Venturer's Log: Minca and Marinka
We came to Minca without a definite plan. When I was doing my research about the small mountain pueblo, I discovered that the town was only added to the backpacker route / Gringo trail, some 5-10 years ago. and we took a taxi despite it being way over budget. Our plan had initially been to take a colectivo to Minca however we were a little uneasy having seen the area our hotel was located in, there were many people on the surrounding roads that seemed drunk or high or otherwise unstable, several of which would come to the window of the hotel lobby and shout indiscernibly into the room before wandering off again so the idea of a walk to the bus station with our heavy bags and valuables was somewhat unappealing. Nick suggested asking the hotel for the price of a taxi and they offered us a 10% discount with a company they used/trusted. Much to my chagrin I agreed to this even though it was roughly twice the price of the colectivo. It's about a 40 minute drive from Santa Marta and we spent it talking to our taxi driver about the local area although there was a dicey moment when he turned off the main road into what appeared to be slums in the wrong direction at which point Nick asked "disculpe... donde estamos?". Possibly realising our trepidation he was quick to explain there was a lot of traffic and this was a shortcut.
When we arrived at Chunu'u hostel, our accommodation for the next 4 nights, we were pleasantly surprised to find it decorated beautifully with plant life along a terraced hill, with various spots to chill and relax. Little did we know that the hostel would become a comedy of errors - I believe Nick is going to write a separate post specifically about the hostel.
Anyway, our first day in Minca was a travel day and nobody ever wants to do anything on a travel day, so we mostly chilled out, had dinner at the hostel, and went to bed.
The following day I woke early to have some breakfast before attending the morning meditation session the hostel puts on Saturday mornings. After this, Nick and I set off to explore. One of the most common things to do in Minca is hike the hour-long walk up the hill to las Cascadas de Marinka. There's also the option of taking a moto-taxi which is much faster but as we're on a budget and weren't in a rush we took the slow route, packed our water bottles and headed up the hill.
The walk was pleasant enough, always along the road which was at times paved but the vast majority being a dirt track. We passed by huge bamboo groves (is that the right word to describe them?) and could hear the river flowing gently alongside us, although we weren't able to see it most of the time. Moto-taxis passed us regularly as well as 4WDs, it was hot and humid and sticky but we persevered.
Eventually we saw a few shops selling snacks and coffee, with signs pointing to Marinka.
AHA! We thought. We're here!
We turned onto the path and then were met with a delightful (znot) set of steps that rose up and up and up.
Oh. We thought. We're not quite there yet.
But it wasn't too bad, it turned out we were only about 5-10 minutes from the top, and after one point where we took a rest stop we realised that the entrance to the waterfalls was only another 100 metres away.
Entrance to Cascadas de Marinka cost 1600 COP per person and you have to pay in cash at the small booth at the front. From there you go down some steps and then you can choose to go either up some more steps to the second waterfall, or down some steps to the first waterfall, which is also where the changing rooms, toilets, and cafe are. We decided to go up first because we didn't think we'd have it in us to go up if we'd gone down first.
It was freezing. But it was a refreshing change from the humidity of the air around me so soon dipping my toes in became standing directly in the path of the waterfall, letting thousands of tonnes of water crash down onto me.
Eventually we meandered down to the other waterfall which was pretty but not as intense as the first one. There was a large swimming hole at the bottom where people were jumping into, but having already dried off from my shower under the falls I opted not to go in again. We chilled there for a bit, while Nick kicked himself for not bringing his tripod on the walk - the tripod he purchased specifically to take photos of waterfalls.
On the way back down the hill to Minca, we had to cross where the river was running across the road. It was quite deep (hence the need for the 4WDs that were going up and down the road) and there had been a rock bridge that some people long ago had built, specifically for crossing the road to avoid your feet getting wet. We had safely crossed this on the way up and were ready to cross again now. With full confidence, I stepped between the various rocks before I naturally lost my footing, slipped and crashed onto the ground, plunging both my shoes into the water and scraping my leg down the side of a rock. After yelling some expletives, I hobbled up across the remaining rocks before having to sit down and examine the damage. My leg, thankfully, had had a layer or two of skin removed but was not bleeding, no ankles were twisted and nothing was broken, except my pride. My shoes had taken most of the damage and I begrudgingly pulled each off, removed my socks and wrung them thoroughly to squeeze the water out. Depressingly, they were still sodden so I pulled them back on and we started the long long walk back to town, my feet squelching with every step I took, and water oozing from each shoe.
An obviously fabulous finale to an otherwise pleasant trip.