Zona Caffine the land of the barking dogs

For someone with a sensitivity or low tollerance for sugar, alcohol and caffine its a little odd to be visiting one of the hotspots for caffine production. On a recommendation and as a chance to catch up with Juan for a long weekend I am here seeking caffine direct from the source. Salento was the first stop, a traditional town of late colonial architecture and in the middle of the Zona Cafetera. What was intended to be a wholesome day of sightseeing in the old town and in the local national park turned into a souvenier shopping marathon which lasted all afternoon, punctuated by a walk up to the mirador and a splash of the local coffee. Armed with more tatt than I know how to get back to London we made our way back to Pereira for a night on a soft mattress (so I hoped), however on arrival back in Pereira we discovered no matter how posh the hotel the mattresses are still as hard as a rock, must be a Pereira or Zona Cafetera thing... although as we have a family room with the choice of three beds we settled on the childerens beds as at lest they seemed to have at least an inch of foam to soften the blow... thank the stars for childerens beds. Cant help feeling like Im going to fall out of single beds though, I always wake in a start in the middle of the night as the least sniff of the edge of the matress. As the next day was going to be direct to a coffee finca with only an hour or so on route, we decided to head out to a local bar and sample the local nightlife. The internet being what it is we unsuccessfully found three bars but were successfull on the forth and final on our list - a strange mix of Madonna, Adel and Colombian salsa house saw us through a few hours and it was off to bed for a night of well earned sleep in semi comfortable beds. In the morning the anticipated up and out was thwarted by the Colombian decision making process... I should explain here my observation of Colombian decision making and communicating in general... what can be said in 10 words or less is often communicated in several minutes of discussion and converence often involving many people... and to be able to do anything or make a decision in Colombia you must consult the internet, phone a friend or two and then revert to a hotel employee to verify all the information and advice you have just been given... I think we phoned everyone bar the president of the United States of America and the Queen of England, Im pretty sure the Dalai Lama got a call at some point though. It all makes for a very sociable and democratic decision making process. Some two hours after we awoke - and a real hot, you heard me, HOT, shower! - we were finally on route to Hacienda Guayabal deep in coffee country... the usual bus journey with all its highlights and lowlights and we arrived at a nameless path off the main road through a barios of bamboo houses and a curious bamboo church - yup bamboo, who would have guessed they have bamboo in Colombia? dotted around the countryside and in small woods bamboo is native to Colombia and shares the slopes with the expected mix of tropical trees, palms and banana plants - a short climb later, which brings back memories of Cuidad Perdida, and we were at the finca house, a stunning minimalist 70s construction surrounded by cocoa, papaya and palm trees and 87 hectares of coffee. Before we had a chance to sit down the coffee was on the way and although not being a coffee expert you could tell this was good stuff, thats single source premium 18 coffee to you, I didnt know what that meant either until the 2 hour tour around the finca and the process of turning the cherry into a coffee bean. Did you know that the coffee bean is effectively peeled 3 times before it gets to the stage where it is ready for roasting? The first is the cherry like outer, the second is a grape sweet coating on the bean, then after drying the bean has a husk which is removed and you have the bean ready for roasting... and then even if you chew on the bean before its roasted it has a sunflower like seed inside the bean... Surprising fas-kin-ating. Coffee beans in their natural state are far more enjoyable than some Colombian fruit Ive tried to date... the names escape me at present but one is round similar in size to a cherry tomato, which looks like a tomato unpeeled but like a cross between a potato and a carrot in colour... they draw you in by sprinkling over sugar and sweet honey and when you thrust it in your mouth and realise its texture is like a cross between a dry micowaved fiberous potato and a carrot with a similar taste you feel cheated and struggle to find the attraction of these oddities, as they are sold on every street corner and sell like hot cakes and regarded as a treat... the other is a large orange sized fruit in a dull green easy peel skin, the flesh is a bright orange similar to a peach but as a recurring theme, has a fibreous flesh, and you can easily peel segments out just like an orange - the catch? Those segments are 20% fruit and 80% stone the size of an unshelled brazil nut, very tasty flesh but you feel cheated and frustrated at not being able to sink your teeth into it and give it a good chew, sigh. Several hours, many coffees, a stellar lunch and dinner and several games of cards later - including a thunder storm out of a hollywood movie and dogs that never seem to stop balking. Whenever a dog barks on the finca or on a neighbouring finca they all set off and this continued into the small hours (ok we were in bed by 11pm, but thats the small hours here) without let up until I think they finally tired of it or got sore throats - who knows, thank to my ear plugs I managed to escape the inconvenience once my head hit the pillow. The ear plugs didnt help with the noisy beds though, I always feel like I am going to fall out of a single bed, I wake up startled thinking I am on the edge. These beds have seen better days and although they were comfortable the bow to the edges accentuated the feeling of falling to my death in mid sleep - not helped by the fact that when you moved the bed continued to move for what seemed an eternity afterwards and made some curious noises to boot. I got up for the obligatory bathroom break in the middle of the night thanks to the gallons of coffee, kicked an invisible chair on my way (its dark out here) and caused Juan to break into laughter, him thinking I had actually fallen out of bed - having told him about my fear of single beds previously. Breakfast was another three course feast that I struggled to consume, not because it wasnt tasty - it was amazing, but Im not one for eating as soon as I wake up and this was enough food for a whole day or a family of three - we werent to be hungry again until 7pm that night. Struggling to wake up and get ourselves into gear, depite the gallons of Colombian Arribica coffee and the usual Colombian decision making process (this time I think we did actually call Obama and Elizabeth) - although its hard to drag yourself away from this place and I was quite happy chillaxing... this is the ultimate relaxation spot, with a fantastic view, a beautiful house, a pool, the atmosphere of quiet mediterranian island and service like a five star hotel - but small town B&B prices... it`s a shame we didnt get to stay longer but the Santa Rosa Termales becon and Juan returns to Bogota in the morning. Taking the old track back to Santa Rosa, which last hosted the train tracks in 1945, was a surreal experince with old colonial train stations still remaining along the stone and mud track. Sheer drops to one side, the usual bumps and humps that remind you where you are and in the smallest mini bus I had ever been in make it all the more eventful (think mini bread delivery van in a rural french village). Time was getting on and it was a mad dash by taxi to the thermal springs for some hot water therapy, however in Colombian style badly produced tinny music was blaring out of the Swiss challet style building which distracted from the fairy tale falls and mountain landscape... been there, done that, back to Santa Rosa for a well earned chorizo sausage, beans, rice and a local delecacy which turned out to be home fries and it was back on the road back to Pereira still buzzing on the finca coffee. Juan returns to Bogota in the morning and I move north through Manizales and Medellin before my return to Bogota on Friay... its that time in a holiday when I start thinking about the return to reality but I am trying to block that out of my mind for as long as possible, so I must keep extra busy from now until Sunday. Water bottle still tastes like Gatorade, mosquito bites and sunburn subsided, calouses on my bum cheeks still there (thats what you get from living in wet clothing and sitting on wooden benches for 5 days I guess), running out of clean socks and craving a cup of tea, despite all the coffee.