Feisty Fusagasugueños

When it comes to nearby escapes from the madness of Bogotá, we're not stuck for options. There's Choachí, Girardot, La Vega, Melgar, Pandi, Tobia and Villeta to name just some of the places we're familiar with. Each of those differs in terms of their tranquillity factor, but all are unquestionably more relaxing than the capital city.

We can't, however, say the same for the big town -- city by Irish standards -- of Fusagasugá. OK, on the weather front, it scores well; warmer than Bogotá, but not too stickily hot as some of the locations mentioned above can be. Yet, with a population of over 130,000, it's not quite a peaceful rural getaway.

Fusagasugá: It has a couple of things going for it, in fairness.

In fairness, it's not marketed as that. Well, it's not marketed at all really, and with reason considering there doesn't seem much of interest to draw tourists. The pull factors tend to have nothing to do with the urban centre. For most of those who do go to the area, it's all about the rural retreats dotted around.

Yet cities and towns that don't rate high on the popularity scale have an attraction for us and, usually, we aren't disappointed (if you go not expecting too much, then it's easy to be satisfied; for example see previous posts on Buenaventura, Maicao and Turbo, to name just three).

So a stay in the centre of Fusagasugá with a couple of like-minded Irishmen seemed like a win-win plan. And in many ways, it was.

For starters, it's reasonably cheap in terms of food, drink and accommodation, especially compared to Bogotá. What's more, unlike some towns close to the capital and other locations in the regions, there is an abundance of well-kept attractive ladies about (that is to say, not carrying far too many pounds than they should be; each to their own and all that). Then you have the aforementioned agreeable climate.

That's about as good as it gets, though.

On arrival, not having a Colombian cédula (national ID) for the hotels there was a bit of a problem. It was hard work trying to convince them to let us stay. 

You would have thought that the Colombian-issued cédula extranjería, the compulsory ID all visa-holding foreigners must have, would have worked fine. But no. After a long chat with one receptionist we managed to convince her that all would be OK. If the police had any issue -- the reason behind this reluctance to check us in -- we'd speak with them directly. 

Pity those arriving with just a foreign passport, they'd have no chance it seems. This, though, rarely happens, it would seem.

Then there's the "people on edge" feel to things. Many appear to be lacking that relaxed, happy-go-lucky style that you'll find with Colombians in most other places (peak commuting hours in Bogotá excepted). No, in Fusagasugá it was more a "what are you doing here" attitude from a number of its inhabitants, and not in a friendly way, that.

One good representation of this was an off-duty policeman giving one of us an earful for, so it appeared anyway, no more than just because we were foreigners.

All this negativity might be down to the fact that the place tends to get types of a less-than-desirable nature spilling over from Bogotá -- the word for them in these parts being 'ñero'. Just a thought.

Now, not everybody was in fighting form it has to be said. The onset of dusk, however, is the signal for the feisty Fusagasugueños to come out in force.

So if you're planning to let the hair down in Fusagasugá some weekend, it's probably best to do it by day; leave the locals to their own devices at night.
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Buenaventura's dirty delights

It shouldn’t come as a major surprise to regular readers that we’re not averse to squalid settings every now and again. It’s just as well, of course, for as beautiful as Colombia is in a natural sense, many — but not all it must be said — of its urban dwellings make European rubbish tips seem idyllic. 

Last year we had the pleasure of checking out two such ‘dirty towns’, Turbo (see 'Turbo Living' http://bit.ly/SVtkWW) and Maicao (see 'Dirty Old Town' http://bit.ly/VG94Ho). You could also throw a large portion of Bogotá – our home, on and off, for the last 15 months – onto this list.*

Adding a bit of colour to the natural environment.

It’s not that we enjoy the dirt or take some sort of perverted satisfaction from seeing it strewn about the place, far from it. But scrape back a bit of the material waste and in most of these places — less so, perhaps, in the sprawling metropolis of Bogotá — you’ll find extremely friendly, laid-back people (laid-back to the point that collecting rubbish is seen as a waste of time — ‘Sure won’t Mother Nature break it down after a while?’) with what appears to be a generally healthy attitude to life.

So sticking to type, this is pretty much what we found in Colombia’s Pacific coast city of Buenaventura. 

Now, it was for reasons of transport that we had to pass through the place, our final destination being Bahía Solano, a tranquil little coastal town further north, reachable only — unless, that is, you fancy a wild trek through inhospitable jungle (next time) — by boat or plane (we took the former option, hence the stop in Buenaventura).

In fairness, and as is the case with Turbo and Maicao, the fact that most of the respected travel books on Colombia suggest giving the city a wide berth or if you have to stay for some reason then just make it brief, we were always tempted to check it out on its own merits. Not just using it as a transport hub that is.

Indeed, it does still see a fair number of visitors. And mirroring Colombia as a whole this number is increasing all the time, although many of these are just passing through, visiting some of the beaches that are short speedboat rides away (our destination of Bahía Solano, on the other hand, is a much longer trip – more on that in the coming weeks). 

The fact that it is also the most important port city on the country’s Pacific coast means that it gets plenty of sailors coming and going, too. So foreign faces are not uncommon.

Well, at least there's a positive outlook as regards the rubbish.

It is, though, home to a large number of Afro-Colombians, so the whiter your skin, the more you stand out. This can be both a good and bad thing. Good in so far as people like to talk with you, from a single-male perspective that can be very positive. Bad in the sense that, as happens in many places across the globe, some people here equate white skin with lots of money. If only they knew. 

 

Thankfully, such negative attention wasn’t very prevalent during our short stay there. In fact, our previous view that Afro-Colombians are the least friendly of the ethnic groups that live in the country was pleasantly altered. They can still be, however, a little disobliging when it comes to bus journeys. We all have our flaws.

It has been said that the city is the capital of arguably one of Colombia’s strongest underground exports — prostitutes.** From what we witnessed, it’s hard to disagree (wait a second, is that why the women were so friendly?). There were many of them ‘playing the game’ in any case. Throw in the fact that one of the semi-respectable hotels we stayed in seemed to double up as a brothel and you begin to see the importance of the industry to the place. 

Mentioning hotels, we must give a plug to ‘Hospedaje Bahia Mar’. At the equivalent of about US$8 a night, it’s one of the best value-for-money spots we’ve stayed at in Colombia. And sticking with the sex-tourism theme, it’s the only hotel/hostel we’ve been in that has a porn channel free to watch on your bedroom TV. How thoughtful.

What’s more, the first guy we befriended, a very helpful lad at that, seemed to be some sort of a pimp. Each to their own and all that. 

On a broader scale, this is the place where many of these ladies of the night learn their trade before hitting for the traditionally economically stronger Latin American countries. Chances are if you meet a Colombian prostitute in the likes of Brazil or Chile, she more than likely hails from Buenaventura or its surrounds.

The seaside park is relatively nice.

Outside of all that, in terms of what to do in the city itself, well there’s not an awful lot. Granted, our stay was limited to the centre, the part nearest the sea/port (the city is divided into two parts, joined by a bridge).

But from what we saw in passing of the outer part of the city, much of it resembles a shanty town and didn’t look that appealing. At least in the centre there’s a seaside park and accompanying views of the ocean. 

If you can find a half-clean park bench to sit on it’s a relatively nice place to read a book and watch boats sail in and out in the muggy afternoon heat. 

There’s also Zona Franca, the city’s duty-free zone in a sense, where you can do some bargain hunting for all sorts of goods if that’s your thing. For us, the cheap eats and drinks that can be found in the place were very satisfying, along, of course, with the aforementioned friendly locals.

As for the dirt, sure no place is perfect.

* For more on Bogotá's rubbish, see 'Petrograd - Colombia's new capital?' http://bit.ly/U4ViiJ & 'Small steps to a cleaner, greener Bogotá?' http://bit.ly/WFOPsW

** For related articles on prostitutes in Colombia, see "Bienvenidos a Medellin - 'Bangkok Light'" http://bit.ly/N83NbB & 'What a mother hooker!' http://bit.ly/XEAefP

Turbo living

There is a tired concept followed by a number of backpackers these days – the desire to do the "non-tourist" thing. Yes, it’s a bit of a paradox, trying to avoid being something you clearly are. 

Very often those looking to go to the non-tourist place end up so much out of the way that there is little, if anything, to do or see in said place. Or worse, they arrive in a location that is famous for one rather big attraction, for example, Cusco in Peru, the gateway to the ancient city of Machu Picchu, yet decide not to see the main draw because it’s too "touristy". Why bother going then, eh?

Sometimes, though, especially if you’ve been on the go for a relatively long period of time, it is nice just to take a break from the main tourist drag. To rock up in a place that gets very few outsiders. If that is what you are looking for, a good rule of thumb is to pick a location that is not mentioned in Lonely Planet - the bible for many nomads - or suchlike. 

The entrance into Turbo's port-cum-rubbish tip.

Or else opt for a spot that gets a very negative write-up in the guidebooks. It’s the latter type we found ourselves staying in recently – the transit, coastal city of Turbo, on Colombia’s north coast.

It’s where you’ll find yourself if you’re either coming from or going to the remote, car-free beach resort of Capurganá, a choppy three-hour speed boat journey up the coast, just a short hop from Panama. 

If you follow Lonely Planet’s lead, you won’t stay in Turbo – in and out of the place as fast as you can is the advice you’ll get from that publication. 

Indeed, the actions of the locals seem to back this up. It’s one of the few places where on your arrival, by land or sea, you’ll instantly have the natives approaching you asking what part of the country you want to go to next. It nearly feels like you’re not allowed to stay. 

But keeping with the title of this blog, we decided to stick it out for a couple of days here. Sure why not? Let's be the ‘only tourist in the village’, to paraphrase the sketch show Little Britain. 

Now considering my own home place isn’t exactly a big tourist spot, maybe I have a natural affiliation with similar settings. Because, on the face of it, there is very little to do in Turbo. 

Yes, it’s a busy hub, even without the steady flow of passers-by. But it’s quite dirty – the hiving port doubling up as the local rubbish tip, replete with the accompanying smells. The nearest beach is a good twenty-minute bus drive away, so there’s not even a nice place to cool down and relax within walking distance.

Yet, in terms of what we wanted, it didn’t disappoint. Of course, when you have no expectations, even the slightest plus point means you’re up in the deal. 

So what does it have? Well, if you are looking for a break from fellow backpackers, you’ll get it here, especially at night once the coming and going of speed boats and buses ceases. 

Plus, once the locals realise you’re actually staying for more than a couple of hours, they’ll stop pestering you for a ticket to your next destination. And amazingly, unlike more well-trodden places, they won’t harass you for anything else. You’ll be left in peace. 

On top of all this – and importantly so considering we’re all watching our pesos these days – there’s value to be had in the place. An en suite private room with TV in a hotel overlooking the semi-attractive main square (about the nicest thing in the town) for less than €10 – as good a price you’ll find anywhere in Colombia. 

Equally just as important, we managed to find a bar that sold bottles of the very agreeable local brews Aguila & Pilsen for $1,300 Colombian pesos (roughly €0.50, yes 50 cents that is) – a price so far unmatched on our travels here. 

Also, considering not many tourists decide to stay here, you get a more genuine taste of things – a flavour, perhaps, of the real Colombia. Throw in what was a lively enough nightlife (granted it was a holiday weekend when we arrived) along with friendly, helpful locals and you’ve got a pretty decent mix.

Indeed, the perfect stop to engage in a bit of non-tourist living. Better just keep it to yourself, though.