Ciudad Perdida is Colombia’s answer to Machu Picchu
This country has been making headlines for all the wrong reasons, but for some tourists, this place is even better than Machu Picchu.
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After three long days of arduous trekking through pristine Colombian rainforest only twelve hundred steps remain until we reach our destination, La Ciudad Perdida. But those twelve hundred winding steps of wildly varying height are one of the main reasons that Colombia’s answer to Machu Picchu is so rarely visited and such a rewarding experience for those who do.
A late lunch on the riverbed below this ancient city has served us well but it is still an exhausting climb to our final destination and lodgings for the night. The narrow centuries old steps are slippery and hard to ascend (even more difficult to walk down I discover later) and mosquitoes zip about in abundance.
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The sound of what seems like a thousand birds buzzes in my ears as my heart pounds in my chest. The air is thick with moisture and humidity and the smell of dampness, at times the sun is barely able to break through the extensive canopy overhead. It is not hard to understand why these impressive and revered ancient Indian ruins are named “The Lost City”, one of the largest ancient cities in the Americas.
When we finally reach the city itself, on weary, uncertain legs, and sit atop the stone platforms where the villagers once slept it is evident that this labyrinth of stone stairs and platforms of a once great civilisation could have been known as the impenetrable city as well. The city commands awe inspiring views over the surrounding mountains and deep below into the ravines it sits astride.
Situated three days walk from the nearest road La Ciudad Perdida is a relatively demanding trek at times but it is one anyone with an above average level of fitness could undertake. It is a tour through some of the most incredible natural beauty in South America, across clean flowing rivers, along ridge lines with uninterrupted views, through deep ravines and past numerous indigenous villages. There is always something intriguing to look at and that is even before we reach our destination.
The Tayrona Indians who once lived in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta on the Caribbean Coast are considered one of the most advanced early civilisations of their time, and this once flourishing site is testament to that.
It takes hours to view the site, which archaeologists believe was founded as long ago as the fifth century BC and housed as many as 5,000 people before being abandoned during the Spanish conquest.
Today, much of it is still swallowed up by the green expanses of the jungle. The trees and bushes around are alive with animals but unlike Peru’s Machu Picchu this ancient world is not crawling with tourists. Against the hundreds of thousands that traipse around South America’s most popular site visitors here number a couple of thousand per year.
From the Caribbean coastal town of Santa Marta it is a two-hour drive along a mostly dirt and bumpy track to the start of our walk. The trail is wide and flat at first but this only lasts an hour or two.
It is then that the forest starts to devour everything. Local settlers and indigenous villagers wave and offer a friendly greeting each time they pass, some in traditional dress, others not. As the jungle gives way to a ridge it is hard to believe the ocean is little more than 50km away when all you can see from this elevated position is jungle and more jungle.
At the end of the first day, our 15-person group sleeps in hammocks inside a shed under a corrugated iron roof — somewhat like a hay store. At first it is hard to get used to the sway and shape of a hammock but I pass out before I have time to ponder it for too long.
The second day consists of an early morning climb up a muddy-clay incline made even more difficult by overnight rain. But the views at the top of the climb over valleys each side into green and more green as far as the eye can see are worth it. The red paths along the mountainside, through fences and past indigenous villagers tending cattle transport us back to a time when our destination would have been full of life. But youngsters selling cans of Coca-Cola for exorbitant prices suck us back to the present and dull some of the romance and feelings of complete isolation and bliss momentarily.
We yoyo up and down from the heights of the hills to the river below. It is hard to believe there are so many shades of green. Another corrugated iron roofed shack greets us on the second night and after another dinner of rice and little else the rushing sound of the nearby river is a sweet lullaby as we slip into a contented sleep.
At a cost of around US$150 per person for the entire trek the food is not great but the scenery more that makes up for it. At times I am caught for breath, and the sticky humidity means pit stops for water happen often but the trekking is consistent rather than challenging, the path steady rather than steep.
As we cross paths with another group I notice a Colombian woman walking in platform shoes with her poodle following behind and realise this trip has something for everyone.
It is a few weeks before the start of the rainy season and our guide Pablo says we are in luck as the river rarely gets lower.
As we descend down for another river crossing an indigenous villager cruises high above us in a flying fox. There are about a dozen river crossings, the water depth never greater than waist high and the cool water is an antidote to the persistent heat. I did the whole six days in sneakers but trekking boots would be preferable.
So it is on the third afternoon of this rewarding trek that I find myself climbing, clambering, scaling the final twelve hundred steps to La Ciudad Perdida.
The Lost City was discovered by accident in 1975 and at times throughout the trek I wonder if we will ever find it, even now just hundreds of metres away. The jungle scaling the mountain like a looks like a scene from an Indiana Jones movie and I expect poison darts to come shooting out at me any minute.
All the effort and exhaustion is worth it as I sit on the site of what was once one of the most salubrious dwellings in this ancient city commanding a magnificent outlook into the valleys below and the mountains above.
I try to imagine what this civilisation must have been like thousands of years ago as the sun casts its warmth upon me.
La Ciudad Perdida is a wonderfully intriguing place and one made even more so by the fact that very few people make the trek here each year. There are few places left in this world where you can truly get lost and wonder where you are, La Ciudad Perdida is one of them.
We spend the night at the city and explore again the next morning again before retracing our steps back over the next three days to the civilisation of the 21st Century.
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Originally published as Ciudad Perdida is Colombia’s answer to Machu Picchu
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