9 February 2014 – After an 11 hour bus ride from Santa Marta
to Bucaramanga, we hopped in a tiny yellow cab that looked more like a go-cart
than a vehicle. Our cab driver was
equally as tiny - he looked about 14 years old and still had prepubescent acne
on his face. As we were zipping down the
mountain around a curve, our kid cabbie drove full speed ahead into a
curb. Unsurprisingly, our tiny car
lurched and banged around as it jumped over the cement. Instead of doing what most normal, rational
drivers would do, our taxi driver quickly recovered and kept on driving as
though nothing had happened. I think it
was his first day on the job and he wanted to play it cool. We just sat in the back staring at each other,
thinking what the hell? You could hear a
faint whining coming from the front tire and after a few minutes I finally
asked, is everything ok? He responded
with, “Oh, you speak Spanish? I think I
might have blew out my tire.” Yeah, I think
so buddy. He then proceeded to drive a
bit further, while sticking his head out the window every now and then checking
to see if everything looked okay.
Finally, I looked out the window and saw a completely blown out tire
driving on its rims. Time for a tire and
cab change.
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| The picturesque streets of Barichara |
After a quick and rather uneventful layover in Bucaramanga
for the night, we caught a quick four and a half hour bus ride to the quaint mountain
town Barichara. We stumbled upon a
little slice of heaven with this one.
Picturesque rolling hills with bright red clay open up to an immaculate
mountain village that looks like a snapshot of another time. Old colonial white-washed buildings with
charming green trim, potted ceramic flower pots and terra cotta tiled roofs
make you feel as though you are wandering around in a foregone era.
As we meandered up and down the cobblestone streets, I
bothered Lance and Jared by stopping to take picture after picture of massive
old wooden doors, terraces with colorful potted plants and street after street
of charming buildings. Old men in cowboy
hats and sweater vests sat in the park chatting, while a charming little old
lady rolled her tiny cart of coffee and juice in thermoses back and forth,
offering coffee, tea and juice to anyone that would listen.
Other than just sitting back and enjoying the sleepy vibe of
Barichara, we also made quite a ritual of visiting one of the many panaderias
(bakeries) in town each morning. Their delirious
scent of fresh baked bread wafts through the streets making you defenseless in
saying no to a warm queso roll and a cup of café con leche.
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Catedral de la Immaculada Concepcion, and 18th Century
Church with 4 ft. thick sandstone walls |
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| Massive, ancient wooden doors |
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| Can't get enough of my café con leche |
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