morning. But of course onward and upwards we went and auto pilot kicked in. Then we reached the damn river. This one was just as difficult as the last one but somehow I managed to keep my feet grounded. I got across with a little less trauma than the last...but I do vaguely remember almost crying! Either way I knew we were going to have to cross it again on the way back down as well as conquer the other one that same day.

Todays hike involved getting to the Lost City, exploring it and then covering the distance of the morning and the previous days hike. So after a bit more climbing, walking, slipping, falling, crawling ...the usual....came the steps. Now there´s about a thousand of these and every one of them wet and slippery and piled unevenly on top of one another... so this was a great barrell of laughs getting up these. But alas all was worth it, on reaching the top, the stunning apparition of the more than 2ooo year old site unfolds. The ruins are less extreme and dramatic and more mysteriously and subtly beautiful. The fact that they are almost completely hidden amidst the wild encroaching nature makes it so captivating to see. That and the fact of the pure tranquility.... there are no hordes of tourists swarming the place. We were the only visitors here and had the place more or less to ourselves. The ruins comprise of a series of large circular stone remains all on different levels. It was on these that the houses of the community were located. It was a place reserved only for the tribal elders and those people associated with them, their families, medicine people, that sort of thing....

The views of the surrounding mountain wilderness were just superb, and the sun sort of came out for one of the very few times on the entire trek which was a bonus.

Climbing up the terraces, we spotted some Colombian military men hanging around at the top. We made our way towards them to have a bit of a chat. They were extremely friendly and delighted with the company. When they told us how they are stationed here for 3 months at a time with basically sod-all to do we understood why! We had great fun hanging around, trying on their gear and the likes. One of them even tried to sell his cap off for a few extra quid aswell. Our Australian friend James took him up on the offer too which worked out well for all...

We did a bit more exploration and in a hut where some anthropologists used to work we sat down for some more fascinating info from Juan Carlos. The guy could basically be left on play for hours with all the knowlegde he possesses about this place.

It was a beautiful time we spent up here in the Lost City....kind of surreal to think we´d actually made it.

On the way back, it soon became river time again. The dread. But as there had been just a few morning hours of no rain (the longest time ever so far) both rivers had magically become what seemed to be a good bit lower. I even managed to cross all by myself this time and didnt need Ender to drag me any length of the rope! I felt indestructible...We were lucky really because just as we were crossing, the torrential downpours began again so we very narrowly avoided two very angry swelled up rivers. We trekked on happily and relieved in the lashings of rain through the beautiful lush green desolation....truly splendid.

Day 5

Up and trekking at 6am. Today the sun came out and for the first time we saw the Sierra Nevada under clear blue skies. The mules would be taking all our backpacks down today so we had the added luxury of having to carry nothing but our cameras. Such a joy. After a mid morning watermelon stop....every body just sort of tricked off back down the trail at their own pace. We could really enjoy the gorgeous sun drenched surroundings of the part of the track that we hadnt seen in the darkness of the first day...even if it did become a sludgy mudbath in places.

Some time around midday we caught glimpse of the paved road and made our way back to the starting village....It was really a wierd mix of relief, happiness, sadness it was over and shock that we´d actually made it. Everyone arrived at different times within about a two hour period....until, when we thought everyone was down, we realised we were a man down. Hugh, the Irish guy had been ahead of some of us, so we knew he should have been there... Ender started to slightly panic. We waited a while but no sign. So Ender and a couple of guides started back into the wilderness to try find him. We all sat, a bit worried, waiting, until about 6 pm.... No Hugh. Ender returned and told us that at this point they were getting the military on the case. Well, at least they had something to do now! At this point it would be getting dark soon and they told us we would have to go back without him. Half way through the bumpy truck journey down and a thunder storm broke out.... So now we really felt for Hugh..stuck somewhere in the darkness of the mountains with nothing but rain, thunder and lightening for company. .....

Hugh finally turned up at the hostel the next day at about 4 pm! He had taken a wrong turn somewhere near the path towards the village of all places. He had gone all Bear Grylls and found a banana to eat and an abandoned hut with a hammock to sleep in.... I dont think he drank his own wee though...

All in all, I have to say this expedition really was a brilliant adventure- one of the best things I have ever done. ´Lost´on so many levels....