September 25th
I wake up well rested in the joy that is an almost double bed. I’m in San Gil, following the advice of Fabio And Marysol who I met up in Punta Gallinas. Staying at the small but lovely El Dorado Hostel in the centre of San Gil, a hostel that Fabio and Marysol both work at and own. The hostel itself is simple but effective, a friendly staff, an awesome Pitbull named Phoenix, a friendly and playful kitten, an awesome kitchen, a dartboard and guest kitchen,hot showers and most importantly of all for those lucky few, almost double beds. Travelling for such long intervals the simple joy of being able to roll over in bed is a priceless luxury.
Following the morning routine of showering, dressing, and then sunscreening up I head out into the charming small city of San Gil, the Colombian capitol of extreme sports. I stop for a fresh fruit smoothie at an orange Julius type stand across from my hostel (4000 COP) and then make a stop at the Ding Don Pan Bakery opposite the central square of the city to pick up a few cheap baked goods (Between 500 and 2000 COP a piece) which will serve as breakfast and lunch.
All those goodies in hand I walk the 5 minutes it takes to come to the Terminaleta, a place where all the smaller buses bound for the surrounding villages start their route, Barichara in mind as my destination.
The platforms in the Terminaleta are well labelled so what could have been a complex task is made simple as I walk up to platform 5 and climb onto the waiting bus which costs 4,200 COP each way. A few minutes later the bus is full and we pull out of the station and out on to one of the main roads leading further up into the mountains and out of San Gil.
Barichara is about an hour from San Gil, but the hour passes quickly as I get to know the only other gringos on the bus, two germans and an Australian. Two of them are studying in Bogota and are on a week long break from University the other is just over for a brief visit. We get to know each other and talk of past travels and future destinations and before you know it the bus arrives.
I climb out of the bus and into the central square of a charming little town, looking around in every direction. It all looks almost the same, charming, colonial, and clearly kept up. Barichara feels a little like your walking through a small spanish village from the 1700’s but with all the modern amenities you could need. It isn’t long before I’m fighting the temptation to spend a night.
My eyes fix on the village’s central church whose huge wooden doors are wide open. I wander in realizing suddenly that I’ve not been in a church since I first got to Cartagena. It’s a lovely smaller church inside with tons of realistic painted sculptures of scenes from the bible and a charming display of artwork from young children illustrating scenes from that same bestseller. My personal favourite is Jonah and the whale.
The floor too is fascinating and the place certainly has the silent reverent feeling of old world Cathedrals. I’m not religious in any meaningful way, but I see beauty in churches and choice to look past the darker sides that I know exist in most organizations the size of the catholic church.
Heading out of the church I walk through the park and am greeted by a very friendly, and very fat golden lab, who is eager to share any piece of my baked goods I might be wiling to part with. His owner smiles at me but shakes her head when I indicate the food so I leave well enough alone and continue through the park which is filled with local people seemingly at all times.
Not really having any semblance of a plan I set off down a random neatly cobblestoned street heading towards towards the edge of town. I pop in to a small ‘tienda’ (store) and grab a cold 7up before continuing on my way. The sun up here is nothing like it was in on the Caribbean coast. but I’m still getting hot quickly. It doesn’t help that since Barichara is very much a mountain town, every road is sloped one way or another.
I pass by a horse grazing in a fenced in meadow and then reach the edge of town, looking out at rolling hills and the odd ‘Finca’ (farm) dotting the idyllic landscape. I spend a few minutes just admiring the peaceful view and then head back up into town, finding a friendly cat perched on a narrow opening between a roof and a wall.
I choose another street to walk back up and walk by countless friendly locals who both welcome and are very used to tourism. Barichara, as a perfectly preserved colonial town, is observably a favourite for both Colombian and International tourists. I’m there on a thursday in the mid afternoon in low season, so it’s not unpleasantly crowded, but there are many signs for small hotels and touristy restaurants, all blending pleasantly with the surprisingly authentic feeling the town gives off.
As I wander back along different streets I’m struck with inspiration for a new piece of writing, surprisingly not even fantasy. I stumble upon another smaller church on my way back to the central square and wander in and out again, feeling relaxed and inspired as ideas blossom in my head as I look around the town and stop to speak with a few of the friendlier locals. Every time I interact in Spanish socially I feel a strange mix of shame and happiness, shame that my spanish is so limited, but happy that I can communicate, if not smoothly. Still, my vocabulary and fluency does seem to be improving slowly. As I find myself in the square again my mind shifts to the idea of a week or two of spanish schools somewhere in Ecuador. I decide it will be a good idea If I can find the right situation.
I take a seat in the park under the canopy on a carved stone bench and spend the next hour or so letting ideas grow and connect in my mind, scribbling down notes of important links onto my I-pod touch. One of the greatest things of about travel for me is the constant and varied inspiration for writing, and one of the great frustrations of writing is the time it takes to do properly. I know have the backlogged kernels of ideas for at least 7 or 8 more books. Undoubtedly some will never be written, and some will combine with others to form better books. In the end I put my I-pod away and decide its a good problem to have. I’m excited by the idea but know its only a beginning, it will now inhabit some hidden corner of my mind developing and growing until I find the time to get it down on paper.
The schools have let out and the park around me is suddenly flooded with students of all ages in a wide variety of uniforms all with that special grin of a child whose finished with school for the rest of the day. Hundreds of glowing faces pass by my seat, talking, laughing, play fighting and sometimes even stopping to say quick hello’s to me, and asking me where I’m from.
Eventually the afternoon sun is sinking lower in the sky, reflection off the uniform red tile roofs and I decide it’s time to head back to San Gil. Barichara leaves me feeling peaceful and happy if not in awe and after just a five minute wait I’m heading back the way I’ve come on a far less crowded bus.
I arrive back in San Gil and decide to spend the last daylight hours walking through a park at the edge of town called Parque Naturale El Gallineral (5000 COP entrance). The park is thick forest with some lovely places to relax by the one of the rivers which rushes through San Gil with incredible speed.
On the walk through I am treated to countless beautiful tropical plants and even a few tropical birds, though the most spectacular is most certainly not a wild one. I end up sitting on a bench under some truly magnificent trees reading Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, quite an entrancing little story.
I look to my I-pod and see the park is about to closed and the sun is about to set so quickly I pack up and embark on the 20 minute walk back to the centre of San Gil and my hostel. Hunger stirs in my stomach and I decide to head to a pizzeria Fabio has recommended just up the street from my hostel called 7 Tigres. It’s not the cheapest place but it’s some of the best pizza I’ve had since Italy and the family who runs the restaurant is incredibly friendly and happy to hear my compliments. I ate more than I should as the pizzas come in two sizes individual or medium. I wish there was a halfway option like Quiznos 9 inch sub, but alas, I must eat more delicious food. The pizzas range from 10,000 to 25,000 COP but it’s worth the premium and absolutely delicious.
The 8 year old son of the family joins me at my table and talks in a veritable hurricane of speech, barely ever stopping to let me get a word in. I do my best to keep up though his accent is thick and articulation rough,still I manage to have a fairly functional conversation with him about Xbox and all of his favourite games, most especially Gran Turismo.
I walk out with a full stomach and a smile on my face and return to the lovely El Dorado hostel where a bed larger than a single waits for me. Reflecting on the day as I drift off with soft music in my ears I smile, it was very pleasant, and inspiring, if not quite awe inspiring, well, except for the pizza.
