Tag Archives: mountains

Frankton

After just a few days in central Queenstown, me and my surfboard were on the move again, in search of cheaper pillows on which to rest my head. My search took me to Frankton, a 10 minute hitch from town and to a unique living situation. I was lucky enough to get a couch surfing spot with a friendly Manc who just happened to be under house arrest. Far from dodgy, it was a a enjoyable few days and a lovely lakeside spot to call my home from home. Surrounded by Brits for one of the first times on my travels (I was joined by a Yorkshire couch surfer), we had more than a few mugs of wine between us that night. I woke to beautiful clear blue skies and just a bit of a headache. Lacing up my trainers I trotted off to enjoy a different perspective of Lake Wakatipu to the ones I had enjoyed in Queenstown.

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My run took me along a treat of a trail which curved up alongside the Shotover river. The glacial water of the river glints a magical turquoisey-blue and is fresh and safe to drink. I enjoyed gorgeous views along the river, over wildflower meadows and up towards The Remarkables; a mountain range so called since it is the only one in the world which lies precisely South to North.

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Despite the majestic mountainous surroundings, motivation was failing me after 15 minutes or so. I turned back and enjoyed the same views just as much the second time round. After some half-arsed push ups by the lake I collapsed and enjoyed a spiritual laze in the grass. Gazing up to the beautiful blue sky through a golden tree it dawned on me that autumn is well under way here in New Zealand. My winter avoidance, after 14 months will be coming to an end soon. I’ll have to start saving for some leggings!

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Quilotoa

After my less-than-raving review of La Laguna de Latacunga, in support of fairness and balance, I thought I should write about a really spectacular lagoon not so far away. Even though it doesn’t involve me running. The lagoon sits in the crater of an dormant volcano, Quilotoa, a couple of hours from Latacunga.

Life in Latacunga, whilst I am volunteering at a pre-school ‘teaching English’, is the most hermit-esque I have experienced on my travels so far. I’m a very positive person, so my lack of words on this town could speak volumes. Hence I was excited to escape the drudge on a volcanic/mountainous/lagoon adventure with a friend at the weekend.

The first leg of our journey was a bus ride from Latacunga, up (further) into the mountains to Zumbahua. Zumbahua is a small town at 3700m altitude, populated by indigenous, or Quechua people. After getting off the bus we wandered around the market, and I got an idea of the everyday essentials in Zumbahuan life. We did stick out a fair bit; my fair hair; our backpacks; not to mention standing (at least) head and shoulders over 90% of everyone. Actually maybe 100%. My friend overheard a woman telling her child to behave themselves, or the gringos would take them away! I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed not to see the cui (guinea pig), bargaining we’d heard took place here, and we took a car onwards to Quilotoa.

The Quilotoa crater and lagoon are not visible as you approach, only when you walk up to the edge of the rim, can you see the incredible picture-postcard view. Because of this, I couldn’t manage to get the whole thing in one photo (even on panoramic mode; I tried).

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The descent into the crater is a steep and sandy incline. Although not easy on the legs, the beautiful scenery made it far less than a chore. After breathing in the beauty for a while we reached the shore of the lagoon and took a leisurely paddle around in a kayak. Supposedly dormant, there was still evidence of volcanic activity which we found in hot water seeping from the rocks, painting them bright red and orange with mineral deposits, and natural jacuzzis bubbling up to the surface of the lake.

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Back on shore we set up camp, collected firewood, and watched the sun go down behind the steep walls of Quilotoa which surrounded us. After a not-so sound night’s sleep, with strong winds and hard ground, waking up to the views of the lagoon made it worth it. One aspect which was particularly incredible was the reflections of the sky and the clouds on the lagoon. Being so close to the clouds, their shadows painted a flowing, dramatic contrast of colours on the surface of the vast lagoon.

Later in the day it was time to make the dreaded ascent back up to the mouth of the crater. Aside from the steep and slippy terrain, we were making the climb up to 3900m altitude. We took it slow and edged our way back up, taking a while longer than on the way down, and meeting some llamas on the way. They weren’t really as friendly as they might look in this photo.

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Minca

The general attitudes of travellers towards sleeping in hamacas (hammocks) are not the greatest. People seem to think it’s something they need to try, but don’t prioritise revisiting. Not me. I can’t get enough of those badboys. And when I found out that a hostel with the worlds’ biggest hammock was up in the mountains, above the town I was staying, I set my sights on the hamacaphile’s main contender.

Minca is accessible from Santa Marta by a collectivo, or shared car/taxi. Basically you turn up on the street corner for Minca collectivos, wait until there are enough passengers to fill a pick up truck and then set off together. After an hour or so of driving up the bumpy mountain roads, we arrived in Minca. It seemed like a peaceful one-horse (multiple motorbike) kind of town. Casa Elemento, aka Hammock Heaven, was yet further still up the mountains and my journey continued. The hostel is accessed by either mototaxi (motorbike taxi), or a two hour hike from Minca. I opted for the energetic, and certainly safer, second option.

The hike took me up a steep mountain track, through the jungle and past farms and coffee plantations. There is a lot of bamboo in South America. Don’t know why. But the jungle path was dotted with huge congregations of bamboo reaching 10 metres and higher into the increasingly cloudy skies. With the ascent, the stifling Caribbean heat was diminishing, and humidity was rising. I stopped off at a jungle survival school half way up, where I chatted to the British owner over a fresh tropical juice before continuing my trek. Toby, a dog from Casa Elemento had been chilling with his friends down at the jungle school and kindly accompanied me for the remaining hour. He was setting the pace a fair few metres ahead, but stopped to check on me and make sure I knew where I was going every so often.

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A few mototaxis passed me on the way up, small off-road style motorbikes balanced precariously with a driver, passenger and often huge rucksack. I was getting tired and a bit jealous of the high-octane option over the hike. After nearly 2 hours of sweaty uphill trekking, a sign at the side of the road reinvigorated me. I pushed on for the final fragment up the long steep path.

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What awaited me at the top of the mountain was well worth the challenging journey. A mountain paradise of hammocks, jungle, spectacular views and top quality people was my home for the night. Anyone visiting North Colombia must stay at Casa Elemento! It was a one night only thing as I was flying to Medellin the next day. I could have stayed for a week. After a heavenly and hedonistic 24 hours I traversed back down the mountain to Minca. My final treat to myself was the exhilarating mototaxi ride down; zipping through the jungle to whoops and beeps of the driver, the wind through my hair and the sun on my face.

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