the real hummingbird heaven

When we arrived in Arizona a couple of years ago to weather the initial coronavirus storm, we were delighted to discover ourselves in hummingbird heaven. More than half of America’s 33 recorded hummingbird species can be glimpsed in the state, and in Sedona we were in a prime location for hummingbird viewing. Junebug, in particular, was thrilled to go see her “honeybirds” at every opportunity. By contrast, there are only four recorded hummingbird species in our home state of Maine — and three of them can be glimpsed only rarely and only in the far southern reaches of the state. And, of course, since hummingbirds are restricted exclusively to the New World, we hadn’t seen any during our overseas assignments in Africa, Europe, and Asia. Then we traveled to Colombia this month, which forced us to redefine the meaning of “hummingbird heaven.”

Cartago weekend with nana

As we take a scenic, off-road detour through our Colombia travels on the blog, life continues apace. We’ve been back for nearly two weeks now, and a lot has happened in that time. Colombia, in some ways, is old news. A few days after we had returned to San Jose, our kids returned as well, along with their nana. Munchkin already has started third grade; the end of Costa Rica’s short summer vacation happened so fast that we didn’t even get our act together to snap a “first day” photo. Junebug starts at her new school next week — not a day too soon either; without structure or playmates, she’s been bouncing off the walls and causing all sorts of havoc, as she is wont to do. We snuck in a weekend trip to nearby Cartago last weekend and are getting ready to welcome friends to San Jose tomorrow. Things, in sum, have been hectic, which is par for the course for us.

enchanted forest

Leaving Jardin, which we enjoyed immensely, we set out on a pretty road that wound its way through the Andean foothills. Our route from Medellin to Jardin had left a lot to be desired, with frequent roadwork snaring traffic. By contrast, the road leading south from this vibrant Andean town seemed perfect. Somewhat improbably, it reminded D of Ireland: narrow, smooth blacktop slicing through verdant hills, tall hedges on either side of the gently curving roadway. Then, without warning, this Platonic ideal of roadway perfection ended abruptly, and we found ourselves on a rutted track favored by mountain bikers. The so-called road, which continued to display as a prominently thick, though admittedly somewhat tortuous line on our GPS, plunged unexpectedly into a dense wood and grew exponentially more sketchy the further we drove.

cock quest

It was 4:30 p.m. and we were early for our date with the cocks. The Andean Cock-of-the-rock is one of South America’s most iconic birds and also one of its most bizarre in everything from name to behavior to appearance. The latter suggests the work of a four-year-old who got a little too carried away with her crayons rather than that of Mother Nature or an almighty creator. As for their behavior, the easiest way to see the famed gallitos, which are well represented in the Andean cordillera all the way from Bolivia in the south up into southwestern Venezuela in the north, is to go to a lek — a known mating site, where the males will gather to make frequent piglike squeals and jump and dance to attract female mates. 

garden of the Andes

Vibrant and colorful, distinctly Colombian and yet unmistakably Andean, Jardín is an absolute gem of a town. Located 3-4 hours south of Medellin, it was the first stop on our driving tour of central Colombia’s temperate Andean foothills, where we headed after our whale-chasing adventure on the remote Pacific Coast. For D, who spent several years living in the Andes in neighboring Ecuador, Jardín threw wide the floodgates of fond recollections. And yet, the town has its own unique vibe that is unlike anything else one may encounter in Colombia, let alone elsewhere in the Andes.

a whale tale

Morromico’s rugged beauty, remote location, and rustic charm are reasons enough to visit this remote outpost on Colombia’s Pacific Coast, but none were the driving force behind our decision to travel there. Simply put, we had come for the humpback whales, which begin arriving in Colombian waters in June and spread out along the country’s 1,300-kilometer coastline until November. We knew, of course, that with nature-based tourism there is never any guarantee. We also knew that by coming in the shoulder season our chances of actually seeing whales were slimmer than they would have been later in the summer. Lastly, we knew that we were heading to one of the wettest places on the planet and that there was a decent chance that our gamble might backfire spectacularly with several days of inclement weather instead of the humpback sightings we had visualized.

skankin’ round the world

“Ska means mundo, which means the world,” Junebug knowingly exclaimed from her carseat, pre-empting D’s response to Munchkin’s question about his favorite music genre. She was not wrong either. Not only does ska mean the world to D, but also the song she was referencing — Ska Mundo Ska, recorded jointly by Desorden Publico (Venezuela) and Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra (Japan) — is a stellar example of the genre’s global appeal. Whereas in the States ska bands tend to fly under the mainstream radar (the 90’s third wave bubble being the exception to this rule), in many other countries ska remains an integral influence for major national artists. Look no further than the 2020 Summer Olympics in Japan: Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra played the Games’ Closing Ceremony.

motion in the ocean

Morromico, the first stop on our two-week Colombia tour, was a bit off the beaten path. To reach it, we had to take a puddle-jumper charter flight to Nuqui on the Pacific coast, then a motorboat along the coastline for half an hour. There are no roads in this part of the country, and those who do venture to this part of the Pacific coast tend to fly into Bahia Solano further north, as it has considerably more infrastructure than Nuqui, whose population of fishermen and farmers numbers a mere 4,000.

early returns

After a pair of flights that left at an unconscionable hour, we returned from Colombia early enough this morning to go out for Sunday brunch at our favorite local restaurant in San Jose — the final act of a two-week escape from both kids and adult responsibilities. Already, chores and looming work tasks are beginning to erode the reservoir of rest we have built up. We’ll get a few more days of relative peace and respite before the kids return to Costa Rica midweek. 

please reconsider travel

Our employer discourages travel to Colombia. The county has a level 3 (out of 4) travel warning that urges Americans to reconsider visiting while providing a number of illustrative examples of the kind of gruesome violence that used to be the calling card of the Medellin cartel and which still occurs from time to time in parts of the country. The State Department also explicitly restricts where its employees may travel within Colombia, leading us to take a step we have never hitherto taken in nearly two decades of globetrotting. Before purchasing flights and making hotel reservations, we reached out to the embassy security office in Bogota and requested their review of the itinerary we had developed.