Friday, March 26, 2010

Half way through Colombia

From the first day of being in Colombia, we met more kindness and hospitality than in all of Central America combined! Bus driver buying us a meal, vacationing family inviting us for a picnik, merchants refusing to accept the payment for a litre of youghourt, families inviting us to stay the night, people on the street starting up friendly conversations...
This friendly family took us up to a mountain stream, where they swam in the cold water and relaxed in the fresh air.
A descriptive name for a youghurt store, isn´t it?
If you show up sweaty and tired, they don´t charge you for what you ask, but instead give sweet treats and wish happy trails.
As we were walking out of Pereira, a couple stopped and invited us to their home to rest for the night. John and Carolina have a small baby, a big dog and a beautiful garden.As soon as we entered their home, the skies opened up and the water came down for a good half hour. We would have been soaked to the bone.
As we parted, they told us to go to Salento, a beautiful town in the mountains nearby. As it was pretty close (20 minutes driving), we decided to walk there. And indeed, we walked most of the way, but as we were about 5 kms outside of town, a car stopped in front of us and the back door was magically flung open...
In Salento, we met Tom, with whom we crossed the San Blas. He told us about a beautful trek nearby, and we all went for a long walk (we estimated that it was about 30 kms in total) the next day. On the way out of town our group was joined by a street dog Mateo, who stayed with us throughout the whole hike.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Crossing the Camarca Kuna Yala


So started our long crossing of the San Blas Archipelago, home of the Kuna Indians. For better or worse, they are fully autonomous from Panama, they come up and try to enforce laws of their own, prohibit foreign investment, maintain their traditions and way of life.
Our first stop was a small island of Carti, a typical Kuna village build on a very small island, the windowless bamboo huts crowded on it without any apparent planning. The small structures on the sides of the photo are toilets. Some of them are built more solidly than the others. On the village dock we met Chessi from BC, who was travelling on a motorcycle from Costa Rica to Bolivia. When we met, Chessi has already spent two days on the island, waiting for a cargo boat ¨Lya del Mar¨, that was supposed to arrive yesterday, but was delayed. He already knew quite a bit about the surrounding islands, ways of getting to them and pros and cons of different modes of transportation in the region (dug out canoes, powerboats and cargo ships).
There was a military supply vessel docked at Carti when we arrived, bound for Puerto Obaldia. We chatted with the crew for a bit (in Russian!), the first mate and another passenger having both studied in Russia. Amazed by the encounter, the first mate agreed to take us all (and the motorcycle) to the next island, Nargana, the capital of the Kuna Yala. Why they couldn´t take us all the way, remained a mystery.
That is where we spent the next six days waiting for ¨Lya del Mar¨. Many other boats came and went, but they were all going other direction, to Colon. Everybody we spoke to told us that ¨Lya del Mar¨ is in Colon and is coming to Nargana tomorrow. It seemed to be a sort of a joke, this sentence was repeated by everybody for ten consecutive days. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow for sure. If not, the day after it´ll be here.
There was a condemned school on the island, in the process of demolition, which was a joke in itself. It appeared to be a Saturday project for the male population of the village. Thirty men, armed with one sledge hammer and one shovel, were breaking the two storey concrete building by hand, carrying off the rubble to the near-by shore, expanding the island. The second storey was already gone when we showed up, but the lower level classrooms remained intact. We asked the local chief if we could camp in one of them, and he gave us his permission. We cleaned one of the rooms up, found some buckets and crates to sit on, positioned ourselves in the porch and started waiting.
Our activities on the island included: looking around, sitting, looking on the horizon, shopping for bread and eggs (which were sometimes out of stock, in the shops that were open for business only now and then), sowing, talking to locals who came up to us to chat and tell us that Lya del Mar is coming ¨tomorrow¨... We even picked up some Kuna words!
There was a basketball court in front of the school, and we attended every match that was played there.
As the days went by, more travellers came, and at one point, six people slept in our classroom. Two Israelis, Ofri and Tom, joined us for the rest of the journey to Puerto Obaldia. So, there were more of us waiting.
Finally, a cargo ship ¨Yeya¨ sailed in. It was bound for Ustupo, another, bigger, island half way to where we needed to go. Needless to say, we were excited for the opportunity to get closer to our destionation, and to finally change the place of waiting.
Ustupo was much more traditional than Nargana, with more bamboo huts, narrow paths, dugout canoes and with more women wearing traditional dresses.
Ironically, ¨Lya del Mar¨ was supposed to show up on this island tomorrow, too!
The food was much more scarce on this island than on the previous one: no greens at all, no eggs (but lots of chickens running around), bread without salt... The main dish was rice and fried platanos, known as ¨patacones¨, they taste just like potatoes.
This island was much bigger than the others, and there was even some unoccupied land near the beach, where we decided to camp for the first night.The spot was beautiful and serene, but it was infested with swarms of sandflies, which are so small that they can get THROUGH the tent mesh and suck happily on your blood all night long. In the morning we were all covered in little red bumps, like some contagious disease.
The second and third nights we chose to sleep on the concrete village dock, with the gentle breeze keeping the bugs at bay.
On the third day, ¨Lya del Mar¨ finally cought up with us and we leaped onboard.There were 15 more travellers on the boat, and one of them, Alex, we have met on the road back in Mexico!!! As it was a trading vessel, it stopped in every major village on the way, selling sugar, flour, canned goods and beer. It took us two long days before we finally reached Puerto Obaldia.
Here, we waved good-bye to Chessi, Ofri and Tom and teamed up with three other couples from Switzerland, Basque country and Argentina. With them we got a good price on the lancha (a small motorboat) going to Capurgana. Once on Colombian soil, we got our passports stamped and the Swiss cooked up a fiest with freshly cought salmon, fresh greens and a strong marakuya punsh, what a sweet delight it was!
In the morning we got onto another lancha that took us to Turbo, where the pan-american highway began once again.
So, we are in South America!

Friday, February 26, 2010

Panama Canal

The last week we spent in the historic neighbourhood of Panama City, relaxing and observing the streetlife from our third-floor balcony. Then, one day, we learned of a boat that needed line handlers to transit the Panama Canal. We got together with two other travellers, Romina and Ayack, and went to meet our captain in Portobello.
We got there early, so we had a few hours to explore the old fort that protected the once-richest Spanish port on the Carribean.
Then the captain showed up and we went aboard his yacht.
Next morning we motored to the port of Colon to pick up our advisor, a man telling the captain what to do but not responsible if something goes wrong.
On our way to the first set of locks, Gatun, we saw a lot of big container ships, auto-carriers and oil tankers.


For the Gatun locks, we were scheduled to go in after a ´small´ contasiner ship, so we had to wait to let him pass. As soon as the ship went into the locks we rafted up with two other yachts, us in the middle, and went into the chamber after the ship.
We lucked out the first time, because the linehadlers on other boats had to do all the work and we had nothing else to do but take pictures. We have to say that it was very surprising to see the level of water rise so fast, 30 feet in 3 minutes or so. The procedure was quite simple: the boat (or a raft of boats) is prevented from hitting the wall by four lines attached to cleats on the sides of the dock. The workers onshore throw us their light lines, we attach our heavier lines to them, they drag our lines up and secure them on their cleats. We, in turn, maintain tension on the lines as the water level changes. Easy.
It was getting dark as we got our onto the man-made Gatun lake, so we tied up to the bouy and raised a toast to the succesful first transfer.
Next morning, before the first light, we were underway to the next locks to lower us back down to the sea level. Shortly before the Pedro Miguel locks, we saw the biggest excavation on the Canal - the Gaillard Cut, an impressive mountain moved out of the way a hundred years ago. Wow.The final set of locks, Miraflores, made us sweat a little bit more. This time we arrived well ahead of the other yachts and we did not raft up with anybody, so everybody onboard had a job to do. The things got interesting when one of the workers on shore decided to simply let go of the line, which Anastasia was holding. It took us another five minutes to get the line back to him. Anastasia could not secure the line until it was attached onshore, and by the time the worker caught up, the rope was running out fast. By this time we were already pushed by the strong current dangerously close to the opposite wall of the lock (any captain´s worst nightmare). The advisor made things worse by jumping in and sticking his foot into the cleat (what was he thinking?), instead of helping doing the proper stoping knot. The rope jammed on his shoe and destroyed it, and we had a hell of a time trying to straighten out the boat and undo the mess.
We missed the wall by about a meter, and made it fine to the Pacific. Captain shook our hands and dropped us off at the marina. We went home, showered and went to sleep.