Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Gorgeous Guatape

March 16th, 2015

I decided to do a daytrip outside of Medellin and by chance my Saturday night partners in crime Carolina and Vanesa were planning to go as well.  We caught Medellin’s lovely Metro to the north bus station where we jumped on a bus for the hour and a half to two hour journey.  All I knew about Guatape was there that there was a massive chunk of rock that was originally formed by volcanic activity but now you could climb up to the top of it for a fantastic view of the lovely countryside of low lying hills with lakes and islands.  Sounds good to me.

In the bus:


The first view of El Penol from the bus:

The bus dropped us off near the foot of the rock, known as el Penol, and we took a rickshaw to the actual base of it (not surprisingly I always think of India when I see a tuk tuk now).  The monolithic rock was impressive indeed, rising up 200 meters it stuck out like a big sore thumb.  We bought our tickets and began the ascent of 659 stairs to the top, in fact to the very top it was 740 steps.  I was quite impressed with the staircase and kept thinking of the poor bastards who had to carry all the concrete and other necessary building material.  There wasn’t just one set of stairs but one for going up and another for descending…not sure why, perhaps they have some very busy days but it was overkill on the day we were there.

In the tuk tuk:

On the approach...note the winding staircase on the right of the rock:

Hey, there are Atletico Nacional supporters here too!

This pimped out tuk tuk was just sitting in the parking lot.

The back side:

The ladies beginning the ascent:

Look at the plants eking out a life on this near vertical rock:

On my way up:

At step 250...and already Carolina's giving me some grief with an obscene gesture:

We're getting higher:

Stair selfie:

I call this one "The Three Virgins":

What a gorgeous area:

The view got better and better, the higher up we went.  At the top there was a little restaurant, and of course the mandatory gift shop.  We snapped many pics and hung out for a while before climbing down.  Just the day before I had been watching some videos of an American named Alex Honnold who is surely the best free climber in the world.  He climbs massive stone faces in places like El Capitan in the States and does it with just climbing shoes and a bag of chalk, no ropes or security equipment like a parachute, so if he messes up and falls, he dies.  I kept wondering if he would be able to free climb this rock.  The first time it was climbed was back in 1954.

The lovely views:


Even Flat Stanley enjoyed them:

Kind of a strange structure at the top.  We climbed up the spiral staircase on the left and the gift shop was on the last floor before the rooftop:


Looking down at the parking lot:


At the very, very top:


Carolina happy that it's all downhill from here:

The ladies going down...er, um, I mean descending:

The stairs we conquered:

Back in the parking lot we grabbed a taxi into the quaint little town of Guatape.  The word that best describes this village is colour.  The buildings were painted in a rainbow of colours.  Many had little pictures of sheep or people running along the bottom third of the wall.  It was just a happy place to be.  I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

Entering the village...I waited for this old man on a bike to pass by for more effect:

A colourful park:

Vanesa posing in the park:

How much is that doggie in the window?

What a colourful place.

Even the bicycles were colourful!

Hmm...I dream of sheep.

This one is inspired by my niece Emma...she loves to pose next to a painting or statue and mimic them...this was my best attempt.

I liked this painting,even though it had no relevance to Guatape:

Walking around in the town square:

Afterwards we sat down in the nice town square for a drink.  It was a nice way to finish the afternoon before heading back to Medellin.

We ran into some traffic coming back into the city, caused by some protest.  I thought this cyclist was crazy holding on to the back of this bus for a free ride...but wait...

This was the crazy guy.  Note the speedometer display at the top right...we're going 60 km/hr!

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Football Frenzy Colombian Style

March 15th, 2015

An activity offered by the hostel was to attend a local football match (yes my North American friends, I mean soccer but after enough time abroad, I call it football now, as it rightly should be).  Fortunately the Sunday that I was in Medellin the two local teams in Colombia’s top league were playing each other.  One team is known as Medellin Indepente (DIM) and the other is Atletico Nacional.  Both teams share the use of the same stadium which seats 45,000 fans.  On this day however Atletico was the home team and I later learned just how much that meant.  DIM’s uniforms are red while Atletico sport the green and white colours of the region, Antioquia, so it was not recommended to wear a red shirt of any kind.  Atletico has the dubious honour of having been majorly supported by Pablo Escobar at the height of his criminal career and they won South America’s most prestigious tournament, the Copa Libertadores.

Although the match didn’t start until 5 pm a mini-van picked a few of us up from the hostel at 2 pm and then we did a circuitous route through the city stopping at other hostels until we had a couple of vans full of gringos.  We stopped at a convenience store with a few tables out front and next door was a small restaurant selling fried chicken, a hot commodity in Colombia.  We quickly gathered that this was where we were having our “tailgate” party.  Everyone purchased some beer in the store and we just lingered outside having our drinks.  I sat at one of the little tables as it was in the shade from the sun which had just poked out for the first time in a few days and I figured I was probably going to get plenty of rays at the stadium.  However this meant that I had to sit down with a couple of old men, the local drunks.  They were harmless and in the end quite entertaining.  One guy, Hernan, was a fanatical Medellin Indepente supporter, showing me pictures on his cellphone of the DIM paraphernalia adorning his walls at home and he kept mumbling “Med-eh-jean…Med-eh-jean”.

The tailgate party:


It was walking distance from the store to the stadium and security was fairly tight in the neighbourhood with guardrails blocking off certain streets and groups of policemen about.  I wasn’t too impressed with our guide as he led the way but didn’t ensure that everyone was together.  Two women, an Aussie and a Brit, were slow finishing their beer and didn’t seem to care that they were being left behind but it caused some consternation for a few of us (there are some considerate men out there!).  As we neared the gate I realized that the other tourists had proper game tickets but I was only in possession of a voucher from the hostel.  I raced ahead to try and locate the guide and luckily I was able to yell at him even though he had already passed through the gate and he came back to give me my ticket.  Whew.

Once in the stadium grounds we joined another line for a security check.  The line wasn’t super long but for some reason our group of gringos was called up to the front.  We didn’t actually feel too comfortable with this.  We were probably only 5-10 minutes from getting in anyways, why did we need to cut in front of the patiently waiting locals?  A few of us tried to smile, shrug our shoulders and give our apologies to them in our broken Spanglish.

The enemy bus arrives:


Inside the stadium I headed to the bathroom and proceeded to lose the other backpackers.  I figured I’d catch up with them, or some of them, at our seats.  I started to walk along the inside thoroughfare towards my section but then ran into a wall barring further access.  I backtracked the other way and ran into the same issue so I asked one of the stewards and they explained to me that it was open seating, there were no assigned seats, except I was stuck in the end zone part of the field, the cheap seats, which turned out to be the most enthusiastic part of the stadium (that and the other end zone).  I walked out to the bleachers and was easily able to spot the other tourists and proceeded to go and sit with them.  Our view was pretty good for being behind the goal, off to one side.

The pitch:

The line-up to get in...kinda glad we got there early, even if it meant the beer buzz was wearing off...


There was still an hour to kill before the game started so I walked up the stairs to the top of the stadium.  It was lined with men in their twenties, most of whom were wearing the green and white striped jersey of Atletico Nacional.  The smell of marijuana wafted around as the guys peered over the back of the bleachers to the people lining up to get in and those walking around the grounds.  Occasionally some whistling and jeering broke out as the occasional supporter of DIM was found out and was quickly escorted to the exit while being pelted by bags of water or plastic bottles.  In Canada it’s totally normal to have someone supporting the visiting team show up in their jersey and sit wherever they want.  With football in Europe they have a section dedicated to the away team supporters but it seems that here they are not even allowed in the stadium…crazy.  As the game progressed the occasional ruckus broke out as another DIM supported would be identified and the water bottles would fly and even a few punches thrown…no wonder they don’t sell alcohol at these events!

Not a great pic, but behind that tree is the truck with the 20 some supporters for DIM being shown the exit:

I got a kick out of the referees' warm-up:

The pre-game atmosphere:


Just before the game began we noticed a number of guys walk out towards the back of the nearby goal and then spread themselves along the end zone line.  They were holding what looked like old school fire extinguishers but they definitely didn’t look like emergency personnel and many of them were shirtless and all of them were wearing blue jeans.  A few minutes later the home team emerged onto the field and a sea of green and white smoke shot up…ah, that’s what was in those canisters.  I think that they were just lucky fans who were picked to go out onto the field and shoot up the smoke as they all looked pretty excited afterwards.

The opening smoke:

Soakin' it up:

And the game begins:

An early free kick for the home team...if you look closely the guy is just in mid swing:

The first goal celebration:


The first half was pretty entertaining with the home team scoring just five minutes into the game with a lovely header.  DIM evened it up close to half time with a penalty awarded by the referee.  It was way down at the other end of the field so I didn’t really see what happened.  

The penalty kick for the bad guys:


In the second half Atletico scored to lead 2-1 and the stadium went nuts.  Everyone was jumping around, dancing, clapping and hugging each other.  I could feel the concrete stadium bounce up and down and couldn’t help but wonder about the structural integrity of the structure, but that didn’t stop me from joining in the celebrations.  Later on Atletico sealed the deal with another goal and won the game 3-1 which left the crowd in a euphoric state.  We gringos were much happier to be surrounded by these elated fans while leaving the game than a bunch of upset and pissed off ones.

The third goal celebrations:

Game Over!


Not too surprisingly we returned to the same convenience store for another beer and some post game chat before hopping back in the vans to head back to our respective hostels.  What a game...but maybe even the bigger aspect was what an atmosphere!

Monday, March 23, 2015

Touring Medellin

March 12th-14th, 2015

I flew from Santa Marta to Medellin (pronounced “Med-eh-jean” by locals) on VivaColombia airlines, Colombia’s version of RyanAir, a no frills discount airline that sucks you in with their initial low price but banks on swindling some money out of you along the way.  Still I had read and heard of enough okay stories about VivaColombia to take a chance with them.  You are only allowed a carry-on of 6 kilograms and of a certain dimension otherwise you pay a penalty.  When you book your ticket online you can pay another 20,000 pesos ($8 US) to either have a second carry-on of 12 kg or a check-in bag of 20 kg.  I decided not to gamble, not knowing if my bag was of the correct dimensions although I was pretty sure weight wasn’t a factor.  You also have to print out your own boarding pass and bring it or face a 25,000 peso ($10) fee at the airport.  Once I completed purchasing the ticket online I received a confirmation email and the following day another email that was my ticket.  There were no further instructions so I figured that this was what I needed to print and bring to the airport.  Just as luck would have it, the hostel’s printer was on the fritz so I had to walk to the nearby shopping mall and have it printed for about $1.50 (a lot for only 2 pages!).  Anyways, I show up to the airport and realize a couple of things.  First off, the others in the line-up seemed to have pieces of paper with bar codes on it.  Dammit Dave…you didn’t print off the right thing.  I must have had to log back in on the website to get my boarding pass, even though as I said there were no instructions stating that.  Secondly, my check-in bag was only 8 kg and easily fit into the carry-on dimension checker thingy.  In addition, there is no assigned seating with this airline but they board in four groups.  However for some odd reason, those who have paid for the extra carry-on bag are Group #1, even ahead of old people and those with infants!  And here I was, relegated to Group #4.  Oh well, live and learn.  I begrudgingly forked out my 25,000 pesos and resigned myself to have a bad seat but I actually lucked out and got a window seat and my bag showed up unscathed at the other end so it all worked out.

Boarding the plane:

I hopped on the shuttle bus, followed by a short walk to the metro station and finally a taxi to my hostel, the Happy Buddha Boutique Hostel.  It seemed like a nice place, rather chic looking.  I wasn’t however super pleased with my room as it had three bunk beds crammed fairly close together with some lockers against the wall at the foot of the bed.  I was on the top bunk by a small window out to the street but there was no ceiling fan and the stand-alone fan by the door was partially blocked by the lockers and I felt no relief from it.  The first night I cooked, and I don’t mean I prepared my food in the kitchen.  One nice touch though was that they had an electrical outlet inside every locker so you could charge your electronics without fear of losing them, or the cable like had happened to me in Palomino.  I changed rooms the following day to a larger 5 bunk bed room on the top of the three floors and it had cross ventilation that made all the difference.  Plus I ended up meeting some great people in my new room…but more on that later.

Talking with some other backpackers, it seemed like the logical activity to begin with in this large city of 3 million nestled in a valley was to go on a “free” walking tour in the downtown area.  Of course nothing in life is free.  At the end of the tour the guide expects tips and outlines at the beginning what is considered a standard tip, and what is a great tip.  I didn’t mind as of course these guys need to make money somehow and it ensures that they will try their best and not just go through the motions.

Our guide was Hernan, in his forties and he used to be a professor of microbiology or something like that, so obviously a smart dude.  I was very impressed that he remembered everyone’s names (20 people) just from the initial sign-in.  So naturally he was a wealth of information and a lot of the tour was not just a “Well this building was built in 1853 and the architect was…”  It was more a history of the local people, the Paisas, and the history of this city’s colourful and somewhat checkered past.  As we walked through the downtown core I couldn’t help but think about how much our group stood out as gringos.  First off we were mostly Caucasian but almost as indicative was that 90% of the tourists, including yours truly, were wearing shorts on this cloudy, yet still slightly hot and humid day.  None of the locals were bearing their legs.  The tour stretched to four hours with a short break in the middle but it was getting dark when we finished and I think everyone was feeling it in their legs, not so much from walking a lot but from the almost continuous standing.  Still, it was a great way to get introduced to the city.

This is the center square in the city with the pillars of lights...they kinda looked like light sabers in the day time.

This is a library beside the square.  Part of Medellin's strategy to combat the violence of the 80s and early 90s was to build many libraries and other cultural buildings all around the city, including the poor areas.

Hernan starting his spiel:

A statue near some government buildings that depicts the history of the Paisa people:

That's the statue on the left:

An old locomotive by what used to be the train station:

This church, I don't remember the name, doubles as a place where "lonely men" as Hernan put it go to find some female companionship.  So they pick up a prostitute, go to a nearby hotel for some fun and then return for a little confession.  Note the two ladies of the night at the left side of the entrance.

Meanwhile this was happening just 20 meters away, to the right of where I took the last photo.  See the gerbil just to the left of the center of the photo.  Well the man is asking to place bets on which little "bowl house" his little feller will run into.  People were placing 100 peso coins (5 cents) on one of the 20 bowls and then would win 5 times their money and the guy would take the rest.  It was entertaining to watch that's for sure and a 6-7 year old girl won!

Hernan is explaining to us that the cathedral looking building on the left, the Rafael Uribe Uribe Palace of Culture, was designed by a Belgian architect.  In 1937 the government abandoned funding the construction and it was left half finished for many years.  Eventually three Columbian architects were contracted to finish it and that's the plain wall we see in the middle...nice job guys.

The next four photos are statues by Fernando Botero,a famous sculptor from Medellin.  His style was to have large, disproportionate figures.

With bronze statues, if you rub or touch them enough they surface turns to a bronzish colour...if you look closely, you'll see where ever touches this poor fellow...

This doesn't look like much but it's very symbolic.  It was "The Bird", another statue by Botero but it was blown up in 1995 and the shrapnel killed 30 people.  It was unknown at the time who planted the bomb...but their were many suspects:  the Cali Cartel, paramilitary groups or guerrillas.  The statue has been left as a reminder of the Colombia's tumultuous past.

However next to it, a new bird statue was donated by Botero:

The next morning I inquired at the front desk of the hostel about taking the Pablo Escobar tour.  I had heard that there were two companies that offered the tour and on one of them you actually met Pablo’s brother, Roberto, who wrote a book that I read a few years ago called “An Accountant’s Story”.  However, the other tour run by a company called Paisa Road received great reviews from some other backpackers so I opted for that one.  Unfortunately the tour only ran once a day, starting at 9:30 am and it happened to be 9:40.  Oh well, I’ll try tomorrow.  So I sat down for breakfast but then the young woman at the desk, Yunari, told me that the tour company had just shown up and that I could join if I wanted to.  I snapped up at the chance, wolfed down my food, quickly brushed my teeth and changed my clothes and was off.

The tour mostly consisted of driving around in a big mini-van (a bit of an oxymoron there) while the guide Paola, a local 28 year old woman, talked about the history of Pablo, the drug cartel, and how it all affected the local population.  I liked that she didn’t sugar coat anything.  Pablo was considered to be the “Robin Hood” of the city as he supported football teams and built some football pitches, schools and housing for the poor areas but he was still one super nasty bad ass dude.  He was absolutely ruthless in his business, even with those who worked for him.  This was not a guy you wanted to cross.  At the height of his criminal activity he was exporting 70-80 tons of cocaine into the US each month and the cartel was making $60 million every day!  He was estimated to be worth about $30 billion which is almost double that in today’s value.  How did he get away with it for so long?  Well he exercised “plata o plomo” which roughly means accept money or receive bullets, a pretty effective strategy.

At the start of the tour we stopped at a seemingly non-descript side street with a number of ten to twelve storey red brick apartment buildings but then there was an oddball, an eight or nine storey white coloured building that looked to be in somewhat of a state of disrepair.  It used to be Pablo’s and was known as the Monaco building, a residence in which he and some of his family lived at from time to time and supposedly one floor was just for the kids, another just for parties.  At the time there were no other buildings of this size nearby, solely regular sized single storey homes.  Paola told us that Pablo had tried to get in to the country club as at the time he was starting to enter into the political ring, just for the benefit of receiving diplomatic immunity to avoid any chances of extradition.  Even though he was rubbing shoulders with many of the city’s elite, they denied him membership due to his likely shady activities.  So what did he do?  He built this big white building in plain sight of the club so the members would have to look at it all the time.  What a guy.

The Monaco building:

Paola our tour guide:

Medellin soon became the battleground between Pablo’s cartel, the police, some paramilitary groups and eventually a death squad known as “Los Pepes” which was from a Spanish acronym for “people persecuted by Pablo Escobar”.  The Pepes were ruthless and used the same tactics as Pablo did and they whittled away at his infrastructure.  Pablo crossed a few major lines and essentially declared war on Colombia itself.  The first was the attack on the Colombian Supreme Court and killed 11 of 25 of the Supreme Court Judges and destroyed all legislation about extradition.  And the second was the bombing of an Avianca flight that killed over 100 innocent civilians and Pablo’s intended target didn’t even turn out to be on the plane!

Medellin became the most dangerous city in the world with bombings occurring daily and hit men, well in Pablo’s case more like hit boys (as he recruited poor teenagers from the slums), taking out targets regularly.  Assassinations often occurred by two men on a motorbike, the one in the front driving while the other one used his machine gun to splatter bullets at their target.  Amazingly still today there is a law in Medellin that does not allow two men to ride on a motorcycle together.  I started to keep an eye out after I heard this fact and sure enough, I saw a man and a woman, or two women but never two men on a two-wheeler.  Crazy.

Near the end of the tour we entered a middle class neighbourhood and eventually stopped in front of a plain looking abode which shared walls with the adjacent houses although they were of different design.  This was the place where Pablo was located by the use of, at that time, high tech equipment provided by the United States to triangulate his position based on his cell phone signal.  He and his bodyguard Limon attempted to flee on the roof out the back but were both gunned down and killed.  There is some question as to whether Pablo put the final, deadly bullet in his own head but the authorities at the time didn’t care, the head of the snake had been severed.

The front of the house where Pablo was found.  They've added another storey since.  Poor people who live here...every day gringos like me come and gawk at their house.

The back, where Pablo and Limon tried to flee.  Limon fell down to the ground but Pablo died on the sloped roof.

Note the similarities (apart from paint colour) from the previous picture and the first one on this poster.

To finish the tour we visited the cemetery where he is buried along with some of his family and closest friends.  While in my hostel I had heard numerous male backpackers state that they planned on visiting the grave and doing a line of coke off of his headstone.  While I was there I couldn’t help but wonder how much cocaine residue was in that area.

The view of the city from the graveyard:

This is what all of the other tombstones look like in the cemetery:

Then there's Pablo and his entourage.  His tombstone is on the left.

Pablo's gravestone:

That evening was Saturday night and with Medellin being renowned for a wild nightlife I figured that I should hit the town at least once while I was here but going to the clubs by yourself in a strange city isn’t always that appealing.  Luckily a couple of lovely ladies from my dorm room invited me along with them.  Carolina and Vanesa both hail from Buenos Aires and another woman they had met, Michelle, also came along.  Sweet, I had an entourage of Latin women…and I hadn’t even hit the bars yet!  We joined up with a couple of other guys from the hostel and it was one of their ideas to start at a place called “The Mansion”.  It was a dark club with a guy spinning some loud techno or house music (it’s all the same to me) with some psychedelic images projected behind him (think early computer screen savers).  We had had to pay a cover to enter but that included a drink so we sucked those back and decided to see what else the area known as Parque Lleras in the Poblado neighbourhood had to offer.  In the end we drank and danced at three more clubs/bars and wandered back home after 5 am.  It was starting to get light out and the birds were beginning to chirp…so it was definitely time for bed but it was definitely a fun night.

From left to right: Vanesa, Carolina, me and Michelle

We were striking a pose that the video on the big TV screen had just done...honestly!

Gracias las mujeres bonitas!