Unless you’ve just arrived on earth from Venus (and even then probably) you’re aware of the disruption Covid-19 is causing. I have very little to complain about; to date the only trouble the virus has caused me is in having to come home early from my South America trip. I got as far as Colombia and had to turn for home. Placed alongside the far more grave issues many people around the world are facing, a truncated holiday is trivial.

It’s still a shame though, as I was well prepared and looking forward to finally hitting South America after all these years. My plan was to spend 3-4 weeks seeing the main towns and valleys of central Colombia then fly to Leticia in the Amazon region (only accessible by boat or plane), spend a week or so there then take the boat up the Amazon river to Iquitos in Peru (also only accessible by boat or plane) and from there fly to Lima or Cuzco in Peru. Then it was to be overland to Bolivia, 4 weeks or so in that magical place, then across the border into Argentina and on into Paraguay. Once I was done with Paraguay I was going to fly back to Colombia or Ecuador and eventually make my way back to Vancouver via Mexico.

What I wanted…

What I got.

I’m hoping one day to publish a series of blog posts covering that exact journey, but for now here’s a quick look at the only bit I’ve managed to date: Colombia.

I liked Colombia a lot. I found the cities and towns for the most part very calm and quiet and tidy. The pace of life was a little more hurried in bigger cities like Bogotá and Medellín, but generally everything was relaxed, quiet and calm. It was easy finding places to stay and eat, and moving from place to place was simple and straightforward and unchallenging. I found Colombians to be very polite and formal in everyday settings. They address each other (and me) as señor or señora, and they take time to ask after each other when they meet; they say thank you in shops and they stand patiently in lines. People were very chatty. Colombian Spanish is quite fluid and fairly easy to understand so I was able to converse with people on the bus and in cafes and in shops. On the whole the infrastructure is excellent; roads are well sealed and maintained, and water and electricity don’t seem to be a problem anywhere. The country felt perfectly safe and organized.

Plaza de la Mariposa, (Butterfly Plaza), Bogotá

Old cobblestone square, Villa de Leyva

But the real star of the country is the scenery. The places I visited and traveled through were stunning, very green and lush, hilly and dramatic with steep ravines and mountain ranges fading into the distance. The eastern ranch country, known as “Los Llanos” and the dense Amazon region are reportedly both quite flat, but the rest of the country is rolling and mountainous – the Andes runs through the place after all.

The beautiful lush valleys of Antioquia, near the town of Marinilla

One of many gorgeous vistas in Santander department; near Barichara

“The garbage you drop on the ground can’t speak, but it says a lot about you” – neighborhood sign along the way near Marinilla.

Lake Sochacota, near the town of Paipa, Boyacá department.

More lush Antioquia countryside. These were beautiful walking roads…

Colombia and Mexico (and Spain)

I found that in a lot of ways Colombia is quite similar to Mexico. I don’t think I’d say that to the Colombians or the Mexicans but for the traveler there’s much that’s familiar, on the surface at least. The planning and layout of the colonial towns is the same because they were developed by the Spanish colonizers. Everyone speaks Spanish. The rhythm of life and the way people interact with each other is similar. Both countries are predominantly Catholic. There’s a love of color and art and tradition that’s palpable, and there’s music everywhere.

But there are differences too. Indigenous culture and tradition is much more woven into daily life in Mexico, whereas Colombia is a little more European. Mexico street life is far more vibrant and varied; there’s very little street food in Colombia, for example, in sharp contrast to the never-ending bounty you find on every corner of all Mexican towns and cities. Colombians are well known for their love of dancing and partying, but overall I find Mexican cafe and bar culture much more interesting, and cozier. The pubs in Mexico are a lot better, but the beer is cheaper in Colombia! The trials and conundrums of travel…

A quiet cuppa in a cozy cafe in San Gil, Santander

The food in Colombia isn’t bad, though nowhere near as complicated or varied as in Mexico. You almost go hungry in Colombia if you’re not a meat eater, but a well prepared hot meal of chicken or beef with potatoes or rice and beans and vegetables is easy to find, cheap and filling. I liked being served small potatoes with my meals instead of French fries. I did miss tortillas though – Colombians don’t eat them with their meals the way Mexicans do. There’s plenty of beer in Colombia, including some very good craft styles they’re making in the larger cities. Colombia’s firewater aguardiente is a poor substitute for tequila.

Lunch in the Saturday market in Villa de Leyva: soup with pork, hominy, onion and corn with a side of steamed potatoes and yuca (cassava).

Watching soccer in a cafe in La Candelaria, Bogotá

Bogotá and Medellin

The capital Bogotá is interesting. It’s a growing and sprawling monster of 7.5 million people, but you can tell from the central historic area, known as La Candelaria, that it used to be much smaller and has grown more recently. Bogotá sits at 2,640 meters (8,660 feet) which makes the climate springlike, with cool mornings and warm, dry afternoons. There are excellent museums (luckily they were all still open when was there) and a fantastic system of extensive bike and pedestrian paths making it very easy and pleasant getting around.

Museo Botero, Bogotá

Groovy murals and pedestrians, Bogotá

More interesting is the city of Medellin. It’s much smaller than Bogotá, weighing in at around 2.4 million inhabitants, but it’s a much more manageable and approachable city, and far more lively and vibrant. It’s much grittier too, with a lot more local color and a distinct party feel. Medellín sits at 1,495 meters (4,900 feet) so it’s hotter and stickier than Bogotá. The streets are noisy and busy until late into the evening. There are a lot people living on the streets in Medellin, a lot of people approach and ask for money and want to chat. I was noticed a lot more in Medellin than in Bogotá, or at least people were more interested in my presence. There were no problems though, I never had the feeling there was anything dangerous or shifty about the place, at least not the areas I wandered through. People were lively and welcoming. Residents of Bogotá were friendly too, but they were much more business-like and matter-of-fact and seemed less interested in my being there.

Northern Medellin from my hotel window

Shopping mall in the old National Palace, Medellin

Walkin’ the streets of Medellin

Like Bogotá, Medellin is easy to get around thanks to an excellent infrastructure of pedestrian and bike paths, but also because of their tram and Metrocable system known collectively as Medellin Metro. The trams run along street level tracks throughout the city. They’re cheap, spotlessly clean and frequent. As the name suggests the Metrocable is actually a gondola lift, like a fancy ski lift running on cables upward to the crowded, informal residential settlements dribbled up and down the steep hills surrounding Medellin. Metrocable is largely considered to be the first urban, cable propelled transit system in South America. Its purpose was to offer the working class and largely poor residents a fast and reliable alternative to the crowded and dangerous unlicensed buses that used to zigzag up and down the hills. A one and a half to two hour journey to the centre of town now takes a little more than fifteen minutes on the gondola.

It’s not designed as a tourist attraction, and some information I read suggests the hillside neighborhoods are unsafe for visitors, but I rode to the top of Line M to the “La Ladera” district and had an excellent several hours wandering the crooked and ludicrously steep streets, talking with the locals and enjoying the views across the city. Like the trams the Metrocable is cheap, clean and reliable.

Riding Line M of the Metrocable – a fantastic, cheap and fun afternoon.

Two local gentlemen who told me about their neighborhood in the clouds.

The steep and treacherous streets and walkways of the La Ladera district.

Las Luces Square, Medellin

Historic Spanish Towns

Colombia has done an outstanding job of preserving its beautiful historic towns, if any of the places I visited are enough to go by. Villa de Leyva, Barichara, Girón and Curití are wonderfully atmospheric and attractive towns and it was a pleasure just wandering through the streets looking at the old houses and pretty churches and squares. Colombia even has a name for some of them, Pueblos Patrimonio de Colombia (“Heritage Towns of Colombia”). The Ministry of Tourism initiated the program in 2010 as a way of preserving their heritage but also of bringing a tourism opportunity.

There are 17 of them in total, and there are rules: if you want your town to be on the list you must have fewer than 150,000 residents, you can’t be the administrative capital of the department, you must agree to keep your town historic and “original”, and you must commit to making tourism your main economic activity.

One of many beautiful cobblestone streets in Barichara.

Normally I’d run for the hills away from anything that promotes tourism as its main focus, but in this case it was well worth it. The towns are so attractive and picturesque, and the vast majority of tourists I saw (and talked to) were Colombians who lived nearby and were out on a day trip to enjoy their heritage.

The large cobbled main square of Villa de Leyva, purportedly the largest square in the world still with its original cobbles.

As in Mexico all the traditional towns are similar in appearance, primarily because the Spanish built them and used consistent architectural styles. Cobbled streets run east-west and north-south from the central plazas. A large church sits at one end and a fountain in the center surrounded by a collection of well-groomed trees and shrubs.

Church and plaza in central Curití, Santander department.

Dusk in the square at Villa de Leyva. March 7 and no Covid-19 worry here.

Villa de Leyva.

Barichara (and below).

Carlos from India

One great thing I did was meet up with Carlos Pereira. I met Carlos in 2006 in India when I was there on a short trip and we spent a few days together in Madhya Pradesh. It was unusual to meet Colombians on the road in places like India so it made an impression on me and we kept in touch. He was 55 at the time (I was 42) and I wrote in my journal how cool it was to meet people in their mid-fifties who are still traveling and how maybe, just maybe, I’d be doing the same “when I got old”. I told him that when we met last month and he told me he always knew I would. I liked that.

Carlos Pereira and me in Girón, Santander

Carlos is now 69 and lives in the city of Bucaramanga, north of Bogotá in the Santander department. He’s retired and still traveling though tends to travel a little closer to home. We spent a couple of days together again, wandering around town, enjoying meals and chatting. We made a day trip to the beautiful colonial town of Girón (on the Pueblos Patrimonio list!), once on its own but now part of the greater Bucaramanga metropolitan area.

Carlos answered my questions about Colombia and we talked about what was then the very beginning of the Covid-19 spread in Colombia. The day we met, March 12, Colombia had reported 20 cases and one death. As I write this today, April 4, there are 1,406 cases and 32 deaths.

Carlos was worried about it when most of his countrymen were only just waking up to what it was. He was worried because he was 69 and normally traveled widely in his city and district, taking the bus and using taxis. I haven’t heard from Carlos now since March 23. I’ve sent texts and emails but so far they’ve gone unanswered. I’ll keep trying.

Bucaramanga, Santander department. Like most cities I visited, the new parts of town are modern and well developed.

Afternoon strollers in Curití.

The times, they are a-changin‘

When I left Vancouver and arrived in Bogotá on February 27 North and South America were largely unbothered by Covid-19. The entire continent of South America had reported only one case, in Brazil. There were no cases in Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Argentina or Paraguay. There was no government of Canada advisory against travel to any of the countries, no one was wearing a mask at any of the airports, everything was normal.

March 16 and no panic yet.

Even the local fowl seems untroubled by Covid-19. This fellow was patrolling the streets of Medellin.

But by March 15 it was obvious Colombia was heading for an emergency as the government started issuing regular advisories instructing people to wash hands and stay out of large groups. Concerts and other events were cancelled. The museums, cinemas and sports facilities all closed. On March 18 Colombia announced it would begin mandatory 14 day quarantine periods for passengers arriving on flights from France, the UK, Spain, Italy, China and Iran. A group of Spaniards was deported a few days later for violating their quarantine order; hotel staff called the police to report the Spanish tourists had left the hotel to wander the streets of Bogotá so they were rounded up and sent home. Four days later Colombia closed its borders to all non citizens, permanent residents or diplomats.

Several days after that I received an email from the Canadian embassy in Bogotá (I’d registered with the Canadians Abroad notification service) telling me that I should strongly consider leaving Colombia, and that if I didn’t I would very quickly find myself unable to do so and would need to prepare to be in the country for at least the next 30 days. I would be responsible to arrange my own transportation, accommodation, food, and medicine and the Canadian government would be unable to offer assistance. It seemed prudent by that point—even to me—that I should leave. When I checked out of my hotel in Medellín to go to the airport the front desk staff asked me if I had the correct form I’d need to present to the next hotel, the one foreigners now needed to secure lodging. “Oh, that’s much better,” he said when I told him I was leaving the country.

A few days later Canada closed its borders to non citizens and residents, and all South American countries closed their borders. All that in the course of a little over three weeks.

Mexico City

Mexico’s borders were still open to arriving international flights – and they still are – so a Mexican friend suggested I get out of Colombia and fly to Mexico City. It was a good idea: I know Mexico City quite well, feel comfortable and in control there and thought it would be an easier place to get back to Canada from when the time came. My initial idea was to spend a couple of weeks in Mexico City then set up shop in a small beach or rural community where I could wait it out. But when I got to Mexico City I got spooked. Not because of the chaos or panic in the streets but because everything was completely normal. No one was wearing a mask. The metro and city buses were all full. People huddled in groups and hugged and kissed and laughed together the way Mexicans always do. Parks and playgrounds were full. Bars, cantinas, restaurants, cafes and shops were all open. Over coffee in a bright cafe the next morning I saw a notice in the newspaper, an announcement from the Mexico federal government telling its citizens that “Covid-19 is not an emergency. There’s no need to cancel large events, activities, work or school. Don’t panic, continue with your usual activities but just be a little more vigilant. Remember: the illness caused by coronavirus is not serious.“

When I read that I called my travel agent and booked a flight home to Vancouver.

Calm – and worrying – words from the government of Mexico on March 20.

I had to wait 4 days for my flight and spent the time wandering the quiet, leafy fairly well-to-do neighbourhoods where the streets are not crowded. I lounged in parks and drank coffee in cafes where the tables sat in open spaces on the sidewalks. It was very pleasant and the air was warm and dry. I took photos and enjoyed the peace and quiet of it. If you know me or have read my blog you’ll know how much I love Mexico City. I love the thickness of it, the endless variety and the understated sophistication of the buildings and streets. I didn’t want to leave but at the same time didn’t feel like I should stay. I worried for Mexico, and I still do. I don’t believe they have the leadership at the federal level they need to get through this. Telling poor people to stay home and not go to work is likely to be largely ineffective in a place like Mexico. Covid-19 is one line item very far down a very long list of things the working poor have to worry about every single day, things like money and healthcare and food and violence and rape and education and a host of other viruses and sickness. I’m worried but I also know how resilient and resourceful Mexicans can be, so here’s hoping it works out for them. And for the Colombians.

One of the many neat little squares in Mexico City. This one is on Calle Río Pánuco, in Cuauhtémoc.

Oh Pomp! A message in Jalapa, Mexico City.

So now I’m in Vancouver on my self-isolation regime. Friends and family have brought me groceries and, luckily, I have plenty to read and there’s plenty I haven’t seen yet on Netflix. I’m fine and so far I don’t know anyone who has Covid-19. I have it better than most, and Canada is doing better than many places so I can’t complain.

The one bright and sunny side to this whole episode is that I still have my South American trip to look forward to one day when all this is over. I’ll be 56 in May. Carlos will be pleased.

Stay tuned!