Unplanned Stops: From Popayan to Otavalo

After Salento, I was at a loss as to where to head next. There aren’t that many recommended tourist destinations in the south of Colombia, at least not many that people get super excited about, requiring them to start gushing unsolicited advice, as had been the case so far with Colombia.

Some folks were headed straight to Ecuador, but that was one long ass bus journey to the border. The main options were Cali, Popayán, and San Agustín.

Had a couple of friends been with me, I might have picked Cali, the salsa dancing capital of Colombia. But I’d been told there wasn’t too much to do there in terms of must-see sites and that the main focus was nightlife, specifically salsa dancing. As I write this, that all sounds really fun to me, but at the time, this stopover was meant to break up the journey to Ecuador and be a bit of a rest after an activity-filled stay in Salento. So Cali didn’t really fit the mold for me… despite the fact that Anthony Bourdain visited Cali for some Colombian ceviche (ie, mayo and ketchup covered shrimp, mmmmm).

San Agustín seemed more intriguing, with odd, inexplicable archeology sites, horseback riding, and even a rumored (not so secret) cocaine tour given by a former cartel cook who can show you the process all the way from coca leaf to pure white powder in his backyard. Which doesn’t sound sketchy at all. But San Agustín was a little off the direct route to Ecuador and I really needed to move along.

Popayán, on the other hand, was a safe, supposedly pretty, colonial town a little closer to the border. However, it seemed there was really nothing of note there besides a church in the city square and two hills that you can venture up for views. But after meeting a girl at La Serrana who taught English in Popayán and who expounded it’s virtues, I decided a little down time there would be just fine. She also recommended a laid back hostel with good wifi close to the center of things. Decision made!

And so I was headed to Colombia’s “White City.”

I grabbed the first bus from Armenia to Popayán, which turned out to be about a six hour journey… in a minibus… and one of the least comfortable so far. Unfortunately I had a full row of seat partners crammed in with me in my choice position at the back of the bus. We stopped in Cali to drop off and pick up passengers and that’s when the real fun began.

Among our new passengers were (of course) a baby and a dog, both of whom were not psyched for this journey. I reached for my headphones as I’d do on a plane when things get uncomfortably loud… but when you only have ten songs downloaded on your phone, well, let’s just say that a potent cocktail of Amy Winehouse and Eric Church on repeat is possibly crazy-inducing.

Did I mention we got stuck in traffic?

Doing Nothing in Popayán

Arriving at the bus station after dark (ahh, my favorite), I grabbed a cab to the recommended Hostal Caracol, which translates to “Snail Hostel” – very creative. It’s always a little nerve-racking being in a cab alone after dark. Will I make it to my destination? Will I be robbed and just dumped somewhere? I feel this way even at home sometimes. But so far, so good!

I arrived to a pretty empty hostel (another of my favorite things), but I was exhausted. Normally I’d suck up my feelings of hunger and just go to sleep in my dorm room containing only one other person, but I’d heard that there was an Italian place that was definitely still open at this time. And that the seven block walk there in the darkness of the night was no problem in this safe little town. Um, yes!

So I ventured out for a bowl of spaghetti, running into the same group of seventy-year-olds that were on my Salento coffee tour. It’s truly a small world out here on the Gringo Trail. The food wasn’t bad either.

It’s definitely white, that’s for sure

After a solid night’s sleep, I awoke to explore the town. Or at least find coffee. But I discovered something better.

Food is really cheap in Popayán! One of the positives about this city’s not being a huge tourist destination is that things are shockingly cheap. I finally checked off my goal of trying Colombian tamales at breakfast that morning, the total coming to about $1 USD with hot chocolate and bread rolls included. The tamales were warm, moist, tender, and delicious, filled with queso and tocino (which means bacon, but in this case it was more like fatty ham slices – whatever).

To be fair, this isn’t a guide on what to do in Popayán, as I miserably failed to act like a good tourist here. To summarize, I wandered around the town solo trying to take photos and find food. I couldn’t even be bothered to take a free bike from the hostel up one of the aforementioned hills. Instead, I grabbed a fruit salad covered in condensed milk (50 cents) and ate alone in the sunny plaza while engaging in some high quality people watching.

A friendly man on a bike (who was carrying a nice camera himself) came up and asked me where I was from, welcomed me to his town, and (again!) recommended that I head up to one of the two surrounding hills for the sunset and photos. After hearing my name and assuming I was Jewish, he also provided me the name of his temple and a pamphlet about God. People are so kind here…

After wandering a bit more, I found a menú del día comprised of ajiaco, rice, salad, and juice for less than $2 USD, and remembering how much I enjoyed it last time, I had to have it.

There was also a bit of a craft market set up on the square – many tents full of people selling jewelry and other things I didn’t need, but why not? I bought a bracelet with the Colombian flag’s colors, getting sentimental about my impending departure, and a headband that may or may not make me look like a maid.

To Take an Overnight Bus or Not?

I spent the rest of my time in town taking advantage of the speedy wifi and blogging before deciding definitively whether or not I’d get the overnight bus from Popayán to Ipiales, the Colombian border town just before Ecuador.

Wikitravel says to avoid night buses along this route. The guy working at the hostel said they still couldn’t 100% recommend it. And as much as I’ve been raving about the safety and warm people of Colombia thus far, the fact is that on occasion some of these night buses in the south still get robbed. Bandits. People impersonating transit authorities or cops. In Salento, we’d heard a story that two foreign girls were recently robbed of everything – passports, bags, everything – when their bus was held up.

But after deciding that Popayán couldn’t really hold my attention for another twelve hours, and knowing that I didn’t want to waste another day of sunlight on a long bus journey, I set my mind to it: I was going to take the overnight bus from Popayán to Ipiales, everything I’d read on the Internet be damned.

I like night buses. And Boliviariano – the most trusted, nicest bus company in Colombia – ran this route. And I was ready to get to Ecuador. So I showed up at the bus station a little before 10 PM and booked a ticket.

And nothing happened. In fact, it was one of the nicest bus journeys I’ve had thus far. Nice reclining comfortable seats, individual televisions for each passenger, and after leaving at 11 PM, we pulled into Ipiales on time at around 7 AM the next morning.

The border crossing from Colombia to Ecuador, however, is a bit of a clusterfuck. Though relatively painless, who knows how much I overpaid between taking a taxi from Ipiales to the border, stamping out of Colombia, changing pesos to dollars (I know I lost $6 in that transaction), walking across a bridge with my bags, stamping out of Ecuador, and taking a taxi to the bus station in Tulcán. Don’t worry though, if you’re doing this same journey, there will be people waiting to usher you along every step of the way, already knowing your destination like a hoard of psychics.

From the bus station in Ecuador, I booked my ticket to… Otavalo?

Yep. From one unplanned stop to the next.

Otavalo for the Saturday Market

I happened to be passing into Ecuador on a Saturday, the day of one of the largest markets in the country. Octavalo is known for its market containing artisanal goods, art, all the alpaca gear you could ever want, leather, food, and even several local markets where crops and animals are bought and sold.

Otavalo is usually done as a day trip from Quito since it’s only about two hours outside the capital city. But hey, I was already passing through on a Saturday! And the same buses that take you to Quito will take you to Otavalo. The bus dropped me off along the Panamerican highway, some kind fellow passengers helping me find the right stop for the market. And again relying on the kindness of strangers, I grabbed a cab from there to the market, taking my cab driver’s hostel suggestion.

Crossing the border into Ecuador, you almost immediately notice the change in the people, especially because of the large indigenous populations in the north of the country, noticeable in the women’s style of dress and the men who don’t cut their hair. It’s pretty profound. And in general, I found that they were more reserved than the people of Colombia. Not that that’s hard to do…

But the kind man that owned Runa Pacha Hostal, a small hotel filled with Native American paraphernalia (including an awesome United States flag with an Indian chief plastered on top) offered me a room with TV, private bathroom, and good wifi for $9/night, even letting me go upstairs to check it out and compare it to the $6 room with a shared bathroom. Though at first I was certain it was a creepy murder hotel, I quickly decided I’d take it! These are luxuries on the road. And $9??!

So after dropping my bags and showering, I headed out to shop! The Otavalo market itself is huge and overwhelming. You see the same things – jewelry, llama accessories, hand-painted items – everywhere, so definitely don’t buy anything the first time you see it. Working with the US Dollar again was a bit of a disappointment after the cheap days of the Colombian peso, but at least I knew exactly what I was paying. There are hats and scarves for $3, trinkets, tapestries, and so much beaded jewelry.

First things first, I hooked myself up with a coconut and an Ecuadorian SIM card from the Claro salespeople in a booth on the sidewalk (I spent $18 total in Ecuador for my data for almost a month). Then I bargained for my favorite alpaca sweater. At $15, I’m certain I paid too much, but they say that while there’s way more selection on Saturdays, you’re also in competition with all the other gringo, dollar-toting tourists who visit the market.

Side Note: That alpaca sweater totally threw off the feng sui of my the inside of my backpack, so I had to send it home with Charlie on his visit to Ecuador.

Having completed my purchases for the day, I finally stopped by one of the many tents selling food in the middle of the market. There are lots of choices, and it can be overwhelming, especially when you’re not familiar with Ecuadorian cuisine (spoiler alert: this was one of the best meals I had during my four weeks in the country).

I thought about going with one of the many soups on display, but stopped when I saw a hot griddle of buttery mounds sizzling.

After inquiring, I learned that they were potatoes, but the lady added an egg to the mix as well. Served alongside crispy fried beef (I think) with spicy salsa on top, I cleared my $3 plate at a table on the side of the road. The name of this dish: llapingachos. SO good!

I wouldn’t mind more meals like this.

That night’s adventures in food weren’t nearly as exciting, since I was alone in what appeared to be a ghost town. Many of the tents in the market close down by 4 PM and most tourists head back to Quito for the night. So I strayed only a few blocks from the hotel, my only criteria for food being that I didn’t want to eat at one of the ubiquitous fried chicken joints that Ecuadorians seem so taken with. To my surprise, I found that I could get a giant (mediocre) slice of pizza and a big Pilsener beer for a grand total of $1.75.

The next morning, I found an American-owned coffee shop overlooking the market. After a last minute stroll through what was left of the Plaza de Ponchos, I had a cappuccino and a slice of banana bread before packing up my things and [waiting twenty minutes at the wrong bus stop before] finally heading to Quito.

The Verdict: While it was a relaxing stop in the middle of a long journey, Popayán is not a must-see city and I’d skip it if I were short on time. As for Otavalo, I’m glad I hit the market on a Saturday, as I don’t know if I’d have returned for it once I’d made it all the way to Quito. And the other days of the week at the market don’t really compare in terms of size and selection; the Sunday I explored the market was a fraction of what it had been.

But this, friends, is the beauty of long-term travel. If a place doesn’t delight me, I can move on. And if I get tired, I can stop for a little while. And if one of the biggest markets in South America is going on the same day I’m passing through a town, I can go! It’s wonderful.

And thus began my time in Ecuador…

From Salento to Popayán, I took the first bus (a minibus) leaving from the Armenia station for 36,000 COP.

From Popayán to Ipiales, I took the 10 PM Bolivariano (which ended up leaving around 11 PM) for about 36,000 COP, and despite the warnings, it was a smooth ride on a great bus. And I’m really glad I chose to arrive at that border during the daytime.

From Ipiales to Otavalo, I took a cab to the border, walked across to Ecuador, and took a cab to the bus station in Tulcán. From there I took a bus leaving for Quito and got off on the stop in Otavalo (there are a few stops in town so tell someone if you want to get off nearest the market).

You guys like markets? And unnecessary stops in random towns on long trips?