Sweating it up to the Lost City

We'd asked a few people, "do you need to be fit?" The usual answer: "Yeah, it helps. And you'll sweat more than you've ever sweat in your life." So this was what was to be expected of the trek in to and out of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta's 'Ciudad Perdida', or 'Lost City'. Nice. We wondered how our bodies would survive having enjoyed six months with no routine exercise. But I'll have you know that there's a little Indiana Jones in all of us, and ours was jumping up and down, pining for an adventure. So, braced for trekking in intense humidity, we traded the Havianas for walking shoes and set off with Miguel and his brother Diego, two local guys working for Sierra Tours.

The appeal of this place is understated. Dating back to the 9th Century, it's an impressive four hectare site of an ancient city, supposedly older than Machu Picchu, abandoned during the Spanish invasion. Apart from a few select indigenous elders who have, unbeknownst to the rest of the world, held annual meetings at the site for many years, the city remained "undiscovered" until 1972. It was then that the slippery 1300 steps that lead to it - which we endured, one by one - were stumbled upon by a hunter (who, rumour has it, now works in Tayrona National Park as a tour guide!). It wasn't until 1975 that the government was informed of the discovery. Stories on this point vary, but the general gist of it is that the hunter also stumbled across a rather large collection of gold that was buried below the city, and subsequently spent the next three years ransacking the site, along with a few others, selling the goods on the black market. Jackpot!

The fact that this place has lain untouched for centuries isn't its only fascinating element. Unlike Machu Picchu, you can't reach it by train, there isn't a fancy on-site hotel, and there aren't maintenance guys trimming its outskirts. The only way to get a glimpse of this place is to endure five days of steep uphill climbs with some sometimes very steep, slippery descents - I spent a rainy afternoon on what felt like a muddy ice-rink, all I could do was literally go with the flow! It takes three days and about six somewhat challenging river crossings to get to the site, and then you turn around and do it all again, this time in two days. For me, this was the hardest part as the days were longer and I knew exactly where it was going to hurt. When you reach the city, you aren't hit with hoards of snap-happy tourists, but with the silence of the jungle. Surrounded by endless valleys that infuse into one another, you feel like a tiny spot in an ocean of green. The only signs of civilisation are a few indigenous-used huts, and a group of machine gun clad soldiers, stationed there for two months to protect the site against looters (and for the protection of tourists - there was a group of tourists kidnapped in 2003!)

The main ruins

Sitting in the 'chief seat'

Taking in the view

The highlights? Apart from the ruins themselves, the Colombian scenery was again at its best. Each time we huffed and puffed our way to the top of a hill we were rewarded with stunning views of the lush jungle below, or with a dip in a natural waterfall. What was also quite remarkable was how intact the indigenous lifestyle is. We saw plenty of seemingly thriving communities, large families, most in the traditional white dress, living off the land. Interestingly, it appears the government has given the indigenous communities some say as to the monitoring of tourists on the trail. At one point our guide was required to provide a list of names and nationalities at a community check point.

Like some other experiences, this one had a down side for me: in the middle of all the beauty, a real-life cocaine factory where tourists can "learn" about the nasties that go into cocaine production. This was not an official part of the tour and was definitely not advocated by Sierra tours, but it's something that we'd been told about before starting the tour, and that many tourists ask about when they sign up. On the morning of the second day a Colombian guy emerged from the jungle, hand outstretched for the 30,000 Colombian peso fee (about US$15). The deal is, you can take all the photos you want inside the factory, as long as you don't take any which reveal his face. What you see is the production of a paste that is the base for cocaine. But what happens to the paste after that? Where does all that money you hand over go? Traditionally, profits from the cocaine industry have gone directly to armed forces. For me, it was sad to see this sort of thing in a country that is trying so desperately to move on from its past, particularly when you hear first-hand stories of people who have been traumatised by guerrilla groups and the like. But I guess people will always be curious, and who am I to judge? While it's clearly a tourist rort, I'm sure it was interesting to see.

Some ancient kitchen utensils

Bec enjoying a mango fresh from the branch

Miguel contemplating a river crossing with a number of our bags