San Agustín, Colombia - Part 2: "Getting (almost) lost in the Colombian Jungle"
(San Agustín Photos)

Our visit to San Agustin was brief. Our young and knowledgeable guide, Uriel, frequently commented that we needed at least a week to properly appreciate the various natural wonders that the area had to offer. After a morning with the statues and a big lunch at "Donde Richard" (a recommended lunch spot). Uriel was keen to at least give me a taste of what was on offer.

The chicken "al rancho" still making its way through my system, Uriel and I set off on an late afternoon hike. We took a road that headed north from town and up into the surrounding hills. Most of the homes we passed will simple, single story dwellings, many with adjoining vegetable patches, gardens rich in color and chickens everywhere. Absent mindedly I left my camera in the hotel room! I have to admit that I was feeling up to a hike, unusual for for me. But, in little time, I was absorbed by what I was seeing.

After walking for about half an hour up and down steep, rocky paths we cam to a an isolated lookout in a canyon above the Rio Magdalena. I was feeling disoriented, not being able to see the town or even being able to figure out which direction it was. By now I was kicking myself for forgetting the camera as the view along the canyon was enchanting, and all the more so with the setting sun. It all felt so remote initially, until I realised that most of the surrounding land was actually farmland. It was not obvious at first because much of the cultivable land is on these steep hillsides. Over hundreds Andean farmers have become highly skilled at using every little parcel of arable soil, no matter where or at what angle it is. I had never seen anything like it.

With the dusk rapidly advancing we headed back. We passed small patches of corn, coffee and sugar cane and plenty plantain tress (a cousin of the banana) with their massive leaves (often used like plates for serving meals) - principal crops of the area. This was first time I had come face to face with a coffee plant (photo below), and it was oddly quite thrilling. Uriel broke off two foot long lengths of "caño" (sugar cane) and explained that if you stripped off the hard outer layer you could chew the softer, fibrous inner part of the cane. Not surprisingly it was very sweet, but it contained much more juice than I imaged - not for diabetics!

The next morning Uriel appeared with horses. I had been up for several hours thanks to the boisterous bird life and rooster chorus, which all began at about 4am. After an unexpectedly cold shower I was ready for a morning ride. We trotted through and up the same road we had taken the afternoon before. People on horse back is a common sight in these rural areas. But, an uncomfortable looking "gringo" in his bright orange anorak and goofy beach hat drew some attention. We were heading for "La Pelota" (literally The Ball), a nearby hill where yet more of the mysterious statues were discovered in the early 1980's.

Despite what you all might think, I am very much a novice rider. However, this was the third "cabalgata" (horse ride) I have taken since July. Each one has been more challenging than the last. We, or more correctly, my horse broke into a gallop an several occasions, taking his lead from Uriel horse. My heart would leap each time, and I would grip the reigns and saddle so firmly that eventually I had a small but painful leather burn on the palm of my left hand. It was clear who was the boss here.

The hilly terrain certainly made for an interesting ride. When we started down the side of a steep, muddy gully (there were several) my heart lodged itself firmly in my throat. My gaze was fixed on Uriel's horse which would would slip a fraction every so often. Those moments, when you feel your horse loose its footing, even for a fraction of a second, are terrifying. But, after this and the spontaneous gallops, the adrenaline had kicked in. And, of course, on reaching the bottom, just as I was about to thank God for getting me through those few precarious minutes, the horse would then want to race up the other side with or without me. Thankfully, with me! My cries of "Tranquilo" had no effect and I think "wooow" must mean something else to Colombian horses.

The path got more wild and the vegetation grew thicker. If there was a path here, I could not make it out. Eventually we came to a point where not even the sharp blade of a machete (which, alarmingly, everyone seems to carry around here, except Uriel) would get us much further.

"I am pretty sure this used to be the path," said Uriel. But, I have not been through here for a while.

"Oh great," I thought. Not exactly what you want to hear. "This is turning into a bit of an adventure!" Then I remembered my gully. We retraced our steps and asked a farmers for directions. It was a small boy who was unloading sugar cane from a burro at a small panela (an unrefined sweetener extracted from the cane) factory who put us back on course. To be fair on Uriel, it was the signage that put us off course.

We eventually reached La Pelota. I just happy to get off the horse and stretch my legs. I don't want you to get the wrong impression, I was enjoying the ride, really. But, my backside was not quite used to extended periods in the saddle (I know 2hrs is nothing). We found the two groupings of statues, each covered by an open sided shelter like we had seen at the park the day before. One of the groups was guarding a burial site, on the side of a hill with a pretty nice view. This grouping is of particular interest because the statues appear as if they had been painted yesterday. It is almost found it hard to believe that these vivid pigments could have been painted on a couple of thousand years ago!