Salento and the Zona Cafetera (Coffee Region!)
June 8-11
Following our frustrating flight experiences, Salento and the province of Quindio was a wonderfully refreshing place to recharge. Known for its industrious inhabitants (known as the “Yankees of Colombia”), Salento and the Quindio Province is filled with incredibly warm and welcoming people. These qualities combined with the stunning landscape made Salento one of the favorite places I’ve visited in South America.
As soon as we stepped outside of Armenia’s tiny airport terminal, the gregarious man behind the tourist information desk greeted us. We were the only tourists on our flight, so we had his full attention. His, warm, enthusiastic descriptions of the coffee region and Salento took our edge off, and we finally decided that we would shell out the money for the 45-minute cab ride to Salento instead of staying the night in Armenia.
By the time we had made our decision, we were the only people left at the terminal, and one taxi driver was patiently waiting for us to decide where we wanted to go. As we got into our cab, the tourist information man asked me a question about the taxi. Exhausted and slow, it took me five minutes to figure out that he was asking if he could ride with us to his house half of the way to Salento. After I agreed, the four of us piled into the cab and we were off along the tree-lined highway. As we drove, the cab driver and the tourist man played songs from Colombia’s most famous pop artists on the CD player, and answered our questions about the agricultural economy of the coffee region. After we dropped off our friend and neared our hostel on winding mountain roads, we were able to glimpse the silhouettes of the dramatic peaks and valleys of the coffee plantation landscape. We knew that we had arrived in a magical place.
Soon after we awoke following morning, we emerged from our hostel and began exploring the tidy alp-like mountain town of Salento. Although the air at the Armenia airport had been warm and slightly humid, the weather in Salento was crisp and sunny. It was a Monday morning, and as we walked by the schools, shops and workshops of the town I was struck by the fact that everyone seemed to be working, either at their shops or on their buildings. And indeed, all of the buildings were in excellent repair, with fresh coats of white paint and brightly colored windowsills and trim. The appearance of the buildings combined with potted geraniums in each window is strongly reminiscent of Alpine towns in Switzerland. Contributing to the affect are the lush green mountain pastures visible from much of the town.
After spending a lazy morning in town, we left our rather crowded hostel for a cheaper, nicer, and more central guesthouse called La Casona de Lili. This second-floor guesthouse only had four bedrooms, but the rough-hewn hardwood floors, charming kitchen, and eclectic music created a homey atmosphere.
After exploring for a bit, we took a 45-minute Jeep ride down the mountain to visit a small coffee finca. Jeeps are the main way to get in and out of Salento (they don’t have taxis), and most of them probably date from World War II. We found a lineup of them on the main plaza, and we were soon bumping along dirt roads out of Salento towards the warmer lowlands where coffee is grown.
When we arrived at the coffee finca, the owner, Don Elias, was waiting for us on the road. A friendly old man who looks like he stepped straight out of a Juan Valdez commercial, he showed us all of the steps involved in small-scale coffee production from cultivation to roasting while his grandson ran around. He began by taking us on a walk around his 5-hectare plantation, carefully pointing out the differences between the two types of coffee he grows. His two varietals (one bright red and the other yellow) mature at two different times of the year to ensure a constant supply, but they can also be blended together to create different flavors. As we talked, he demonstrated the proper technique to harvest coffee berries and pointed out how his banana trees shade the coffee plants from direct sun. He then showed us how he runs the berries through a machine that removes the brightly colored skins from the beans. After the skin is removed, the coffee is dried on a concrete floor for three days under a light colored canopy, and then it is ready for roasting. At this stage, the bean is still a creamy white color—the color of the bean depends on the roasting conditions.
Don Elias still roasts his coffee the traditional way, in a metal pot over a gas flame, though he says that he’d like to be able to process some of his coffee he grows for a botique market. In order to do this he will have to by a roasting machine, which is still a long way off for him. After he showed us how to roast coffee, he ground some of the finished product in a hand-cranked grinder. Once the grounds were ready, he handed them to his wife, who put them in a cloth bag and ran hot water through it while collecting the coffee in a bowl. We then drank the coffee out of two china cups in the kitchen with the Don and his wife (the Don drank an impressive amount straight out of the bowl). Sitting with Don Elias and his wife in the middle of their coffee finca was a magical experience, and it has definitely changed the way I look at my morning cup of coffee!
After returning to Salento by Jeep, Selina and I hiked to the top of the hill, to enjoy the scenic views of the city. That night, we had dinner on the main street, enjoying another cup of coffee after.
The following morning, we hoped to go to Cocora National Park to see its famed (and endangered) wax palms, but our trip was delayed by a late start to the day and the threat of rain. Eventually, we decided to go, clouds be damned, but soon after we hit the road in our jeep, the rain began. By the time the jeep dropped us off, the light shower had turned into a heavy downpour, but we hiked for a bit anyway, having the road to ourselves and enjoying the spectacularly tall trees. The wax palm is a fitting choice for Colombia’s national tree, a tropical tree for a temperate climate.
When we left Salento the next morning, we were sad to leave its friendly people and countless espresso machines behind. I hope to return someday to soak in the tranquil pace of life in such a majestic setting.
