Having spent most of our time in very big cities since we entered Colombia, we decided to skip the next big city of Cali and instead push onwards to Popayan. But we'd never manage this in a day so on recommendation from our friends at the bike shop we headed for Armenia, a small city in the coffee growing region of Colombia. We stayed outside the city in a wonderful home-cum-hostel, where the
owner, after taking a look at us after our long journey, upgraded us to a private room for free!
The ride from Bogota had been a rollercoaster. It started off chilly and wet up at 2800m, but within an hour we were back down in the valley where it was so hot that my clothes were wet and I somewhat lost the plot when we eventually stopped for a drink, ripping all my gear off and sitting in the shade in a huff. Quite used to this behaviour Tom went off and got me an ice cream to cool me down.
We soldiered on and reached Colombia's infamous 'La Linea' - a beautiful winding road back up into the mountains. It is the only route from Bogota towards the coast and thus is choc-full of trucks and lorries which, on a narrow winding road can cause a few problems. At many points the corners are too tight for two vehicles to go around simultaneously, particularly trucks, which can cause a lot of backlog. But of course the joy of being on a bike means that we can whizz past most of the traffic when there is enough visibility. Which on a winding road isn't that often so we're slowly getting used to the buzzkill that is getting stuck behind a row of huge lorries!
A couple of hours after being so hot that I had a mood swing and needed an ice cream, I was so cold my teeth were chattering. At the top of the mountain pass over to Armenia we were very high, very wet and very chilly! We stopped at a little shack for the most delicious hot chocolate I've ever had (probably on account of how cold I was) plus some local cheese and corn bread. Rejuvenated, we descended back down into Armenia where we were toasty once again, and crashed for the night at our lovely hostel.
Next it was on to Popayan, an old colonial city (a small one) whose buildings are pretty much all white, making it very pretty. On our way to Popayan we were making very good time, and for once it looked like we were going to be right on the nose of our map's estimated journey time. That is until we were about 25km away, when we came to the back of a traffic jam. Of course being on a bike we scooted around, waiting to come to the cause of the jam and hopefully scoot around that too. But after ten minutes of riding past nose-to-tail, non-moving traffic there was still no sign of the cause and we were slightly worried about what we might find when we did eventually reach the end. The jam got denser and denser, until we were weaving through 3 lanes of vehicles, half of which were facing the wrong way. Eventually we came to a petrol station, where everyone had got out the cars and where there were hundreds of motorbikes at the front blocking the road. As we got off the bike and looked around a man started shouting on a megaphone, and most of the people around us started chanting too, pulling out red and black flags with Che Guvara on them. Feeling a little unsettled, we asked some friendly looking guys whether it was political. From what we understood it was not, it was actually a protest by teachers and professors about the appauling healthcare they receive. 'Chatting' (in our very limited Spanish) to these guys we learned they'd been there since eight in the morning, and it was now 5pm. But after just half an hour later everything started moving, and we joined the throng trying to get through to Popayan. While it added an hour onto our day it was a pretty cool thing to be a part of.
Popayan was a pretty little city where we stayed just two nights, with our one full day spent taking a day trip to the hot springs at Coconuco. It was quite novel taking the bus and being driven to a destination for once, but I certainly prefer being in charge of where we're going and when! The pools were set in very pretty Colombian countryside, and we spent the afternoon cooking ourselves in the 90 degree naturally heated pool, and cleansing in the natural sauna.
After nearly three weeks in Colombia it was time for our next country. Coming out of the valley towards Ecuador the scenery stepped it up a notch, with huge mountains raising up either side of us. We stopped near Pasto at a lovely hostel called Hostal Kundur, set in a little town two hours from the border, where we relaxed and re-packed our luggage in preparation for the colder climates to come.
