Lost City Trek

Day 1 – The fellowship is formed

After a quick slog through town at 6:30am, we meet our ride with the Expotur agency we’ve booked the trek with. Back down the windy road we go to Santa Marta, this time in a chunky 4×4 jeep. We make it to the agency office in good time, where we find a tiny room filled with desks and tens of people and big back-packs filling the too small space, all chatting away in what seems to be German. I start to wonder how much of the Duolingo German I learnt last year I still remember.

After much Colombian chaos, we are divided into two groups, and we’re relieved to find we’ve been put together with a Canadian/British couple on holiday, a Danish guy making the most of the Christmas break at uni, a British couple travelling, Danish twin sisters also travelling, and a guy from the USA. We are relieved once more that our first language of English is going to be the common language of the group, and I won’t just be yelling “Hallo!” at our groupmates for four days! We also meet our guide, Sixto, his translator, Carlos, a uni student, and our assistant guide Bryan.

After being bundled into the back of two jeeps, we’re thrown about as the road turns from tarmac to solidified mud lumps as we all cling on to the sides hoping to not concussed ourselves or be sick from all the winding up from the coast into the cloud forest and our starting point.

We are given a hearty lunch by our cook Postaza (I think) who we also now meet, and get a brief round-up of the next few days, for our out-and-back trek. As the email has warned us, the route is “mostly uphills with some downhills”. I still don’t understand how this is possible with an out-and-back, but so it is, and we set off up the road and into the sun.

The first leg is hot, sunny, humid, and uphill, and it doesn’t take long at all before we’re all literally dripping with sweat.

We have a few snack stops on the way up where we’re given gloriously fresh watermelon, try a really tasty coffee bean and honey mixture, and also see the most terrifying spider we’ve ever witnessed just hanging out in an orange juice spot (Google Joro spider if you want some nightmare fuel).

This first day is our only short day of the four, but it’s definitely challenging us to get into the groove of hiking with heavy packs again, especially in heat. We stop off at a viewpoint where Yas, the guy from the USA, mocks our use of the disposable camera. “Sure, if you want to do it the old fashioned way” he smirks as he unleashes his buzzing high-tech drone. “9 metres” he instructs to it by voice, as it whirrs backwards straight into a tree and drops to the ground like a stone. We don’t need to say anything as we watch him fish for his device in the bushes. We’ll stick with the disposable and phone cameras for now!

Thankfully the path moves into some overgrowth as we enjoy the shade and respite from the intensely hot sun. The terrain now changes from pure white sand, to bright orange clay, and another guide shows us how we can ‘tattoo’ our skin the ferns on the side of the road (don’t worry parents, it sweated off in seconds).

Our first day ends with us at the Blue Roof Campsite, where we all head down to enjoy the refreshing river water below. This one is deep enough to enjoy a jump in from the high rocks above it, or delicately climb in via a ladder. James opts for the jump!

James’s first attempt at river washing some of his clothes results in him falling back in, maybe next time!

These river stops end up being a lifeline as each leg rapidly increases our temperature and stickiness levels to uncomfortable degrees, with the river cooling and cleaning us off each time.

We head back for a lovely meal of fried Mojarra fish, prepared for us by Postaza. We’re allocated our beds, which are bunk beds stacked next to one another each with its own individual mosquito net. Despite our early start, early lunch and early dinner, we’re not ready to head to bed just yet, so we teach some of our group how to play Shithead, and Carlos teaches us 4-4-3, a Colombian card game. After a few rounds, we all call it a night and hope for a good night’s sleep before our first full hiking day.

Clambering into my top bunk, as the lights are turned off at 9pm, my torch illuminates the white netting a foot above my head, giving the impression of being in a coffin. Best close my eyes and not think about that one too much eh!

10km, 613m elevation gain

Day 2 – “happy hour”

We ‘awake’ at 5am after a not hugely successful night’s sleep. The platform the beds are on bounces at anyone moving along it, including the dog who is enjoying the late-night zoomies. There’s also a gate that bangs shut with each human/dog entry/exit. My bedding smells so damp I find it rather difficult to breath. The mattress creaks every-time you move a muscle. And there’s an orchestra of snoring around us. The joys of dorm sleeping! But there’s no time to mourn the sleep we’ve lost, as it’s time for a hearty breakfast and groans of disappointment as everyone realises their wet clothes they hung up the night before are still soaking. A quick pack-up and we’re ready to go again at 6am.

We retrace our steps towards the river we swam in yesterday. This time we cross a bridge over the water and keep going through streams and forest, much cooler than the day before, but still hot and humid.

Our next stop is to join a talk by two men from the Wiwa indigenous community, who still live here, having survived the conquistadors and other challenges to their way of life. We learn about the goard and wheel he is constantly rubbing with a stick, as he explains this is a process of transference of thoughts, as he thinks and ponders and rubs the stick around the outside, ‘writing’ his thoughts like a journal, except not with words, but spiritually. They also play us some music, teach us about what the different colour fabrics mean, explain that they always have two bags (to represent the two peaks), they always wear white to represent their purity with their culture, they don’t shake hands to say hello but exchange coca leaves, their goard with wheel ‘diary’ is their equivalent to a passport, and they make their fabric from the threads of the Ficay plant (that looks like aloe vera but isn’t). This last bit is the same as what we were also shown down in Arequipa, it’s interesting to see how disparate tribes and communities had commonalities. What I’d really like to know is how they keep their clothes so white!!!

We continue on to the next challenging terrain of a clay quagmire. The rich, red soil here is basically clay, and the combination of water, feet and hooves has churned up the ground so much it’s now a game of “find a route that won’t suck in your shoes”. Thankfully we all make it out alive with both shoes still attached to our feet and we next stop at a settlement of the Wiwa community, Mutanyi, where Sixto gives us more information about their lives.

The buildings are built in a circular shape to reflect the sun god. Meeting rooms are rectangular. They don’t use concrete or modern materials, just the trees and plants around them. Girls wear necklaces and slant their tunics to show one specific shoulder exposed. Boys wear shorts. Sex is only to procreate, and they only do it outdoors away from their homes. The homes we see are not a permanent village they constantly live in as they are a semi-nomadic people. Charity organisations donate solar panels and education to the community. After all, some of the community have mobile phones which need charging.

One of our group asks about whether or not it’s possible to convert to their way of life and ‘marry’ in. If you’re a man wanting to join a woman of the community, you must relinquish all possessions and clothes, and not wash or brush your teeth for seven years, nor cut your hair. Women don’t have as many rules to follow, although I forget which ones they were/weren’t. I ask if they are having any problem with the younger members being enticed away from their lives to western civilisation and we’re told not. I find out later that they consider their purpose on this planet is to protect pachamama, and seeing a bunch of westerners trample through their terrain probably just reinforces the need for them to stay and protect the land rather than entice them to a life of shallow consumerism. If one of the community were to leave, they would not be allowed back to live, they could only visit.

We continue on walking until our lunch spot where we have a swim in the river again. This time it’s a fast flowing shallow patch where, if you lie flat, you can let the current pull you downstream. A natural waterslide if you will. It’s a fun game and we are much refreshed for another hearty lunch.

We’re then off again for a brief stint before coming to what is sarcastically called “happy hour”, which is definitely not happy, but is instead an hour of pure uphill torture. Thankfully, there is a tray of pineapple and orange awaiting us at the top once more to help us replenish all the water we’ve once again sweated out of our eyeballs.

Once more we’re off for the final leg to our campsite for the night, before we go and ‘find’ the Lost City tomorrow.

We continue our tradition of cooling down and washing off the days activities in the river. We’re higher up here and there’s a hint of rain in the air. The water is colder than it was downstream but is a welcomed change.

Following another filling meal we play a couple of rounds of cards with the group, though we are fighting to stay awake. We all brush our teeth and head to our netted bunks for some much needed rest.

The dorms get smellier and filthier as the amount of dank clothing everyone lugs increases, creating a stench that can’t be described. At least we’re on concrete ground here so the beds don’t shake and there’s only a snoring soloist. Small mercies!

18km, 286m up, 320m down, 340m up, then various ups and downs

Day 3 – The Lost City

Today we make it to the Lost City. Despite some of our group keen to see the sunrise, Sixto advises against doing the walk in the dark, and most of the group just want to sleep. It’s still an early start though at 5am again, although one after a much better night’s sleep. Arguably one of the best things about today is we don’t have to carry our bags with us because we’re coming back to camp on our way back. Rejoice! You don’t know how much of a huge difference this makes. With pockets stuffed with repellent and sunblock, we start the path as the sun comes up before making it to the dreaded final 1200 steps up to the city.

On the Inca Trail we were warned about the ‘gringo killer’, that was a short stint up some incredibly steep stairs. By comparison to these 1200 steps, that gringo killer was a mere mugging. These steps are winding and seem never ending (no-one is counting of course!). In many parts they are narrow and slippy, so we all take our time to not slip and wipe out our entire group.

The steps finally stop and we emerge next to a shallow wall where we see others stopped. I guess we made it…? The entrance is underwhelming when compared to the other sites we’ve walked to, but just as you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, the Lost City has a lot more to reveal.

Sixto now gives us a bit of an intro to the site and the route for the day.

We stop off in various spots to take photos and get more lessons. As we wander the site, it opens up and up and up, into the vast city for which it is named. It really is huge. A sprawling city of circular, stone platforms in, around and through the jungle. These platforms are where the Tayrona people would have built their homes and other buildings, just as we’ve seen them built by the Wiwa culture of today.

We’re shown a big rock that is set to resemble the snowy peaks in the distance, the horizontal lines are the paths leading through the Sierra Nevada, the vertical lines are the rivers from the mountains, and there’s even a little pool of water for the lagoons. Of course in the photo it just looks like a rock:

We continue to meander through the city, admiring the incredible views of the cloud forest around us. People believe it was constructed here for the vantage-point it gave them to see anyone coming. They would mostly keep to themselves, but they would need to go to the coast for food and shells to fill the goards.

Whilst they managed to live in relative isolation, once the Spaniards came, of course that all changed. With them came diseases like Yellow Fever and Tuberculosis, which starting wiping people out. Due to the spread of illness, the people abandoned the city believing it to be damned, and so it was left to crumble and collapse and the people hid from others and the diseases they carried. I guess this is where they started becoming semi-nomadic and the different tribes of the area split off.

We mosey on down to the second-to-last part of the city, where some of the buildings have been recreated, and a small girl sells us some bracelets. Yas, the guy from the USA, generously pays for us all to get one. Sixto also shows us how they dyed their fabrics, by using it as warpaint on us. “Those who don’t have it don’t get lunch”, Jim runs to the front.

The last section is a restored part of the city. We’ve been really lucky with the weather, clouding over for the walks to keep us slightly less hot, but for this section the sun has graced us with its presence and we have been able to enjoy it in all its glorious green and blue beauty.

It’s a three hour tour, and having hit our mid-point of the entire trek, it’s time to start the long road back, beginning with the same 1200 steps we just clambered up a few hours earlier. It’s a lot harder going down than up, so we’re all taking it easy, and holding our breaths at each sound of a slip hoping we don’t all get bowled down by a rogue slip.

Thankfully we all make it back in one piece and we have lunch at camp again. Our clothes are still completely soaked through. Nothing dries here!

So, time for the last leg of this long day back to where we had lunch the day before, just another 10km! Unfortunately when I get there, I realise I’ve lost my bikini (or someone took it) at the previous camp. Nevertheless my clothes are soaked through so it’s no difference to swimming in them again. The river feels a lot colder this time, but we celebrate our last night out in the forest with some beers whilst we paddle in the river. We enjoy our last dinner together as a group, but not as much as the tables around us. They’re doing dances, drinking, playing games and music, the food hall is now a cacophony of noise, of which I’m too tired to shout over so call it an early night. After all, we have another 18km to walk tomorrow! The rest stay up a bit longer, but most are in bed by 8:30pm, hoping for a good sleep…

Except one of the Wiwa staff at camp has been enjoying himself too much, and our block that happens to face the hanging hammocks of staff opposite gets a lovely rendition of him violently retching and spitting on repeat. Just when you think it might be over, and your mind drifts off, the loud retching cuts through the peace and quiet of the jungle campsite like a knife as you get another unwanted encore. Needless to say, it’s not a good night sleep for most of us.

Day 4 – Long road home

Another early start of course. We’re all smelly, damp and tired. But this is the last day, we can do it! I’m feeling so tired I don’t have much for breakfast thinking I’m feeling a bit sick from exhaustion, but my belly then tells me otherwise. Was about time for another spot of tummy trouble!

Thankfully it’s nothing like the cramps I’ve had in Bolivia, and all it does is spur me on to smash through to our next campground where there is a free toilet. Headphones in, podcasts distracting me from the waving grumbles, I’m passing groups like my life depends on it, but there’s no beating Bryan, our group’s mountain goat guide who keeps overtaking me no matter what lead I seem to get over him! The sun is still blazing, but thankfully we’re sheltered in the canopy. Every so often it opens up and the views are glorious.

The weather has not only blessed us during the day, but also at night, by reserving all of her rain for when we’ve been tucked up inside. This has now had a vast impact on that muddy quagmire we plodded down on day two, as this is now a steep incline with the added challenge of no solid route to follow. The mostly solid paths we managed to navigate on the way down are now also just sludge, and many a step is placed into an unexpectedly soft lump that sinks, swallowing your foot down. Our sticks are a lifeline to keep us upright, and our boots to keep our feet dry and clean. Not everyone is so lucky as various mud-caked shoes arrive to our next snack-stop.

After a drink and a cake, it’s time for the final push. My belly has calmed down with nothing in it, so I decide to walk with James and Lottie now, and we try and pass the time with 20 questions. It’s a long, hard, slog for the final section. Our bags are digging into our shoulders, and our bodies are so tired that the steep decline that we struggled up on day one feels neverending, and our feet and toes are all struggling to the constant pressure against out shoes. Add in the midday sun roasting our skin to the mix too! It’s long and arduous, but of course we do it. If we’ve learnt anything from our running crew Chasing Lights, it’s how to keep going when you think you can’t go anymore.

We regroup with everyone at our first lunch spot, and collapse into the chairs. Yas the drone-obsessed American is fast asleep, catching flies at the lunch table, after hiring a mule to bring him back due to knee trouble. A few looks of approval and satisfaction amongst the exhausted group while we all silently catch our breath and comprehend what we’ve just done. Lottie is also now feeling rather unwell along with a few others in the group, so James gets to eat three lunches. Everyone is just looking forward to a shower and a bed, so the farewells are fairly subdued as we hurry off to our jeep that’ll drop us elsewhere to the rest of our group.

Back into the jeep and the windiest, bumpiest journey to rival any dune buggy ride at Huacachina, Lottie does an amazing job holding out on the journey as nausea set in before we even left, as the rest of us also hold our breath and our bellies to make it without incident. It’s with huge relief then when we see the sign for our hotel, quickly check-in, down a welcome drink, rinse off all the layers of mud and dirt and sweat, and collapse for some much needed sleep and aircon.

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Lottie’s Thoughts

I was certainly in at the deep end for my first multi-day hike, however where the trek was challenging it was equally rewarding. I’ve never experienced sweat falling off me so much before, but never have I enjoyed plunging into a cool jungle river as much either! I think the part I enjoyed most was not looking at a screen for four days and instead being surrounded by unbelievable jungle scenery, bird song and just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. It’s definitely given me an appetite for more multi day hiking adventures!

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Adventure – Witnessing an indigenous community going about their day to day in real time, not lost to history and textbooks. Not knowing what was ahead, compared to other treks we went into this one fairly blind.

Excitement – Taking on the challenge of the Lost City Trek, we read it is one of the most difficult hikes in South America. River swims to cool off. Learning a new card game.

Trauma – Constant sweating. Nothing drying out and everything stinking of damp, even our clean stuff!