La Guijera is the north eastern most state in Colombia, sometimes described as the wild west of South America. It is super hot, mostly desert, and sparsely inhabited. It is also the northern most part of South America, meaning after 9.5 months I had reached a landmark by traveling the entire length of the continent from southern Argentina. It borders Venezuela, and the Caribbean coast. The people who live there are indigenous, called the Wayuu. They speak their own language primarily but also Spanish, although the Spanish they speak is a dialect with a strong accent. I found it almost impossible to understand anything.
There are not many backpackers in Colombia in comparison to other places I have been, and out of the small amount that make it here, even fewer head up to La Guijera because of how remote it is. Those who do, usually pay a couple of hundred dollars and go on a 2 day tour in a jeep from Santa Marta. I had heard it was an amazing region, but also that Cabo de la Vela, a tiny village on the beach in the desert, had solid strong winds year round, and warm, flat, turqouise water meaning it was good for kiteboarding. Because of the lack of any sort of tourists, the food (fresh fish and lobster) and the sleeping (hammocks in a shack) are supposed to be dirt cheap. Some basic directions and this infomation was all I could find, and decided to chance it and head out there.
Without wanting to get too deep and hippy-ish, the 4 days or so I spent in the region were some of the most unforgettable of my time away so far. Unfortunately, my words and pictures will not be able to describe how amazing these places were, and how different it is from life in England. Hopefully this post will be a snapshot of what it was like and provide me with something to look back on in a few months.
I left from Taganga at about 8am. I decided to go about half an hour earlier whilst sat on the beach with some friends after watching the sun come up and going for a swim after the Isreali's afterparty. This led to an utterly horrendous day of travel. Off I set in the sun and heat on my own again after traveling with a few other people for the previous 3 weeks, drunk, with my kite bag and board with a few extras like sunglasses suncream and water stuffed in at the last minute, directions (3 names of towns and villages I needed to reach) written on my hand, my ipod, camera and $200,000 Colombian Pesos. I left my proper bag full of everything else at my hostel.
A one hour collectivo/combi van trip to Santa Marta, 2.5 hour minibus ride to Riohacha, and 2 hour car ride to Uribia later and I got stuck. I had been told this may happen as the last leg of the journey needs a 4x4 through the desert, and these have usually left by 9am. I arrived at 2.30pm, horribly tired (couldn't sleep because it was so bumpy, dirt roads most of the way), hot, dehydrated, hungover and hungry, wondering where the hell I was and what I was doing there on my own when my friends were back in Taganga drinking fresh juices on the beach...
Goats and chickens are one of the main things traded in the street here. They are live (just), tied together at the feet, and chucked around like a bag of potatoes. The buyer then puts them in their 4x4, pedal tuk-tuk or on the back of their bike like this. The goats go for £20ish. (I had to steal this photo from google as I just deleted my one of my harddrive)
I was told by a local that the 4x4s went to Cabo de la Vela at 6.30 in the morning, so I got up and walked down the street to where he had pointed and got in the back of one. I don't think I understood properly what he had said because it didn't leave until about 10 in the end when it was full. When I asked the driver how long until we left, he said 45 minutes a few times, before the last time saying 5 minutes. Maybe the guy before said they get there at 6.30? Never mind. This bloke wandered past and filled it up with diesel.
My ride. Because of the delay, I had plenty of time to wander around, buy some shoes made out of car tires for £1.50, and eat some chicken rice and soggy battered eggs for breakfast. I sat in the back amongst all the other junk with some people who lived out in the desert.
All the stuff loaded into/onto the pickup truck is dropped off to these random shacks in the middle of the desert. I have no idea how the driver knows where they are because there is nothing else around. Also no idea where these people get their drinking water from? This is a typical little hut that a family live in. There is another identical one to the right out of the photo which has their hammocks in where they sleep. The little fire in the bottom right is the kitchen.
Despite it being a desert, there must occasionally be storms and downpours because when it was not loose sand we were driving across, it was very deeply rutted tracks. The people who live out here had some of the most primitive conditions that I have seen in South America, even more so than Bolivia. Unlike Bolivia where the cold is a problem, the heat here is unavoidable. At least in Bolivia they can get in their stone huts with a fire and put some more clothes on.
Kitesurfing
I finally made it to Cabo de la Vela after about 2.5 hours in the truck. Not another kite in site, and barely any people. Absolute ghost town (village). Probably about 200 inhabitants in total judging by the number of shacks.
I finally made it to Cabo de la Vela after about 2.5 hours in the truck. Not another kite in site, and barely any people. Absolute ghost town (village). Probably about 200 inhabitants in total judging by the number of shacks.
The wind was strong, possibly too strong for my 10m kite but I could have given it a go on full de-power. However, I then discovered that the wind was blowing fully offshore (out to sea). This meant that if I crashed my kite when I was out there and I couldn't relaunch (snapped line, tangled lines, deflated leading edge etc) then I would get blown out to sea (you are attached to the kite by your harness - you can eject, but then you will lose £500ish of equipment) ending up in Cuba with no other kiters to help, or anyone in a boat to rescue me.
The boat in the picture above which was anchored in front of where I slept was called 'Captain Peligro' which means 'Captain Danger', and as you can see, it has a skull and crossbones on it.
I decided kiting was a bad idea and that I will save it for Dominican Rep., Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands.
As I was not going to kite and there was nothing else to do, I decided to head back to Taganga. I reckoned I could do it in one day. I saw the guy who brought me turn up again the next afternoon, so asked him when he was going back to Uribia the next day - he said i'll come and wake you up. Perfect. At 3.30 I nearly filled my shorts when I was woken up by 2 men in the complete darkness shaking my hammock with the engine on the pick up running behind my shack. 30 seconds later I was in the truck. We picked up another guy about 100 meters away, then set off into the desert in the darkness at a crazy speed. I tried to get a look at the speedo and think it was on 140km. It was definitely the top end of the dial... About an hour in to the drive, a woman appeared on the track in her robe, with 2 goats tied together. She threw them in next to me and off we went again.
I got back to Uribia at about 6am, had some more chicken rice and soggy battered eggs and found a car going back to Riohacha. We stopped at the petrol station before leaving as you can see here... Because it costs less than a dollar to fill a pick up truck with fuel in Venezuela, and Uribia is a couple of hours across the desert from Venezuela, all the fuel is brought over from there. I thought Ecuador was cheap at about 15p a litre but Venezuela is beyond a joke.
I finally made it back to Taganga at about 4pm, dead.
Sorry for the long rambling post.
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