Arriving in Cali, Colombia

The Maria Victoria Hotel had been built in the early 1800’s. It was all wood, inside and out. The floors were plank and peg and as smooth as satin from years of footsteps. The big ornate front desk was mahogany with a mountain scene carved on the front. The girl waiting behind it was gorgeous. She was about 18 with long black hair and brown eyes that didn’t leave Randy. He was doing a lot of looking at her too. Cali, Colombia has some of the most beautiful women in South America.
As the luggage was being brought in from the van Tio came out from the back and said he had asked the cook to open the kitchen and prepare something for us to eat.
In the meantime we were all given upstairs rooms. The two married couples got rooms for themselves. Everyone else shared. Four or five to a room. The rooms were sparsely furnished a bed and a dresser but they were immaculate and the beds were comfortable. There was one bathroom for every two rooms. Bill and I were lucky we had our own bathroom right in our room. It had a sink, a pull chain toilet and a shower. An alcohol heater on the wall heated the water. Very efficient. The walls of the bathroom started a foot from the floor and ended a foot from the ceiling. Like a stall in a restroom. They had been added to the rooms after plumbing arrived.

The meal was delicious. Big salads, delicious stew, hot fresh bread and hot coffee. Everyone was starving, the only meal since Panama was the sandwich we had refused on the plane. I desperately needed a cup of coffee. I picked it up cradling the cup in my hands and smelling the aroma rising from it, smelled strong. I took a big gulp and almost spit it out. I couldn’t take another sip, it was nasty. Not only was it strong and thick it was just plain horrible. In fact the entire time we were in Colombia I did not have a decent cup of coffee. After a couple of tries I started drinking coke instead. The only thing I could figure out was that the coffee served in Colombia must have been made from the beans Juan Valdez rejected. Bill said it was just that I didn’t like espresso. No - it was terrible.
While we were eating Tio came in to talk to us. One of the things he told us was that Cali was a beautiful city but it also was a very dangerous city. The unemployment was very high so many people were reduced to stealing to support themselves and their families. He assured us the hotel was very safe. But we should be very careful with our valuables when we were outside. And be aware of who was around us. He suggested that Lucy and I should not carry purses or wear any jewelry.
After dinner we all went up to our rooms to collapse. The beds were wonderful and the sheets from much laundering were like silk. We all fell into exhausted sleep.

The next day all the men got on a bus and left for the port town of Buenaventura. It’s a good sized town, squeezed between the mountains on one side and the Pacific on the other. It’s the main Pacific port for Colombia. The Gulf Trader carrying all the cars and the motorhome would dock there sometime the following day and they wanted to get a start on filling out all the paperwork. They should return in three days at the most.
Lucy, Lyle, John, Paul, Gil and I stayed in Cali.
Bill and John Mc said the bus ride almost made true believers of them. The bus was about 30 years old and painted in garish colors, yellow, green, and blue being the most dominate. It had more dents and scrapes then undamaged areas. The seats were unpadded metal, the paint long since worn off. The road could be seen through the wooden floors. And the driver was crazy or had a death wish. In 25 miles the road went from Cali, at 6000 feet down the mountains to sea level. It had 1 ½ lanes, no shoulders, no side rails and switchbacks every mile or so. Truck and bus traffic roared by in both directions. Randy who sat in a front seat said he broke all his nails because he was gripping the seat so hard. Having survived the ride they arrived at the wharf area.
The smell hit them before way before they got off the bus. From his previous trips Maynard knew of a “hotel” near by where they could spend the night. The “hotel” was little more than a flophouse. Because of the swampy ground most of the buildings built near the docks were built on stilts. Also the high humidity caused everything to be mildewed, damp and slimy green. The ten of them walked over to the hotel to register. They lucked out and there was room as long as they didn’t mind sharing. They ended up four to a room which would have been okay except there was only one bed! The bathroom was down the hall and used by everyone on that floor. But it would do for the night. Tomorrow the boat would dock and they could head back to Cali.
Bright and early they headed for the shippers. They found the office with no problem. The agent was very glad to see them, but there was a slight problem. The freighter was still in Panama City. There was some problem with a dock worker’s strike.
When would it be in Buenaventura then? We’re not sure, check again in a couple of days. We’ll be able to tell you then. Great!
After some discussion it was decided to return to Cali to wait, they had the agent’s phone number and could call him. Check out of the hotel and back on another bus. The ride back was a little better as they were on the mountain side of the road and the bus was a little newer. And this driver was younger and not quite so crazy.

Meanwhile, in Cali, we girls and kids stayed in the hotel, not wanting to venture outside. The food in the dining room was good and the kids had a deck of cards so they were amused.
Imagine our surprise when Bill and everyone else showed up sans vehicles. It seems we would be in Cali longer than we thought.
The next few days in Cali were spent exploring the city and religiously calling the shipping agent. Nope the Gulf Trader was still in Panama.
We did a lot of walking around the city. I did not carry my purse, and only wore my wrist watch. Bill carried his billfold in his front pants pocket where it would be harder to lift. We were unmolested. However a couple of the guys traveling in our group weren’t so lucky. Bruce insisted on carrying his wallet in his back pocket, He said he was big enough to take care of himself. Guess whose wallet was stolen? He felt a bump and immediately realized what had happened. He yelled at a young guy who was running away from them and Lucy spun around and started to chase him. Bruce grabbed her to stop her before she got in trouble. They decided they would report it to the police. When they got to the police station the police already knew about his wallet being stolen, in fact they had it. Minus the money.
Frenchie was eating in an outdoor restaurant and actually took his watch off and handed it to someone to admire. One second later it and the admirer were gone. Any way that is the story we got. Everyone kind of figured he was really mugged and didn’t want to admit it. Also one of the ladies from the hotel had her pierced earrings stolen right out of her ears. Someone came up behind her and just ripped them out. Enough of that. We also had a good time.

The restaurants were different. The menus were posted on the walls and in everyplace the last item on the menu was Alka Seltzer! Says a lot about the food. We pretty much lived on perros caliente, papa fritas, and coke. (Hot dogs, French fries and coke.)We did find a couple of good places to eat. One was an American chain hotel, a Holiday Inn - they had good breakfast French toast and eggs. Another was a little Italian place. It was a couple of blocks from the hotel in the basement of an apartment building. We found it because they were having an Easter celebration and had music and dancing out front in the street. So we ate dinner there a couple of times.

Good News! - the boat has left Panama City and should be in Buenaventura in two days.
Bad News! - the boat was off shore but could not dock because it was Holy Week, the week before Easter, and the dock workers did not work. Right after Easter it should be coming in.

Speaking of Holy Week. The Colombians are quite religious and act out on it. Just at the edge of Cali there was a hill about 500 feet high; on top of it were three gleaming white crosses. Beginning at sunrise on Good Friday a large procession of men dressed in white robes and/or loin cloths were climbing the hill. On their heads were crowns of thorns. On their shoulders rested big crosses that they were dragging up the hill. It was an impressive sight to see.
While wandering around town we stepped into a big beautiful Catholic Church. There was a mass in progress. The priest and alter boys were chanting in Latin. All of a sudden Paul started to cry and hide behind me. For some reason this freaked him out. We had to get out of there right away. It took a while to calm him down; he just said he was SCARED in there. Don’t know why.
Our couple of days in Cali were turning into over a week. Our clean clothes were running out. We needed to do something. We asked Tio about doing laundry. He said he had a laundry woman, the one who washed the towels and sheets and she would be glad to do our laundry too.
She was a small stocky woman who was always smiling and singing. From the constant motion of scrubbing and wringing the linens she had arms bigger than most weight lifters. The whole time we were there I never saw her standing still. She took our laundry and returned it the next day, clean and folded and wouldn’t take any money for it. She did take a couple of magazines though.
Finally the boat would dock soon. Off to Buenaventura they went again. This time Frenchie stayed in Cali with me, Lucy and the younger boys. He shared a room with a couple of our kids. Later I found out they would stay up half the night playing poker with him and hollering at the girls who were going to the night club across the street.