Date Counter For Relationships
227-233 J / Episode II Incredible Colombian 
L
th day early, we take a minibus and we find our carefree Colombian family: son, mother, grandmother and friend. Three hours later we arrive in San Augustine, where we find a nice hotel, all wood with a large courtyard. We leave our belongings and set off to visit the archaeological site. Many tombs scattered in the forest, composed of heads monolithic guarding the graves, further down the path we will find a place carved into the rock of the river, a place that probably wise used for different ceremonies. There are few traces of this culture would have inhabited the area for roughly a thousand years. While we settle into our room, the grandmother Socorro Jorge comes to us and propose to continue with them tomorrow morning when the rooster crows to visit more ruins in the region and a waterfall and then continue the road towards Popayan, farther west. Starting to be really tired, we decline the offer. 
Time to take our shower and refresh our brain the same time, we change our minds, we appreciate their company and it would be stupid not to take advantage of the opportunity they offer to visit the region very easily accessible bus. We join them for dinner and express our change of course: smile Socorro us loose a little joke in passing. The only problem is that in the meantime they have offered a couple of Colombians met the day before the same course and they were quicker than us, no big deal for Jorge so we will be eight in the 4x4. A nocturnal stroll through the quiet streets of this quiet town in the Cordillera Central, stopping for a drink, a break in a small tourist shop and everyone joined her room. See you tomorrow at dawn. Everyone wakes up a little late and time to round up everyone, the sky is already clear. Our place is worth us backward in the trunk, 30 cm wide and 1.50 long. Soon we begin to taste the pleasures rocky tracks. Throughout the day we discover archaeological sites, passing through villages where the lost souls reign of the cart and mule is law 
nd'être forgotten admiring waterfalls that abound in the area and stopping in all the churches. In short, despite our position jigger, that's good! At nightfall the whole company joined San Augustine, the couple found their car in Colombia and we're en route to a town an hour away where we spend the night before leaving early for more than five Popayan Road. Arriving in the hotel see it is not in our class but we do not want to share hotel, especially since the departure will take place at dawn when we talk a bit rate. We have what we want but we will do without hot water, not serious we did the African campaign! Upon leaving, we will pay our hotel night but the waiter told us that the note is already settled. We'll see Socorro to give money to our night and we receive a final refusal and we will send our case load in the trunk of the car. The engine starts, we are only five in the 4x4, three of our companions we let go today to join Neiva. For an hour we were enjoying the tarmac, it does not last and after taking our desayuno (breakfast) to the local fashion in a little corn in the central mountain range we approach the runway. The sun shines behind us rises dust, Jorge foot to the floor reveals the power of its V8 4x4, the scenery scrolls, we eat the miles like a mustang dropped into the high plains. Unlike other roads are 
Colombian quickly we note the abscence of police, Jorge explanation: we are in a guerrilla zone, but do not worry right now is calm ... That's when the car chooses to show a slight weakness, nothing serious just a puncture. But the 5 nuts that lock the wheel, two are broken, we leave and give up the speed to pass the speed mustang mule. More than five hours before reaching Popayan. On the road, an old bridge destroyed by guerrillas, a village where one can see an incredible amount of shrapnel adorning the walls, sad garlands. Fortunately all is not guerrilla warfare and vendettas, as we pass by a beautiful waterfall and a plateau where some very strange plants grow in a soil sponge and only grow one centimeter a year. It is said in the pueblos that long ago we saw over 30 meters, the largest we have seen was only 2 meters. The rain comes along with us at Popayan, a beautiful town with white walls and red tile round which weighs today the heavy gray sky. By the time the family is a sign outside a church and we head back to Cali, we thought we stopped in 
cited, but time is short and the family continues north on the same road we then not too resist we accepted their invitation. Of course we end our journey in the guest room for Jorge to Santa Rosa. I think now that the kidnapping is deeply entrenched in Colombian culture. I recall the facts: we were hitchhiking along a dry and dusty track, we felt as strong as a goat cheese, they were kind enough to forward a few kilometers and we are three days later invited by them to sleep. Colombian amazing. We will spend three days in the coffee region. We visit Pereira, Armenia and we will taste in film Colombian probably one of the best in Latin America: "Pero Pero come." Our charming kidnappers eventually release us after a week of hostage taking more than pleasant. And here we are in a bus towards Ibague to finish our loop of the southern part of Colombia. Rafael has returned from the United States and ahead for good espresso. On his advice we pass by a park dedicated to coffee, we refine our knowledge and set off again towards his welcoming home.
L th day early, we take a minibus and we find our carefree Colombian family: son, mother, grandmother and friend. Three hours later we arrive in San Augustine, where we find a nice hotel, all wood with a large courtyard. We leave our belongings and set off to visit the archaeological site. Many tombs scattered in the forest, composed of heads monolithic guarding the graves, further down the path we will find a place carved into the rock of the river, a place that probably wise used for different ceremonies. There are few traces of this culture would have inhabited the area for roughly a thousand years. While we settle into our room, the grandmother Socorro Jorge comes to us and propose to continue with them tomorrow morning when the rooster crows to visit more ruins in the region and a waterfall and then continue the road towards Popayan, farther west. Starting to be really tired, we decline the offer. 
Time to take our shower and refresh our brain the same time, we change our minds, we appreciate their company and it would be stupid not to take advantage of the opportunity they offer to visit the region very easily accessible bus. We join them for dinner and express our change of course: smile Socorro us loose a little joke in passing. The only problem is that in the meantime they have offered a couple of Colombians met the day before the same course and they were quicker than us, no big deal for Jorge so we will be eight in the 4x4. A nocturnal stroll through the quiet streets of this quiet town in the Cordillera Central, stopping for a drink, a break in a small tourist shop and everyone joined her room. See you tomorrow at dawn. Everyone wakes up a little late and time to round up everyone, the sky is already clear. Our place is worth us backward in the trunk, 30 cm wide and 1.50 long. Soon we begin to taste the pleasures rocky tracks. Throughout the day we discover archaeological sites, passing through villages where the lost souls reign of the cart and mule is law 
nd'être forgotten admiring waterfalls that abound in the area and stopping in all the churches. In short, despite our position jigger, that's good! At nightfall the whole company joined San Augustine, the couple found their car in Colombia and we're en route to a town an hour away where we spend the night before leaving early for more than five Popayan Road. Arriving in the hotel see it is not in our class but we do not want to share hotel, especially since the departure will take place at dawn when we talk a bit rate. We have what we want but we will do without hot water, not serious we did the African campaign! Upon leaving, we will pay our hotel night but the waiter told us that the note is already settled. We'll see Socorro to give money to our night and we receive a final refusal and we will send our case load in the trunk of the car. The engine starts, we are only five in the 4x4, three of our companions we let go today to join Neiva. For an hour we were enjoying the tarmac, it does not last and after taking our desayuno (breakfast) to the local fashion in a little corn in the central mountain range we approach the runway. The sun shines behind us rises dust, Jorge foot to the floor reveals the power of its V8 4x4, the scenery scrolls, we eat the miles like a mustang dropped into the high plains. Unlike other roads are 
Colombian quickly we note the abscence of police, Jorge explanation: we are in a guerrilla zone, but do not worry right now is calm ... That's when the car chooses to show a slight weakness, nothing serious just a puncture. But the 5 nuts that lock the wheel, two are broken, we leave and give up the speed to pass the speed mustang mule. More than five hours before reaching Popayan. On the road, an old bridge destroyed by guerrillas, a village where one can see an incredible amount of shrapnel adorning the walls, sad garlands. Fortunately all is not guerrilla warfare and vendettas, as we pass by a beautiful waterfall and a plateau where some very strange plants grow in a soil sponge and only grow one centimeter a year. It is said in the pueblos that long ago we saw over 30 meters, the largest we have seen was only 2 meters. The rain comes along with us at Popayan, a beautiful town with white walls and red tile round which weighs today the heavy gray sky. By the time the family is a sign outside a church and we head back to Cali, we thought we stopped in 
cited, but time is short and the family continues north on the same road we then not too resist we accepted their invitation. Of course we end our journey in the guest room for Jorge to Santa Rosa. I think now that the kidnapping is deeply entrenched in Colombian culture. I recall the facts: we were hitchhiking along a dry and dusty track, we felt as strong as a goat cheese, they were kind enough to forward a few kilometers and we are three days later invited by them to sleep. Colombian amazing. We will spend three days in the coffee region. We visit Pereira, Armenia and we will taste in film Colombian probably one of the best in Latin America: "Pero Pero come." Our charming kidnappers eventually release us after a week of hostage taking more than pleasant. And here we are in a bus towards Ibague to finish our loop of the southern part of Colombia. Rafael has returned from the United States and ahead for good espresso. On his advice we pass by a park dedicated to coffee, we refine our knowledge and set off again towards his welcoming home. 
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