Battling the Bizarre Bugs of the Sacred Valley

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Travel Log
February 26, Minca, Colombia

Minca, “the Sacred Valley”. Or more so, the valley swarming with mutant insects. They don't just fly around; they dive-bomb your head, entangling themselves in your hair while shrieking like the siren of a New York ambulance. They spare the locals of course, giving them a nod like, "You're cool; this is just for the gringos." It's like Minca's own initiation ritual.

I slept in a hammock on an eco-hostel's roof terrace for a few days. Despite the lush setting and incredible views, I won’t repeat the experience. Massive creatures enjoyed plunging onto my mosquito net, only to die in a painful buzz, their velvety bodies going full-on contortionist. Their spasms quickly faded, leaving behind only exhausted husks a few inches from my face. They were so big I feared the mosquito net would split open. I was terrified. It was nothing short of a horror movie.

Luckily, there was an indigenous village in the valley below, providing a fascinating distraction to soothe my sleepless nights.

It had four humble huts, and a lawn worthy of a luxury golf course. Each hut had its own garden of radiant flowers—an elegant oasis hidden amid the thickets and lush pines of the valley.

Now and then, I’d spot one of them emerging from their hut, dressed in white tunics that beautifully contrasted with their long, black locks and caramel complexion. I could imagine their almond-shaped eyes and serene gazes, finding happiness in the simplicity of their daily grind surrounded by nature.

I longed to meet them. But it was forbidden, they said.



Read this short travel story in French↗