Hitchhiking the World: Chap 5 (Colombia & Ecuador)

---January 27th 2016---

It was 6:30PM, on Wednesday 27th, and I was back on the road. Well actually, I still needed to exit town, and night was falling fast. Even if my next destination was south, I chose to walk east to exit town faster and then contour the city of Cartagena. I walk until darkness, and once night caught me, I kept walking for a little while. Unfortunately, I ended up in a rougher neighbourhood. Feeling less safe, I decided to take the bus heading toward the airport.

As I was walking a bit farther from town, I saw an ambulance with its two driver watching TV in a tent. I asked them for direction, and as I explained my situation, they offered me to sleep next to their tent so that I would get bothered by anyone. I hung out with them the traffic controller worker and finally went to bed. Just as I was heading to my tent, one of the traffic controllers offered to give me a ride in the morning, but I had to be up and ready by 6AM.

I woke up at 5AM, packed everything and as I got back to the traffic controller’s tent, I realised no one from the night before was there. I asked the new people and they explained they were asked to take care of me in the morning. Fair enough, at 6AM, they offered me a ride to the edge of town.

I had to wait half an hour to get my first ride (caught with my thumb). It was a motorcycle. As the frisk morning breeze mixed with the wind of the motorcycle was cooling my body below my comfort zone, I enjoyed the gorgeous orange Sun rising from a near savanna landscape covered by a beautiful fog.

My first experience with hitchhiking in Colombia proofed to be quite odd. I managed to win over 16 vehicles and got a free meal, but what was the strangest was that 9 of those vehicles were motorcycles. They are indeed fun to ride, but carrying 45lbs around makes them very demanding ride. Furthermore, out of all those motorcycle, I managed to have on three-wheel ice cream motorcycle heading to work. We weren’t moving very fast, but it sure was fun to be in this odd vehicle.

Riding the back of an ice-cream motorcycle

As the Sun was about to vanish from the sky, a donkey pulling a carriage offered me to cross town; talking about an odd mode of transportation.

They left me at the edge of town where I positioned myself next to some speedbumps. I waited for a little while and finally, I saw a car stop. I ran toward it and one of the passengers asked me for money. I told him I had none, but despite a little hesitation, he accepted to give me a ride. The passenger was extremely drunk and very uncomfortable. The only thing that kept riding with them was that the driver was sober and much less uncomfortable. Riding through night, I could see very well the face of my two companions. And so when I asked them what was their job, and the drunken passenger respond “narcotina”, I instantly felt very uncomfortable. I knew he was joking, but he just kept on going with his joke, constantly asking me questions I couldn’t understand about my drug consumption. When we finally arrived at the truck stop, we got out and feeling very uncomfortable, I told them I was going to find a place to sleep for the night. They both stopped me asking: “¿Tú quieres carnes? Es una invitación”. I thought they were inviting me to eat at the near restaurant, but it turns out, their meat was in fact a prostitute. If I was uncomfortable enough, they really got me there. I declined the offer and left as fast as possible before thing got worst. I walked around the area but could find anywhere to hide. Finally, I found two trees slightly blocking the lights from the ongoing traffic and spent the night over there.

The next morning, I got back on the side of the road and just as I raised my thumb, a car stopped by. It wasn’t any car; it was the same as the night before. I most certainly didn’t wanted to climb back into the car, but now able to see their face, having them both sober, and knowing that they haven’t done anything mean the night before (just uncomfortable), I decided to go against my will and hop in. This ride turns out to be quite the opposite from the night before. Rather than being an unpleasant ride, it turned out to be an extremely fun one. As we rolled toward Medellin, we stopped to pick up two other hitchhikers also going to Medellin, they offered me breakfast (this time food was food) and we stopped at a local waterfall to take a little dip in the cold water.

It took us all day to reach Medellin, and once we got there, I called Carolina which Thomas and I met in Sapzuro and I got to spend the night at her place. It sure was fun to see the family again, especially after all the fun we had with them.

I took a day of with them, mostly playing with the kids, and on the next day, I left for a day at El Peñón. Not wanting to waste money on public transportation, I walk up the mountain to reach the end of town. I didn’t know it but when Medellin built their new highway, this road lost all its traffic. I was a horrible spot to hitchhike. As usual, I didn’t wait too long to find someone heading 2km down the bumpy dirt road. When we arrived at their destination they told me in Spanish to wait a little bit and after about half-an-hour of work, they would bring me to Rio Negro. I shook yes, obviously not understanding what they had just told me and waved bye as I walked away. They stopped me and the girl asked me if I understood English. Seeing that I was much more comfortable in English, she repeated what they had previously said. I was great for me; I had a ride back into civilization.

A little down the road, I got picked up by a motorcycle. I told the driver I was going to El Peñón, but for some sort of reason, he brought me down another dirt road and back on the highway I had just came from, just a little more north. Unfortunately, I had to head back to my previous location to head back toward El Peñón. After half-an-hour wasted turning around, I found myself back in the exact spot I had being picked up by the motorcycle. Needless to say everyone in town was looking at me with an odd look. I had just passed in front of them hitchhiking, and there I was doing it again, going the same way.

When I first saw El Peñón I realised how nice it was to travel with my big heavy bag. This monolith standing out of the surrounding hills has a set of stairs climbing on the side of it (740 to be exact), eventually bring to a small tower where an amazing view over an incredibly complex lake awaited to be seen. The man-made lake flooded the near valleys and surrounded the multiple hills leaving behind hundreds of islands, peninsulas and bays.

El Penon might be quite amazing, but the view from the top tops it

When I got back to Carolina’s house, I noticed my feet were hurting more than usual. In fact, as I was working on the boat, I injured my foot in three different places. One dropping a jigsaw on my foot leaving a very uncomfortable hole in my foot, another under my foot that was starting to cure, and another that had three chips of metal stuck under my foot. As you can imagine, climbing 740 steps with steel chips under your foot get quite annoying. So, once back, I took a extra look at my foot, and saw those chips that were hurting me. After a few painful minutes, I got everything out, but my feet were still in pain, so I decided to take an extra day off and let my feet rest. That was perfect as I got to call my parents through Skype.

It was now time to keep ongoing; next stop Armenia. I decided to bypass Medellin as I stayed in the North end of the town, and needed to head south. And so, I walk to the nearest highway and raised my thumb. It took me 2h45min for a truck to stop. That being said, some people stopped to give me a few dineros and another stop to give a loaf of bread. The rest of the day was a little easier, but no easy. Waiting turned out to be a bit longer than anticipated, and I was starting to believe I wasn’t going to make it around Medellin by the end of the day. To add insult to injuries, no one knew the road I wanted to take existed. I was going to bypass the city by a small 45km dirt road that barely existed. That being said, one thing that my experiences have thought me is that a dirt road with no traffic is usually quite easy to hitch on. I waited half an hour sitting under the blazing Sun, a motorcycle stopped for me. Another 45 minutes later, another car stopped, this time, rather than leaving me in the middle of nowhere, he drove around for 2h down south; finally, I’m making progress.

Arriving at night, I had no place to stay, and wanting to get rid of my tent, for less weight, I decided to sleep without it. I found a bridge, cut a few palm leaves, made myself a bed with them and tried sleeping. The many noise kept me awake for a got period of time, but what killed my sleep was a huge 2” cockroach that creeped from under me. That is it; I’m using my tent, screw having less weight. I put up my tent, but barely slept.

The next day, with all the misery in the world, I managed to reach Armenia. I was supposed to stay at someone’s house, but it turns out there was some miss information. And so, as some rain was starting to fall, I realised I had no place to find shelter. I walked around town, and finally saw a closed restaurant with open public bathroom. I entered the bathroom, took a few paper towel, cleaned the floor, and slept on the bathroom floor for the night; my feet next to the bowl and my head under the urinal. It may not have being the nicest night, but I was protected from the menacing sky, and had a lock to prevent being bothered.

Not too comfortable, but at least I'm safe

I woke up quite early to avoid being seen by the restaurant owner, and not knowing exactly what I wanted to do, I hitched back north toward Valle de las Cocoras, the valley with the tallest palm trees (80m high). I got a taxi to stop, bring me to Salento through the rural back road of the coffee region, followed by a motorcycle to reach the end of the valley. The palm trees were quite impressive. The mix between their height and their diameter contrasted to make the palm tree look even taller. Unfortunately, all the tallest palm trees were on private properties, and couldn’t be visited without extra dollars. Still, I could take a few nice pictures.

These thin monsters can reach height up to 85m

After a few hours walking through the towering trees, I started heading toward my last destination; El Desierto de Tatacoa. I bypassed Armenia, and hitch a long ride across the mountains to reach the road heading to Neiva. Night was menacing, but I kept on hitching. Finally, I got a last ride going to Saldana.

The next morning, I kept on going. My bad luck with ride seemed to be still going, but luck finally stroke; my first 18-wheeler of Colombia. The inside of the truck was covered in a 70’s looking shaggy carpet. As for the driver, he was a guy who loved picking up hitchhiker, and had ease conversing. The drive stayed animated for the totality of it. He dropped me at the road intersection for the desert, but little did I know the road I was throwing myself onto. I had to cross quite a few kilometers on tiny dirt road, cut by a river. Traffic may have been barely existent, but it didn’t got me to quite. I got instantly the only motorcycle heading to the river, where a boat chartered me across. From there, I walk a few minutes to get a guy working in the fields stopping for me. Once in town, I managed to get the truck heading toward the next paved road, and what a ride it was. Once back on pavement, a motorcycle stopped for me. To my amazement, I barely waited a minute to get those ride despite the remoteness of the road, and without knowing it, I had reach Tatacoa.

Riding over 18 wheels

I grabbed my thing and left for a walk through the desert. It was hot, I was carrying my bag around, but I felt great; I felt back in the American West, I was back in the desert. As the trail was poorly indicated, I got lost in the multiple valleys of the desert. Of course, I could always see the road, but I didn’t know how to climb back up.

The clay was red, with a few white lines cutting across them. Some hills eroded in pyramid shaped as some others left towers sticking out of the landscape. It sure was a beautiful site, and a good reminder of why I love desert so much.

Just like to Old West

I eventually found a ride to Neiva, where I found someone to drive to the edge of town, and without much wait, a couple stopped to drive me an hour south. At location, they bought me a little bit of food, and I hitched my last ride.

As I was walking through town looking for a place to shelter for the night, the most unexpected thing happened. I saw a guy on the back of an 18-wheeler make gestures to tell me to join him. The truck didn’t stop so I could hop in. A minute later, the same guy ran toward me. He was heading back home, and was inviting me over. Not having money and starving he started walking through town, and got people to give him a little bit of food and drinks. Than thing got exiting, as we still needed to hitch to his home town. Being dark, and being two guys, hitchhiking wasn’t an option, so he tough me a new way of getting around. Something I had seen a few times in Colombia: Mulas. The concept is quite simple, hitchhiking, but without the OK from the truck driver. You hide behind a tree, next to a place where cars stop or slow down, and where a truck slows down, you run and jump on the trailer; and so we did. Obviously, the driver eventually saw us, and screamed at us: “¿Dondé vas?”, as my new friend screamed “Garzon”. So we had our ride. We lied down on the truck and looked at the night stars shining through the moonless night. As me got closer to Garzon, we entered a Tree tunnel that looked as if the root system of the trees were upside down; once more, what a sight!! Finally, in Garzon, I was invited to stay over for a few days, meat the neighbourhood, ate, shower, washed my cloth, etc.

Try this new mode of transportation: Mulas

I decided to stay over for a few days as everyone enjoyed my company. And so, on my second day in Garzon, I was invited to assist church. Obviously, I didn’t understand any of the offer, only accepted because I wanted to be nice, but it turns out it was one of the worst decision of my trip. Unlike what I though, church wasn’t an hour, nor two, but eleven hours of church. But if that wasn’t bad enough, all of it was in Spanish, so I couldn’t even understand what was going on, and it turns out to be eleven hour of straight church, and all that, between 5pm and 4am, with the requirement of an extra hour of driving back in town. Now I didn’t know what was going on, so I didn’t bring any warn cloth for the frisk mountain air, so sleeping during the ceremony, like half of the other attendees, was impossible. That being said, the experience was to some degree interesting. Out of the eleven long hours, four consisted of singing, which wasn’t too horrible, but also, to see those people turn into some sort of trance, and heading in front of the “stage” to start crying I don’t know what was definitely interesting to see. That being said, a one hour ceremony should have done the trick, and I do believe it is an interesting experience to see a church ceremony in other culture as they are very different from one another.

This experience also meant one less night of sleep. We got back by 5:30, and I woke up at 8am, not able to fall back asleep. This short night meant that hitchhiking wasn’t much of an option for me. It turns out to be quite nice since there was a party in the neighbourhood as the neighbour’s daughter was turning 1 year old, and of course, Gringo (my nickname) was invited. Now, for a lot of people, the world gringo might sound racist, but the way I see it, it’s a term used by local people to test a stranger. If the person feels offended by it, people will less-likely like that person, but on the other hand, if you play along, people will see you are good spirit and will treat you like one of them.

Enjoying a nice chat with a few of Garzon's people

After 3 days hanging around the neighbourhood, it was time to leave and head down toward Ecuador. The day passed by, and as it was approaching its ending, luck stroke by giving me an 18-wheeler. I ride with him for 6h and most of it during night, helping me make tremendous progress. When I finally got out, I walked through town and found myself a neat little abandoned house. It was a perfect way to finish my day since it rained all throughout my last ride, and I didn’t wanted to get wet.

On my last morning in Colombia, I barely had the opportunity to rise my thumb that some new happened; not only did a girl stop to pick me up (which is rare), but she was driving a motorcycle. I must say, I didn’t really know where to hold on to; I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. That being said, the ride itself was even less comfortable as the paved road left place to some of the worst road I’ve ever hitched on. Already being hard to hold the weight of my bag, the bouncing, lack on holds, and a footrest missing made the half-hour ride extremely demanding. But as I finally got out of this ride, things didn’t get much better. Barely five minutes later, I was picked up by a pickup truck. Being full, I was sent in the back. But, still on the dirt road for another 100km ,I to test to cushioning of my butt like never before,; and I got to say, I had reach its limit. After nearly two hours bouncing around, it was time to change country; Bienvenido en Ecuador!!

Changing country felt a little nicer as the road became paved, but for me, it wasn’t quite the end of my torture, my driver was in a hurry to get back home, in Quito, and there was no time to waste slowing down for speed bumps. For those in front, the seat took most of the hit, but for the lonely hitchhiker in the back, it wasn’t much comfort. Finally, as I entered Ecuador, I entered the rainy season, and as we climbed the mountains, the atmosphere got cooler and cooler and the rain started passing through the tarp over the back of the pickup. When I got to Quito, my butt was in great pain, I was wet and freezing; definitely not what you expect of the “tropics of the equator line”.

Not having any place to sleep in town, I decided to spend the 0,50$ for the bus heading toward El Monumento "Línea del Ecuador”, hoping to find a place to crash for the night. I was a fool thinking I would find something there as the monument was still in town. I had fewer and fewer idea on where and how to spend my night, so I decided to pay a visit to my friends, the police!! And with my best Spanish, I told them my story: “Hola! My name is Eric, and I’m from Canada. I just got in town, but have no money for a hotel or motel. I thought the monument was on the edge of town and that it would be possible to camp, but it appears that I was wrong. That being said, with the fog and the rain coming this way, I think I need a roof to shelter myself, do you know if there are any place where I can find protection and not be bothered by anyone?”

The two police officers looked at each other and first suggest me to sleep on the back seat of their car, but finishing their shift at 2am, it didn’t seem very good. In exchange, they contacted the security of the monument, and just like that, I was offered to stay in the park. The hitchhiker’s luck didn’t just stop there; I got to sleep in the security observation tower for the night, and in the morning, I got to visit the monument for free, and before the park open, so I had the park just for me. What a great way to start my trip in Ecuador.

Climbing into my private little surveillance tower

After a morning walking around the deserted monument, I started heading toward the edge of town. I was on the north end of town, and needed to go to the south end of Quito. There was no way I was going to walk all the way down, and without internet, I didn’t know which bus to take, my only option, was to exit by the north end of town, hitch to Santo Domingo, and hitch back to the Pan-American Highway on the south end of town, a 263km detour. The first part of my detour was nice, lots of Sun light and beautiful scenery, but as I got closer and closer to the south end of Quito, the Sun got erased by heavy cloud and rain hiding most of the scenery. This cloud covering Ecuador definitely meant I needed to start looking for a new road, a cloudless road.

One last step in my home hemisphere

Not knowing where to aim, I just decided to follow my driver without destination, and ended in Baños, a small town near the Amazon famous for its hot springs and its few waterfalls. I explored the valley, and as I realised it was rainy weather in this region, I decided to head back to the Pan-American where a few volcanoes might stick out of the clouds. As I was hitching back toward the center of the Andes, a first happened; a Couch Bus stopped to pick me up. The bus was free of people so I had the full bus for me; toilets, comfortable and spacious seats, free Wi-Fi, etc.

I was back at the intersection of the highway, but neither was I going north nor south, I decided to head toward the highlands of Guaranda. Heading in that direction meant I had to cross town and find a place to sleep. I looked and looked but couldn’t find an abandoned house to shelter myself from the menacing sky. Eventually, as I was crossing a sketchy part of town, I found a truck graveyard. I was saved. This looked like a good place to find shelter. I walked around the creepy “graveyard” and found an old bus. Not only did I have a roof for the night, but I had a long padded seat to sleep on. I got very lucky, since it rained during part of the night. This creepy hitchhiker’s paradise had one problem though; I had to make sure not to be caught in the morning. I have slept in enough location to know that in the Latin American Countries, people aren’t going to bother you, but still, I preferred waking at 5:30am and be a ghost then risking having to explain myself half asleep in Spanish why I’m trespassing.

A creepy hitchhiker's hotel

5am, time to wake up, time to leave this town. I walked with my thumb up, not expecting much as I was in the middle of town, but to my amazement, I got a ride halfway across town; perfect. Not long after, still walking across town, a bus picked me up and drove me to the next village, high in the mountains. There it was, the typical South America we see on pictures. To that point, South America seemed far from the typical 3rd world country we are thought at school, but wealthy countries trying their best to evolve, but on the highland of Guaranda, the locals are all dressed in traditional clothing, rubber boots, jeans, knitted poncho with a scarf and the traditional tuque. As I got a ride heading to Guayaquil, we rode through the cloud of the endless plateau only meeting a few Ecuadorian herding their wet sheep and alpacas.

We rode on the plateau for a little while. Eventually, the vegetation-less highlands left room for a coniferous hillside, a tropical valley and finally, the low fields where the locals cultivate rice. Unlike most of the roads I’ve hitched on, this one was relief-less and straight.

After another two rides, I climbed into a car and as I asked the driver where he was going, he responded with “Peru”. There it was; my last ride of Ecuador, a country made for hitchhikers. With an average of only 7 minutes of waiting, a maximum wait of 20 minutes and an average 85 kilometers per car, Ecuador is definitely one of the easiest countries I’ve visited.

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Country's Statistics

Colombia (first entry)

Number of nights : 14

Numbers of days on the road: 8

Percentage of invitation at night : 64%

Overall waiting time : 23h

Average wait : 23min

Longest wait : 2h 45min

Male vs female : 74% male – 3% female – 23% mixed

Total amount of rides : 61

Average spending per day : -6,75$/day