Zona Cafetera

Nestled in the lush mountains of central Colombia, is one of the world’s great sources of coffee: Colombia’s zona cafetera, or “coffee zone”. Traditionally second only to Brazil in terms of coffee production, Colombia has recently slipped to third behind Vietnam. However, Colombia is the world’s largest producer of Arabica beans (arguably the best bean), which is the only bean grown here. Ironically, Colombians aren’t huge coffee buffs, especially outside of the coffee zone. The vast majority of beans cultivated here are exported to gourmet coffee shops around the world. As a result, the classic cup of tinto on the street in Colombia is just plain bad by world standards, and don’t be surprised if it’s instant (yes, instant!). The coffee seems to have improved since arriving in la zona, but it still isn’t anywhere near what coffee snobs would call “good”. Kinda weird being in the middle of one of the world’s great coffee zones sipping on a cup of instant coffee.

Leaving Medellin we were dreading having to negotiate the urban traffic congestion generated by 3 million people. However, we were very pleasantly surprised to learn that we randomly picked Sunday to leave the big smoke, which is the day that Medellin shuts down one side of the autopista (Medellin’s 401) and turns it into one huge bike lane stretching from one end of the city to the other. Wow, what a delightful stressfree ride out the city and back into the mountains. It was really special to see the hundreds and thousands of city folks out on their bikes enjoying the day. As we suspected, Colombians take their cycling seriously and more than one pack of “Tour-de-Francers” whizzed by giving us the thumbs up.

The ride from Medellin has been very revealing on several fronts. Mostly we realize that we are simply going to have to downgrade our expectations for how many kms we will bank in a day. On previous trips where topography really wasn’t part of the equation, 75 or 80 kms was a decent day, with 100 or more a really good day, and 50 or less a very short day. Here in the Andes, if we get 50 kms down the road, that’s a good day.  70+ kms, we are ecstatic, and classify that as an exceptional day. 30 kms is more than enough if it includes a big climb.

So ya, climbs.  Our thinking on that has also evolved. Huge climbs of 1000 to 2000+ m are part of the scenery here. Any two major destinations are going to involve not just one, but several large climbs. If we don’t learn to love them, it’s over. For those of you from the Koots, the terrain here is almost identical and can be described as steep interconnected 2000+ m ridgelines punctuated by steep valleys. Unlike the Koots though, where roads and humans generally follow valley bottoms, here people and paved roads (amazingly good paved roads) travel up, along, and over every ridge. Towns are at the top, as opposed to the bottoms. Cycle touring here is like doing a ski traverse on your bike. Up one ridge, down the next. Very cool once you get that in your head. The added bonus is that towns and facilities seem to be distributed across the landscape with cycle touring in mind. They seem to be perfected scattered at just the right distance so that there is no need to carry food, extra water, or ever be stuck for a place to sleep. Seems like there is an endless supply of cheap hotels exactly where we want them.

Of towns and cheap hotels. This is one of the true jewels of cycle touring. Because we must stop for the night in the middle of nowhere, we stay where no gringo has ever stayed before (at least judging from the reaction we get from the locals). Unlike bussing which takes you from one gringolandia (place where gringo tourists congregate) to another, we spend most of our time in places that never make it into any travel guide. Now, hostels and the associated draws in gringolandia are fun and make for a good change of pace. But for us, it’s the unnamed places, people, and random encounters in between that are the real draw. As someone once said, the best part of a good trip is the journey, not the destination. Nothing is more true of cycle touring.

So where are we are we at the moment? For those looking at maps, we decided to bypass Manizales because upon closer inspection of the route, it involved a 1200 m climb followed by a 1200 m descent back to the same main highway.  Not a good use of our limited energy. We therefore continued onto Pereira, heart of the coffee zone, and are now enjoying the comforts of the Kolibra Hostel. We’re looking forward to the free coffee in the morning, but haven’t set our expectations too high. I asked the guy if they had milk for the coffee (rare here), and he looked at me sideways...hmmm, not a good sign. The plan is to take a day off tomorrow, lie in a hammock and let our legs and butts recoup a bit, then pack up and head towards (climb actually) a small mountain town called Salento known for its views and, wait for it, coffee. Looking forward to that. See you then.  

Elevation profile: Chinchina to Salento (our next stretch).