Popayan day five - day at museums

Stiff beds make unwelcome travel companions.  By this point in the trip I felt there was nothing left to do, and the Hotel La Plazuela was starting to feel less charming by the day.  Not only did the bed feel stiffer than ever, but the early sunrise and stream of traffic noises coming into my second-floor room were affecting my sleep.  I was ready to move on to Bogota, but financially needed to stay in Popayan.  I decided to make the most of the day.

I first went to the Guillermo Leon Valencia museum where I learned about the man who was President from 1962-1966.  A short walk brought me to the Museo Negret.  Edgar Negret is 92 year old sculptor well known in Colombian art circles.  I was told the museum was closed.  I tried my powers of persuasion because I had nothing else to do and after a couple of minutes was handed an invitation and told to return at 7pm in better clothes.  Next was the Museum of Natural History.  There I saw a place that had kept a taxidermist busy for some time.  There were all sorts of collections of animals and rocks.  Colombia counts the second highest number of species in the world after Brazil.  I concluded the day at the Catholic Archdiocese Museum, where more than anything I felt what it was like to see the same art that people saw 200 years ago.  They were the only place that had an admission charge, but waived it since the guide never showed up and I was forced to walk it alone.

At night I put on a shirt and tie and went to the Museo Negret.  There was a recognition that night that the museum was one site of 12 that was part of a national focus on the arts.  I chatted brifely with a couple of people but was mostly ignored.  This musuem was interesting for about 10 minutes.  The crowd was the same sort of artsy crowd you could find in any city of the world.  I left after the presentation and went for some good eats before trying to turn in early and get ready for my early flight to Bogota.

At this point in the trip I felt that a trip to Popayan proper was really only worth one or two days.  In hindsight I would have shortened my trip by a day or spent another day in the capital.

Popayan, day four part two Coconuco

At this point in my trip I was settled, relaxed, and ready for more.  Having first experienced hot springs in Mexico last December, I was eager to try them in Colombia.  Jose and Elsa had mentioned this as a possibility before so we decided to take the trip from Silvia back through Popayan to Coconuco.  There are two types of hot springs locations there, one is Aguas Herviendo which is 'boiling water' and the other is Agua Tibia, where we decided to go.  Jose and I enjoyed the two springs there.  One was about 5.5 deep and lukewarm.  It was transparent so that you could go underwater, see across to the other end, and not feel salt or chlorine.  The other spring was a brownish tinged water, warmer and shallower.  Both were enjoyable in their own way.

Coconuco is 2850 meters above sea level and near Purace National park.  Located in the central Andean range, it's a small town the relies heavily on the tourism to the two hot springs.  The views from the springs are as nice as the water.

I find with hot springs that the benefits are temporary.  It feels so relaxing to be in this special water but I've found that the buzz wears off within hours.  Nevertheless any day that I could be relaxing in a hot spring would be better than most.  I highly recommend Aguatibia and will definitely go back if I ever return.

Popayán day four, part one Silvia

My wonderful hosts Jose and Elsa were lifelong residents of this area but oddly had not been to many of its places, or if they had it been limited and long ago.  Today was going to be even better than the trip around Purace because I was with friends that were good conversationalists.  Also, they have a nice car and most of the roads we were going to drive on were paved.

About an hour's drive from Popayan is a city of 35,000 called Silvia.  When I remarked that on the roads  my hosts told me that the famous drug kingpin Pablo Escobar had invested in the area because he and henchman liked to visit the more temperate Silvia on the weekends.  Their city of Cali can be very hot and is only about an 90 minutes away.  In the years that had passed their houses became unidentifiable but the roads that Escbar funded remain a legacy. 

Silvia also has an indigenous influence.  One of the better-known groups in the area are called the Guambianos.  When we arrived to Silvia there was a parade that was about to start.  We watched the parade, then climbed up to see a small church, and then visited the city square.  The parade seemed to be part celebration of themselves and part protest and the Colombian government.  Guambianos wear traditional vestments of black and blue.  They do not seem to be approachable, and are used to being looked at by foreign tourists and Colombians alike.

Here's a look at the city from the hilltop church.

One way to get a picture with a Guambiano is to sit next to one in a nonchalant way.

In this one we pressed our luck.  We sat by a group of young girls.  A couple got cold feet
during the process while the rest stayed and had a laugh with us.

I remember the car ride and tour of Silvia as the part of the trip as when I started realizing the benefits
of being on vacation.  Occasionally I read about how Americans have less vacation than Europeans or our puritanical streak causes us to forgo vacation or work while we're taking them.  I've improved at taking them over recent years.  The world is not going to end because I'm not at my desk.  It's best just to leave my impatience and other flaws back home and enjoy the ride.

Popayan day three, part one, Andean condors

Most of what the Hotel La Plazuela gives its visitors in colonial charm it takes back in its colonial installations, namely its beds.  I felt the 6:30 am wake up would be challenging.  Instead it was a gift for two reasons.  One, to leave the stiff bed, and more importantly to start this exciting day.  Cristian was waiting for me on Calle 5.  As we set out on the curvy roads and started to talk I realized conversation would become intermittent as nearly everything I said or asked about was followed with a 'Sí Señor' by my guide.

Our day was to be spent at a high-altitude national park in the Andes called Puracé.  Our first stop was to see the Andean Condors.  They had once been plentiful in this park but nearly died out due to hunting.  Eleven condors were raised in the San Diego Zoo and then released in this area in Puracé a few years ago.  Only three are thought to be alive or in the area now.  As we climbed up towards 10,000 feet we met up with an indigenous guide named Noel.  He was carrying a pungent bucket with a cow liver.  The three of us hiked as high as we could go on a ridge and Noel placed the organ on a boulder jutting out into the valley.  We then retreated to a vantage point where we could watch the show.  I was told to be patient.  For awhile nothing happened so I decided to walk around in this ecosystem called páramo, a type of alpine tundra.  

As the wind picked up the smell carried and a few bird species lower on the food chain circled about and tried to land on the boulder.  Some could and started to peck away and gobble up the liver.  This continued off and on for around 40 minutes.  Every question or comment about the condors was met with a form of  "Be patient".  I was at ease with whatever outcome because I was in a special place soaking up as much of the beautiful mountain views as I could.  Finally Noel spotted the condors across the valley.  Even if they weren't hungry they would still come to the boulder to assert dominance over the other birds.  A good while later the three flew over, hovering and sizing up the wind gusts and air currents.  Only the male landed and for a few minutes spent time eating about jostling with the other birds.  Some flew away with bits and pieces and a little fell off the boulder.  Within minute the whole show was over and we were heading down to the path to find the truck.

I was tickled by what I saw.  To see animal behavior in such a spectacular setting is something I can't recall having done before.  I felt content already that the long trip was already worth it, and whatever happened the rest of the week was a bonus.  It set me up nicely for what was to come in Puracé and Popayan.

 

Popayan, day two

Monday was the day that setup the rest of the trip.  Often a traveler arrives to their destination tired, does a quick whirlwind tour, sleeps soundly for 10 to 12 hours, and quickly becomes restless.  I fought the inclination to be restless and take things as they came.  I was awakened at 7am by the telephone.  It was my hostess Elsa setting up a time to pick me up and start showing me around. 

We saw the town between some errands she had to run.  We took in the center of town again, and moved on to the Hotel Dann Monasterio (see below) and the Law School.  Popayan experienced a strong earthquake in 1983 and you can still see some of its effects.  There is a cracked wall or window here or there, or more likely yet another parking area.  Many of the beautiful homes were not rebuilt and became parking lots. 

After a delicious lunch we went to walk around a modern mall whose land was until recently owned by the Catholic Church.  Elsa made a couple of references during the day of how the Catholic Church holds much money, land, and power in Popayan.  Finally we stopped by their house on the tony north side to visit with Jose again and see some unimproved land he bought in the area.

Most importantly in the morning after much effort on Elsa's part we connected with a tour guide who would be able to take me on a climb of Volcan (Volcano) Purace or a trip through the Purace National Park with various sights and experiences.  Thankfully I opted for the latter.  Cristian, my indigenous guide, would be picking me up at the Hotel La Plazuela at 7am the next morning.

Popayan, day one, part two

Here's a description of the places I visited on my first day in Popayan.  The first was called the Museo Guillermo Valencia.  The museum was the former Spanish-style residence of poet and translator Guillermo Valencia.  He married into a well-to-do family which owned the house.  It was a large two story house with about 20 or so rooms and a courthouse in the middle.  Valencia also ran for president twice and lost.  His son realized his father's ambitions (a la Kennedy) and was president from 1962 to 1966.
The Pueblito Payanesa (or Patojo) is a small scale open air version of a typical small town in the Popayan area.  I saw a pueblito paisa when I was in Medellin so I was familiar with the concept.  This one was much smaller and not as interesting.
The Morro Del Tulcan is an overgrown Indian pyramid on the edge of downtown.  It requires a strenuous effort to reach the top.  It was abandoned when the Spanish conquered the area.  In 1937 a large statue of the conquistador Sebastian Del Balalcazar was erected on the top.  In a state where many identify more with their indigenous ancestors than with Spain, it is said to be a somewhat controversial statue.

Upon descending the morro I was petered out and asked my host to return me to the Hotel La Plazuela.  I fell asleep promptly at 9pm and had what would come to pass as the easily the quietest and most restful night of my stay.
I was looking forward to waking up to learn more about an area I knew nothing about and had no idea what to expect.

Popayan, day one, part one

  I arrived to Popayan in the early afternoon on July 15.  On the descent I didn't see anything impressive.  The pilot parked the plane and we walked from the landing area to a small baggage claim area.  I had hosts whom I'll call Jose and Elsa that I hadn't emailed with in days.  I didn't know if they'd be there but I kept telling myself not to worry, fighting the uptight American impulse to have every detail in place.

After I gathered my suitcases and exited I saw Jose waiting there for me.  Of course he was there!  He drove me to the hotel and waited while I checked in, showed me some points of interest downtown, a museum, brought me to lunch, and then showed me more after lunch.  A person he had met once in a business setting in Bogota nearly two years before had just arrived to his hometown and he spent the whole afternoon with him.  That's hospitality.

In the next post I'll describe some of the places I saw on this first day:  downtown streets, Museo Guillermo Leon, Morro del Tulcan, and the Pueblito Payanesa.

Popayan, pre-trip

In July I spent a week on vacation in Colombia.  Most of that time was spent in or near a city (pop. 200K) called Popayan.  Prior to the trip whenever I informed Colombians (mostly from Bogota) about the destination they uniformly asked incredulously, "Why?”

It's common for Latin Americans to invite a new friend to visit them wherever they may live.  It's genuine but also understood that it will likely never happen.  Two years ago I met a couple that invited me there.  They referred to Popayan with a smirk, suggesting a slight inferiority complex but also perhaps some pride.  As time passed I got to see more of Colombia and was looking for somewhere new to go.  From what I could see it looked like an ideal place;  Spanish colonial architecture, history, museums, food, a national park and other attractions nearby.  Curiously most of the people I spoke with about Popayan had never been there.

My friends were surprised but pleased when I informed them in May of my upcoming visit.  And I was just starting to learn what hospitality, Colombian-style was all about.