Colombia January 2016 | From Popoyan

It's been six days I think since I last sat down to write and post. In that time we've covered a fair bit of ground, from pre-Colombian archaeological sites in and around San Agustín to the colonial architecture of Popoyán, and everything in between. Today we head for Cali, the salsa capital of the world, and a first class hotel.

Popoyán is the “white city”. Approaching it from the high sierra of the Central Cordillera of the Andes, it looks like any sprawling city nestled in the valley. But the streets of the central core, the historical district, are lined with white plastered cafés and bakeries, shops, hotels and restaurants, many with black iron balconies trimmed with flower pots. It all could use one of those painters from Mykonos or Santorini with a bucket of whitewash paint and long handled roller, but otherwise it's quite charming.

The main square is treed and shady, and filled with vendors selling an array of luscious looking fruit and icy fruit slushes. I say “looking” because of course, if you don't wash it and peel it yourself, you don't eat it! My mouth waters, but I settle for the sweet scent and a photo. Margaret is carrying a little pamphlet from Bogotá naming all the fruits from the area and their medicinal qualities. Hmmm...tempting to be sure. Except for a cathedral (of course) and banks, there isn't much around the square. But yesterday we sat in the courtyard behind Juan Valdez, the local version of Starbucks, and sipped coffee and fresh squeezed juice under the shade of the trees. It felt like home—in July.

Arepas   ready for the oven

There is barely an hour that isn't noisy. Even the historical centre is jammed with street vendors, motorcycles, delivery trucks, and the occasional llama, for show of course. Our hotel is close to but not on the square, and our first room had a lovely terrace looking out to the street. The mujera assured us it would be quiet at night, by which she must have meant from about midnight to five am. We moved, but this morning we heard the dull chimes of the church bell ring, and it was like a starting gun for activity in the streets. Silence quickly turned to speeding cars, trucks shifting gears, horns honking, and the voices of the staff through the paper walls as they began preparations for breakfast.

The specialty here is tamale pipián which Margaret is enjoying, They use banana leaf for the outside, instead of corn husk, and the filling is potato and hard boiled eggs and a rich tomato sauce. I'm enjoying the arepas, soft white corn patties. Both are local specialties. The arepas here at the hotel are sweet and I drown them in butter and jam. The are parillas, restaurants that specialize in barbecued meat like in Argentina. An order of steak here is meal enough for a whole family! And empanadas, tiny little fried pockets of corn meal filled with meat. Last night I thought the sauce tasted like peanut butter, but ohhhh, was it hot.

We'll head for the bus depot shortly to catch a colectivo for Cali, and to Medellín tomorrow. I'll try to do some catching up when we get to Cali or in Medellín.