The first thing I did after leaving Vélez, was to go back to Barichara, which I had liked very much but had only seen when it started to get dark. It really is a beautiful and peaceful village with cobblestone streets and whitewashed buildings with red-tiled roofs. The bottoms of the houses are painted in different shades of green and blue. It is said to be the most beautiful colonial village of Colombia.
I took a walk along the “Camino real”, a pathway that leads to a village called Guane. That was nice and peaceful too. Too peaceful, maybe. I didn’t see a human soul in more than two hours and I couldn’t help my thoughts going back to a movie about kidnapping I had seen the day before, as well as recent ghost stories. Apparently, I don’t like loneliness as much as I pretend to. Or rather, I like to be on my own but amidst fellow human beings. Somehow, I started to quicken my pace. Until I got nearer to Guane and found a sign saying there was a piece of land for sale. I stopped. Looked at the vegetation. The mountain in front of the one where I was standing. Started to imagine a house on that piece of land. A garden and a hammock. I took a picture with my cell phone and as I was standing there with the tool in my hand, I hesitated to call and ask about the price. But didn’t do it. I imagined there would be dozens of other places I would see before ending my travels and fall in love with them. And I would have given my mum a heart attack, which isn’t a very nice thing to do.
I didn’t spend much time in Guane but still enough to observe that the dead often enjoy the best views. There was a splendid one from the cemetery. To make sure they rest in peace, I guess. I do share the opinion that one should take good care of the deceased, in order to generate less angry spirits. That thought came to my mind on the following day, as I got stuck in the last resting place of the Baricharans because of the pouring rain. I both enjoy and fear the company of the dead. On the one hand, it stimulates introspection. But, on the other hand, it makes you feel uncomfortable, probably because of the fact that introspection and being confronted with oneself is not always a pleasant thing. In a cemetery, you feel loneliness and “meaning of life” questions arise more easily than in any other place.
On that note, I left for Bucaramanga, the capital of the province of Santander.