Mountains and More Mountains

The drive from Medellin was a marathon and we made it to Cali, with Jim at the wheel for 11 hours.  Leaving Medellin, we climbed on slow, winding roads for hours behind dozens and dozens of very slow freight trucks and busses.  The mountains of Colombia are gorgeous and never seem to end; our speed averages about 35-40 mph, and our driving skills are challenged passing the trucks around hair pin curves in the driving rain.  

Although I have flown into Cali several times, I have not spent any time in the City.   St. Maria, our GPS, did a fine job of guiding us into the City directly to the hotel about 10 pm. Cali is not what you would call an attractive city, so the following morning we did not spend any time looking around.  I'm sure it has it's attractions, but they sure weren't apparent to us.  As we were loading the Little Red Truck (LRT) in front of the  hotel, we were approached by a gentleman, looking very local, carrying a bunch of mops and brooms to sell.  We were about to politely say "no gracias" and turn him away, as we do the hundreds of locals that approach us daily to sell everything from fruit to candy to drinks, etc., but he merely said "wow, Utah plates, did you drive all this way?"  He introduced himself as an American and said he was born and raised in the US , but had been living in Cali the last 14 years.  "A little trouble back home, so here I am", he said.  We interpreted that to mean he skipped the country after trouble with the law, but we were too polite to ask for details.  After a pleasant chat, we sent him on his way with his mops and brooms, and no, we didn't buy.

Today's drive was a complete surprise...our goal was to get close to the border of Ecuador, and we figured it would be a relatively easy, uninteresting drive in the lowlands.  But nooooo, after the first hour, up, up, up we went back, back into the high mountains, with everything that goes with them...eye poping beauty, narrow windy roads, and the endless stream of trucks.  As darkness set in, we reached the town of Pasto, a surprisingly large city of over 300,000 people.  Set at about 9,000 feet in elevation, we are chilled in our sandals and shorts.  For the next two hours, we did our best to act out an old Laurel and Hardy movie by getting lost in Pasto's spaghetti bowl of narrow one way streets, with heavy traffic, and hoards of pedestrians and motorbikes.  It seems that St. Maria, the GPS, does not understand the concept of one-way streets...that means that 50 percent of the time, she is lying to us, and that means trouble driving in a large Colombian metro area at night.  The good news is, the upset Pasto motorists and pedestrians will never see us again.  

We managed to make it to a Pollo Feliz chain restaurant and regroup over a cheap meal, and with wifi service, found the address of a hotel who's address we could punch in to the GPS. Upon leaving, it seemed natural that the course of events would include the LRT not starting, demonstrating the same problem we encountered in Mexico. So, with a pair of two kind security guards, we pushed the vehicle until it started by compression.  Eight minutes and another wrong way drive down a one-way street later, we found a good hotel...sanctuary!  

Once safely in the hotel, I checked my emails, only to find out that I left my passport in Cali, at our previous hotel.  At hearing the news, Jim's deep sigh and silence demonstrated his kindness and restraint after a long, grueling day on the road.  I merely retreated to my room to write this entry and put and end to a long day.