We lingered at the hostel the morning of
our departure of Villa de Leyva. Before we knew it it was 11am and we were just
getting on the road. We were heading for Duitama, but having enjoyed the back roads
so much on our ride from Bogota we decided to take the long way there. We also
hoped it would give Martin a chance to catch up with us so that we could head
to El Cocuy together.
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| Winding roads on the way from Villa de Leyva |
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| Classic Colombian imagery |
We left Villa de Leyva on a gently climbing
road, which turned unpaved and got steeper after crossing the main highway at
Arcabuco. At first, we enjoyed a beautiful ride along the mountainside, but
then the road deteriorated into one of the worst we have ever ridden! There
were massive rocks, dried mud, and cobbles, meaning that even on the completely
flat sections we could not reach 10 km per hour.
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| A great ride along the mountainside |
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| Cyclist vs. mountains |
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| Beautiful scenery but rough roads |
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| 10km per hour on the flat |
We pulled into the tiny town of La Palma at
5pm. It was so small that there weren't even houses on all four sides of the
plaza, and were assured it would be perfectly fine to camp there. As we set up
our tent we had conversations with a couple of locals, including a younger guy
who offered us water from his house and talked to us about the days when the
village was ruled by guerillas, and also about what parts of Colombia have the
best fruits and vegetables. The most interested were the kids, who asked lots
of questions about our tent and cooking equipment, and visited us several times
in the evening and also the following morning. Despite it being a Monday, the
nightlife was in full swing with a bar full of drunk campesinos playing really
loud music! Fortunately we seem to have learned to sleep through any noise and
we had a comfortable night's sleep, only woken briefly when it started to rain.
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| The kids stopped by on their way to school at 7 am. Note the home-made horses some of them carried! |
On our way out of town in the morning, we
mentioned to some locals about the route we were planning on taking from
Gambita to Paipa and were told that the road was closed due to obras
(roadworks). They kindly called someone they knew who was working on the road,
to confirm that bicycles could still pass. Now confident of our route choice,
(although the locals also assured us that the road surface was going to remain
in bad condition for a while) we headed on towards the stiff climb we knew was
coming after Gambita. We decided to get as much of the climb out of the way
that day as we could, which meant cycling until close to dark and then finding
a place to wild camp.
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| The rough road continued after La Palma, apparently a dairy area |
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| Stylish butcher shopfront in Palermo, before we camped |
We ended up choosing a little clearing next
to the road which was used for pedestrian access to the finca behind. As we
were putting up the tent a woman came out of the finca's gate. She worked on
the finca and told us there would be no problem at all with us camping there.
Then she offered us a couple of tamales that she was carrying home—they were
delicious!
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| Our camp spot for the night on the climb to Paipa |
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| Morning fog before we continued the climb |
The rain came very strong and sudden as we
were setting up camp—I happened to be inside the tent when it started, so was
privileged to have an excuse to stay under cover and dry while Alberto had to
finish cooking dinner in the pouring rain. The owner of the finca then came
over, in the pouring rain, and had a long and interesting chat with Alberto.
The rest of the climb was about as good as
could be expected for a long, unpaved climb and we made good progress. Then it
was jackets on for the descent, first unpaved and then beautiful pavement,
which always feels welcome after a few days on dirt roads. We reached Paipa at
about noon and immediately found a hospedaje, a bit pricey but really nice,
with a large sun-filled courtyard which we set to work taking over to dry everything
out. We bought some yummy queso paipa, the only aged cheese available in
Colombia.
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| Paipa cheese - as close to a European cheese as it gets |
The next day, we found that the dirt roads
of the past few days had sapped a bit of our energy, so we invented the concept
of a moving rest day. We would leave as late as we want, eat lots of yummy
treats, and just view any kilometers we accomplished as a bonus. We took the
longer way from Paipa to Duitama via Pantano de Vargas and a cafe stop for the
local specialty of almojabanas with agua panela. Then a delicious almuerzo in
Duitama and we set off again up route 55, which was busy at first with truck
traffic, but then got quieter.
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| Duitama is big on cycling |
We climbed to Santa Rosa as the clouds got
increasingly dark, but we didn't really like the look of the town so we decided
to see if we could make it to Belen before the rain started. There was a bit
more climbing to be done, but then it was descent all the way. We made fast
progress and we had every hope of outracing the storm, but about 2km from
Belen, we got caught, bad. The streets were turning to rivers and the rain was
forcing my eyes closed so that I could barely see. As soon as we hit the
outskirts of Belen, we took cover under an awning to see if the rain would
lighten up. Then we noticed the gas station across the way had rooms, and we
decided to cut our losses and head there for the night.
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| Pouring rain in Belen, although it does not quite capture how soaked we got |
We had the luxury of a second relaxed
morning in a row as we waited for Martin to arrive in Belen. After our joyful
reunion we started out on the gently climbing route 55, which was now very quiet.
We stopped in El Paramo (Tutaza) for a quick snack, and the road levelled out
for a while through beautiful landscapes, then descended fast to Susacon, where
we stopped for the night. We had three passes ahead of us to reach the town of
El Cocuy and the gateway to the Sierra Nevada there.
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| Reunion with Martin, who we met two months ago in Ecuador |
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| Great to be three on the road (photo courtesy of Martin Andexer) |
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| The children of El Paramo were surprised by the arrival of three cycling gringos (photo courtesy of Martin Andexer) |
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| The 55 becomes quiet and scenic past El Paramo |
It rained the next morning so we waited
around until 10:30am before the rain stopped. We descended to the river valley at 1300m, to start climbing
again—it was hot down there! The climbing was tough in the heat, but beautiful.
We saw rain clouds in the distance and wished they would come find us and cool
us down, but alas, the rain would wait until we were in the middle of cooking
an alfresco dinner before hitting.
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| We dealt with all sorts of road traffic... |
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| Then we saw the town of Soata getting hit by hard rain as we climbed to Boavita |
Just before Boavita we passed a restaurante
campestre and asked if we could camp there. David, the owner, didn't even
hesitate, just said 'of course,' and then, because the restaurant wasn't open
for dinner, offered to sell us trout, meat, and vegetables so we could cook. It
was a cycle tourists´ dream come true, and although we got soaked when the rain
came down, we were then able to shelter under the open-air dining area which
made a world of difference.
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| El Eden restaurant, where we camped, had great views of Boavita and La Uvita |
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| Cyclists feasting on fresh trout after getting soaked |
The next day was election day in Colombia,
which meant quieter roads but busier towns than usual. We continued our
climbing to La Uvita, then descended again to another valley before starting
the next climb at about 2:00 in the afternoon—why do we always do that? Nearing
the top of the climb we stopped to check out camping opportunities, and fell into
conversation with an older man who gave us his opinion on elections (not worth
voting), the environment (energy companies are ruining it), and many other
topics. He was one of the only farmers living in the area and said we could
camp in his fields. It was a lucky break, because as we headed over to the
field I found I had a puncture (my first of the trip)—much more convenient to
fix it while we were stopped for the night.
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| The buses were incredibly busy on election day |
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| There's always religious motifs on top of the mountains |
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| Night cooking at 7 pm |
It rained overnight and we waited to dry
the tents out before getting started with a tiny bit left of our second pass,
then the descent to Guacamayas, and our final climb to El Cocuy. At the top of
the pass we caught our first glimpse of the Sierra Nevada and stopped to chat
to the man running the mirador there about the mountains and the road ahead.
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| The last big climb before El Cocuy, at 3000 m, where we saw the Sierra Nevada for the first time |
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| Great Police signage to prevent accidents |
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| Quick descent to the valley before El Cocuy |
Then it was the long descent to Guacamayas. The plan was to get some bread for
a snack later up the road, but the men drinking in the panaderia (at 10:30am)
had other plans. One of them had just lost the election for local government,
and they were drinking to commiserate/celebrate. They were totally taken aback
by the appearance of three gringos on bicycles into their little village, and
especially with Martin. They insisted on buying the boys beers (I got a Coke)
and chatting to us about any number of things. We ended up in the panaderia for
an hour and a half before prying ourselves free to tackle the final climb and
reach El Cocuy.
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| Martin, a racing cyclist back in Austria, broke the speed limit |
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| Free beers and friendly locals at noon in Guacamayas generated a lot of laughs |
The climb was tough in the afternoon heat,
but laughing about the Guacamayas beer
experience made it pass more quickly. Soon we were in El Cocuy getting ready
for a few days in the National Park of the Sierra Nevada de El Cocuy.
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| And finally, our destination of El Cocuy |
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| El Cocuy is Alberto's most favourite town with its green and white houses |
