9/25: Pinturas Near Tunja, Colombia: Our Greatest Adventure So Far!

In the last post, I wrote about visiting or trying, at least, to visit several churches in Tunja, the capital of the Colombian state of Boyaca, as they were well known for their famous mudejar ceilings. The day had been mostly a loss except for our discovery  of the fascinating St. Clara museum and chapel just before we took the bus back to Villa de Leyva. 

At almost 5, we had the harebrained idea to jump off the bus at the turnoff for Pinturas y Petroglyfios before the town of Sachia. The bus driver had never heard of the 'paintings and petroglyphs' but we thought we’d give them a whirl hoping they weren’t too far from the highway even though it was late in the day to start such a trek especially since we didn’t know how far or where they were! 

The only information we had about the location of the rock paintings was this: 'Around 10km down the road to Santa Sofía. The site is hard to find on your own.' The directions weren't as explicit as we would have liked, needless to say!

Coming across the sign was reassuring, let me tell you!

Steven thought we’d be OK since maps.me had been reliable in the past. We would sure put it to the test this time since we were pretty much well off the beaten track!

Even if we didn't see any rock paintings, at least we could claim we'd spotted some goats!

After walking for a bit, we came across three locals whom we then followed for a good stretch through fields, across streams with very rickety bridges, past cows and barking dogs and, to add insult to injury, prickly cactus, too!

Sorry some of these photos are blurry; normally I would have deleted them but they were the best I could take when we were trying to keep up the fast pace set by the people up front and I didn't have the time to stop and take photos but rather just 'point and shoot' while still walking!

The locals turned off and then we were on our own still hoping to find the rock paintings before darkness set in for the night. 

One of the men in particular was so friendly and effusive – we felt like old friends by the time we each went our separate ways!

The 'path' really fit the description of uphill and down dale!

A board constituted the bridge across the stream.

A view looking back where we'd hiked through the mountains. I remember just wondering here how much further we had to go and what sort of other terrain we might be facing ahead.

Luckily, a short time later, we came across the pinturas or rock art. Before writing this post, I learned anthropologists and archaeologists define rock art as images carved, drawn, or painted onto immovable rock surfaces. Images that are carved or engraved into rock are called petroglyphs while images made with paint or other pigment are called pictographs. I still wasn't sure what the difference was between rock art and pictographs after reading that!

We had no information about them so were left to speculate how long they might have been there, who and why had painted them and with what substances.

It made me think what else is yet to be discovered in similarly remote locations around the world.

I am not a good enough writer to adequately explain the sense of awe and amazement we both felt on discovering by ourselves the images as their location was anything but easy to find. I remember feeling a huge sense of relief that our admittedly crazy idea of hopping off the bus in the middle of a busy highway late in the day had resulted in our reaching our goal of viewing the pictographs.

Because of the lateness of the hour and the setting sun, we didn’t dawdle too long as we wanted to safely retrace our steps through the fields and almost indistinguishable path to the spot on the highway where we’d been dropped off. I have a better sense of direction than Steven but even I wished that we'd thought to leave a trail of bread crumbs behind us like Hansel and Gretel!

On our hike back, we noticed in the distance the very friendly man who had helped us earlier. It looked like he was trying to round up a very unwilling cow in the pasture!

At one point, the winds picked up furiously and the temperature dropped several degrees in a matter of minutes.

Steven wasn't too happy that I asked him to stop here so I could take his photo as he was concerned that one of the cows might decide to become aggressive. His fears, luckily, amounted to nothing and we passed without incident.

Far more 'dangerous' in my mind was our both crossing this rickety foot bridge in one piece!

As we neared the road back up to the highway, a farmer saw us and picked half a dozen tomatoes for us from his garden. What kindness and generosity. 

We didn’t tell him, of course, that unfortunately we wouldn’t be eating them as we were taking an early bus to Bogota and then flying onto Quito tomorrow. I would have loved eating them in an omelet. 

By the time we got back to the curve in the highway, it was pitch black and we had no idea when a bus going to Villa de Leyva might appear and, more importantly, whether he would see us and be able to stop in time. I must admit to having some concerns at that point about the wisdom of our unexpected adventure. A bus headed for ‘home’ did indeed pass us soon so we began walking and hoping we wouldn’t have to make the trek all the way to Villa de Leyva. Luckily, a top of the line tour bus kindly stopped about twenty minutes later so we hopped in with much relief and appreciation as you can imagine! In almost no time, we were back safe and sound in Villa de Leyva with another adventure under our belt to share.

I can’t begin to describe how incredible a sight it was to see the pinturas after a hike I don’t think we’ll ever forget! We always call our long overseas trips ‘adventures’ rather than vacations and this adventure was one of our favorite ones ever. Adding the element of danger from not knowing where the rock paintings were AND starting out later than was probably prudent was even more exciting, especially in retrospect! Our adventure was the perfect ending to four fabulous days in colonial Villa de Leyva.

Next post: A mugging and walking tour of Quito, Ecuador.

Posted on October 7th, 2017, from Guayaquil, Ecuador.

9/25: Villa de Leyva to Tunja, Colombia: Never on a Monday!

After another mouth-watering breakfast at our hotel in Villa de Leyva, we arrived in the neighboring town of Tunja by about mid-morning. The city, founded by Gonzalo Suarez Rendon in 1539 on the site of Hunza, the pre-Hispanic Muisca settlement, was the capital of the state of Boyaca and a bustling student center. We wanted to visit Tunja because I had read the city was a trove of colonial-era churches noted for their Mudejar art, an Islamic-influenced style developed in Christian Spain between the 12th and 16th centuries.

We walked directly to the historical center of the city and saw the Iglesia de Santo Domingo which was built in 1560.

I can't remember a time when we've entered a church and not headed directly to the main altar. At this church, however, we were drawn immediately to the eye-popping Chapel of the Rosary. It comprised bas-reliefs in wood and plaster representing the fifteen Mysteries of the Rosary. The lavish red-painted ceiling was embedded with gold metalwork. 

Another stunning side chapel:

I believe this was the Baptistry.

The opulent main altar was carved in gold-painted wood and depicted scenes from the life of Santo Domingo. The oil painting at the top was of Holy Ecce Homo dating from the 18th century.

This was the first time we had seen recycling containers in  church.

St. Thomas University, located next door, was the first of several colleges and universities we saw in Tunja.

After walking to Templo Santa Barbara next and finding it closed, we strolled along a pedestrian mall which headed directly into the main square called, naturally, Plaza Bolivar!

We had been forewarned that since Tunja was the highest and coldest state capital we had better dress warmly. However, we found it very pleasantly warm.

Historical Tunja, including the cathedral, was declared a National Monument of Colombia in December, 1959. 

A plaque on the corner building as we entered the plaza honored the city's independence from Spain. It must have had government offices as there was a significant police presence in front of it.

There was a large barricade around Bolivar's statue, unfortunately, which prevented everyone from getting a decent shot of it.

The Renaissance-style Cathedral Basilica of St. James the Apostle, also simply called Tunja Cathedral, was the oldest cathedral in Colombia and built in 1598. It had a single tower and its interior consisted of three naves with side chapels. 

The large signs on either side of the Cathedral's main door announced upcoming funeral Masses.

Somehow, we had timed our arrival just as Mass was ending - that seems to have been our pattern of later! The simple interior  highlighted the original 16th century mix of Elizabethan gothic arches and Moorish ceiling.

The remains of Gonzalo Suárez Rendón, the Spanish captain who founded Tunja, lay in one of the chapels but it was only visible by sticking my camera through the grating and hoping for a passable shot.

Two more exquisite chapels:

We were so happy that this chapel had the beautiful mudejar ceiling as we'd made the day trip to Tunja specifically to see church ceilings like that.

Steven remarked he should be an honorary Catholic because he has accompanied me to so many churches on our travels! I certainly agree.

I loved this shot from the Cathedral through to the main square.

Another view of the square from the front of the Cathedral:

Immediately next to the church was a charming café that  peeked my head (and camera, obviously) into but neither of us are normally café-type people and we had other places we hoped to see.

There was no sign out front but this doorway next to the café had to be the Casa del Fundador Suarez Rendon but it was closed up tight. We had hoped to visit it as it was supposed to have been one of the colonial mansions that had ceilings featuring a strange mishmash of motifs taken from very different traditions.

So, instead we walked toward another colonial mansion, Casa de Don Juan de Vargas. As you can see, much of the city was quite hilly, so we got our exercise traipsing uphill and downhill looking for churches that were open!

We had been so looking forward to seeing the Casa as it was supposed to have had a ceiling with mythological scenes, human figures, animals and plants, coats of arms and unusual architectural details. It would have been so fantastic trying to spot Zeus and Jesus amid tropical plants or an elephant under a Renaissance arcade! The source of these bizarre decorations is thought to have been Juan de Vargas himself who was a scribe and had a large library with books on European art and architecture, ancient Greece and Rome and religion and natural history.

I cannot believe I didn't buy any of these strawberries as they looked so yummy and were sold on so many street corners, too. But we stopped for a bite to eat at one of the countless chicken restaurants. Afterward, we retraced our steps to the Casa by the Cathedral, hoping it would be open after lunch time. Unfortunately, it wasn't open to visitors then either.

St. Ignatius Church was likewise closed! We know that museums around the world are often closed on Mondays but we never imagined that most churches in Tunja would likewise be closed on Mondays.

We tried again to see St. Barbara Church but discovered it was only open at 6 unfortunately for nightly Mass. Our visit to Tunja seemed like pretty much of a bust until we took a chance of finding the Capilla y Muse de Santa Clara La Real or St. Clara Chapel and Museum open. 

It was a fair distance away so we had an interesting walk seeing other 'attractions' on the way.

Some of the old colonial buildings were very appealing from the outside.

I read that this hotel was supposed to have had 'smartly furnished rooms surrounding a pleasant courtyard.' Sounded nice if we'd had an extra night to spare in town AND churches and other sights had been open!

At last we found the Museo de Santa Clara but it, too, looked like it was locked up tight.

Steven knocked on the door, rang the doorbell and finally was rewarded for his efforts when it was opened by a teenage boy. 

We knew our luck had changed not only when he spoke pretty decent English but the nominal admission included his taking us on a tour of the chapel and museum! When we asked why the front door had been closed, he mentioned that there was no money to pay police to keep watch over the chapel and museum.

He explained that a childless Spanish couple had this large home in 1571 and, when the couple divorced, the wife sought and received permission from the pope to open the home as the first convent house and church in Colombia.

The nuns distributed food daily for the needy of Tunja from this window, our guide explained.

He said this was a picture of what the original Guadalupe looked like when she came from Spain in the 17th century. I didn't know who Guadalupe was though, let alone the original one!

This little, windowless room was where Sister Francisca Josefa, Colombia's version of Mother Teresa, slept by herself for 53 years. Normally, 15-20 nuns slept together but she was illiterate. Our young guide explained she had a mystical connection with God and miraculously learned to read and write.

The Mother Superior’s office contained a 15th century painting made from eggs and plants.

The Spanish Conquistadors believed people could see their spirits in the mirrors and therefore removed them from the gold frames.

Sr. Josepha’s study included a 400-year-old desk.

She used this minuscule space, more of a cubbyhole really, next to her office to flagellate herself as she felt that with all her emotions of hunger and anger, etc, she was far from God and therefore needed to hurt herself to become closer to God. This was our first glimpse of the church. We could hardly wait to see more of it.

The wall in front of her desk looked perfectly blank until our guide turned out the light and we could see poems the nun had written on the wall as she had no paper! The writings on the wall were only revealed when people read her biography in which she stated what she had done.

The choir area, which overlooked the chapel or church but was not visible from below, was where the voices of all 200 nuns became one, our guide stated.

The floors felt every bit of their 450 or so years of age as we tread softly over them.

The gorgeously decorated choir ceiling:

There were two altars in the choir space because competing Mother Superiors each wanted their own! The yellow one was the newer one and partially blocked the older, red one, our guide explained.

At last our tour took us to the long-awaited chapel which was built using three different styles: Gothic, Baroque and Mudejar. The single nave church was saturated in red and gilded gold with depictions of religious scenes and details such as sun symbols which were especially important to the local indigenous Muiscas.  The hope was the design would help attract and perhaps, appease, the indigenous population. 

This was the location of the original altar but Sr. Josepha changed it to the current central spot.

The angel in the center of each of the six stars represented the cardinal points for the ‘natives’ aka indigenous peoples.

The portrait in the center was of the founder of the convent. When I asked when Masses were celebrated here, I was saddened to learn they were only offered on special holidays. 

The young man explained that the chapel and museum received no money from the government or archdiocese and that they only survived on donations from tourists. IF we understood him properly, it sounded like his family was solely responsible for upkeep of the beautiful shrine dedicated to Santa Clara. 

The museum and chapel tour had been a hidden gem. Our guide, his parents and sister provided tours but he was the only one in his family who spoke English. What luck that high school had ended for the day and that he’d been the one who had answered the door. for us. Unfortunately, it wasn’t surprising to learn they had only had four tourists in all of September because the entrance didn’t look inviting and welcoming. 

I read that Tunja was overlooked by travelers intent on rushing on to Villa de Leyva but it would have been a loss to have missed seeing this site in particular. If the other casas and churches had also been open, they would have been the proverbial cherry on top. We walked ten minutes down to the station and hopped on a bus a few minutes later to return to Villa de Leyva. 

Next post: Hiking to discover petroglyphs just an hour later.

Posted on October 7th, 2017, from Guayaquil, Ecuador.