Ciudad Perdida

It turns out writing these things is a lot harder after the fact, so this will be a bit short.

The trek to Ciudad Perdida, The Lost City, started with a great surprise which was that the irrepressible Jenny Weiss, who I met on the 2nd day of my trip and who started hers on the same day, was going as well. She was the first of many great people in the group, many of whom I'm still with, but that's the next story.

The first and second days were spent marching towards the city up and down through the hills of Columbia in country controlled by the para-military who, along with the military, protect the 100 or so cocaine factories and a lot of coca and marijuana plantations in the area.

On the morning of the second day we visited one of the bigger cocaine factories, which was more or less a shack in the middle of the jungle, where an old man with a croaky voice who loves to pose for photos described the process to us. It takes 100 kilograms of coca leaves to produce just under 1 kilogram of pure cocaine and all of the process, except for the last step, is performed in the small jungle labs. The process involves lots of nasty household chemicals that, ironically, seem to get added in at the end as well, bicarb of soda, Ajax, along with petrol... lots of petrol, and acids. The last step is to neutralise the acid using acetone, but because acetone is highly explosive they do it in more secure locations. Secure because they're worried about guerrilla snipers firing at the acetone and blowing up the labs... yeah, life is a little different here. Another nice touch was that our cocaine factory tour guide is wanted by the police but was totally relaxed and calm. The para-military and the military work with the government and cartels to make sure everyone is happy, and rich, here.

We were supposed to visit an Indian village, descendants of the original inhabitants of Ciudad Perdida, but we got caught in a downpour that lasted a few hours, so we sped ahead to the camp. We arrived soaked and ready to jump into our hammocks, but managed to stay up a few hours entertained by a series of very intense chess matches between two Israeli guys who were far to good to play against.

We started early the next day, crossing chest high rivers, well one river eight times, with our packs on our shoulders and holding on to ropes for dear life, climbing across slick jungle rocks, drinking from waterfalls and generally having a great time. The best part was still to come though, and we had a quick jog up 2000 small, slippery stairs to the actual city. The city was built by the Cobi people to hide from the Spanish during their conquest and was “discovered” in the 70's by 2 guys who pillaged the city, taking nearly all of the gold and other valuables. They were smart though and cataloged everything, showed their photos to the government in Bogotá and were hired to excavate the site. Somewhere along the line one of them was killed and the other spent all his money on women and wine, but the city has been restored very nicely. None of the buildings remain, only their foundations, but you get a great feel for how the city was laid out. Hidden away in the mountains, my imagination was running wild with what life was like in the city during it's heyday.

We spend two nights in the city and I introduced the group to my favourite card game, Plümp. Several of the group became addicted as I am and we played a lot. In fact, we're still playing.

On the way back we visited the village that we skipped on the way up, meeting some of the villagers and giving them some supplies for the school. One more night in the hammocks greeted us at camp and the next day were returned to Santa Marta, planning our next trip... Parque Naciaonal Tayrona.