DISCLAIMER: This is a real-life story, nothing more, nothing less. Just like when sharing a previous, relatively scary experience about a car burning out next to us in a remote area of the Baja Peninsula, Mexico, a year ago, I’m not looking for sympathy, concerns, warnings, or criticism. Also, like the previous story, this one has a good ending. Bad things happen everywhere. We are aware of that and realistic about it. In the twenty years of being nomads, this was the very first time we felt unsafe. And we do not blame it on Colombia or its people.
(As always, hover over or click on photos in galleries to read their captions.)
The Setting: Gramalote Viejo, Norte de Santander
After spending about a week in Playa de Belen in the department of Norte de Santander, Mark, Maya, and I drove many hours into the mountains, up and over terrible roads consisting of rocks, gravel, bumps, and potholes to reach Gramalote Viejo in time for Christmas. Our friends Sheri and Jeff had already arrived in their truck camper. They drive faster and had less errands to run.
We parked by the spooky remains of a church, on cracked pavement with weeds poking through. Next to us sat the ruins of a town square and a dilapidated gazebo we repurposed as our happy hour patio.
A peek behind the slanted, still existing church façade revealed old crypts with human bones, most of the cubby holes plundered. Vegetation had taken over the church property and an eerie atmosphere lingered.
