I had it all figured out: I’d walk to the closest metro station from our wonderful free camping spot in Santiago, ride the line to the bus station, take a two-hour bus trip west to Valparaiso, explore the town during the day, and return home the same way.
Valparaiso in Chile
Valparaiso and Santiago de Chile
Then, our friends Abigail, Richie, and Zoe from Meat Around The World were interested in joining me. Great! Last minute, we realized that if we rented a car for the day, Mark and Maya would be able to come as well, plus this would give everyone more freedom and comfort than a return journey by public transportation.
Part of our group in Valparaiso (Photo courtesy of Richie Gubler)
The reason we didn’t want to take our own campers was the bad reputation Valparaiso has regarding petty crime, car beak-ins, and tire slashings of foreign-plated vehicles. All of us had just installed new tires in Santiago, so now was definitely not a good time to take extra risks. There certainly is a grimy side to this port city.
Screenshot of Valparaiso in iOverlander – all the red and white warning signs mark robberies, break-ins, or tire slashings!
After a late start, a two-hour drive on fantastic toll roads, and finding a safe and covered parking spot for the rental car, the six of us set off on foot to discover the colors, murals, and old ascensores (elevators) of Valparaiso during the afternoon. Here is a photo gallery of our day as full-blown tourists.
(As always, hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Pastel-colored row houses
View from Cerro Concepcion
Look over the harbor of Valparaiso
A stately hotel on top of the hill
Colorful alley on Cerro Concepcion
Murals abound in alleys and streets
Girls will be girls – Zoe easily makes friends everywhere she goes.
Salar de Uyuni – or Salar de Tunupa (the local Quechua people prefer to call the area by its original name) – is located 20 minutes north of Uyuni and is the largest salt flat in the world. It measures 12,000 km2, which, to put it in perspective, is a bit over 1/3 the size of Belgium and four times the surface of Luxembourg. For Americans, Rhode Island fits three times into this Salar and Delaware twice – and New Jersey is twice as big.
(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Salt, salt, and salt
Mark and “our” Land Cruiser on the Salar
Cool textures
Salt, as far as you can see
Many overlanders prefer to drive and camp on this white, vast surface, usually stopping when they can’t see anything but salt around them. A trip on the salt flat with your own vehicle offers a lot of freedom, solitude, and fun, but it also requires protecting the undercarriage from all that destructive salt and giving it a detailed and thorough cleaning in the end. In the dry season. Once the wet season has started in Bolivia, taking your own home on wheels is a bad idea, because the (wet) salt will get anywhere and destroy everything it touches, over time. Plus, some parts of this area are closed when (too) wet.
Reflection pool on the salt flat
With that in mind, Mark, Maya, and I booked a tour for the day. Even better, we arranged a private excursion for our little family to give Maya (who was recovering from a nasty dog bite) enough comfort and space, and to allow us the privacy and freedom of a trip tailored to just the three of us. We could tell our guide wherever we wanted to go on the Salar, what to skip or limit, and whenever we wanted to move on. And, to be honest, at twice the price of a group tour ($120 for the three of us instead of $60), we believed it was worth the splurge. 😊
Eusevio eating coca leaves to stay alert
Prepping for lunch
Maya had a lot of space during the drives
Driving on the salt flat
Our tour started at 10:30am, would finish after sunset, around 8pm, and included lunch and drinks. We decided to skip stop one (the Train Cemetery where we had been living, exploring, and photographing for four days already) and made stop two (salt processing tour and artisanal markets) shorter, for an earlier start on the Salar. A massive rain storm was threatening, so I wanted to stay ahead of that!
Salt block from the Salar
Packaging the salt for consumers
Once on the salt flat, the fun could begin! We stopped by the Ojos de Agua, which our Spanish-speaking guide, Eusevio, called the “breath” of the Salar. Water bubbled up from below, as if something was breathing under the surface.
Bubbles in the Salar
Ojos de Agua
He encouraged us to employ a local guy to take “forced perspective” photos of us and Maya. Since that was affordable, we obliged.
Despite its famed high temperatures, Mark and I were looking forward to visiting the Tatacoa Desert after leaving Bogota. This off-road adventure promised to bring us peace, beauty, and remoteness. The only problem: our recently punctured and fixed tire. Would it hold up on the bumpy, challenging roads?
(As always, hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Toll booth heading south
Construction
Police check
No way to go by this truck in town
Narrow, dirt roads and oncoming traffic
Heading towards the desert on narrow roads – luckily, it was quiet
Getting to the start of the desert loop was exciting in itself. After a couple of toll roads, road construction delays, another landslide hold-up, a police checkup, a small town, and narrow dirt roads, Thirsty Bella had to cross a narrow, 100-year-old railroad bridge and traverse two windy, one-way tunnels where opposing traffic was not visible. We kept our fingers crossed when entering these dark, water-filled passageways and, once inside, honked and flickered our headlights for good measure. We made it okay! It took us an entire day to drive from Silvania to Tatacoa.
A dark hole!
Inside the tunnel
Popping out on the other side
Tricky plates on the old bridge
View of the river – they are often muddy in Colombia
Ready to cross the old railroad bridge
Continuing our trip towards the desert
Crossing a few rivers in the process
This desert area in Colombia is relatively small, yet, we hoped to stay a handful of days because we craved peace, solitude, and relaxation.
In the middle of March, our trio decided to head south and then east from Jerico, high into the mountains, to visit natural hot springs… The road was long, windy, and not without obstacles, but our biggest disappointment was arriving at our camping spot in the rain, with no visibility.
(Hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
A windy road climbing up, up, up
As often, mountain roads in Colombia aren’t great…
Lots of construction areas
Delays and cleared-up landslides
And, where there are mountains, there is rain!
But we woke up with this: blue skies and a view of our surroundings.
Imagine our surprise when we spotted this snow-covered volcano on our early morning walk with Maya.
We had to do a double-take!
At 7am and at an elevation of over 13,000 ft (4,000m), it was cold!
The flora was interesting as well.
I was enamored by all the flowers that bloomed at this altitude.
Flowering plant
These little flowers had frost on them
We couldn’t get enough of this view – Can you see Thirsty Bella?
The other side of the valley. Clouds started to roll in again.
Maya had to pose with the volcano and our camper in the background.
My favorite shot of Maya running on the path – she didn’t seem out of breath!
After our morning walk and breakfast, we drove to El Sifon hot springs. It wasn’t even 9am yet and the volcano was already covered by clouds, with fog starting to roll in. But the first few miles were still photogenic, with lots of waterfalls along the road.
We saw many waterfalls on our drive to the hot springs, even further up the mountain.
The weather was still nice this early, but the volcano was already shrouded by clouds.
Well above the tree line…
And then the clouds, mist, and rain arrived – for the rest of the day!
Parking area for the walk down to the hot springs
Where is the trail?
We managed to find a dirt road at some point and descended about 1,000ft towards the river and the natural hot springs.
We had the area to ourselves!
Hot river
It was a pity that the sun didn’t reach down here.
We scanned the steaming river for the best place to take a dip.
We found our spot: under the two waterfalls was a small pool.
This was a very scenic area, despite the steam.
Maya was not allowed in the hot water (our rules).
Maya behaved well and patiently waited on dry ground.
After our soak – the contrast between the water and air temperature was huge!
One last shot of El Sifon hot springs!
Then, the walk back up was inevitable. It took forever, since the air was thin and we needed to stop often to catch our breath, especially me.
Back at the parking lot, life went on as always.
On our second morning, I encouraged Mark to take a photo of me and my book, Plunge, in front of the volcano…
That’s when we noticed a slight change in the appearance of Nevado del Ruiz…
Most of the snow had melted and it was spewing steam!
The photos underneath were taken around the same time, early in the morning, two days in a row. Do you notice the difference in the volcano’s appearance?
Our camper looks tiny in this immense landscape.
Can you see the difference between the two moods of the volcano!
Mark took this fabulous shot.
Mark, Maya, and I came here in our truck camper Thirsty Bella to check out the hot springs and we received these spectacular views as a bonus! It was one of the quietest places we camped in Colombia. We did have to leave after two nights, though, because it was difficult to sleep and breathe at 13,000ft (4,000m) altitude and the condensation inside the camper was so bad that water kept dripping down from the ceiling!
(A week later, people from the surrounding villages had to be evacuated because of the heightened risk of a volcanic eruption and access to this area became restricted. Until now, nothing dangerous has happened. Read a CNN article here.)
360-degree view on our morning walks with Maya
Curious about a previous ten-year chapter in our nomadic lives, which includes eight years aboard a 35-foot sailboat in the tropics with dogs, check out my compelling, inspiring, and refreshingly honest travel memoir:
Plunge – One Woman’s Pursuit of a Life Less Ordinary
All three towns have been declared pueblos patrimonios in Colombia (because they stand out for their cultural heritage) and are worth a visit. Medellin is centrally located for attractive day or weekend trips to these destinations in the Department of Antioquia. Or, in our case, for continued travels to explore Colombia. A fourth highlight, Guatapé, sits two hours east and was part of my Medellin post. Santa Fe de Antioquia can be found an hour and a half to the northwest. You reach Jericó after a three-hour southward drive and Jardin is a tad further away, about 3.5 hours to the south.
Historic towns around Medellin
Santa Fe de Antioquia
As a former capital of Colombia and a national monument, Santa Fe de Antioquia is a popular place. It is a beautiful, eye-catching, and photogenic city of 23,000 inhabitants. But there is one problem. For us anyway. Its climate is tropical and humid, due to its low elevation in the Cauca River valley and proximity to the equator. It was in the mid-nineties when we arrived (35°C)!
Driving to Jardin
Scenery on the way to Jardin
Hot parking spot in Santa Fe de Antioquia
(As always hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Our first “meeting” with the town didn’t go well. Checking the map for the best route to a free overnight parking spot we had found in our free app iOverlander, we’d picked a one-way road towards our site, thinking it would be wide enough and less littered with haphazardly parked cars. We were right, but… the road went steep uphill and, without any indication, was blocked by road work! We couldn’t go around it. We couldn’t turn around. We couldn’t back up, down this steep and bumpy road without visibility. All the while, motorcycles kept passing us (they could go through) and lined-up cars behind us kept honking.
I enabled a neighbor’s help to open the locked gate of his driveway and guided Mark to safely turn around. We headed back the way we came and my husband was ready to abandon our planned visit. I persisted. We were all sweating (and panting), there was no shade anywhere, and options to camp were limited. On foot, I checked out a parqueadero (parking lot) that abutted the historic center. Big buses and trucks were parked there, so we would fit. We just needed to navigate one more narrow road. Mark obliged and we hid inside our camper, fans on full speed, for the rest of the afternoon.
Night scene
Lit-up historic buildings
Cute courtyard
Door at night
Well taken care of buildings in town
Church on the main plaza
When the temperature dropped slightly and darkness set in, the three of us quickly walked through the center of town. Unfortunately, the moods didn’t improve. Being kept awake all night by arriving and departing buses, garbage trucks, and dump trucks didn’t help the situation by morning. Mark had had it with this place, so I ventured back into the historic part early and for just one hour. Then, we moved on. Did I mention it was Mark’s birthday?
Nun walking the streets – my artist friend Laurie made a painting of this photogenic scene
Before experiencing Medellin and environs, we first had to get there – and find places to camp! After our little adventure in Florián, we had a long drive, not so much in miles as in time and bad roads.
Medellin in Colombia
Medellin and surroundings
“Isn’t Colombia famous for its toll roads,” you ask. I would think so, based on the number of them – and they’re pricey relative to local standards. Yet, nobody talks about them. The main reason I mention toll roads here, however, is because some most of them suck. At least north and east of Medellin. They contain potholes, speed bumps, shifted tarmac, wide cracks, dips, and gaps – and you have the privilege to pay for hitting the obstacles. Hard. Because, you know, the speed limit is all of a sudden much higher on these “highways.”
That is my long-winded way to say that we hit a pothole really, really badly. Neither of us had seen it – I had my eyes on my tablet writing a message (since we were on a smooth toll road, right?) and Mark was staring at the navigation screen to check a potential turn-off.
This is a toll road
At the time, we only discovered that the backside of our camper (a structural problem we thought we’d fixed in the US) had become separated again, something we had to fix ASAP. Later, we discovered other issues with the truck as a result of this mistake and the massive impact of the camper and truck bed colliding. From then on, it has been ALL eyes on the road ALL the time…
It took us two days and a loud night along the “highway,” before we reached Rio Claro. We hoped to relax here for a few days, visit a national park, and enjoy swimming in the clear river as – at this low elevation – it was quite hot and humid. We’d quickly stopped at Hacienda Napoles as well, known from Pablo Escobar movies and documentaries. It was closed that day – and expensive, so we’d pass anyway.
Rio Claro upon arrival
We arrived at a recommended campsite along the Rio Claro river around 5pm and took a refreshing swim and cold outdoor shower. Then, I had a translation job. But the cell service was very hit or miss and it took me hours to make little progress.
Maya loves meeting cows
Everything was soaking wet after the storm
Rio Claro after the rain storm
That night, a huge thunder and lightning storm arrived (which had Maya hiding behind our pillows again). In the morning, the river had turned brown and the internet remained elusive. We drove a few hours to a mirador (viewpoint) in the mountains, where I had to work against the clock to get the assignment finished. Talk about stress. A loud and sleepless night followed.
Our long-anticipated destination
Mark, Maya, and I were excited to finally meet Susan and John in person. It was a long time coming. Expats in Colombia, their lifestyle and travels (in country and abroad) had always intrigued me and I’d been following their blog Latitude Adjustment for many years. When they moved from Medellin to El Retiro a couple of years ago, it all sounded so nice that I wanted to check out their town as well.
After enjoying Villa de Leyva, the end of January, the plan was to embark on another off-the-beaten-track adventure. But, as we wrapped up an extended stay in our favorite Colombian pueblo patrimonio, we faced two possible issues: the weather forecast predicted rain which could make the dirt roads impassable and we were on a deadline, because we wanted to visit our friends Susan and John in El Retiro for a handful of days, before they’d leave on a trip in the middle of February and would have other guests prior to that. Plus, we were in the midst of dealing with a vehicle extension and didn’t know if this would require a last-minute stop in Medellin.
Tiered waterfalls in Florián
Could we fit in a multiple-day side trip to Florián without encountering muddy roads, would the challenging detour be worthwhile, and would we have enough time left to make the two-day drive and visit Rio Claro on the way to El Retiro?
Map Colombia
Florián in Santander, Colombia
Few Colombians have heard of Florián, located in the middle of the mountains of the Santander department. Wikipedia in English doesn’t have much info but the Spanish page has a bit more data. The town is known for its multi-tiered waterfall, which tumbles out of a cave. It sounded cool but would take us a full day to reach; the last four hours over bouncy, slow, dirt roads.
(As always, hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Mountain road
Pretty views along the drive into the mountains
Rocky road surfaces
A busy stretch – if that car can drive here, we can!
Narrow, one-lane roads to reach our destination
Leaving Florián the same way we came
Mark stumbled across this destination a few months ago, probably seeing photos by a fellow overlander on Facebook. He pinned it in Google maps, which is how we now compile lists of worthwhile destinations. And, by reading in our fat South America Lonely Planet.
When we arrived, exhausted and shaken, we parked along the main square for the night. We walked around town and to a viewpoint of the valley, wondering where the waterfall was located. We surely thought we’d have seen – if not heard – it by now. That’s when we discovered there was nothing but a trickle, none of it visible from a distance. To say we were disappointment is an understatement!
After a long day on the road with the necessary stress and quarrels, I was in a bad mood when Thirsty Bella rolled into Villa de Leyva, located in the Colombian department of Boyacá. We pulled into a free parking lot, which in my mind would be level, covered in soft grass, and sprinkled with fellow overlanders. I looked forward to finally sitting outside in our camping chairs and having a chat with like-minded travelers, since this town is on the tourist map.
(Click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Driving into Villa de Leyva
At least nobody was parked along the streets!
Approaching the parking lot where we’d camp
In reality, it took us a while to get relatively level on our wooden boards, nobody else was there, the green from the photos were poky weeds, and I got eaten alive by nasty no-see-ums in the process of getting settled. Tons of bumpy bites erupted; they would itch for weeks. Never have expectations!
Walking towards town along the tree-lined parking lot
Luckily, once we strolled over the cobblestones and towards the enormous square for the first time, despite wearing flipflops (note to self: sturdy shoes required), we fell in love with this clean, attractive, and historic town. We stayed the entire last week of January, catching up on internet work and exploring Villa and surroundings. The climate was perfect and hiking opportunities abound, but the following are the main reasons for our fondness of this pueblo patrimonio.
Cobblestone streets
The massive plaza
Careful where you walk!
Our camping spot
Thanks to our free app iOverlander, we zoomed in on this free parking spot along the edge of town, moving once to get more sun on our solar panels. We had plenty of space around us and as long as we didn’t spend much time outside in this bug-populated field, all was good. We soon learned to constantly wear long clothes and socks and shoes. Against the biting insects and to avoid sprained ankles on the cobblestones.
First spot – too shady
Our parking spot for a week
Laundry by hand
Our location was perfect to experience this wonderful village and to make us feel like locals. It was a two-minute walk to a dumpster, mere seconds to visit a hairdresser ($6), the main square was situated about five minutes away, as well as a plethora of restaurants, our favorite bakery needed ten minutes to be reached, and we could fill our tanks with spring water for free a couple of blocks away. Donations are encouraged.
Cute entryway
Filling Bella with spring water
One of the many hairdressers in Villa de Leyva
Time for a haircut
When we topped up again before leaving, a parked car caused us to round one corner a tad too wide. The ladder of our camper took some rooftiles down. We stopped, talked to the owners of the gate, and reimbursed them the $20 worth in damage.
About a year and a half ago, Mark and I (and our friends Duwan and Greg) visited Bisbee in southeastern Arizona. Other than sightseeing and getting a good feel for this historic town’s vibe, we looked at houses for sale. Yes, there was a time that we might have gotten serious about the prospect of owning a “real” home. But, us being wandering spirits, picky, and frugal made us pass on Bisbee, a town we enjoyed exploring. I blogged about those impressions and experiences here.
(As always, hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Entrance to a magic show
A door that hides magic?
This door/gate must be one of a few to get into the house.
Old fire station
It was in this picturesque town that I took a few photos of doors, thinking that, one day, I would join the Thursday Doors blog hop. Yeah, sometimes it takes me a while to follow up on thoughts and ideas. 🙂
Our arrival in Baja California, Mexico, was delayed by six weeks, because we decided to work for a month in the Phoenix area (Arizona, USA) after spending more money than anticipated on the cross-country drive from east to west. We also had a few important phone calls requiring unwavering internet and we needed an extra two weeks to prep our camper for the trip.
The majestic Sea of Cortez
Soon after crossing the border in mid-January, we decided Mark should fly back to Massachusetts for a family matter. To accommodate that impromptu trip, we “rushed” south on the peninsula and prepared for his imminent return. Maya and I stayed at a campground in Loreto (Rivera Del Mar) during his ten-day absence.
(As always, hover over or click on the photos to read their captions.)
The Malecon in Loreto
Loreto: a cute, historic, and colorful town
The Mission in Loreto
After all those arrangements and adjustements, you can imagine that we were more than ready and excited to take “a break from life” and start our Baja adventures. On February 1st, we filled our truck camper, T&T, with drinking water, propane, and food, emptied our sewage tanks at the campground, and headed south for a beach vacation along the Sea of Cortez. We spent one night at Juncalito Beach to get a decent start the next morning. The road to our destination in the Agua Verde area would be slow, treacherous, and mind blowing; a perfect introduction to Baja’s roughness and beauty.
Camped along the beach in Juncalito
A calm bay at Playa Juncalito
As expected, the single-track dirt road contained sharp turns, potholes, small rocks, and gravel. Some parts were steep and nerves of steel were required. Mark did a great job bringing us down to the coastline, where the track turned into the usual Baja secondary road: washboard, sand, and gravel. The cloudy, drizzly weather was unusual.
The cloudy and drizzly approach to the Agua Verde coastline
Slow and careful drive, back up!
Hopefully nobody is coming from the opposite side!
We have been perpetual nomads since 2003 – sailing, camping, RVing, house and pet sitting – and are currently roaming about South America in a truck camper with our rescue dog, Maya. As lifetime adventurers, we are self-employed and maintain a tight budget. This blog is about all that – and more – to inspire a life less ordinary. Don’t dream but do! 🙂
