Salento

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Whenever or wherever I dropped the question “where else should I go to in Colombia?” people immediately stopped with what they were doing and started hysterically screaming “SALENTOOOO”.

So that’s exactly what I shouted to the lady at the Bogotá bus terminal when she asked me where I wished to travel next. In my Wi-Fi-bus (yes, the bus system is well-developed in Colombia, I’m impressed) to the neighbouring town Armenia I passed the gorgeous but rough mountain passes with a soundtrack of vomiting clutter in the background. Curves and turns and stuff. As from Armenia there were no vans heading to Salento late at night, I crashed at a cheap but beyond disgusting retreat right next to the terminal, where chewing gum and indefinable spots decorated the plastic walls and snails climbed their way up out of the sink.

I assume no one was ever so delighted to arrive in this idyllic town as this travelblogger. Not only because I was crammed into a minibus next to an obese drooling handicapped man who tumbled face-down into my lap at several turns, but also because I had a second agenda… From behind my cup of acceptable cappuccino I saw the real reason of my Salento visit walking down the street: Kieran, a slice of pure hotness straight from New Zealand. After an intense little romance in Quito we decided that a sequel was necessary, and what’s a better location than this lush green valley where the bananas grow and the hummingbirds fly?

We walked outside town to the Serrana Ecofarm & Hostel. Screw heaven, this is where I want to go if I die as a good girl (which is highly unlikely). Splurging is okay sometimes, so we picked the fancy furnished tent with private terrace overlooking the valley as our temporary settlement.

It was so unspoiled and peacefully rustic that it almost felt fake, like you’re in some kind of cheesy Hugh Grant movie starring you. I couldn’t tell if this was our second meet-up or our honeymoon, very confusing. After we watched the bright blue sky turn into an orange-purple-pink sunset, we took out a blanket and discussed all important and less important things life has to offer while staring up at the constellations. Sometimes intense happiness is such an easy thing to accomplish.

I slept until the sounds of the countryside woke me up and put on my trekking shoes. Salento is located an adventurous stand-up jeep-ride away from Valle de Cocora, which is as fabulous as it sounds.

No prior stretching was needed, as the clear paths indicated a laid-back and easy hike. Nevertheless, I did manage to tumble down from a (luckily) shallow cliff and bleed like a pig after I ran straight into barbed wire. Adventure is never far away for a person as clumsy as me… What can I say, it’s a gift.

After six hours of happy hiking in the green palmtree-covered surroundings we returned to town to experience a bit of the Salento Festival that was going on. If there’s one thing Colombians are good at, it’s turning every random situation into an occasion of dancing, drinking and singing. This might be related to the reason why I feel that I could live here: Colombia swings, salsa being the blood energizing the country, pumped around by a thing called passion.

Prosperity has an expiration date: After I woke up again with a fair share of beauty next to me and in the valley in front of me I kissed the blonde surfboy goodbye (for now) and watched him leave to Medellín where he had some farming business to attend. I decided to stay another day to celebrate the thing I had to miss for months in Chile, Bolivia, Peru and Ecuador: drinkable coffee. After an era of instant Nescafe misery I am thrilled to be situated in the land of sublime coffee plantations. So I walked down the long but scenic road to the El Ocaso farm, where my guide tied a reed bucket to my ass in which to drop the fresh coffee beans I was about to harvest.

During an informative tour I was taken from the beginning of the coffee cycle (the plants) to the final stage of roasting the beans and the best part: drinking a cup of freshly brewed black deliciousness. I could have gone hiking, mountainbiking or jogging afterwards, but I concluded the environment demanded just one thing from me: Lying horizontally in a hammock.

Life is better in a hammock.

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