I know I left you hanging on that last post, waiting to hear about our drive into the jungle, but I want to take a moment to side track to focusing on the people and the culture of Colombia. Every country I visit, I find it's the little differences that always what make me smile. It's the quirks that give you insight into their culture or, ours by reflection. Here are a few of the funnest ones I've picked up on.
ONE WAY STREETS: Our time in Cartagena was spent among the tiny roads of the old walled city. These tiny roads were a tight squeeze for the surprisingly large, United States style cars, but didn't stop Colombians from attempting to cram them past parked cars or imposing buildings. As you can imagine the network of roads needed one ways because you simply can't fit the cars going both ways. In many circumstances, one way streets can be super frustrating, you want to be where you can't quite get to...always. But the Colombians have a great way to deal with this! You just back your car down the street. This way you are getting to where you want to get to without the hassle of driving around the block, finding the correct alley and navigating a maze. Yes, that is right, simply throw the car in reverse (don't worry, the cars around you will make way) and back into and down the street. Should there be a cop watching you, thinking about giving you a ticket, you have reasonable probability that you were NOT attempting to drive down the street the wrong way, because your car is, in fact, facing the correct direction. The 1st time we saw this was out a restaurant window and we were shocked, what on earth was this person thinking?!? A few more times witnessing it and we decided there was a touch of brilliance to it.
ICE CREAM: I like ice cream, it's a fine treat, but I can take it or leave it. A great ice cream time to time is fabulous, like when you are at the Trevi Fountain in Italy and the world's best Gelato shop is right there. But Colombians, at least where we have been visiting, have a serious thing for ice cream. When in Cartagena, I thought it was because it was so damn hot, made sense that you'd want something cold, but in the mountains where it is cool, that theory had to be thrown out. Maybe the reason why it caught my attention was because in the United States, you rarely see big tough looking men, eating a double scoop ice cream cone. In the USA, macho is going without delicious ice cream...or anything else that could challenge how masculine you are. In Colombia, that is absolutely not the case. Farmers, rough men that are taking a break from their work, congregate and chat...with ice cream cones. Wise old men that have seen more than we could imagine, rock onto the back legs of their wooden chairs and discuss topics of the world...with ice cream cones. Families stride out in the evenings and every single person in the family has an ice cream cone. Once you see that it is a country wide obsession, then it makes more sense why every single place you go, shops, cafes, even bars, all have ice cream.
WAITERS: In the States, at a cafe or a restaurant, the waiters/ waitresses, hover. They are always coming by to up-sell your ticket, see what else they can fetch for you and are at your side with the slightest of head nods. In Colombia, you can sit at a busy cafe for a 1/2 hour before anyone will come to see if you want something to drink. Once you get said drink, you will not see the waiter again. You can chat with friends or read a book for hours and not be bothered. Which is great, if you don't want anything else, but if you are hoping for another coffee or a bite to eat...you could be a 100yrs old before someone checks on you if you just sit there. All our usual tricks didn't work either. Catching the eye of your waitress was beyond difficult, it's as if they are told that making eye contact with a patron is rude unless you have been asked to do so, formally. The whole head nod is taken as saying 'hello', no seriously, they will smile and nod back at you but STILL not visit your table! Know what you have to do? Clap AT them. Maybe you have encountered this in your life, but this was a first for us and incredibly uncomfortable. After watching locals initiate a crisp 1, 2 clap that instantaneously brought a waiter to their side, we figured it out. We felt so weird about it, that we didn't do it correctly for the first few times and since we didn't do it correctly, we didn't get the result we wanted, which made us all the more uncomfortable. We decided it was easier to walk right up to a waitress and ask for what you wanted. But as it is when you melt into the culture around you, you get used to the sounds and activities, and before you know it, without pausing in conversation, I slkapped my hands together in a loud distinct 1, 2 clap and ordered more coffee for us. Once you get the hang of it, it is awesome! They will completely leave you alone, no urging for you to pay your bill and leave or any untimely interruptions, just an efficient, polite exchange, when YOU want it.
WHATSAPP: Given that I am about to be 40 and live in rural New Mexico where people actually fight to keep cell towers out of their towns, I did not realize that the app "WhatsApp" was sweeping the globe. I had heard people ask if I was on 'WhatsApp' or tell someone "I'll WhatsApp you later!", but my reference for it ended there. Now, in another country where I wanted to contact people at home, the absolutely free app that allows you to talk or call if on WiFi, is a necessity. Now, backing up for reference, we really have a crap system for WiFi where we live in addition to crap cell service so I couldn't imagine how this app would work other than waiting until I got back to our hotel each night or something like that, it seemed very limiting. BUT as it turns out, all across Colombia, the cafes and restaurants and center plazas, offer free WiFi! I seriously felt like an old person figuring out this 'amazing new invention'.
CHEESE: For a country that doesn't have much to offer in the way of cheese, I mean in comparison to France which has hundreds of different delicious cheeses, Colombians put cheese in literally everything. Want bread? It has cheese in it; it can range from baked on top to an actual thread of it through the center. Want a sandwich? It will absolutely have cheese on it. Pizza of course has cheese on it, but no sauce...which is really bread with cheese...only flat. Want a doughnut or pastry? Oh yes, it will have cheese in it. It is always the same, white, fresh, un-melting cheese too. I have to say, I love this somewhat potent addition to everything, but if you didn't like cheese and my son does not, then it can be a strange issue to contend with.
There are of course so many other delightful idiosyncrasies that have been discovered on this adventure, things that probably made us glaringly obvious as tourists that we did incorrectly, but it takes time to fall into the rhythm of a place. Now that we have, we love to sit and watch new comers at the cafes. The other day, a group tentatively selected a table and sat down, clearly they had been travelling for some time, a look of being worn in had settled on them, yet as they raised their hands and mildly clapped 1,2,3, we knew they were just starting to 'get it'. I couldn't help but smile as I signaled the waitress with the correct 1,2 paid her, told my husband I'd WhatsApp him to meet up in a little bit and set off to get my daily ice cream.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
Running on Wine; from Marathons to Rafting to "Fueling" on the Patio, We are Fueled by Vivác.
Monday, January 29, 2018
Friday, January 26, 2018
Coffee, Coffee, Coffee
You can't visit Colombia and NOT visit a coffee farm right? Yes, I am right. Coffee is my other go to (hello, wine is my 1st) and one I love greatly yet it became obvious that I really knew nothing about it. Did you know that the coffee plant is a tree and what keeps them from growing into huge trees is that they are cut down keeping them manageable for harvesting the berries...yes berries, the bean is inside the berry. But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. In order to appropriately explain a trip to a coffee farm, I must set the scene.
The hills surrounding Jardin (a town 4 hour drive from Medellin) are steep, majestic, sweeping shades of green filled with bamboo, pines, palms, ferns, tropical flowers and coffee plants. The jungle paths that wined up the mountains play peek-a-boo with waterfalls while strange vibrantly colored birds sweep past you. Having hired a "tour" to take us privately to the coffee farm, we found ourselves in the company of a similar man to the Captain of our sailboat from Panama to Colombia, a man of less than a few words. Jesse, my Spanish speaking husband, inquired as we walked, what the trees or birds we saw were called or about the area in general, to which the man grunted one word answers. Luckily the shockingly beautiful views kept us happy. Being that zero information was being exchanged, we had no way of knowing that this hike would be several miles with a steep ascent to the top where the coffee farm was. It was so steep in fact, that my converse tennis shoes started slipping on the moist path making my tired legs strain to keep me upright. However, greeting us at the top was the most amazing view of the valley below and we gratefully sat on the big flower laden porch of the house, sipping freshly made lemonade, smelling freshly brewed coffee and catching our breath.
*As a side note, about half way through this hike, we had the pleasure of touring a handmade tunnel that pierced the rock mountain. After dodging 3 different kinds of attacking bat, this marvel emptied you out under a waterfall. A super cool thing to see if you are OK with vile flying rats. It was a dose of adrenaline for me and comic relief for my boys as I screamed, ducked and dodged the disgusting vermin. Now back to the coffee.
Another group was finishing up their tour of the farm when we arrived so we had the chance to admire their horses. "You didn't want to ride up here?" the other guide asked. We told him we had no idea how far it was or that horseback was an option. He looked puzzled, we felt annoyed, all of us looked at our guide in disbelief. This was definitely a stunt the Sailboat Captain would have pulled. The rest of our time with the guide would be with me referring to him as 'Captain'.
Once our tour started, we were taken into the coffee fields which were behind the house and straight up the hillside. I asked if they needed to wear harnesses and clip in to the mountain to stay on it while harvesting, the farmer thought this funny and continued to march us up the almost vertical face with a warm chuckle. A bucket strapped to his waist, Jesse reached into the lush foliage in search of the red berries as the farmer told us about the process and about the plant. This detailed information is delicious to people that own a winery and vineyards which the farmer seemed particularly happy about. About five million photos of my hubby and son picking coffee and Jesse falling down the mountain (OK he just slid a few feet under a coffee bush, but it was definitely photo worthy and made my earlier question about needing a harness valid), and we were back on safe ground. The shelling, shucking, and drying process is as work intensive and detailed as the wine making process is. Then we have the roasting, which we did by hand in the farm house kitchen, brings out different aromas which I would compare to a wine having barrel aging. All the work that goes into a finished cup of coffee is astonishing and the fact that it is $0.33 in Colombia is really mind blowing. Finally we sat at the table, a view so breath taking you wanted to gauge your eyes out afterward since there would be no point in seeing anything after seeing that intensely beautiful a sight, and drank our fresh espresso. We introduced our 11 yr old son to a mostly milk and sugar version of coffee and discussed the aromas and flavors that made this farm's coffee different than any other. It was magical.
'Captain' lead us back down the mountain and into town 5 hours after our start that morning. We were drained and starving, but the adventure was enough to encourage us to do more exploration of the hidden roads that dove into the jungle. It was agreed, the next day we would take the 'Tic Tak' of a car over the hill and through the woods to the next village. Or so we thought.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
The hills surrounding Jardin (a town 4 hour drive from Medellin) are steep, majestic, sweeping shades of green filled with bamboo, pines, palms, ferns, tropical flowers and coffee plants. The jungle paths that wined up the mountains play peek-a-boo with waterfalls while strange vibrantly colored birds sweep past you. Having hired a "tour" to take us privately to the coffee farm, we found ourselves in the company of a similar man to the Captain of our sailboat from Panama to Colombia, a man of less than a few words. Jesse, my Spanish speaking husband, inquired as we walked, what the trees or birds we saw were called or about the area in general, to which the man grunted one word answers. Luckily the shockingly beautiful views kept us happy. Being that zero information was being exchanged, we had no way of knowing that this hike would be several miles with a steep ascent to the top where the coffee farm was. It was so steep in fact, that my converse tennis shoes started slipping on the moist path making my tired legs strain to keep me upright. However, greeting us at the top was the most amazing view of the valley below and we gratefully sat on the big flower laden porch of the house, sipping freshly made lemonade, smelling freshly brewed coffee and catching our breath.
*As a side note, about half way through this hike, we had the pleasure of touring a handmade tunnel that pierced the rock mountain. After dodging 3 different kinds of attacking bat, this marvel emptied you out under a waterfall. A super cool thing to see if you are OK with vile flying rats. It was a dose of adrenaline for me and comic relief for my boys as I screamed, ducked and dodged the disgusting vermin. Now back to the coffee.
Another group was finishing up their tour of the farm when we arrived so we had the chance to admire their horses. "You didn't want to ride up here?" the other guide asked. We told him we had no idea how far it was or that horseback was an option. He looked puzzled, we felt annoyed, all of us looked at our guide in disbelief. This was definitely a stunt the Sailboat Captain would have pulled. The rest of our time with the guide would be with me referring to him as 'Captain'.
Once our tour started, we were taken into the coffee fields which were behind the house and straight up the hillside. I asked if they needed to wear harnesses and clip in to the mountain to stay on it while harvesting, the farmer thought this funny and continued to march us up the almost vertical face with a warm chuckle. A bucket strapped to his waist, Jesse reached into the lush foliage in search of the red berries as the farmer told us about the process and about the plant. This detailed information is delicious to people that own a winery and vineyards which the farmer seemed particularly happy about. About five million photos of my hubby and son picking coffee and Jesse falling down the mountain (OK he just slid a few feet under a coffee bush, but it was definitely photo worthy and made my earlier question about needing a harness valid), and we were back on safe ground. The shelling, shucking, and drying process is as work intensive and detailed as the wine making process is. Then we have the roasting, which we did by hand in the farm house kitchen, brings out different aromas which I would compare to a wine having barrel aging. All the work that goes into a finished cup of coffee is astonishing and the fact that it is $0.33 in Colombia is really mind blowing. Finally we sat at the table, a view so breath taking you wanted to gauge your eyes out afterward since there would be no point in seeing anything after seeing that intensely beautiful a sight, and drank our fresh espresso. We introduced our 11 yr old son to a mostly milk and sugar version of coffee and discussed the aromas and flavors that made this farm's coffee different than any other. It was magical.
'Captain' lead us back down the mountain and into town 5 hours after our start that morning. We were drained and starving, but the adventure was enough to encourage us to do more exploration of the hidden roads that dove into the jungle. It was agreed, the next day we would take the 'Tic Tak' of a car over the hill and through the woods to the next village. Or so we thought.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Home Sweet Home
Clearly from reading the posts about how incredible the small town of Jardin, Colombia is, it will be
no surprise that we decided we needed to find a rental and make it our home for a full month. Now this seemed like an easy thing to do, however was anything but. The things we wanted, a house with a yard and great view, at least 2 bedrooms (maybe more for visiting guests), close to town and of course in our budget.While it looked attainable on web listings, this needed to be scaled back...considerably. We found the ideal spot, but it turned out the owner listed was no longer the owner and finding the current one was impossible, obviously not the American way of doing business. The other options we searched out online were either ridiculously expensive or ridiculously bad. Feeling like we were hitting a dead end on our own, we enlisted the help of a local professional.
Meeting the real estate lady one evening, she lead us to a close by apartment. The building was modern and echoed in the large hallway, it seemed promising even in a somewhat cold atmosphere. Then we saw the inside. A large room with a sleek, nice kitchen off to the right greeted us and two bedrooms were visible from the doorway...and nothing else. No windows AT ALL and no furniture (other than 2 plastic chairs). Oddly enough, the bedrooms had so many beds crammed in them, that it was almost impossible to walk in. I guess we had forgotten to request furniture? Oh no, she pointed out, "there are these plastic chairs for your comfort". Uhhhhh...this is so not going to work.
I should take a moment to say that even though we loved our hotel, the rooms were all in the center of the building meaning no windows to the outside and the shutter like 'windows' all opened into the center of the common space with the result of feeling like you were in a box when they were closed. Also, because the colonial style building of the area had zero insulation, and I am not being dramatic, ZERO insulation, the noise from the grand Church on the plaza, to which the hotel sat adjacent to, was insane. The Church seemed to ring the bells at all hours of the night and for no apparent reason. The ringing of these Church bells seemed to have no rhythm or song that it needed to adhere to resulting in a clanging of different bells at all different times sending a jarring pain into your muscles as it echoed off every wall and inside your brain, it was down right painful. This all played into my need for a window to the OUTSIDE and a concern about noise...there was literally no other place that could compete with the noise of those bells, but street noise was a consideration.
We were told that there were precious few places available to rent in this adorable town so being picky wasn't an option. She assured us that if we could stay a few more days at the hotel, another apartment in that same building would be available and this one, oh yes, this one had furniture AND windows. My mind immediately pictured a cheap, plastic patio set with the "more" being that the chairs were accompanied with a matching table, but hey at least it would have a table! The trick with this place was it was currently occupied so there was no option to see it, it would be a roll of the dice. One last thing, this apartment was street side so there would be some noise, being a block from the Church should dull the ringing though. My husband tried to explain that his picky-ass wife really wanted a view, windows and furniture. She made some calls and said there was a house that was perfect that she could show us, but it didn't have wifi. Now this was a deal breaker because I needed to work on my laptop and we are a internet loving, movie watching family.
We tossed over the options, disappointment starting to settle in. Maybe we needed to move on to another town? The sting of this thought provided us with the realization that maybe we could go with a less 'perfect' spot simply so we could stay in Jardin. I quickly said "OK, if I can have a window, even just one to the outside and something to sit on...we could even buy it ourselves, I can do it", my son wouldn't budge on the need for 2 rooms (and frankly my husband and I felt that was a necessity as well) and we all agreed wifi had to be available. When we met with the real estate agent again the next day, we were prepared to compromise and asked if there was some way to help the owner of this 'perfect' house put wifi in, she delightfully said yes and we skipped off to see our new place!
Skipping became walking which became hesitant plodding as street after street took us out of the charming town center and into the funky part of town. It isn't that I would say it was unsafe, but I would not be walking alone at night and there would be a complete stop to my son's independence that he was growing to love. We finally arrived at the concrete square that was called a 'house' and went in. Clearly a grandma's home, this place definitely had furniture, it was loaded with furniture! Furniture and Christmas decorations, and Catholic statues, art and crosses were all crammed into every inch of this place. The walls were packed with family photos which oddly made me feel like an intruder and the 4 bedrooms were complete with huge crucifixes that dwarfed the beds they hung over, leaning imposingly away from the wall and into each room. I started to have visions of "The Exorcist" movie. In the center of the home, was a large square open space that was unroofed. Yes, this home was completely open to the elements. Now had we been in Cartagena where it was hot, maybe, but in the high mountains where it rains every day and you need a jacket at night, uhhhh maybe not. The promised windows opened to the sad street and that amazing view was seen only if you wanted to become a part of the sad street seen and point your plastic chairs down the hill to the vista at the end of the road. My husband, Jesse, beamed "what do you think? Yes, don't you think? It's definitely a yes?" hmmmm... I'd say definitely a no. I could see the frustration in Jess' face as he asked why I didn't like it. I felt a knot build in my stomach and I tried not to be emotional. There was no way I was going to walk through the ghetto to get to grandma's exorcist home only to be rained on...while inside. I reasoned that if there was no view at this house and no view at the mystery apartment we had yet to see, then at least the apartment was extremely close to the town square and we could spend most of our time at a charming cafe. What was the point in staying in Jardin an entire month if we hated where we lived?
It was time to involve our kiddo. His sensory issues being at the center of our concerns, he needed to weigh in and let us know where he would be most comfortable and I assured him that we would make any spot work. I've become a pro at stuffing my feelings as much as possible in order to buoy my son in uncomfortable situations. After a long heart to heart, all three of us agreed to roll the dice and rent the mystery apartment.
Move in day we were all on pins and needles. I had started searching out cheap furniture shops in the days leading up to moving in and we all started talking up how sitting at cafes 100% of the time would be great. We walked our heavy bags from the hotel, across the central plaza park, down a short street and around a corner to our new home. The over sized door swung open and like contestants on a game show, we held our breath in anticipation of what we'd 'won'.
We entered a large modern room with a open kitchen to the left, a stainless topped island with charming chairs in the center and a black leather sofa to the right. IT HAD FURNITURE!!!! Relief swept over me. The two bedrooms faced the street, a charming colorful, safe street, with large wood framed windows. Yes, plural 'windows', two windows in each room! It also had two large bathrooms, a washer, closets and our own private patio which was really where you hang your clean laundry to dry, but allowed for windows (I know, MORE windows!!!) in the kitchen and bathroom to fill the rest of the apartment with light. It was Shangri La.
Naturally, to celebrate, we opened a box of Chilean wine and turned on Netflix. Ahhhhhh yes, we were home.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
no surprise that we decided we needed to find a rental and make it our home for a full month. Now this seemed like an easy thing to do, however was anything but. The things we wanted, a house with a yard and great view, at least 2 bedrooms (maybe more for visiting guests), close to town and of course in our budget.While it looked attainable on web listings, this needed to be scaled back...considerably. We found the ideal spot, but it turned out the owner listed was no longer the owner and finding the current one was impossible, obviously not the American way of doing business. The other options we searched out online were either ridiculously expensive or ridiculously bad. Feeling like we were hitting a dead end on our own, we enlisted the help of a local professional.
Meeting the real estate lady one evening, she lead us to a close by apartment. The building was modern and echoed in the large hallway, it seemed promising even in a somewhat cold atmosphere. Then we saw the inside. A large room with a sleek, nice kitchen off to the right greeted us and two bedrooms were visible from the doorway...and nothing else. No windows AT ALL and no furniture (other than 2 plastic chairs). Oddly enough, the bedrooms had so many beds crammed in them, that it was almost impossible to walk in. I guess we had forgotten to request furniture? Oh no, she pointed out, "there are these plastic chairs for your comfort". Uhhhhh...this is so not going to work.
I should take a moment to say that even though we loved our hotel, the rooms were all in the center of the building meaning no windows to the outside and the shutter like 'windows' all opened into the center of the common space with the result of feeling like you were in a box when they were closed. Also, because the colonial style building of the area had zero insulation, and I am not being dramatic, ZERO insulation, the noise from the grand Church on the plaza, to which the hotel sat adjacent to, was insane. The Church seemed to ring the bells at all hours of the night and for no apparent reason. The ringing of these Church bells seemed to have no rhythm or song that it needed to adhere to resulting in a clanging of different bells at all different times sending a jarring pain into your muscles as it echoed off every wall and inside your brain, it was down right painful. This all played into my need for a window to the OUTSIDE and a concern about noise...there was literally no other place that could compete with the noise of those bells, but street noise was a consideration.
We were told that there were precious few places available to rent in this adorable town so being picky wasn't an option. She assured us that if we could stay a few more days at the hotel, another apartment in that same building would be available and this one, oh yes, this one had furniture AND windows. My mind immediately pictured a cheap, plastic patio set with the "more" being that the chairs were accompanied with a matching table, but hey at least it would have a table! The trick with this place was it was currently occupied so there was no option to see it, it would be a roll of the dice. One last thing, this apartment was street side so there would be some noise, being a block from the Church should dull the ringing though. My husband tried to explain that his picky-ass wife really wanted a view, windows and furniture. She made some calls and said there was a house that was perfect that she could show us, but it didn't have wifi. Now this was a deal breaker because I needed to work on my laptop and we are a internet loving, movie watching family.
We tossed over the options, disappointment starting to settle in. Maybe we needed to move on to another town? The sting of this thought provided us with the realization that maybe we could go with a less 'perfect' spot simply so we could stay in Jardin. I quickly said "OK, if I can have a window, even just one to the outside and something to sit on...we could even buy it ourselves, I can do it", my son wouldn't budge on the need for 2 rooms (and frankly my husband and I felt that was a necessity as well) and we all agreed wifi had to be available. When we met with the real estate agent again the next day, we were prepared to compromise and asked if there was some way to help the owner of this 'perfect' house put wifi in, she delightfully said yes and we skipped off to see our new place!
Skipping became walking which became hesitant plodding as street after street took us out of the charming town center and into the funky part of town. It isn't that I would say it was unsafe, but I would not be walking alone at night and there would be a complete stop to my son's independence that he was growing to love. We finally arrived at the concrete square that was called a 'house' and went in. Clearly a grandma's home, this place definitely had furniture, it was loaded with furniture! Furniture and Christmas decorations, and Catholic statues, art and crosses were all crammed into every inch of this place. The walls were packed with family photos which oddly made me feel like an intruder and the 4 bedrooms were complete with huge crucifixes that dwarfed the beds they hung over, leaning imposingly away from the wall and into each room. I started to have visions of "The Exorcist" movie. In the center of the home, was a large square open space that was unroofed. Yes, this home was completely open to the elements. Now had we been in Cartagena where it was hot, maybe, but in the high mountains where it rains every day and you need a jacket at night, uhhhh maybe not. The promised windows opened to the sad street and that amazing view was seen only if you wanted to become a part of the sad street seen and point your plastic chairs down the hill to the vista at the end of the road. My husband, Jesse, beamed "what do you think? Yes, don't you think? It's definitely a yes?" hmmmm... I'd say definitely a no. I could see the frustration in Jess' face as he asked why I didn't like it. I felt a knot build in my stomach and I tried not to be emotional. There was no way I was going to walk through the ghetto to get to grandma's exorcist home only to be rained on...while inside. I reasoned that if there was no view at this house and no view at the mystery apartment we had yet to see, then at least the apartment was extremely close to the town square and we could spend most of our time at a charming cafe. What was the point in staying in Jardin an entire month if we hated where we lived?
It was time to involve our kiddo. His sensory issues being at the center of our concerns, he needed to weigh in and let us know where he would be most comfortable and I assured him that we would make any spot work. I've become a pro at stuffing my feelings as much as possible in order to buoy my son in uncomfortable situations. After a long heart to heart, all three of us agreed to roll the dice and rent the mystery apartment.
Move in day we were all on pins and needles. I had started searching out cheap furniture shops in the days leading up to moving in and we all started talking up how sitting at cafes 100% of the time would be great. We walked our heavy bags from the hotel, across the central plaza park, down a short street and around a corner to our new home. The over sized door swung open and like contestants on a game show, we held our breath in anticipation of what we'd 'won'.
We entered a large modern room with a open kitchen to the left, a stainless topped island with charming chairs in the center and a black leather sofa to the right. IT HAD FURNITURE!!!! Relief swept over me. The two bedrooms faced the street, a charming colorful, safe street, with large wood framed windows. Yes, plural 'windows', two windows in each room! It also had two large bathrooms, a washer, closets and our own private patio which was really where you hang your clean laundry to dry, but allowed for windows (I know, MORE windows!!!) in the kitchen and bathroom to fill the rest of the apartment with light. It was Shangri La.
Naturally, to celebrate, we opened a box of Chilean wine and turned on Netflix. Ahhhhhh yes, we were home.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Sunday, January 21, 2018
Who's Thirsty?
OK, it's time to talk seriously about our adventures in Colombia. How is the wine?
Immediately in Cartagena, we found that cheap Chilean wine was easily accessible and more expensive wines were still within reason. Many other places we have traveled in the past, wine was difficult to come by and the export/ import fees usually drove the prices up to a ridiculous, staggering price...for crap. This discovery of good wine at great prices in Colombia was a serious win for a winemaker on vacation with his wine loving, Sommelier wife.
Traveling from a port city like Cartagena deep into the mountains of central Colombia seemed certain to complicate the wine situation, but amazingly it got even better! In Jardin we found that a great bottle of wine at a restaurant/ cafe/ shop (somehow all the same pricing) was about $12. Buying the boxed Chilean wine meant you got a litre of wine for $5 and was a totally solid product. It was wildly exciting for us and made for many a evening on the town plaza, at a charming cafe with a bottle of wine possible. As a side note, the people watching was fabulous too and became a daily activity... bottle of wine in hand or not.
Because we are equal opportunity drinkers, it is important to mention the locally made Aguardiente Liquor. This clear, licorice flavored potent drink is silky smooth with a kick. You can sip a shot of it or add it to a glass of water with lime. After a parade on Three Kings Day, when the locals pranced their horses around the square, competing with each other for praise of showmanship, they'd stop at each bar for a shot of this crazy booze. Quickly absorbed by the celebration and live Colombian music bellowing out of one of the nearest bars, we found ourselves magnetically drawn from our hotel balcony into the frey. In true character, my generous husband bought a group of riders a round of shots, instantly becoming a favorite to the group, his big grin and easy laugh endearing him to the locals instantly. As it would happen, those inside the open doorway to the bar, crooning the lyrics of what must be a favorite folk song along side the musicians, saw my husband's kind gesture and in turn bought us shots of Aguardiente! And so, with this story, you can see how this drink has found a home in our hearts as well.
Local beer is delicious and while it couldn't remain cool in the heat of Cartagena, it stays frosty in the mountainous cool air. Beer is also $1 a bottle so clearly it needs to be a part of any complete diet.
It should also be noted that we do not ONLY drink booze. Coffee throughout Colombia is incredible (as you can imagine) and varies according to where you are. Much like wine, coffee shows the terroir of where it is grown so farm to farm it will be different not to mention roasting styles. It is delightful to try the many different cafes around the square that prepare the coffee differently and showcase different farms. Also, while coffee from a street vendor (men that looked like they are carrying carpentry tools in a wooden create, are actually on the go coffee dealers) is about $0.10, and is a whopping $0.33 in Jardin. If you like it with milk, which is steamed and more like heavy cream, it is $1.25. It makes sense why people drink coffee literally all day here.
The funny thing is you see people drinking beer with breakfast and I don't mean a few crazy drunks, I mean a lot of people. And at night, the cafes are full of people drinking coffee! It is easily 50% of the people are drinking beer and the other half drinking coffee at all times of the day. Oh and you can buy beer literally everywhere. Bakery, ice cream shop, you name it, there is always a cooler filled with beer.
The temperatures don't allow for much actual wine production in Colombia, but we have seen a couple bottles here and there. Areas that struggle with grape growing, generally make for terrible wines so we have not been brave enough to try it as of yet, but perhaps after a couple shots of Aguardiente, we just might find the liquid courage to do so.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Immediately in Cartagena, we found that cheap Chilean wine was easily accessible and more expensive wines were still within reason. Many other places we have traveled in the past, wine was difficult to come by and the export/ import fees usually drove the prices up to a ridiculous, staggering price...for crap. This discovery of good wine at great prices in Colombia was a serious win for a winemaker on vacation with his wine loving, Sommelier wife.
Traveling from a port city like Cartagena deep into the mountains of central Colombia seemed certain to complicate the wine situation, but amazingly it got even better! In Jardin we found that a great bottle of wine at a restaurant/ cafe/ shop (somehow all the same pricing) was about $12. Buying the boxed Chilean wine meant you got a litre of wine for $5 and was a totally solid product. It was wildly exciting for us and made for many a evening on the town plaza, at a charming cafe with a bottle of wine possible. As a side note, the people watching was fabulous too and became a daily activity... bottle of wine in hand or not.
Because we are equal opportunity drinkers, it is important to mention the locally made Aguardiente Liquor. This clear, licorice flavored potent drink is silky smooth with a kick. You can sip a shot of it or add it to a glass of water with lime. After a parade on Three Kings Day, when the locals pranced their horses around the square, competing with each other for praise of showmanship, they'd stop at each bar for a shot of this crazy booze. Quickly absorbed by the celebration and live Colombian music bellowing out of one of the nearest bars, we found ourselves magnetically drawn from our hotel balcony into the frey. In true character, my generous husband bought a group of riders a round of shots, instantly becoming a favorite to the group, his big grin and easy laugh endearing him to the locals instantly. As it would happen, those inside the open doorway to the bar, crooning the lyrics of what must be a favorite folk song along side the musicians, saw my husband's kind gesture and in turn bought us shots of Aguardiente! And so, with this story, you can see how this drink has found a home in our hearts as well.
Local beer is delicious and while it couldn't remain cool in the heat of Cartagena, it stays frosty in the mountainous cool air. Beer is also $1 a bottle so clearly it needs to be a part of any complete diet.
It should also be noted that we do not ONLY drink booze. Coffee throughout Colombia is incredible (as you can imagine) and varies according to where you are. Much like wine, coffee shows the terroir of where it is grown so farm to farm it will be different not to mention roasting styles. It is delightful to try the many different cafes around the square that prepare the coffee differently and showcase different farms. Also, while coffee from a street vendor (men that looked like they are carrying carpentry tools in a wooden create, are actually on the go coffee dealers) is about $0.10, and is a whopping $0.33 in Jardin. If you like it with milk, which is steamed and more like heavy cream, it is $1.25. It makes sense why people drink coffee literally all day here.
The funny thing is you see people drinking beer with breakfast and I don't mean a few crazy drunks, I mean a lot of people. And at night, the cafes are full of people drinking coffee! It is easily 50% of the people are drinking beer and the other half drinking coffee at all times of the day. Oh and you can buy beer literally everywhere. Bakery, ice cream shop, you name it, there is always a cooler filled with beer.
The temperatures don't allow for much actual wine production in Colombia, but we have seen a couple bottles here and there. Areas that struggle with grape growing, generally make for terrible wines so we have not been brave enough to try it as of yet, but perhaps after a couple shots of Aguardiente, we just might find the liquid courage to do so.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
Welcome to Oz
Another small town that was on our list to visit in Colombia was called Jardin ("garden") and was, like Santa Fe de Antioquia, touted as a must see. Since our experience in Santa Fe was lack luster, we had trepidations of going to Jardin and honestly wondered if we should have ever left Cartagena. But hey, that is part of the adventure right? Not knowing what we will encounter and taking it in stride is part of the deal.
Our little, tiny, white hatchback, now jokingly called 'The Tic Tac' (please use a Colombian accent when saying the name) because it was about the size of the little mint candies, zoomed through the tight, ever climbing country roads. Luckily my husband likes to drive like he is playing a video game, swerving around massive potholes, dodging thousands of motorcycles and speeding around buses on what should be considered a one lane road. It seemed impossible, but it just kept getting greener! It was dense with vegetation and yet had massive vistas that shot out over cliffs and slid down steep coffee covered mountains. It is an unbelievable experience to be in awe of a color in nature. I 1st had the experience diving in Cozumel, Mexico when I saw cobalt blue in the depth of the ocean. It shocks the senses to see a color so vivid and unusual starring you back in the face and as I peered out the window at the sea of greens, so many hue changes I lost count, I was deeply moved. I could say 'emerald green' or 'lime green' or 'olive green' or even 'forest green' but these names simply point you in the direction of what some of the colors we were seeing were like, but are completely lacking in accuracy. I could add words like 'deep' or 'rich', 'bright' or 'saturated', but these too fall short. It was a majestic array of color that we do not have names for yet. This area is, simply put, GORGEOUS. Even when we hit stand still traffic for 2 hours (due to a landslide), it was difficult to be upset as we took in the huge flowering trees and slap-yourself-in-the-face amazing views. As we climbed up higher into the clouds and up ever bigger mountains, the road tightened, twisted, rolled and finally released us into the valley of Oz.
Jardin is truly the Emerald City. It is bathed in rich jewel tones of green (see? I keep trying to describe it), splashed with vibrant flowers of every sort; orchids, bougainvillea, hyacinth, roses, and a billions others I've never seen before. The town is super small, easily walk-able and centered entirely around the town park...which is filled with unusual plants, shade trees and beautiful flowers, all labeled with plaques as if in a botanical garden. The cafes, hotels, shops and bars that line the cobblestone streets surrounding the center park ooze charm in a way the travel books couldn't possibly describe sufficiently. We found our hotel, one right there in the action (with a bakery to one side and a ice cream shop to the other), and let ourselves get excited, this was definitely beyond our exceptions. We were greeted by lovely hotel staff who welcomed us with the signature coffee of the area (swoon!) and carried our bags up to our room for us. Hell freaking YES! It was so the right choice to leave Santa Fe.
Unable to resist the buzz in the air as locals filled the plaza park, we hurried out of the hotel to drink it all in. Stepping out into the fresh, cool evening, we were stunned to find the sun setting with a golden light that twinkled off the damp foliage and held up high into the mist covered mountains, a perfect, end to end, vibrant rainbow overhead. I am talking a rainbow so bright you almost needed to wear sunglasses. I literally had my jar drop open and said "Oh. Come. On!", it was absolutely unbelievable. The beauty was so much that it brought tears to our eyes and my son exclaimed "I don't think I have ever cried over something being beautiful before". As if to push us right over the edge, a chorus of clopping horse hooves danced over the cobblestones making a delightfully playful sound, one you don't hear in daily American life. The locals, in fact, the most burly, strong men of the community, literally prance their horses through the streets. Knees tight and high with heads held down, these horses showed off and so did the riders. It wasn't a special show for tourists, this we would come to find, was every evening's entertainment and the most common mode of transportation for locals. Traffic in Jardin, is literally a group of horses being pranced down the street intertwined with adorable little moto-taxies. We took our seat at one of the brightly colored tables with matching metal umbrellas, like you'd see at Disneyland, and marveled at this picture perfect paradise.
Instantaneously we knew, we had found home.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Our little, tiny, white hatchback, now jokingly called 'The Tic Tac' (please use a Colombian accent when saying the name) because it was about the size of the little mint candies, zoomed through the tight, ever climbing country roads. Luckily my husband likes to drive like he is playing a video game, swerving around massive potholes, dodging thousands of motorcycles and speeding around buses on what should be considered a one lane road. It seemed impossible, but it just kept getting greener! It was dense with vegetation and yet had massive vistas that shot out over cliffs and slid down steep coffee covered mountains. It is an unbelievable experience to be in awe of a color in nature. I 1st had the experience diving in Cozumel, Mexico when I saw cobalt blue in the depth of the ocean. It shocks the senses to see a color so vivid and unusual starring you back in the face and as I peered out the window at the sea of greens, so many hue changes I lost count, I was deeply moved. I could say 'emerald green' or 'lime green' or 'olive green' or even 'forest green' but these names simply point you in the direction of what some of the colors we were seeing were like, but are completely lacking in accuracy. I could add words like 'deep' or 'rich', 'bright' or 'saturated', but these too fall short. It was a majestic array of color that we do not have names for yet. This area is, simply put, GORGEOUS. Even when we hit stand still traffic for 2 hours (due to a landslide), it was difficult to be upset as we took in the huge flowering trees and slap-yourself-in-the-face amazing views. As we climbed up higher into the clouds and up ever bigger mountains, the road tightened, twisted, rolled and finally released us into the valley of Oz.
Jardin is truly the Emerald City. It is bathed in rich jewel tones of green (see? I keep trying to describe it), splashed with vibrant flowers of every sort; orchids, bougainvillea, hyacinth, roses, and a billions others I've never seen before. The town is super small, easily walk-able and centered entirely around the town park...which is filled with unusual plants, shade trees and beautiful flowers, all labeled with plaques as if in a botanical garden. The cafes, hotels, shops and bars that line the cobblestone streets surrounding the center park ooze charm in a way the travel books couldn't possibly describe sufficiently. We found our hotel, one right there in the action (with a bakery to one side and a ice cream shop to the other), and let ourselves get excited, this was definitely beyond our exceptions. We were greeted by lovely hotel staff who welcomed us with the signature coffee of the area (swoon!) and carried our bags up to our room for us. Hell freaking YES! It was so the right choice to leave Santa Fe.
Unable to resist the buzz in the air as locals filled the plaza park, we hurried out of the hotel to drink it all in. Stepping out into the fresh, cool evening, we were stunned to find the sun setting with a golden light that twinkled off the damp foliage and held up high into the mist covered mountains, a perfect, end to end, vibrant rainbow overhead. I am talking a rainbow so bright you almost needed to wear sunglasses. I literally had my jar drop open and said "Oh. Come. On!", it was absolutely unbelievable. The beauty was so much that it brought tears to our eyes and my son exclaimed "I don't think I have ever cried over something being beautiful before". As if to push us right over the edge, a chorus of clopping horse hooves danced over the cobblestones making a delightfully playful sound, one you don't hear in daily American life. The locals, in fact, the most burly, strong men of the community, literally prance their horses through the streets. Knees tight and high with heads held down, these horses showed off and so did the riders. It wasn't a special show for tourists, this we would come to find, was every evening's entertainment and the most common mode of transportation for locals. Traffic in Jardin, is literally a group of horses being pranced down the street intertwined with adorable little moto-taxies. We took our seat at one of the brightly colored tables with matching metal umbrellas, like you'd see at Disneyland, and marveled at this picture perfect paradise.
Instantaneously we knew, we had found home.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Monday, January 15, 2018
Happy New Years...What???
Trying to decide where to visit in Colombia is ridiculously difficult. The country is huge and so diverse that it offers literally anything a traveler could want. Warm, stunning beaches, dramatic mountain towns, stark colonial towns, bustling cities, jungle and so much more. My little family of 3 had been researching for months where we wanted to go, and the list was long, but now, everything seemed upside down. We didn't know what we wanted to do.
After a full week in beautiful Cartagena, we scrapped our plan to drive along the coast visiting beaches and decided to head out of the heat to the cool mountains. In order to save ourselves a 3 day drive, we opted to fly from Cartagena to Medellin. We'd heard that Medellin was a city to spend some time in and seeing its gorgeous steep mountains dazzling green in every direction, it was easy to see why. But we were interested in Colombia's little towns, so we rented a car and drove out of the city and into the hills toward Santa Fe de Antioquia. The photos of this area simply do not do it justice. It is the start of the Andes so mountains aren't just mountains, they are steep, dramatic, impressive, daunting walls. They shoot straight up from the towns and cities and make you think of the tribes that believe spirits reside inside them; you could certainly understand the need to be in awe and have respect for these shockingly beautiful formations.
We drove out of the mountains into the stark colonial town of Santa Fe where we had rented an Airbnb apartment. Santa Fe had at one time been the capital of the area and promised to be a charming little place. We had stayed at Airbnbs before, with friends, but had never done it ourselves, the actual booking of it I mean, and this 1st experience was not what we expected. The place was a short walk to the town center and a few steps from a local farmers market. It was clean and modern and came with a best friend evidently, but not with a kitchen sponge. The photos had looked like it was a 2 bedroom which was a big draw since we had shared a cabin on a boat for 8 days and then shared a hotel room for another 6 days in Cartagena. We were ready to stretch out. Turned out, it was one bedroom, and was adjoined to the owners home with a special open air feature that left part of the roof open...open right into the owner's shower. Ya, I know, it WAS weird. You couldn't see anything, but you could heard everything. We were tired and disappointed by the end of the tedious check in (yes, we sign off that there are 4 small plates and 6 large plates and seriously guy, we promise we won't steal your dishes!), but the owner was insistent that he help us settle in. It was really very sweet, but we rented a place because we wanted to be on our own. We were excited to explore and discover the area, but it was late in the day and my husband, Jesse, was coming down with a cold so we excused ourselves as politely as possible and tried to get comfortable.
As dinner time came upon us, Jesse and I ventured out to find some groceries. As we stepped out the front door, around the corner came the owner. He wouldn't take no for an answer, he had to show us the farmers market personally. Then, because we said we were headed out for food, he started to insist that we sit at a restaurant and have food with him...or a beer...or a quick snack...or... or give it a break guy! We untangled ourselves as best we could explaining that we had left our son at the apartment and needed to get food and get back ASAP. It was a touch unnerving to have him so involved in our stay, but he was really very sweet and we could tell he meant well by it.
A half hour later and we were cooking dinner, starting to relax, when there was a knock at the door. Did we have everything we needed? Would we like a fan? The owner asked. He left, then came back with a fan. Then later came back with the need to show us how to open the balcony doors. Then came back to ask if we would be going out because the town was really all about going out at night and we needed to see that. Then the next morning he came back to give us a blender, then hang a hammock for us, then tell us he would bring us tamales (which he never did), then to tell us that he would be leaving to spend New Years with his family. That guy must have visited us about a thousand times. It was as if he personally, came with the apartment.
Luckily, the owner did leave for the weekend and we finally felt like we could have the place to ourselves. The guide books say that Santa Fe does a great New Years Eve celebration so we were really excited. Our 11 year old son, Denim, had been a wonderful sport with a lack luster Christmas where our biggest "gift" was that we were off the 'Death Boat', but now we were going to be able to really celebrate. The days leading up to NYE, locals were setting off private fireworks and the festive decorations were larger than life promising a truly magnificent celebration.
Champagne in hand (love that you can walk around with booze openly through the streets) we walked through the tunnel of lights that signified the transition of 2017 into 2018, a huge structure that lit up the whole town center. Music blared and couples salsa danced in the streets. We found a spot in the crowds on the church steps and awaited the count down. A band playing Colombian rhythms ushered in the New Year...without stopping to do a count down...not saying a word about it. There were no fireworks. Nothing special happened at all. Suddenly, all around us, people were kissing, old men were hugging, teenagers were making out and while I wondered if we had found ourselves in a weird 'Eyes Wide Shut' situation, it did not occur to me that THIS signified that it was now 2018.
Jesse turned to Denim and I and said "Happy New Year!". I starred at him blankly and our son burst into tears. We gathered ourselves up, a ragged mess of depression, and went back to the apartment as the rest of the town sucked faces and partied into the small hours of the morning.
Needless to say, Santa Fe was not the gem we had hoped for and as we nursed colds and our wounds of disappointment, the cold stone town fought a loosing battle to enamor us. We packed up after 4 days and hit the road, once again in search of a place to call home for the next month.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
After a full week in beautiful Cartagena, we scrapped our plan to drive along the coast visiting beaches and decided to head out of the heat to the cool mountains. In order to save ourselves a 3 day drive, we opted to fly from Cartagena to Medellin. We'd heard that Medellin was a city to spend some time in and seeing its gorgeous steep mountains dazzling green in every direction, it was easy to see why. But we were interested in Colombia's little towns, so we rented a car and drove out of the city and into the hills toward Santa Fe de Antioquia. The photos of this area simply do not do it justice. It is the start of the Andes so mountains aren't just mountains, they are steep, dramatic, impressive, daunting walls. They shoot straight up from the towns and cities and make you think of the tribes that believe spirits reside inside them; you could certainly understand the need to be in awe and have respect for these shockingly beautiful formations.
We drove out of the mountains into the stark colonial town of Santa Fe where we had rented an Airbnb apartment. Santa Fe had at one time been the capital of the area and promised to be a charming little place. We had stayed at Airbnbs before, with friends, but had never done it ourselves, the actual booking of it I mean, and this 1st experience was not what we expected. The place was a short walk to the town center and a few steps from a local farmers market. It was clean and modern and came with a best friend evidently, but not with a kitchen sponge. The photos had looked like it was a 2 bedroom which was a big draw since we had shared a cabin on a boat for 8 days and then shared a hotel room for another 6 days in Cartagena. We were ready to stretch out. Turned out, it was one bedroom, and was adjoined to the owners home with a special open air feature that left part of the roof open...open right into the owner's shower. Ya, I know, it WAS weird. You couldn't see anything, but you could heard everything. We were tired and disappointed by the end of the tedious check in (yes, we sign off that there are 4 small plates and 6 large plates and seriously guy, we promise we won't steal your dishes!), but the owner was insistent that he help us settle in. It was really very sweet, but we rented a place because we wanted to be on our own. We were excited to explore and discover the area, but it was late in the day and my husband, Jesse, was coming down with a cold so we excused ourselves as politely as possible and tried to get comfortable.
As dinner time came upon us, Jesse and I ventured out to find some groceries. As we stepped out the front door, around the corner came the owner. He wouldn't take no for an answer, he had to show us the farmers market personally. Then, because we said we were headed out for food, he started to insist that we sit at a restaurant and have food with him...or a beer...or a quick snack...or... or give it a break guy! We untangled ourselves as best we could explaining that we had left our son at the apartment and needed to get food and get back ASAP. It was a touch unnerving to have him so involved in our stay, but he was really very sweet and we could tell he meant well by it.
A half hour later and we were cooking dinner, starting to relax, when there was a knock at the door. Did we have everything we needed? Would we like a fan? The owner asked. He left, then came back with a fan. Then later came back with the need to show us how to open the balcony doors. Then came back to ask if we would be going out because the town was really all about going out at night and we needed to see that. Then the next morning he came back to give us a blender, then hang a hammock for us, then tell us he would bring us tamales (which he never did), then to tell us that he would be leaving to spend New Years with his family. That guy must have visited us about a thousand times. It was as if he personally, came with the apartment.
Luckily, the owner did leave for the weekend and we finally felt like we could have the place to ourselves. The guide books say that Santa Fe does a great New Years Eve celebration so we were really excited. Our 11 year old son, Denim, had been a wonderful sport with a lack luster Christmas where our biggest "gift" was that we were off the 'Death Boat', but now we were going to be able to really celebrate. The days leading up to NYE, locals were setting off private fireworks and the festive decorations were larger than life promising a truly magnificent celebration.
Champagne in hand (love that you can walk around with booze openly through the streets) we walked through the tunnel of lights that signified the transition of 2017 into 2018, a huge structure that lit up the whole town center. Music blared and couples salsa danced in the streets. We found a spot in the crowds on the church steps and awaited the count down. A band playing Colombian rhythms ushered in the New Year...without stopping to do a count down...not saying a word about it. There were no fireworks. Nothing special happened at all. Suddenly, all around us, people were kissing, old men were hugging, teenagers were making out and while I wondered if we had found ourselves in a weird 'Eyes Wide Shut' situation, it did not occur to me that THIS signified that it was now 2018.
Jesse turned to Denim and I and said "Happy New Year!". I starred at him blankly and our son burst into tears. We gathered ourselves up, a ragged mess of depression, and went back to the apartment as the rest of the town sucked faces and partied into the small hours of the morning.
Needless to say, Santa Fe was not the gem we had hoped for and as we nursed colds and our wounds of disappointment, the cold stone town fought a loosing battle to enamor us. We packed up after 4 days and hit the road, once again in search of a place to call home for the next month.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Gentle Persuasion
As if to tell us that it was OK to leave Cartagena, smooth out our worries that we would be disappointed with a new place, the cruise ships landed. About a billion people poured into the streets, clogging the sidewalks and caused the street vendors to heighten their sales tactics, yelling over the crowds, making our tranquil little hamlet a roaring, hot, crowded yuck fest. OK maybe that is a bit severe, but the people that descended on the old city were anything but appreciative of its gifts. These loud, rough, people that plowed their way through the shops and cafes said things like "it's the same old shit" or "where are we this time?" or "when can we get back on the boat". It was depressing.
In an effort to leave the crowds of the old city, we ventured outside the protection of the walled cocoon and into the "real" part of the city to see an ancient fortress. This 'sight to see' was located in what many might consider the true city since it is where most locals live. It is filled with high rises, car horns and poverty. Now we weren't staying in the old walled city proper, our area wasn't all gold and lace, in fact our area had prostitutes and drunk toothless men on stoops and yes, my husband Jesse was asked if he wanted any drugs... twice. BUT the prostitutes were friendly and while their faces definitely were hardened from their life experiences, they were gentle and kind to us. The toothless men greeted us politely each time we passed and the drug enthusiasts asked in the most friendly, nonthreatening way, if we wanted anything. No, seriously, it really was so safe feeling and wonderful. But now we were in a foreign land, the "outside", and walking, alone.
We found ourselves at the fortress, a mammoth stone pyramid/ castle, that let us see the rest of Cartagena and the sunset. It was a fascinating glimpse into the past and worth the steep, sweaty climb to the top. As the sun dipped and the skyline became an array of twinkling lights, we headed back home...now in the dark.
Most people are probably thinking "oh crap! I knew it, this is when all the stories I've heard about Colombia are going to happen to this poor family", but it is actually the opposite. The streets, even in a questionable area, were big and bright and were filled with friendly people. Sketchy places that had us looking at each other sideways in daylight, turned into fruit sellers and coffee vendors by night. Happy laughter filled the air in these areas of town as European backpackers and locals shared drinks together. It was remarkable. Now that said, we try to be smart about travelling and kept our passports locked in a safe at the hotel and I didn't carry a purse, but I also watched as Colombian tourists to the area, wore big bold jewelry and European tourists openly asked directions showing their vulnerability. It is a significantly different Colombia these days and the locals try to tell you that every chance they can.
We turned the corner onto our hotel street and it was as if time slowed, becoming a thick dough you try to move your hands through. The brightly colored flags above our heads reflected the street lights and the entire street seemed to glow warmly. Every shop owner and vendor smiled big and nodded their heads hello, recognizing us as we moved past their doorway. The sweet, warm air was thick with the familiar smell of flowers, fried food and cigars. We inhaled each moment, each step, until we reached our hotel. reticent to have the evening end.
As we stepped up onto the sidewalk and out of the more pedestrian friendly roadway, we were greeted by a brand new Italian Restaurant! Jesse and I were married in Italy and last year took our son to Italy introducing him to the family obsession. Turns out the owner, an Italian man, and his wife moved to Cartagena recently and decided to open this little bistro. Lucky us, we stumbled upon them on opening night! Handmade pasta, Italian wines and exquisite presentation made for the most endearing final meal in a city we fell in love with much like we did with Italy.
There is no denying that Colombia has had a frightening past, but they have done so much to change the atmosphere of the country and its troubled cities in the recent years. They are welcoming to tourists, excitedly sharing where new travelers should make sure to go and compassionately help those that speak Spanish as deplorably as I do. They are a wonderful people in a gorgeous country and I highly suggest you plan a visit.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
In an effort to leave the crowds of the old city, we ventured outside the protection of the walled cocoon and into the "real" part of the city to see an ancient fortress. This 'sight to see' was located in what many might consider the true city since it is where most locals live. It is filled with high rises, car horns and poverty. Now we weren't staying in the old walled city proper, our area wasn't all gold and lace, in fact our area had prostitutes and drunk toothless men on stoops and yes, my husband Jesse was asked if he wanted any drugs... twice. BUT the prostitutes were friendly and while their faces definitely were hardened from their life experiences, they were gentle and kind to us. The toothless men greeted us politely each time we passed and the drug enthusiasts asked in the most friendly, nonthreatening way, if we wanted anything. No, seriously, it really was so safe feeling and wonderful. But now we were in a foreign land, the "outside", and walking, alone.
We found ourselves at the fortress, a mammoth stone pyramid/ castle, that let us see the rest of Cartagena and the sunset. It was a fascinating glimpse into the past and worth the steep, sweaty climb to the top. As the sun dipped and the skyline became an array of twinkling lights, we headed back home...now in the dark.
Most people are probably thinking "oh crap! I knew it, this is when all the stories I've heard about Colombia are going to happen to this poor family", but it is actually the opposite. The streets, even in a questionable area, were big and bright and were filled with friendly people. Sketchy places that had us looking at each other sideways in daylight, turned into fruit sellers and coffee vendors by night. Happy laughter filled the air in these areas of town as European backpackers and locals shared drinks together. It was remarkable. Now that said, we try to be smart about travelling and kept our passports locked in a safe at the hotel and I didn't carry a purse, but I also watched as Colombian tourists to the area, wore big bold jewelry and European tourists openly asked directions showing their vulnerability. It is a significantly different Colombia these days and the locals try to tell you that every chance they can.
We turned the corner onto our hotel street and it was as if time slowed, becoming a thick dough you try to move your hands through. The brightly colored flags above our heads reflected the street lights and the entire street seemed to glow warmly. Every shop owner and vendor smiled big and nodded their heads hello, recognizing us as we moved past their doorway. The sweet, warm air was thick with the familiar smell of flowers, fried food and cigars. We inhaled each moment, each step, until we reached our hotel. reticent to have the evening end.
As we stepped up onto the sidewalk and out of the more pedestrian friendly roadway, we were greeted by a brand new Italian Restaurant! Jesse and I were married in Italy and last year took our son to Italy introducing him to the family obsession. Turns out the owner, an Italian man, and his wife moved to Cartagena recently and decided to open this little bistro. Lucky us, we stumbled upon them on opening night! Handmade pasta, Italian wines and exquisite presentation made for the most endearing final meal in a city we fell in love with much like we did with Italy.
There is no denying that Colombia has had a frightening past, but they have done so much to change the atmosphere of the country and its troubled cities in the recent years. They are welcoming to tourists, excitedly sharing where new travelers should make sure to go and compassionately help those that speak Spanish as deplorably as I do. They are a wonderful people in a gorgeous country and I highly suggest you plan a visit.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Wednesday, January 10, 2018
The Sweetness of Perfection
The days we spent in Cartagena dripped over us like warm honey. Life moved slow there, sticky with sweat as the gold tinged light rolled over us. The heat of the afternoon each day would drive us off the cobblestone streets of old town and into an air conditioned oasis; museums, stores, cafes. And as each evening stretched its long fingers across the city, the vibrantly colored flowers dazzled like jewels of every color. The hours slipped into night as slowly buildings and trees illuminated our way, hanging thick with holiday lights. It was at night when the streets were full of people and vendors, food and music, but never in a manic way like many other cities, more in the way of New Orleans, smooth and sexy. We slept in, had incredible coffee from cart vendors at each shade dappled plaza park, ate fabulous food sold by little old men in fedora hats and soaked in the warmth of the people. It was swoon worthy.
One of these sleepy, dreamlike days, took us into the Chocolate Museum. A couple small adjoining rooms packed with the history of chocolate and the process from tree to finished bar. It was well done, and like everything in the old city, charming beyond words. The intoxicating aroma of the shop and cafe attached to the mini museum kept us there for hours more as they lavished us with sample after sample of every kind of treat they had. It was a real life Willy Wonka situation as they delighted us with various types of hot cocoas, teas and coffees, bars, jams, sauces, candies, fruit covered delicacies and everything in-between. They even had chocolate flavored cigars and chocolate liquors. Most chocolate liquors I'd had previously were something you might add to your coffee or sip with dessert, but these, oh man, these were potent little aphrodisiacs mixed with spice and thick chocolate. It tasted like Cartagena, smooth and rich and utterly seductive.
You'd think that we would have had enough chocolate after the endless flow of samples, but since most of what they made at this little shop was not sweet, it didn't render a headache or twist your tummy. Instead, like a lullaby, it rocked us gently... gently into their cafe where we had a menu of chocolate infused items to choose from. We sat in a center, shaded garden and laughed as we played with the fondue and sipped chocolate mint iced teas. It was absolutely delicious in every sense of the word. Well played Chocolate Museum, well played.
The rest of the day we meandered the tiny European like streets, walking by Gabriel Garcia Marquez's home (a highlight for 3 fans of the writer) then fell into a bookstore/ cafe/ bar tucked into a nook down a small side street. My son's current obsession is books, great literature, so a bookshop to him is actually better than the Chocolate Museum. For my husband and I, the heat and slow stroll had worked up a thirst and since in Colombia they sell beer at ice cream stands, the bar at the bookshop was a lucky occurrence, but not a surprise. The 3 of us lost a couple more hours as we sipped chilled white wine and discussed the classics.
As sunset approached we sought out the top of the "old wall". This ancient wall is about 10ft thick allowing for a huge walkway that offers gorgeous views of the old city on one side and the ocean on the other. Originally serving as protection for the city, the wall is now a must see for tourists. We watched the sun set and the city light up and wondered if we should ever leave.
Each day was the same, yet different; the Museum of Gold, the Museum of Emeralds, the Museum of the Inquisition, a special little cafe, a stroll through the streets. All aspects of our former reality melted away and even struggling with my cell phone didn't seem to matter. Each easy day rolled into the next until we didn't know the date or time. As Americans this was a strange and opulent way of being in the world and we drank it up.
It was with heavy hearts that after 6 days we decided we needed to leave. It was our duty to leave. We had 2 months afforded to this adventure and Colombia is a big country. If we were to explore some of the vastly different areas and have time to pick one to settle down in, we needed to get going.
Saying goodbye to Cartagena felt melancholy, yet, as we sat on our hotel balcony, surrounded by vivid bougainvillea, wrapped in the warm humid air, smoking a Cuban Cigar, the streets below burst into salsa music from a impromptu marching band. Little old men and hard looking women always seemed warm and welcoming here and as the locals filled the streets, you could feel that love of life float up to us. It was as if the city was sending us off with a poetic kiss. It was a perfection.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
One of these sleepy, dreamlike days, took us into the Chocolate Museum. A couple small adjoining rooms packed with the history of chocolate and the process from tree to finished bar. It was well done, and like everything in the old city, charming beyond words. The intoxicating aroma of the shop and cafe attached to the mini museum kept us there for hours more as they lavished us with sample after sample of every kind of treat they had. It was a real life Willy Wonka situation as they delighted us with various types of hot cocoas, teas and coffees, bars, jams, sauces, candies, fruit covered delicacies and everything in-between. They even had chocolate flavored cigars and chocolate liquors. Most chocolate liquors I'd had previously were something you might add to your coffee or sip with dessert, but these, oh man, these were potent little aphrodisiacs mixed with spice and thick chocolate. It tasted like Cartagena, smooth and rich and utterly seductive.
You'd think that we would have had enough chocolate after the endless flow of samples, but since most of what they made at this little shop was not sweet, it didn't render a headache or twist your tummy. Instead, like a lullaby, it rocked us gently... gently into their cafe where we had a menu of chocolate infused items to choose from. We sat in a center, shaded garden and laughed as we played with the fondue and sipped chocolate mint iced teas. It was absolutely delicious in every sense of the word. Well played Chocolate Museum, well played.
The rest of the day we meandered the tiny European like streets, walking by Gabriel Garcia Marquez's home (a highlight for 3 fans of the writer) then fell into a bookstore/ cafe/ bar tucked into a nook down a small side street. My son's current obsession is books, great literature, so a bookshop to him is actually better than the Chocolate Museum. For my husband and I, the heat and slow stroll had worked up a thirst and since in Colombia they sell beer at ice cream stands, the bar at the bookshop was a lucky occurrence, but not a surprise. The 3 of us lost a couple more hours as we sipped chilled white wine and discussed the classics.
As sunset approached we sought out the top of the "old wall". This ancient wall is about 10ft thick allowing for a huge walkway that offers gorgeous views of the old city on one side and the ocean on the other. Originally serving as protection for the city, the wall is now a must see for tourists. We watched the sun set and the city light up and wondered if we should ever leave.
Each day was the same, yet different; the Museum of Gold, the Museum of Emeralds, the Museum of the Inquisition, a special little cafe, a stroll through the streets. All aspects of our former reality melted away and even struggling with my cell phone didn't seem to matter. Each easy day rolled into the next until we didn't know the date or time. As Americans this was a strange and opulent way of being in the world and we drank it up.
It was with heavy hearts that after 6 days we decided we needed to leave. It was our duty to leave. We had 2 months afforded to this adventure and Colombia is a big country. If we were to explore some of the vastly different areas and have time to pick one to settle down in, we needed to get going.
Saying goodbye to Cartagena felt melancholy, yet, as we sat on our hotel balcony, surrounded by vivid bougainvillea, wrapped in the warm humid air, smoking a Cuban Cigar, the streets below burst into salsa music from a impromptu marching band. Little old men and hard looking women always seemed warm and welcoming here and as the locals filled the streets, you could feel that love of life float up to us. It was as if the city was sending us off with a poetic kiss. It was a perfection.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Monday, January 8, 2018
A Cartagena Christmas
Waking up on Christmas Day in Cartagena was more than a little odd. It was humid and hot and we were not quite refreshed from our boat trip from hell, but feeling more human. Human enough to feel completely out of sorts.
My exhausted, drained boy opened his sleepy eyes and looked at me. I smiled and said "Merry Christmas love bug", I worried that Christmas being so different after such an intense boat trip might send him into an "I hate Colombia" fixation. He frowned slightly and rolled over, under his breath saying 'Merry Christmas' back. My husband, Jesse, adorable as ever and NOT a Christmas fan, sat up in bed and excitedly said "hey, looks like Santa came!". Clearly our sour, sarcastic, brilliant 11 year old child does not believe in Santa, but he does believe in celebration and gifts. Our son's eyes opened big and wide and he popped out of bed, ran over to the sad set-up on the table we'd created and delighted in reading the "paper gifts" I'd written out. He was so elated, and probably as relieved that we had done something, as I was to see a smile on his face.
Despite feeling like Hemingway's book 'Old Man and The Sea', completely beat down, we dragged ourselves out of the cool, comfortable hotel into the morning heat of the day and into the charming area of old town Cartagena. The beauty of the city was alluring and the sleepy version we saw on Christmas Day was romantic and even poetic. We meandered the tiny cobblestone streets in awe. The humid, soft sunlight bathed us in a nurturing lullaby that we so desperately needed after the boat. The city seduced us instantly.
We rested back at the hotel before dinner, soothed by the whir of the air conditioning while the hot midday sun roared outside. Snuggled close to my son, Jesse on the other side, we fell asleep. When we awoke, the night sounds of Cartagena teased us out into a completely different world than the one that greeted us that morning. Music and laughter filled the streets and a magical atmosphere danced around us. We wondered into a restaurant just a few doors down from our hotel that served fabulous food and decent wine (thank you Santa!). Heat radiated off the walls and streets and mixed with a cool breeze. The air was rich with tropical flowers and Cuban cigars and everything twinkled in beautiful Christmas lights. This was definitely unlike any other Christmas we have ever had, but the exotic nature of it tingled the senses and I soaked in every moment.
*We gave a special cheers over dinner to an amazing woman we had learned we had lost on Christmas Eve, much too soon. She loved travel and would have loved the adventure we were having. She was a truly special person and will be greatly missed.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
My exhausted, drained boy opened his sleepy eyes and looked at me. I smiled and said "Merry Christmas love bug", I worried that Christmas being so different after such an intense boat trip might send him into an "I hate Colombia" fixation. He frowned slightly and rolled over, under his breath saying 'Merry Christmas' back. My husband, Jesse, adorable as ever and NOT a Christmas fan, sat up in bed and excitedly said "hey, looks like Santa came!". Clearly our sour, sarcastic, brilliant 11 year old child does not believe in Santa, but he does believe in celebration and gifts. Our son's eyes opened big and wide and he popped out of bed, ran over to the sad set-up on the table we'd created and delighted in reading the "paper gifts" I'd written out. He was so elated, and probably as relieved that we had done something, as I was to see a smile on his face.
Despite feeling like Hemingway's book 'Old Man and The Sea', completely beat down, we dragged ourselves out of the cool, comfortable hotel into the morning heat of the day and into the charming area of old town Cartagena. The beauty of the city was alluring and the sleepy version we saw on Christmas Day was romantic and even poetic. We meandered the tiny cobblestone streets in awe. The humid, soft sunlight bathed us in a nurturing lullaby that we so desperately needed after the boat. The city seduced us instantly.
We rested back at the hotel before dinner, soothed by the whir of the air conditioning while the hot midday sun roared outside. Snuggled close to my son, Jesse on the other side, we fell asleep. When we awoke, the night sounds of Cartagena teased us out into a completely different world than the one that greeted us that morning. Music and laughter filled the streets and a magical atmosphere danced around us. We wondered into a restaurant just a few doors down from our hotel that served fabulous food and decent wine (thank you Santa!). Heat radiated off the walls and streets and mixed with a cool breeze. The air was rich with tropical flowers and Cuban cigars and everything twinkled in beautiful Christmas lights. This was definitely unlike any other Christmas we have ever had, but the exotic nature of it tingled the senses and I soaked in every moment.
*We gave a special cheers over dinner to an amazing woman we had learned we had lost on Christmas Eve, much too soon. She loved travel and would have loved the adventure we were having. She was a truly special person and will be greatly missed.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Monday, January 1, 2018
The Greatest Gift of All
At some point during the night, the boat quieted and the ocean settled to a soft lull of ripples not waves. As we woke from our Dramamine stupor, we heard shouts of urgency "Pack up! We are going to land!". The motor had blown the day before so we relied strictly on sailing which slowed our progression and lengthened our journey. It was now Christmas Eve and we were "hell and gone from Cartagena" to quote Romancing the Stone, when the wind died. It's called "the doldrums" when the wind dies completely, but should be called the 'you-gotta-be-freakin-kidding-me-drums'. We sat at a stand still until the Captain called in a small boat to rescue us. The relief poured over us like a sip of chilled white wine on a hot summer afternoon.
It is interesting that the part that broke on the motor was an easy fix. It is interesting that the 1st mate said he could fix it. It is interesting that most boats carry the spare part needed. It is interesting that the goodbye from the captain was "you finally can get off the boat since I know you all hate sailing". What a jerk! How could he not want that part fixed? Had he made the choice to keep us rocking on the wild ocean an additional 13 hours for his amusement? Was it a punishment? What was this guy's deal? The truth is, after that 48 hour crossing, we all hated sailing, every single one of us. It had been in the Captain's hands to explain what was happening, to tell us about what we were seeing and experiencing, but he did not. We loaded into the small motorboat that delightfully played next to our boat and flew through the water toward land. I am surprised there wasn't a full boat of single finger salutes to the Captain.
An hour later and we saw the dock. Saw the dock, but couldn't get to it. The small boat would now be forced to surf crashing waves, waiting for an opportunity to smash onto shore. Ya, the fun was not over yet. Each of us looked at each other in disbelief, land was so close yet our death seemed immanent. Screams echoed as the boat leaped into the air and dropped back into the water over and over. Then suddenly we slid ferociously toward the shore, men that had been watching us jumped into the water to help guide the boat. It was amazing to see so many people there to help; my gratitude was immense.
Cartagena would be a 45 min taxi and 4 hour bus ride...followed by another 1/2 hour taxi from the small village we crash landed in. A shower was within reach and felt like the best early Christmas gift in the world.
Our hotel, located in the old town, was clean and spacious. The area was alive with cafes, mini markets and restaurants. The light was golden in color and the humid, hot air hugged us. Colorful flags draped from building to building over our heads feeling like a joyous welcome. That evening we met up with our co-survivors at a hostel for drinks and a loving goodbye. Everyone would be travelling in different directions from there, but the bond was beyond words and we made promises to visit each other in the future.
As my hubby and I strolled the one block back to our hotel and waiting son (a shower, clean bed and WiFi was pure heaven to him and there was no way he was leaving that cradle of comfort), we stopped in little shops and collected a pitiful selection of items to put under the "Christmas Tree" for a surprise the next morning. In an attempt to buoy our child for the rest of our trip, we wanted to give him some amount of a Christmas. We had celebrated at home before we left, but in a household that goes over the top for celebrating, we couldn't have nothing happen on the actual day. Our son's maturity always surprises me, wise beyond his years, he said gratefully that the gift was being off the boat and being on this vacation. His 11 year old eyes reflected the hardship he had been through surviving the boat and it pierced my heart sharply. Quietly I wrote on pieces of paper promises of gifts to come, a new book of his choice, an activity for the family, an ice cream...simple little things, then once he fell asleep, I created a sad little "tree" from water bottles and littered the few items we'd collected along with the pieces of paper at the base. I laid down in the crisp sheets, air conditioning battling back the warmth of the colorful city; I still rocked as if on the boat, not fully acclimated to land yet. That night we slept deeply, appreciative to be where we were and together. it was a truly Dickens Christmas moment.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
It is interesting that the part that broke on the motor was an easy fix. It is interesting that the 1st mate said he could fix it. It is interesting that most boats carry the spare part needed. It is interesting that the goodbye from the captain was "you finally can get off the boat since I know you all hate sailing". What a jerk! How could he not want that part fixed? Had he made the choice to keep us rocking on the wild ocean an additional 13 hours for his amusement? Was it a punishment? What was this guy's deal? The truth is, after that 48 hour crossing, we all hated sailing, every single one of us. It had been in the Captain's hands to explain what was happening, to tell us about what we were seeing and experiencing, but he did not. We loaded into the small motorboat that delightfully played next to our boat and flew through the water toward land. I am surprised there wasn't a full boat of single finger salutes to the Captain.
An hour later and we saw the dock. Saw the dock, but couldn't get to it. The small boat would now be forced to surf crashing waves, waiting for an opportunity to smash onto shore. Ya, the fun was not over yet. Each of us looked at each other in disbelief, land was so close yet our death seemed immanent. Screams echoed as the boat leaped into the air and dropped back into the water over and over. Then suddenly we slid ferociously toward the shore, men that had been watching us jumped into the water to help guide the boat. It was amazing to see so many people there to help; my gratitude was immense.
Cartagena would be a 45 min taxi and 4 hour bus ride...followed by another 1/2 hour taxi from the small village we crash landed in. A shower was within reach and felt like the best early Christmas gift in the world.
Our hotel, located in the old town, was clean and spacious. The area was alive with cafes, mini markets and restaurants. The light was golden in color and the humid, hot air hugged us. Colorful flags draped from building to building over our heads feeling like a joyous welcome. That evening we met up with our co-survivors at a hostel for drinks and a loving goodbye. Everyone would be travelling in different directions from there, but the bond was beyond words and we made promises to visit each other in the future.
As my hubby and I strolled the one block back to our hotel and waiting son (a shower, clean bed and WiFi was pure heaven to him and there was no way he was leaving that cradle of comfort), we stopped in little shops and collected a pitiful selection of items to put under the "Christmas Tree" for a surprise the next morning. In an attempt to buoy our child for the rest of our trip, we wanted to give him some amount of a Christmas. We had celebrated at home before we left, but in a household that goes over the top for celebrating, we couldn't have nothing happen on the actual day. Our son's maturity always surprises me, wise beyond his years, he said gratefully that the gift was being off the boat and being on this vacation. His 11 year old eyes reflected the hardship he had been through surviving the boat and it pierced my heart sharply. Quietly I wrote on pieces of paper promises of gifts to come, a new book of his choice, an activity for the family, an ice cream...simple little things, then once he fell asleep, I created a sad little "tree" from water bottles and littered the few items we'd collected along with the pieces of paper at the base. I laid down in the crisp sheets, air conditioning battling back the warmth of the colorful city; I still rocked as if on the boat, not fully acclimated to land yet. That night we slept deeply, appreciative to be where we were and together. it was a truly Dickens Christmas moment.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)