south-america – Nómada [con] Rumbo

Termalismo: Hot Springs in the Eje Cafetero (Colombia) Part 1

Well, well, well. Time to start my recap series. The first two months of this year were full of travel. I spent all of January in Brazil and February revisiting some gems in Colombia. My posts most likely won’t be in chronological order but rather highlights as I feel inspired to share.

After last year’s February travel success, I had to spend my birthday month traveling again this year. Once again, I made catching up with friends the guiding light of my route. Lucky me, they live in different parts of Colombia. So, I got to revisit 3 capitals: Bogota (THE capital of Colombia), Medellin, and Manizales.

In this post, I’m going to break down some gems in the Eje Cafetero. I like to call it the Coffee Country of Colombia (because, alliteration). I’ll start with one of its capitals: Manizales. After a week in Medellin, I chose not to take a bus or plane straight to Manizales. I took a smaller bus to cross Antioquia and reunite with my friend Carin in Jardin.

While discussing our reunion, we had gone back and forth about where we would go to take advantage of our new lease on life as digital nomads. On one hand, neither of us had been to the Colombian Pacific Coast (Chocó). However, if we were going to meet in Jardin, that would be farther from our set-off point so, we compromised to visit an area I had some experience with. I didn’t need to be convinced to go back because for me, Coffee Country is best country.

This was the route option laid out by my wonderful friend, including the times we could go and the prices available. The trip from Jardin to Manizales was supposed to take 5 and a half hours.

Carin helped plan and coordinate an adventure for two remote-working ladies. Her organization and practical mindset were the tools that my more spontaneous style needed to make everything work. Having a timeline was key, especially since this would be my last hurrah in Colombia before my flight from Bogota back to the States.

Jardin itself is a verdantly scenic mountain village right on the edge of Coffee Country (official map above). It attracts international tourists year-round, and for good reason. It may not be an official part of the Eje Cafetero, but it’s surrounded by farmland including coffee farms that form a big part of local culture and identity. It’s always a joy to visit. For the sake of proximity, budget, and practicality (plus a bit of nostalgia), we decided to spend 5 days there before going east.

The iconic Jardin church
A view from just outside of town
Any wonder why it’s called “Garden” in Spanish?
My friend showing me around town.

In spite of a week of mostly perfect weather, lightning, thunder and heavy rain kept us up the night before the ride to Manizales. This came as no surprise since one of the consequences of global warming in Colombia has been the rise of long droughts and unpredictable torrential rainfall outside of the usual rainy/dry seasons. The problem is, there are only a couple routes in and out of Jardin. One of those routes is through “trocha” – muddy off-roading. This was the only way Carin had taken before.

When we rolled out of bed by 5 am, there was a feeling of foreboding. We had bought our tickets for the van to Manizales ahead of time. If it went off-road, chances are the road would be closed due to the heavy rain. I was anxious to check that the trip wouldn’t be canceled. So, I charged out, umbrella in hand, to mall walk all of 5 blocks to the tiny terminal area. I saw a bus to Medellin was already pulling away from the Rapido Ochoa garage. Everybody seemed to think I was crazy for worrying (small town people don’t worry, as God always provides). It turned out, we’d be on the other road out of the town. Crisis averted.

The van involved a short but brutal, winding mountain path that actually gave me motion sickness. I’d never puked in a bag before and seriously hope I never will again. But that aside, it was a smooth trip, and we made it to the Manizales terminal in record time.

Manizales Trip Summary

Land transportation from Jardin to Manizales: 80k COP for a shared van (pay in El Portal, on Calle 8, and get lunch or a snack while you’re there!)
We left at 6:30 am and were there by 10:30 am, shaving a full hour and a half off of the expected travel time.

From Manizales Terminal to Santa Rosa del Cabal: 13k COP for a small bus (Empresa Arauca)

Lodging: 3 bed apartment (Booking) in La Enea neighborhood (ideal for hiking and contact with nature)

Getting Around in the City: local buses (Gran Caldas) – 3k COP (though you can see the fare written, and some buses cost less)
-Teleférico (cable cars): a bit limited, they can take you from one end of the city to the other, through the bus terminal or downtown. It’s great for the highlights of “touristing” – the views and the experience.
-Taxis – we didn’t have to rely too much on them since public transportation in the city passed often and was reliable. Still, they aren’t the most expensive option – we paid 14k to travel 9 km from the Bus station to our apartment.
Highlights: -El Bosque City Park
-Termales del Otoño and Acquaparque (just outside of the city)
-El Centro – the heart of the city
-Chipre – the best view of the city (when it isn’t cloudy)
-El Cable – limited but practical public transportation and a rush to see the city from above
-the architecture and cultural attractions
-the hospitality and politeness of the locals

Where to Stay

I’ve had the pleasure of staying in Manizales twice now. The first time was during a solo travel adventure in 2019. It was at the tail-end of my Semana Santa week-long vacation, so peace and comfort were my focus. That’s how I ended up staying in Lodge Paraíso Verde. Living up to its name, it was a green paradise surrounded by lush mountain vistas of the city’s northern outskirts.

That was a perfect introduction to this city. I remembered the hospitality of the workers at the lodge. They helped organize an affordable taxi ride to get to the other side of the city and go to Termales del Otoño. The taxi driver was so nice, I kept his contact and called him again when it was time to go back to the bus terminal.

This time, Carin and I knew that we wanted to go to the hot springs. The first time, I wasn’t aware of “termalismo” or hot springs tourism, nor had I ever heard of the termales in Manizales, so the recommendation led to a revelation. Carin and I had been working hard and traveling harder; thus, our objective was to explore, get in touch with nature, and relax at some point while doing it. What better way than hot springs?

Since our goal was clear, when looking at booking options, we picked out something to the south of the city. Little did we know, we were uncovering a gem a casual tourist may not consider. La Enea is a residential neighborhood surrounded by serene trees and mountains. Being that it’s so suburban, we also found the accommodations less expensive. We spent about $76 usd (319,200 cop) to stay 3 nights in a 3-bedroom apartment. We needed good internet and our own spaces to work, which “el acogedor apartamento La Nubia” provided.

We were walking distance from a plethora of shops and local dining options (mostly standard fare: bakeries, fast food joints, delicious arepa stands, with a few niche options like (Colombian style) Chinese food and a rock bar).

That first day, I needed to work, so Carin set out and explored for the both of us. She discovered that the city was extremely walkable, even reminding her of Germany in the way city crosswalks are set up. While out, she was “adopted” by a local family that offered to take a picture of – and then with – her. Her first impressions: friendly, clean, safe, and organized!

Getting Around

While out and about, the locals were happy to answer our questions or point us in the right direction. The few times we got disoriented, we were directed by a local to look for the Gran Caldas bus. They explained that on the sign posted in the window we would see which direction it was headed – either out of the city towards the springs or towards the cable cars and the city center.

One of the first things we found out was that there was no need to waste money on taxis in Manizales. The local buses, particularly the Gran Caldas, have routes that connect the city from the center outward. That’s how we were able to save money on transport. Traffic also was nowhere near as bad as in crowded cities like Bogota and even Medellin at peak hours. The bus got us around pretty quickly and efficiently.

We could even use it to get across the highway to the forest that caught our eye on the taxi ride to our apartment. Of course, Carin found out firsthand that walking there was not a problem either. In fact, it was just as straightforward as asking a bus driver where to get off. The foot bridge over the highway was easy to reach and cross, and then it was all uphill from there. The Bosque Popular El Prado was the perfect break from a long day of lessons.

We took the bus to get to the Termales del Otoño hotel and after that to go back into town. We only needed to stay on that same bus till we reached the downtown cable station, Fundadores.

There, you can take the cable car for just $2,900 pesos per trip. I’ll be honest: we did this at night and while it was worth the experience, I was petrified. The distance covered by the hanging gondolas is long, the boxes seat about 6 people, and at one point, the line stopped with alarms sounding. Thank God we weren’t suspended in the middle of the cable, but can you imagine? It would have been better if I had done it in daylight like Carin had when she went out alone, but after an amazing 3rd day, I didn’t want to skip it (even if dangling in the sky makes my stomach drop).

Highlights and Attractions: Termalismo

Once I recovered from the ride (the next day), I was ready to explore!

Manizales combines all of the things I love about Colombian Coffee Country: friendly, helpful locals, clean, organized cities surrounded by idyllic towns, lush greenery, perfect temperatures, and natural wonders. Manizales itself is the most peaceful capital city. It’s another world compared to the hot, chaotic coastal cities like Santa Marta, Riohacha, and Cartagena. In my opinion, it’s a city that doesn’t get enough credit – and perhaps that lends to its appeal.

However, we weren’t traveling just to explore the city. Our aim was to enjoy the scenery, take hikes, and then soak in the hot springs. This sort of tourism has a name in Spanish: termalismo. If you look up the different tourist attractions in the area, it even has its own category: Hot springs tourism.

On the Manizales tourism website and app (https://visitmanizales.com/que-hacer-en-manizales/termalismo/), we discovered there were 3 main destinations under the “termalismo” category (not including Termales del Ruiz, located closer to the national park than to the city of Manizales). We also found out that the website – a smart resource, in theory – was not exactly up to date. This post can hopefully shed some light on what to expect if you are looking for hot springs in Manizales.

We took the Gran Caldas down the via a Gallinazo. Its last stop left us just outside of the Termales del Otoño hotel. Coincidentally, the hotel and its three pools were closed for a private event that day. That part was the only one I had visited in 2019. The day pass is cheap, but the luxurious hotel is quite pricey. There were still two other options to visit hot springs connected to el Otoño.

The first was the Ecotermales, a zen garden surrounding relaxing pools. There you can order food at the restaurant or even book a massage with the spa. The garden is teeming with flowers attracting hummingbirds and other colorful feathered friends. Although we were there before the official opening time, the kind attendants allowed us to enter and look around. We took full advantage, snapping pictures of the beautiful pools, the bonsai garden, the decorations. Still, this was all you could do there. There was no hike, contrary to what the website lists. It was better for rest and relaxation, and we wanted a little adventure. We ultimately decided that we would consider coming back after visiting the water park.

The Ecotermales people told us that we would either need to get a taxi or walk to the Acquaparque. We wanted a hike, so we went for it. The 30-minute hike did not disappoint with its views. We passed Finca Guayabito and felt like we were in Wisconsin, surrounded by dairy cows. On the way back from the park, we given a ride by the shuttle driver working for the hotel. He affirmed the impressive investment needed to have dairy cows in Colombia. The land was rich and owned by someone even richer. Outside of the park, across the road you could buy cheese and butter produced by that investment.

After hiking up some hills (just the workout we were looking for), we found the parking lot near the top. We were greeted by a friendly black and white kitty. Because it was Saturday, we had to pay 10k more than the usual price (60k instead of 50k – still only $14 USD). On the plus side, on the weekends it opens earlier; during the week, doors open at 12 pm. It worked out perfectly.

The park is shrouded in mist and overtaken by vivid vegetation. The information on the Manizales website painted a different picture. Clearly outdated, the price listed is about half the actual price. Many years have passed since the post was made showing a bare, open, somehow brighter version of the park. Its current version is better, more exotic, and the awnings are a practical addition considering the frequent rains.

I tried out one of the three slides. It was hard to work up the courage for several reasons: I didn’t have flip flops, for one thing. That made getting up the hill on the mossy walkway difficult. Getting up there was hard enough, but then psyching myself up to get in the icy waters (yes, the slides waters are not from the springs) was another challenge. I got a lot a water up my nose as I rushed down. It was fun, but getting up there to do it two more times was too much to ask.

We were also informed that the eco-trail was closed. Though the hike up the road had been nice, we were disappointed. Apparently the unseasonably heavy rains had done some damage and made it too dangerous for hiking. Oh well, if we ever go back, we will have something left to experience.

All in all, we had a relaxing day. At lunchtime, the menu had plenty to choose from. Carin went for the traditional agua de panela (brown sugar cane infused water) with an arepa, chorizo, and cheese. I went for something a little pricier, patacon and Neapolitan-style chicken with an arepa and salad and hot chocolate. The drinks helped us warm up. The cold rain had made it hard for us to get out of the pools.

We mostly lounged in the warm waters and made new friends. After our lunch, we got back in to get some tasty cocktails at the wet bar. We floated from pool to pool lazily, enjoying the contrast of cold raindrops and steamy water.

Once the weather had cleared up, we decided it was time to get back to Manizales. We had to make the most of our last full day in the city. Resting in the water had recharged our batteries, so no need to go back to the ecotermales. Our skin and hair felt super soft, our hands pruny from the hours spent in the hot springs. What a refreshing experience! With the shuttle, we got back to the hotel in a few minutes. We jumped straight on the Gran Calda bus headed back into the city to spend the afternoon and evening exploring.

Beach Day in Brazil: Reflections from Praia do Espelho

This journal excerpt is taken from week 4 in Brazil, January 25th, 2025. Since I named my blog “adventurer’s diary” I figured, why not post one of my journal entries? Along with some photos taken at this stunning destination.

This entry came 10 days after my time in Salvador. I arrived in Brazil on December 28th after sorting out the over-stay fine with Colombian immigration in Leticia. I took a motocarro to Tabatinga, the Brazilian border town, with my flight ticket bought, ready to go to Manaus. Or so I thought.

My entire time in Brazil, I had issues with GOL Linhas. I would buy a ticket online; they would say it was confirmed. Then I would find out my payment was refunded. With no email notification. Both in Tabatinga and Manaus I ended up having to buy the ticket in the airport. I never did figure out why. Was it due to the security on my credit card (which is supposed to be ideal for travel – come on Aviator Mastercard!)? Or the hold they put on my bigger transactions after a random case of fraud.

Whatever the case, I showed up at the airport thinking I had a flight and found out it was canceled. Lucky for me, there was another flight leaving about an hour after the flight I showed up for. So, it all worked out.

That was to get to Manaus. After attempting and failing to buy my Manaus-Salvador flight ahead of time, I knew what to expect. I made sure to get an airbnb close to the Manaus airport. Then, I went to buy my ticket in person.

This was just a sample of the setbacks I experienced. By making a plan, I finally could have this transcendent day at the beach – Praia do Espehlo, some 2 hours from where I was staying in Porto Seguro.

When you enter, bring happiness, when you go, leave yearning.

Here’s a slice of my experience:

I’m at Praia do Espelho with a tour group. The tour cost 120R$ (~21 USD). The ride here on the tour van was bumpy, but I’ve been so tired, I still fell asleep.

It’s hard to describe vibes and generalize my experience with Brazilian people. On one hand, groups I have been haphazardly integrated into have been hit or miss – sometimes coming off as cold or discordant. I guess in those rare cases where I was invited to join close friends, I felt like there was little room for a third wheel. Or maybe I’m not confident enough in Portuguese to break the ice. I could just as well be misjudging the situation based on the little I can see on the surface.

All the same, Brazilians have been some of the most helpful and patient people I’ve encountered. Even on the street. One of the silly little things that has stood out to me after so much time in Colombia is how people actually respect pedestrian crossing. Even in the States that is insanely rare – you’re at a crosswalk, and the drivers stop to signal you to cross. Even bike riders take heed. The sense of awareness of other people and road rules seems stronger here.

What scares me is the intensity of the men. If they find you cute, they shoot their shot at all costs. I’ve gotten three or more new contacts because of this. You have to set boundaries, but I learned that well in Colombia. Been there, done that, could write a book on it. You can’t take all the flattery too seriously because that is typical modus operandi. A thinly veiled tactic to convince you they’re sincere.

But, on the other hand, it’s been nice not being pegged as gringa right off here. Brazilians come in all shapes and sizes. And they’re aware of that. It helps that I also speak Spanish. Still, I try not to default to speaking it. That has made being spontaneous more challenging. But that’s the idea. I’m mainly asked if I’m “Argentina” because most tourism comes from there. After all, it is summer here in the Southern Hemisphere. It’s high season in beach towns (so not great for my wallet). I imagined that but still didn’t prepare. Sometimes you just have to do things, accepting all consequences of your rash decisions.

Brazilian music is fire. You don’t hear Colombian music much or any music in Spanish. And, why would you, I guess? You rarely hear Brazilian music in Colombia. Brazilian’s have such a rich variety of musical styles and rhythms of all types that unless you happen to be in a community where Hispanic people live (mainly of the Venezuelan diaspora), you aren’t likely to hear Vallenato or merengue, or even reggaeton for that matter.

That means full immersion.

I just explored the beach. We got here around 10 am and leave at 3 pm.

The beaches here are like natural swimming pools: few big waves, soft, fine sand, lukewarm water – cool but not cold enough to shiver. I walked along 4 different small beaches connected to this stretch, sectioned by rocks, cliffs, and reefs. I saw people snorkeling, and I imagined all the colorful fish, coral reefs, and anemones they could see.

I floated on my back, peacefully rocked by steady waves. No rocks under foot in most of the sections. Some are covered by black sand that ripples when you walk on it, others orange, almost red when mixed with the deep blue water; the sand turns black and seems to pulse like something alive when you step on it. In other parts of the beach stretch the sand looked almost tanned ivory, shining in the sun, lending credence to the name: Mirror beach. All of the sand is smooth, inviting when wet, hot from the Brazilian summer sun, but I followed the shoreline to soak my feet as I went.

Now I’m listening to a three-man band play what sounds like Brazilian zydeco. They play the same type of accordion popular in Louisiana. There’s a guy playing a triangle, and the accordionist is also the singer. I think I’m in heaven: sipping my obligatory (over-priced) cocktail, a mint-flavored piña colada, taking it all in from my wooden beach chair in front of the ocean under a parasol…

Overstaying in Colombia

Today is Christmas, and instead of spending time with loved ones, opening presents, feeling abundance, I’m recovering from a beaten down immune system, sitting in a cheap hotel room in the middle of Leticia, Colombia. I was supposed to be spending Christmas on a boat cruise through the Amazon. However, I made a huge mistake, and I am hoping my experience can be of use for others that might also encounter a similar situation.

I have been spending a lot of time in this beautiful country. As a tourist with no visa, I knew that my days were numbered. 180 days is the standard, with a total of 90 days you can spend in two separate entries (or divide it up how you will). This year has been somewhat hectic, and though I haven’t been officially living in Colombia, I did use it as a homebase before deciding to go home and save money in August. I had calculated my days, but I wasn’t 100% certain where I stood in the system.

Generally, upon reentry, the migration officer is supposed to review your days, stamp your passport, and write the exact number of days allowed to stay in the country. I know this because last year when I was in a similar situation, the officer told me exactly how many days I had left and warned me that if I didn’t leave before that time, I should pay for an extension (salvoconducto) to avoid bigger problems — like the ones I’m facing now.

This time was different. I still remember how the guy looked at me. With disdain, indifference — and this strange air that he knew he was taking a shortcut by writing 90 days and didn’t care how that might affect me in the end. Sure, he may have been tired, and a lot of people come and go at this time of the year. But once I showed my passport to get my exit stamp, initially I was told there must be a mistake on their end.

When I got to Leticia early on Christmas Eve, I found a very mediocre (to avoid a stronger word) airport with little guidance. It was the taxi drivers, ironically, that told me where I should get my passport stamped (no signs indicating that there was a migration office in the ugly building that honestly resembled a bus terminal more than an airport). That was after I had consulted the internet and found I would need to go downtown to the migration office — the information on the internet always seems to contradict, and that’s part of why I’m writing this now.

Ironically, when you enter Leticia, they charge a 45k COP tourist fee that is supposed to support the local processes, sustainability, and infrastructure for tourism. Nobody talked about this before I got there either, but it was required in order to leave the airport.

I went back into the airport and entered the migration area. There was an office with one guy working. I found him busy trying to approve an entry stamp for two Guatemalan ladies with long, tired faces. Avianca had rerouted their flight, and now they were stuck entering Colombia officially when it was supposed to be just a layover. Although I empathized with their situation, I was impatient because as usual the process was far too slow, with the guy calling and calling and typing and carrying on, rehashing the same details as if they had not explained what had happened clearly enough.

I had left my bags with the taxi driver and two other foreign women I had decided to join to split the taxi, so I was even more aware of how long it was taking just to get a stamp. The ladies had time, plenty as they would need to wait for the next flight, and they also told the officer that if I just needed an exit stamp, he could take care of that and then get back with them (bless their souls for that kindness). But he dismissed me and told me it wouldn’t be long. Then when I mentioned why I was in a rush, he snapped at me. Clearly he didn’t like that I was questioning the operation or why it was so inefficient. Trust me, I’ve been in a position like his, and I wasn’t blaming him, but he should have been clear that what he was doing would take a while so I could act, not just ignore me then get irritated when I asked how long it would take.

The tension mounted with me repeatedly saying “Hagale, hagale” because he would not just do his job after that. He had to keep reprimanding me for being out of line and defending himself and the migration system. When he finally called me forward, he did apologize, I’ll give him that, but he made it clear that he was more concerned with saving face in front of the other ladies. I had mentioned that it was unfortunate how problematic the immigration process could be, and he had corrected me saying this was a routine issue that was no fault of his or Colombian immigration. In short, the defensiveness was because he knew the job he was doing sucked.

Then came the moment he finally checked my passport and the system. He found I overstayed and that I would need to go to the central immigration office to pay — just what I hoped I would not have to do since by this point, I’m running low on COP in my Bancolombia account. Of course, he couldn’t take care of the process there. (That would be too convenient)

When I left that building, disgruntled, I was lucky to be received by a very kind taxi driver named Jose. He gave me a fair price, recognized my emotions, and told me that these sorts of things happen every day. He had seen so much that I didn’t even have to say what was wrong. I felt both sad and comforted as he told me about his late-wife’s inability to receive medical care in Colombia because of paperwork and fees he was not able to pay. They were charging him in dollars, only because she was Brazilian, a foreigner, unable to be affiliated to a Colombian medical plan.

That broke my heart. His words will stay with me forever: “My wife died of cancer before they were able to solve this bureaucratic problem appropriately.” No solution could be offered, just money that he didn’t have.

The folklore as they call it in Colombia continued once I spoke to the immigration officer in the official office. She was a kind woman with a killer style, purple and blue hair and tattoos a plenty. She spoke to me openly and seemed to be on my side, especially when she observed the 90 dias written on my passport stamp. She recognized that it wasn’t right or fair – unlike the guy at the airport who told me it was my responsibility to keep track of my days, not theirs.

Still, you know that this and worse happens regularly. I broke down sobbing at the prospect of having to choose between paying almost 400 USD to “fix” this constancy problem or be deported and no longer welcomed into Colombia without a passport. She didn’t console me as much as she told me that everything has a solution and not to cry. Typical.

But imagine a Christmas like the one I’ve had. My throat swelled with inflammation and my head hurt more than I could stand. The option of just leaving for Brazil and accepting deportation was not an easy out with me feeling that way. After some time using the shitty internet they offered trying to ask for advice and weigh the pros and cons of both options, I decided to get a hotel nearby and sleep on it.

That was the best choice I could have made. Today I feel better. Although I didn’t eat all of yesterday, I got medicine and had a good lunch today. I’ve been looking at my budget and logistics. Flying straight home would cost me more than toughing it out and moving forward with my plans. I decided I will pay the fine — tomorrow, since the office is closed for Christmas today — to avoid bigger problems in the future. As many friends have reminded me, even if I evade the fee, they will find a way to get their money sooner or later.

This means that I have to adjust my travel plans, my budget, and how much I’m willing to do. I could change my flight out of Brazil, but at the price I got it, I don’t think it would be worth it. Now I’m looking at a month traveling. If I find hosts to couchsurf with or stick to hostels, I have a budget in order where the primary expenses are transportation or potential tours I decide to go on. Local food is not so expensive, so I can handle those costs as well.

Tomorrow I will go back and pay the fine. Then I’ll book my place on the ship to Manaus for Saturday. If all goes well, I’ll get to Manaus on New Years Day, where I will spend a week or two there before flying to Salvador and then making my way down the coast to Rio.

There are still question marks circling my head. How will tomorrow go? Will they charge more than what they said? What about when I’m in Brazil — what if something else goes wrong?

Well, at least I have students and friends that support me. My family has also been there encouraging me to do what I feel is best. So, it’s just a matter of staying flexible and open-minded.

That’s traveling. That’s life. And this year has been nothing if not one learning experience after another.

One if by land, two if by air: A Gamble in Ecuador (a recap of my time in Quito in 2021)

Bear with me, but I am going through my drafts and trying to release a few. I wrote this back in 2021. I decided to leave out the cringe-worthy prologue about the plans I ditched that year reminding of how naive I used to be. But the information and experience I had in Quito as I described it was worth recounting, so here you go!

Currently, I’m sitting in the airport in Guayaquil, Ecuador. I’ve got about 6 hours until my flight to Colombia, so I’ve been reading through my new German Essentials for Dummies book and now finally updating this blog.

What have I been doing in Ecuador, you ask? Well, I needed to check off at least one country from my list this year. I wasn’t sure if I’d be accepted to the Trilingual International Studies program so I went ahead and booked a flight to Quito, Ecuador after deciding that I would make a trip home to visit my folks. My time home completely revolved around family – including a terribly wholesome family roadtrip to visit my grandpa in New Mexico. I really needed to do something for me after that; it wasn’t what I originally had in mind, as I have been hoping to explore several South American countries during the June-July break (thanks, Corona!), but it was a nice way of getting out of my comfort zone and exploring a new place.

I booked the flight back in mid-June after deliberating over flights with my brother. Parentals insisted that flying into Lake Charles was the easiest option for everyone, so I decided that if I was going to be paying extra to fly into a small city airport anyway, I might as well tac on a return flight to Quito. The roundtrip flight cost around $600, $400 of which were covered by finishing my 2-year work contract.

My time at home passed quickly, and before I knew it, I had only booked a single hostel for my first two nights in Quito. Frankly, I like traveling this way, because up until I stayed in Quito for the weekend, I wasn’t even sure where I wanted to go after exploring the capital. My original plan was to casually work my way north since Quito is only about 4-5 hours from the border with Colombia, then cross by land and bus around to some places of interest on the way home (including Pasto and a possible stop in Ibague or Villavicencio).

This was my plan. No flights back. I even did several searches to see what the most viable way of crossing the Ecuador-Colombia border would be. I had it all figured out, I thought, before I even had each day of my trip mapped out.

Until I started talking to other people in the hostel and got a more up-to-date view of the border crossing. Ironic that when you search for information about the Ecuador-Colombia border, the fact that it’s closed on the Ecuadorian side doesn’t come up.

Colombia has opened up their side with Ecuador since mid-June, however Ecuador doesn’t seem to be keen about letting people out or in by land. I understand that ground borders tend to be less regulated and therefore less practical for preventing people with the Corona Virus from crossing, but I feel this is more about population control in general. Plus, it does nothing to efficiently stop the transport of contraband. Airports are perhaps more orderly and “cleaner” in their regulation of the comings and goings of people.

One of my favorite things about solo travel is being able to time and pace things to my liking. I book based on my energy level and the amount I want to do during my stay. I knew from the beginning that I would probably only spend the weekend (Friday-Sunday) in Quito, so I intended to make my time count. That’s how I decided to book a bunk at the Secret Garden hostel in Quito’s historic downtown. This hostel has a breathtaking view of the city. Even when arriving, exhausted, at 11:30 pm on Friday night and having to walk up 4 flights of stairs (this is how you get the amazing rooftop bar view), I couldn’t help but stare in awe at the lights and illuminated monuments of the Ecuadorian capital.

This hostel was perfect for meeting travelers from all over the world, both young and old. The next day, I had breakfast around 9 am in order to be prepared to take off on a 2-hour free walking tour at 10. I sat alone and couldn’t help overhearing the conversation at the table next to me – a mixture of French, English, and German! I admit it, I was itching to just insert myself into that conversation and try practicing my language skills. But I was not fully awake or comfortable and felt that would be obnoxious and awkward, so I contented myself with just eavesdropping (one of the great joys of being a language learner/polyglot).

I cannot hype the walking tour enough. Once I ate and changed, I met on the same rooftop where reception and the kitchen/bar are located to wait for the guide to arrive. While waiting, a girl from Switzerland struck up conversation with me. In hostels, you find yourself meeting people from all over and initially starting conversations the same way over and over again (Where are you from? How long have you been here? What are your plans? Why did you choose x country to visit?). It’s inevitable but enjoyable nonetheless because every person you meet has a slightly different story.

Our group was a European mixture. I was the only American on the tour. Other hostel stayers included a Belgium couple, a Spanish couple, and a man from Sweden. We started with a group picture, being taught about the “Cuy” or rodents (like Guinea Pigs) that were a traditional part of local cuisine as we were told to shout “Cuy!” instead of cheese. (sidebar: I learned this is a homophone with the French word for balls)

The tour felt something like a hike as we went up and down the infinite hills and slopes of Quito. We saw several breathtaking and gaudy Catholic churches, including La Basilica, with its famous condor spire. Entry to most of these buildings and museums costs between $2-5 dollars. We were shown old buildings built on foundations mixed with bones. In pre-Colombian times, people would use the bones of their deceased relatives to infuse the house with their spirit and be protected by them. The bones in the foundations we saw were animal bones, but I wondered where I might see a structure old enough to still have human bones mixed into the stone. We also learned other fun facts about the architecture and saw stones around the Presidential Palace that could be traced back to the time of the Inca based on the shape and texture of their stones.

The highlight of this walking tour is the sampling we got to do. Angie, our guide, took us to a jugueria or fruit/juice spot where we got to try fruits typically used to make juice in Ecuador. Most are the same as in Colombia, except for taxo (I’m still not sure if it has an equivalent in Colombia or if it’s totally unique and native to Ecuador), and some with different names like naranjilla (known as lulo in Colombia). This reminded me of the walking tour I took in Cali which included a last stop in the Alameda market. I bought a jugo de taxo for one dollar, just for the sake of its novelty. I hadn’t missed out on much, though, as the orange-colored juice is quite bland and sort of tasteless in my opinion.

Our next stop included an explanation of how chocolate was made from the bitter cacao seeds/beans and included lots of samples of chocolates made from 60%-100% purity. Apparently, most commercial chocolates (Hersheys, etc.) can’t be considered true, high quality chocolate because they have under 60% of cacao needed to be called “real.” I had had a huge breakfast and was feeling so full I couldn’t even finish all of my chocolate samples – never thought I’d see the day when I didn’t have space for sweets!

Finally we finished our adventure in a private room upstairs where I assume people usually get together with their friends to drink and dance. I got to give a brief salsa demonstration (LOL) because out of everyone there I was the only person that new the basic steps (other than Angie). We got our canelazo (traditional cinnamon drinks mixed – optionally – with sugarcane rum, the most common liquor sold native to Ecuador) and everyone learned the famous drinking phrase: Arriba, abajo, al centro, pa’ dentro!

During this experience, I made plans with my Swiss friend Ramona to go on our own little tour. At first, we were just going to the teleferico (a cable car suspended in the air that is used to quickly scale mountains) to capture of view of the city. Our taxista convinced us that we could squeeze in La Mitad del Mundo (~50 minutes from the hostel) into our schedule and do it all – just for $35. Did I mention Ecuador is more expensive than Colombia? And the currency is dollars? Because that would be a shitton of pesos colombianos and I would refuse. But here, that sounded like a good deal to split between two people. Plus, just to get from the airport (some 45 minutes away at the time I got in, nighttime), I got tricked into paying $30 for a ride that usually would cost $20. Not knowing the local pricing and sleeping on negotiating can really drain your money.

For $5 we entered the Middle of the World monument park. There are lots of museums and shops to visit inside, but the gimmick that this is the exact place where the equator passes (0 degrees latitude) is apparently debunked in the museum we decided to skip.

Another fun tip is to make sure you bring layers or a good jacket. It was so windy, and after sweating during the walking tour, Ramona and I were convinced it wouldn’t be too cold. We were wrong, oh so very wrong – and me more than her because I didn’t even take a sweater just in case.

The real chill factor came with the teleferico. After the fast yet interminable climb to the top overlooking the city (roughing 15-20 minutes long), we were literally in the clouds. We could see our breath. I started losing feeling in my fingers and had to hike at a brisk pace (as brisk as my gasping breaths in the high altitude would allow) in order to stay warm. The trail leads to a swing set, el columpio en las nubes, or the swing in the clouds. By the time we finally got our turn on the swing set, the mountain was completely embanked by clouds and fog.

Instead of waiting in an infinitely long line to go down, we waited out the cold in the cafe. We were literally the last of the people to go down the mountain and had a surprise scare when the gondola suddenly froze when we finally had the base station in view. Trust me when I say, I was lowkey-highkey screaming on the inside.

Our night was tied together with a mediocre meal at the hostel and a great night out. We went up in taxi with a Danish guy that had been sat with Ramona for dinner and the Swedish man we met on the tour. We enjoyed a couple cups of canelazo and an incredible view of the Virgen del Panecillo, the name for the hill overlooking the city. We weren’t expecting to find a full fair of street food and live performances at the top of that hill, but our night was made by the visit.

To return to my predicament, I discovered that night that I wasn’t the only one hoping to cross into Colombia by land. After making lots of calls, an acquaintance I made in The Secret Garden hostel concluded that you could cross by taxi without getting stamped, as long as you didn’t need to return to Europe. Obviously, the legality of such a situation is murky, but with that information, on Sunday I booked my next stay at Hospedaje Vertientes del Imbabura. I set out full speed ahead towards Otavalo once I felt rested enough.

The Ecuadorian countryside was lovely. I got to meet some kind locals — a taxi driver that told me about how inflation with the switch to the dollar had affected people living in Ecuador for the worst; a kindly innkeeper for lack of a better name that told me about the local Andean culture of Imbabura with their Summer Solstice festival and rituals; even in Otavalo I found kind faces in the Plaza de los Ponchos where I ended up buying two ponchos (one of which unfortunately was synthetic, but I got what I could on a limited budget). From Otavalo, I hiked up to a waterfall with a local guide and tried some local food before caving to the realization that I was not willing to risk crossing the Ecuadorian border illegally.

Tearful, I ended up booking a flight from Quito which I honestly do not regret as much as I thought I would. The funny thing about spending money when you travel is you rarely look back and say, “Fudge! I shouldn’t have spent that money that clearly went towards making my life better!” It hurts in the moment, especially when you miss a flight and have to pay for a new one, but in this case, the monetary cost of leaving Ecuador legally was worth the stress of booking a last-minute flight to avoid taking risks by going in some pirate taxi on some sketchy dirt road between Ecuador and Colombia that could have ended up costing more in more ways than one.

So! Moral of the story: spend the money and forget about it. In the long run, it doesn’t matter. Traveling well and taking precautions will never be a waste of money, even if that money could have been spent better or wiser.

At least that’s my takeaway from this experience 3 years later. It hasn’t been that long in reality, but it feels like ages have passed since then, and so it goes….