Hot Springs, Sparkling Wine, and Symphony

129 9 7
                                    

Colombia is blessed with an abundance of underground thermal energy. In places like the coffee growing area, one can drill a hole in the ground, and, if it's deep enough, hot water will spurt out like a geyser. I may be exaggerating a bit, but it's a way of saying that hot springs were a hot commodity everywhere we visited, and we took advantage of them whenever we could.

The morning started out with a leisurely walk along the mountain ridge of Manizales called Chipre. It was a long footpath along the very top of the city, with great views of the valleys on both sides of the ridge. The objective was to reach the tall lookout tower for even better views; but when we got there it was closed. After the long walk, we were a bit disappointed to be denied the opportunity, but even the views from the tower bottom compensated us for the effort of getting there. Furthermore, the cool, fresh air had energized us, and the stroll helped to digest the big breakfast we all had. We felt great. Literally, and metaphorically, we were on top of the world.

On the way down from the Chipre, we passed by the Music Conservatory. Given Silvio's musical interest, he marched right in and we followed him. When they saw a group of six grey-haired tourists wandering in the lobby, they told us that visitors needed special permission to enter. As the rest of us were starting to leave, Silvio began flexing his vocal chords, and his singing attracted attention. Some of us were already out the door when a security guard motioned us to return. We had just received special permission!

The guard insisted on giving us a personal tour of the conservatory, which included a walk to the rooftop, where students were practicing for a concert to be held on the following day. They told us that admission was free and invited us to attend. The view from the rooftop was superior to the views from the ridge and so we took advantage of the new vantage point for snapping more pictures.

After the invigorating morning walk, and the spectacular, panoramic views from the rooftop, we hopped on a bus to - you guessed it - a hot spring resort! It took us just a bit more than half an hour to get there, but it felt like we were half a world away. In that short time we had left the congested and noisy city behind, and were in the peaceful countryside. A mountain stream ran beside the resort. Its crystalline water frothed and sparkled over the riverbed stones that time had shaped and smoothed like an artist.

On the other side of the creek we had spotted some horses and thought we might be able to add horseback riding to our day's activities. With much anticipation, Pino and I crossed the little bridge and walked to the farmhouse. The farmer told us apologetically that he didn't rent out his horses. Oh well! We tried!

The thermal spa and hotel had a rustic, charming appearance. The hotel was nestled on the side of the hill above the cascading pools. The hot pool drained into the cooler one below, the patio restaurant was at a lower level and the massage therapy room lower still. The architect had used terracing, large stones and colourful plants to achieve an aesthetic setting that was captivating. I could feel a healing effect just standing there. Had we known about the hotel, we would have brought our belongings with us and stayed there for the remaining nights.

We met three other couples there, and after we got to know each other, it felt like we had our own private spa. We alternated between the hot and cold pools. The latter was slightly cooler, not cold, as the name implies. Both were very pleasant, but we spent more time in the cooler one. We also had whole-body massages - ooh so soothing! With the aromas of the oils she used and the soft relaxing music, I nearly fell asleep.

The resort owners had strategically placed jars filled with sugar water around the restaurant patio's periphery, and they attracted hummingbirds. During lunch, as we sat there enjoying our meal, they entertained us. I had my camera at the ready, but the perfect picture always eluded me. The show put on by the birds, as they came in and out to take sips of water, added to the allure of the place, and made our stay more pleasurable.

After a big lunch, nobody was in the mood for a big dinner, but I had already bought a bottle of sparkling wine to have with a nice meal. So, we had it with pizza instead! We ordered a family size pizza and some glasses for the wine. However, this was a budget pizzeria and the best they could do was plastic glasses. Thankfully, it wasn't expensive champagne. When the top went off with a bang, it got the attention of the other patrons, who spontaneously erupted in laughter, and we joined them. We hadn't intended to sip it with pizza. It just happened; and it was hilarious just thinking about it!

Manizales is the cultural centre of about half a million inhabitants. It was founded in 1849, but was destroyed by fire, in 1925, and subsequently rebuilt. It is a modern city with two noteworthy things: its cathedral; and the monument in honour of Símon Bolívar. The large church is probably the only one in the world to be constructed with poured concrete, in the neo gothic style. However, what it lacked in terms of expensive building materials was compensated for with clever and elegant design. Moreover, the large stained glass windows gave colour to the otherwise drab concrete grey.

Standing in the middle of the square, on top of a tall concrete pillar, is the controversial statue of Símon Bolívar, depicted as half man and half bird. The upper body is that of a condor - the mythical bird of Andean people. It's the most photographed monument in Manizales. As is normally the case with an unusual object of art, one either likes it or hates it - there is no middle ground. To me, it appeared to be alive and in motion. It looked fluid, elegant, and imposing - pure poetry. Furthermore, the sculptor had incorporated into it an element of Andean culture - the belief that people can enter the spirit world as anthropomorphic creatures.

The highlight of the evening was the symphony. We walked to Teatro Los Fundadores, for the season's opening performance of the Orquesta Sinfónica de Caldas. When we got there we lined up like everyone else. We had left early to make sure that we got good seats, so we were near the front of the line. By the time the doors opened, the line had gotten quite long. As people finally started moving, I saw them pulling out tickets from their pockets and purses. I suddenly felt a chill down my spine: we had been waiting in line for so long without tickets. Our moods quickly changed from euphoria that we were moving, to the chilling fear that we might not be able to get in. Although it was free admission, we needed tickets to get in. So, when the attendant asked us for tickets I said, "We don't have any."

To which he courteously replied, "You will have to wait outside until everyone with tickets has entered, and if there is still room, then we will let you in." We had stood in line for a long time, and we were not going to let a mere technicality get in the way of seeing the performance. So, rather than moving to the back of the line, I said to him, "Yesterday, at the Music Conservatory, they told us it was free admission and to come directly to the theatre. No one told us about tickets." Hearing this, the young man discreetly stuck his hand in his jacket's inside pocket, pulled out some tickets, and gave them to me, upon which I returned them to him and we gained admission. Thanks to Silvio's theatrics the day before, we enjoyed an excellent performance, from the best seats in the house.

I no longer have a copy of the program, and can't remember all the pieces they played, but I recall the last two quite well. The second last piece was 'Toreador' from Georges Bizet's Carmen, of which they gave a wonderful rendition. The last one was Maurice Ravel's Bolero, and the performance merited the long, standing ovation. We left Manizales on a high note!

Thank you for your interest in my story. If you enjoyed reading this chapter, please don't forget to vote. Thank you.  



Traveling in ColombiaWhere stories live. Discover now