As the rain finally subsides in La Guajira, the remote northern region of Colombia, dusk settles, casting a mesmerizing blend of pink, purple, and orange hues across the landscape. The vast expanse is transformed into a muddy canvas, with puddles stretching towards the horizon.
Navigating through the treacherous terrain, our truck maneuvers through the sticky red clay, causing us, the passengers in the backseat, to cling onto the grab handles above the windows. These handles, informally referred to as the “oh shit” handles by my friend Becky Hickson, serve as our support, preventing any unintended collisions.
At one point, our driver communicates in Spanish to our guide that the four-wheel drive is malfunctioning. This revelation sparks concern, particularly when we pass a group of locals struggling to free their marooned vehicle from the unforgiving mud. It remains stubbornly stuck under the weight of groceries and oversized boxes.
Reflecting on the situation, our guide Sebastian “Sebas” Fergusson emphasizes the importance of having knowledgeable guides in this region. He explains, “This is precisely why we discourage people from traveling here without guides. It’s far too easy to get lost.
Cabo de la Vela = beckons us—a serene fishing village where the desert merges with the sea along the northern Caribbean coast of Colombia. The name “cape of sails” was bestowed upon it by Spanish conquistadors who were captivated by the resemblance of the desert terrain and bluffs to a sailboat. This charming locale has become a sought-after beach destination and a coveted spot for kitesurfing enthusiasts.
Furthermore, Cabo de la Vela holds deep cultural significance as the sacred land of the Wayúu (pronounced wah-you), Colombia’s largest indigenous group, comprising nearly 40 percent of the region’s population. These tribal lands also extend into the northwestern part of Venezuela.
“It is widely known among Colombians that the landscapes encountered on this journey are unparalleled, and it is the aspiration of many to visit and revel in the breathtaking views and pristine beaches, which rank among the finest in Colombia,” expresses Fergusson. “Due to its challenging accessibility, embarking on this trek requires an adventurous spirit.”
Rancheria Utta = awaits us—a befitting abode for our group of intrepid travel journalists, photographers, and my adventurous companion, Hickson. Nestled within this rugged outpost, Rancheria Utta emulates the traditional Wayúu indigenous settlements known as “rancherias.” It consists of a cluster of simple houses where multiple family members reside together on a shared plot of land, offering an upscale experience compared to other accommodations available in “El Cabo.”
Under the cover of darkness, we arrive, guided by the distant crashing waves, which serve as a reminder of the nearby presence of the sea. We locate our room within a double row of charming thatched-roof cabins, merely a few steps away from the beach. Our lodging boasts a private bathroom, modest furnishings with two simple beds, and illumination provided by generators, along with a fan to combat the heat.
Given that the village lacks electricity and running water, the generators operate for a limited number of hours each night to meet the demand. Surprisingly, we hardly notice the power outage. The shower water flows from a rudimentary PVC pipe, and to my delight, I discover that it is pleasantly warm.
Meanwhile, at the salt flats in Manaure, workers diligently shovel salt, adding to the captivating scenes of the region.
Our introduction to the Wayúu people, often referred to as the “people of the sun, sand, and wind,” commenced earlier in the day with a visit to Manaure (mah-now-ray) and its renowned salt flats, known as Salinas de Manaure. These salt flats contribute approximately 70 percent of Colombia’s total salt production.
The Guajira peninsula boasts ideal conditions for salt extraction, thanks to its sun-drenched terrain and powerful winds. This industry holds deep historical significance for the Wayúu, predating the attempts of Spanish colonizers in the 15th century to claim the region. Remarkably, the Wayúu tribe never relinquished their ancestral lands.
In this process of salt extraction, water pumps, rather than chemicals, are employed, as our second guide, Leiner Pinto, who himself has Wayúu heritage, explains. The remaining steps rely on the forces of Mother Nature.
“It’s a natural process in which we harness the power of sunlight,” he elucidates. “This particular area possesses unique characteristics, allowing the water to remain on the land without seeping into the ground. As a result, the sun evaporates the water, leaving behind the salt.”
To honor the Wayúu tradition of salt extraction from these renowned salt flats, statues at the Museo de la Sal stand as a tribute.
.
We embark on a tour of the salt museum, Museo de la Sal “Ichi” (meaning “salt” in the Wayúu language, Wayuunaiki). As we step past the entrance, we are greeted by two radiant golden statues, shimmering under the midday sun. One statue portrays a man diligently shoveling salt from the flats, while a few feet ahead, a woman carries an arduous load of salt on her back, with the handle affixed around her forehead.
A nearby plaque, inscribed in Spanish, explains that these statues pay tribute to the families from the “magical Guajira” who were drawn to the economic benefits derived from artisanal production of sea-salt crystals. The sculptures depict the process of cutting salt flats, transforming them into crystals, piling them up, and eventually filling sacks carried by women. They serve as a homage to the “continuous ritual at dawn and dusk.”
Moving to the side of the museum’s building, we observe a mural illustrating the laborious task of salt extraction as practiced by the Wayúu for centuries. On the left side of the painting, men scoop salt from a pile using handmade bowls and deposit it into an upside-down turtle shell, which is then pulled to its destination using a fibrous rope. Women, their faces concealed under dark-brown masks made from mushroom spores and goat fat (still used today for sunscreen and ceremonial makeup), carry heavy loads of salt on their backs.
On the far right, the mural portrays the modern techniques of salt extraction, involving the use of shovels, picks, and wheelbarrows. For the Wayúu, the introduction of wheelbarrows for transporting salt was akin to transitioning from walking to using a car.
Afterward, our group ventures across the street to reach the beach known as Ipatu’u or Piedras Blancas, meaning “White Stone Beach.” According to mystical Wayúu legend, in ancient times, sea turtles that came ashore were unable to return to the water before sunset, turning them into stone. This legend explains the presence of the white-sand beach before us. Colorful fishing boats gently sway at the shore, while a set of green beach chairs and matching umbrellas invite us to relax.
We indulge in an iced cocktail called Mitologico or “mythological,” made with passion fruit juice and indigenous liquor rimmed with salt and pepper. Our Wayúu guide, Gertrudis Maria, translates the name for us as Pinto explains, “This place is completely constructed using materials found in the land.” He gestures toward the open-air structure beneath which we sit, highlighting features such as the roof made from the heart of a cactus called “yotojoro” and the walls and fences crafted from the trupillo tree, endemic to several Central and South American countries.
Meanwhile, at Rancheria Utta, Wayúu women skillfully weave their renowned mochila bags, showcasing their legendary craftsmanship.
Gertrudis Maria = continues to share insights, drawing our attention to one of the vibrant mochila bags in our midst. These colorful woven bags are a ubiquitous presence throughout Colombia. Crafted by hand using wool, cotton, and various fibers, they are intricately woven. It is a skill passed down exclusively by women, who also create bags, hammocks, and other exquisite handmade items. According to tradition, it is the spider, known as Wale’ Kerü, that taught the Wayúu people the art of weaving.
The process of learning to weave begins for girls after their first menstruation. They enter a period of “confinement” where they are isolated with female relatives. During this time, they receive instruction on weaving, crocheting, cooking, and assuming leadership roles within the matriarchal community.
“They dedicate this time to learning the art of handmade crafts, cooking, and food preparation,” explains Pinto. While traditional confinements would last a year or more, modern-day practices have adapted due to the Wayúu children attending school. “Once they emerge from confinement, they are considered women and are ready for marriage.”
The Wayúu people believe that El Pilón de Azúcar (Sugar Pylon) is the final place a soul visits before embarking on its journey to the afterlife.
Gertrudis Maria concludes the tour by enlightening us about the Wayúu beliefs surrounding the afterlife.
“They refer to all these mountains as Jepirra,” Pinto translates, “a sacred and holy place for the indigenous people. According to the Wayúu, when they pass away, regardless of their location, their souls embark on a journey to this place, to transition into another life.”
The following morning, our group sets out for that very location—a hill known as El Pilón de Azúcar (Sugar Pylon), referred to as Kama’aichi in Wayuunaiki. It stands as one of the region’s most renowned tourist attractions and is believed by the tribe to be the final destination visited by a soul before joining their ancestors in the afterlife.
After a mildly steep, 15-minute hike along a gravelly dirt path, we reach the summit, where an altar dedicated to the Virgin of Fatima awaits. This altar pays homage to the Portuguese town of Fátima, known for the miraculous apparition of the Blessed Virgin to three young shepherds in 1917. As we stand on the rocky outcrop, bracing against the gusty winds, we are greeted with breathtaking vistas of the turquoise seas. If this were to be my last view before entering the afterlife, I silently contemplate, I would depart this world in absolute contentment.