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Vintage Colombian

red rider

Well-known member
ICMag Donor
Veteran
More green

More green

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Here’s a few more shots of the green now turning purple. By this stage I was in love with this plant, she was so hardy and resilient.


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Her colitas had a very distinct form and Cinderella thing going on with an explosion of colors and smells. It’s really anyone’s guess where this plant originated from, I could see India or Africa even Jamaica.


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It was most defiantly a NLD in both structure and effect. A wonderful exotic plant even here.


red
 

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Mustafunk

Brand new oldschool
Veteran
Great pictures as always. I really loved those magenta colombians, with that beautiful color under the leaves. They really reminded me to some purple Jamaican Lambsbreads that acquired the same colours in the stems and leaf underside. So the Caribbean origin for Colombians definitely rings a bell here.

Mustafunk your theory, interesting but missing some history. The spread of southern Asia and Indian subcontinent landrace cannabis strains into Caribbean and mexico was not the the Spanish but rather the British.

You mean the indians not the british, isn't it? So why missing some history? I know about the coolies in the West Indies and british colonies. In fact I've researched a bit on the Indian and Gujarat diaspora and both the British and the Portuguese colonialism in America in order to have a better understanding of the introduction of cannabis in Caribbean/America and Africa. The Indian theories are obviously very feasible and the most simplified ones (Ockham's Razor can work sometimes I guess), just like the theory about african slaves introducing angolese liamba in the portuguese colonies of America (Brazil). But that doesn't make them universal truths. At least while no proven evidencies are found like in the case of the clay pipes found in Lalibela caves in Ethiopia for example (Van Der Merwe 1975).

And things in Mexico aren't that clear anyway. Even R. Clarke states this in his latest book when he says that Mexico genetics could have been introduced from the Caribbean and mixed with the European Hemp plants that already existed in North America. And believe me the chapter on Mexican cannabis origins was one of the most information lacking ones in such book. So it seems this still remains a bit misterious yet.

Of course as a researcher too, mine is just a simple hyphothesis based on what I've found out but if alive SE Asian mango plants were took to Mexico by the spaniards (during more than 2 centuries of trade with Asia happening at the time, much before the first indians even arrived to West Indies) and indeed there there is a philippino heritage from that time, why not ganja too? That's how the first guys like Ernest Abel or Du Toit brought their theories on cannabis dispersion. I never said it may have been the only origin or source though, but another contribution to the diverse mexican cannabis genepool maybe. I guess we need to study the similarities between Mexican and Caribbean strains. But Cannabis arrived to Brazil and Mexico much before than it did to Colombia or Panama (post-colonial slavery). So maybe it was the other way around and Colombian is indeed the newest genepool of American landraces? Hard to know, maybe with the upcoming DNA researches...

Anyway, the Spanish were sailing around the area centuries before James Cook even reached Hawaii. The Manilla trade route happened much before the indian coolies arrived to the Caribbean. And in 1800 there was people already smoking cannabis in Mexico. So either it must have came super fast if it came from the West Indies, or either they were smoking hemp! :biggrin:

The Manila Galleons were Spanish trading ships that made round-trip sailing voyages once or twice per year across the Pacific Ocean from the port of Acapulco in New Spain (present-day Mexico) to Manila in the Spanish East Indies (present day-Philippines). The name of the galleon changed reflecting the city that the ship was sailing from.[1] The term Manila Galleons is also used to refer to the trade route between Acapulco and Manila, which lasted from 1565 to 1815.The Manila-Acapulco galleon trade finally began when Spanish navigators Alonso de Arellano and Andrés de Urdaneta discovered the eastward return route in 1565. Reaching the west coast of North America, Urdaneta's ship the San Pedro hit the coast near Cape Mendocino, California, then followed the coast south to San Blas and later to Acapulco, arriving on October 8, 1565.

Over 36,000 Indians were taken to Jamaica as indentured workers between 1845 and 1917, with around two thirds of them remaining on the island. The demand for their labour came after the end of slavery in 1830 and the failure to attract workers from Europe. Indian workers were actually paid less than the former West African slaves and were firmly at the bottom on the social ladder. The legacy of these social divisions was to linger for many decades. The first ship carrying workers from India, the "Maidstone", landed at Old Harbour Bay in1845. It bore 200 men, 28 women under 30 years old and 33 children under 12 years old from various towns and villages in Northern India. [...] Indian indentureship ended in 1917 to the Caribbean (Jamaica, Trinidad, St. Vincent, St. Lucia, Grenada, St. Kitts, St. Croix, Guadeloupe, Martinique, British Guiana (now Guyana), Dutch Guiana (now Surinam, French Guiana and Belize).

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Indian labourers at Spring Garden Buildings. Jamaica, 1880.
 
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LostTribe

Well-known member
Premium user
Ok so my buddy called me before the game last night, saying that I had to come see what he had. I had just obtained some from him Saturday so I really didn’t have the donation for another sample. But he persisted and I went on to get this fine pure Colombian gold.


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It’s grown in the high mountains west of Bogota going to Manizales and according to my Colombian operative it had never been touched by outside genes. The truthfulness in this statement is questionable since I had earlier requested samples of pure heritage. However the sample speaks for itself and I can tell you this is very high quality Colombian, and a perfect representation of Gold. The look is absolutely classic gourmet Colombian, small little plump bud covered in a visible golden “fur”.


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The smell is soft but unmistakable, a spicy sweet fragrance that is enticingly pleasant. The taste and burnt smell is strong and pronounced, reminiscent of church incense and blond Lebanese hashish. Its spicy sweet taste and fragrance linger after burning and set a reminiscent tone. The smoke expands but it really doesn’t cause a lot of coughing and onset is pretty quick. A very bright, reliving sensation starts flowing though mind and body right away and is followed with euphoria. Laughing starts about 15 minutes in even in less than funny situations and I find even small doses will bring this effect.


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After about 45 minutes things calm down and I re-up if necessary. It is very clean but too euphoric for clarity and deep thinking also not nearly as potent as the sample obtained earlier in the week. Anyway I’ve got my Colombian buddy looking in the right direction.

looks alot like the peruvian buds I have tasted down in Lima and Cuzco. Trich'd out most of the time and peppery taste for sure.
 
B

Bob Green

Ssseeewww looks like the Colombian buds are not the only sticky in these parts?

Congrats man!
 

red rider

Well-known member
ICMag Donor
Veteran
Sweet spot

Sweet spot

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Finca 1


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This finca is still an option but we keep having delays getting seed in the soil. I can't wait to fill this hill with the plants!


red


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Sforza

Member
Veteran
I love this thread. It brings back a lot of good memories of my time in Colombia.

I first went down to Colombia in about 1975. I had spent a lot of time in Jamaica but I was told that I should try Colombia, Santa Marta specifically, to get to the source of the Santa Marta Gold.
My buddy and I flew into Barranquilla from Miami. As soon as we cleared Customs, there was a hanger on who attached himself to us and starting asking us where we were going to stay. We knew nothing about Colombia, other than we wanted to get to Santa Marta, so instead of chasing the fellow off, we told him that we were looking to spend the night in a cheap hotel and catch a bus to Santa Marta the next morning.
Our new friend got us set up in a cheap and seedy hotel. In subsequent visits, I always enjoyed staying at the stately El Prado hotel, but this first night was just a cheap little dive. Our guide waited while we stashed our bags in the clean but spare room and asked us what we wanted to do next. Drugs we replied. So off we went to the local Farmacia. We purchased a variety of pills, including some reds and some valium, as I recall. We were used to buying Mandrax at the pharmacies in Savana-la-Mar, Jamaica, but I don’t think we were able to buy either Quaaludes or Mandrax at that Farmacia.
We popped some pills and did some walking and eventually arrived at a bar/whorehouse. For a few bucks, our guide/pimp obtained some good strong buds wrapped in little balls of brown paper. We drank and danced with the girls and had sex, but due to probably the valium, which my buddy called “forget me nots” since it was always hard to remember what happened after you took them, my memories of that night are similar to the way a drug high is depicted in a bad movie, flashes of disconnected memories- a pretty face, another round of drinks, pissing against a tiled wall instead of in an urinal, an unmade bed, lots of laughing and shouting, and finally a long stagger back to the hotel. I have to hand it to our guide. He took care of us. We spent some money at the bar, but not too much, we did not get rolled or robbed and in the condition we were in at the end of the night, we were ripe for the picking. We paid him his fee and went to our hotel room.
The walk had sobered us up a bit and the pills had worn off over the course of the night, so before we went to sleep for the night, we used some of the brown paper the ganja was wrapped in to roll up a little spliff. We smoked it in the room, which had vents out to the courtyard inside the hotel, but no one complained since it was late and all was quiet. We were fascinated by the Colombian matches, which were small and could be struck anywhere to light, even though they did not have a separate tip. I wish I could get some of those good little matches.
The next morning, we asked the front desk where to catch a bus to Santa Marta and were directed to a terminal within easy walking distance. Once on the bus, we sat in the back and watched the scenery roll by. There is an interesting area between Barranquilla and Santa Marta where the people live on rafts and get around by canoe. On this trip, I don’t recall stopping at any security checkpoints, although I was stopped on other trips.
As everyone knows, the best cure for a hangover is a joint, so right there on the bus, we dug out the ganja and rolled up a fatty and smoked it on the bus. Obviously, the other people on the bus must of thought we were mad, but no one said anything and we smoked it down to the nub.
It turned out that the bus was going to Rodadero, instead of Santa Marta. Santa Marta is just over the hill from Rodadero. I found out just how far it is one Christmas night, when I partied too late in Rodadero and when I tried to catch a cab back to my hotel room in Santa Marta, found that there were none available. So I walked the entire way.

Rodadero is a tourist beach town. A hanger on approached us soon after we got off the bus and directed us to a nice modern high rise hotel, which again was relatively cheap. Our new friend also offered to bring us some Santa Marta Gold. We were suspicious and a bit paranoid, but we came to party, so we negotiated the deal. For a pittance, he brought us a large bag of bright yellow buds that we could not smoke in a month of trying. After smoking a jay and being delighted with the quality, the next order of business was to see what the local Farmacia had in the way of wares. It turns out that this guy had very little, except for some little glass vials of morphine, which we purchased along with some syringes.
After some time checking out the local bars, we ran into a guy who sold us some cheap and strong cocaine. So it was back to the hotel room to try my first and only speedball, a mixture of morphine and coke. It was quite a rush. Given the combined effects of the two drugs, I didn’t know whether to shit or vomit first.
After the edge wore off the high, we went out to the street, found a couple of hookers, and returned to our room to party. Given the high, I was able to screw the very pretty young girl, but I was not able to come. Unfortunately, after an hour or so of steady pumping the hooker had enough and wanted to get paid and get about her business. Since I did not finish, I refused to pay her. I headed out to the street to find another hooker in order to get my rocks off, but before I found another girl, the first girl had gone and got the cops. The cops explained to me that I was either going to pay the girl for her time or go to jail. Given those two options, I paid the girl. Meanwhile it had gotten late and I didn’t manage to find a woman that night. But the next day in Santa Marta I did notice three blond gringas who turned out to be from Montreal. But that is another story. This story was just about my first 24 hours in Colombia.

https://www.icmag.com/ic/picture.php?albumid=41423&pictureid=979638

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red rider

Well-known member
ICMag Donor
Veteran
About security in Colombia NOW

About security in Colombia NOW

Colombia was a very dangerous country and not safe for visitors. That was the past and now Colombia is as secure as any place in the world. I live and work here every day and have been for years, I’ve traveled alone all over the country and outside of a few incidences I have never had a problem. I’ve been very lucky and only saw the bright side of the country and its beautiful people. In the cities you have to use “street” sense and don’t be stupid and you will have no problems even in bad neighborhoods. In the country outside the big cities I have NEVER felt threated or insecure. In fact I feel the opposite in the country feeling very safe and secure. Just like anywhere else if you give genuine respect you will be returned with it. Colombians in general are super friendly to foreigners and really cool beautiful people that are misunderstood. Colombian women are truly a gift to man as they are incredible warm and loving, so easy to fall in love with. Even if not for the weed I highly recommend Colombia to all looking for the beautiful life.
 

red rider

Well-known member
ICMag Donor
Veteran
On the way to Tolima

On the way to Tolima

Micro climate heaven just to the south of the capital.

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Cool driver, a little crazy with the speed on the twisty mountain roads but we made it home safely.


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In 2011 I took a day trip to Tolima and had a great time just scouting the area for finca’s.


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Rich red soil in high altitude valley


Deep in the center of Colombia going right down the back of the Andes.


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The climate is a year round paradise with bright sunny days and cool air temps.


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Quaint little hamlets dot the way through twisty mountain roads. The people are friendly but timid and are very excited to meet travelers.


red
 

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Sforza

Member
Veteran
Colombian women are truly a gift to man as they are incredible warm and loving, so easy to fall in love with.

The Colombian women are beautiful and very sexy too. They were as attracted to a tall blond blue-eyed Gringo as this Gringo was to their fine features, dusky complexion, straight black hair, and sloe-eyed beauty.

I soon learned what Estás casado meant, since they asked that question early in every introductory conversation.

Colombia may be safe, but I find it hard to believe that they have forgone their thieving ways. They put Jamaicans to shame with their ability to steal everything not nailed down.

And it was not just Gringos they stole from. The house I stayed at in Taganga on one trip had broken glass embedded in concrete on top of all the walls surrounding the house and garden.

With all the flies on the food and with raw sewage running down the middle of the dirt roads in Taganga, I came down with something that was damn near fatal.

I had two hammocks. One I strung up in the house and the other I strung up under an orange tree in the back yard. I would lay in the hammock in the house, shivering, coughing, sweating, and feeling miserable, until the sun got up in the sky high enough so that the house became too hot to bear. Then I would reluctantly drag myself out of the hammock in the house and to the hammock under the orange tree.

I would lay in the hammock under the orange tree, watching the leaf cutter ants marching with their outsized burdens raised over their heads all day, until the evening chill drove my into the house.

Even with the broken glass on top of the walls surrounding the back garden, eventually the outside hammock disappeared. I kept up the same routine as before, but I had to take down and move the hammock with each trip back and forth.

I was very weak and did not eat anything for ten days. On the eleventh day I reached up into the orange tree and ate one orange. The next day, I ate two oranges. The next day I ate four oranges.

I was still weak, but I was getting stronger. After being so sick for two weeks, I finally made up my mind to get to Santa Marta. I had not washed for two weeks, so I had to wash myself and my hair in a plastic basin of water. I also shaved.

To keep from being robbed penniless by my neighbors, I had buried a fifty dollar bill in the sand when I first became ill. I dug the bill up and headed out to catch the bus to town. I wanted to get to a Chinese restaurant I knew and have a big plate of chicken and stir fired vegetables. First I had to change my US fifty at the bank for Colombian bills.

The bank looked at my last fifty dollars and declared that it was too dry and brittle from being buried and they would not change it to pesos. I was screwed.

Luckily, not far from the bank I ran into a couple of gringos who I knew. I told them my predicament and they quickly offered to do the exchange giving me pesos for my American bill.

Flush with pesos, I had a fine meal at the Chinese place. Then I walked to a hotel that I had stayed at on previous trips and enjoyed sleeping in a bed in a room with air conditioning. After two weeks of sleeping bent like a banana, it was great to be able to stretch out and sleep under some sheets.

I don't know what illness I had. I do know that for months afterwards I would get spells of alternating chills and sweats. For years afterwards I would suffer from night sweats. Eventually, that all went away and I no longer have any noticeable symptoms.
 

bombadil.360

Andinismo Hierbatero
Veteran
Pills, morphine, cocaine and hookers in the mid 70s in Colombia and it seems you complain about thieves, higuene and health...what did you expect?

In Bogota I can move from estrato 1 to 6 and not get robbed or sick, what is wrong with you boy? lol...
 

red rider

Well-known member
ICMag Donor
Veteran
Gringo = go home

Gringo = go home

The Colombian women are beautiful and very sexy too. They were as attracted to a tall blond blue-eyed Gringo as this Gringo was to their fine features, dusky complexion, straight black hair, and sloe-eyed beauty.

I soon learned what Estás casado meant, since they asked that question early in every introductory conversation.

Colombia may be safe, but I find it hard to believe that they have forgone their thieving ways. They put Jamaicans to shame with their ability to steal everything not nailed down.

And it was not just Gringos they stole from. The house I stayed at in Taganga on one trip had broken glass embedded in concrete on top of all the walls surrounding the house and garden.

With all the flies on the food and with raw sewage running down the middle of the dirt roads in Taganga, I came down with something that was damn near fatal.

I had two hammocks. One I strung up in the house and the other I strung up under an orange tree in the back yard. I would lay in the hammock in the house, shivering, coughing, sweating, and feeling miserable, until the sun got up in the sky high enough so that the house became too hot to bear. Then I would reluctantly drag myself out of the hammock in the house and to the hammock under the orange tree.

I would lay in the hammock under the orange tree, watching the leaf cutter ants marching with their outsized burdens raised over their heads all day, until the evening chill drove my into the house.

Even with the broken glass on top of the walls surrounding the back garden, eventually the outside hammock disappeared. I kept up the same routine as before, but I had to take down and move the hammock with each trip back and forth.

I was very weak and did not eat anything for ten days. On the eleventh day I reached up into the orange tree and ate one orange. The next day, I ate two oranges. The next day I ate four oranges.

I was still weak, but I was getting stronger. After being so sick for two weeks, I finally made up my mind to get to Santa Marta. I had not washed for two weeks, so I had to wash myself and my hair in a plastic basin of water. I also shaved.

To keep from being robbed penniless by my neighbors, I had buried a fifty dollar bill in the sand when I first became ill. I dug the bill up and headed out to catch the bus to town. I wanted to get to a Chinese restaurant I knew and have a big plate of chicken and stir fired vegetables. First I had to change my US fifty at the bank for Colombian bills.

The bank looked at my last fifty dollars and declared that it was too dry and brittle from being buried and they would not change it to pesos. I was screwed.

Luckily, not far from the bank I ran into a couple of gringos who I knew. I told them my predicament and they quickly offered to do the exchange giving me pesos for my American bill.

Flush with pesos, I had a fine meal at the Chinese place. Then I walked to a hotel that I had stayed at on previous trips and enjoyed sleeping in a bed in a room with air conditioning. After two weeks of sleeping bent like a banana, it was great to be able to stretch out and sleep under some sheets.

I don't know what illness I had. I do know that for months afterwards I would get spells of alternating chills and sweats. For years afterwards I would suffer from night sweats. Eventually, that all went away and I no longer have any noticeable symptoms.

Wow that’s quite a tale and you’re lucky to be able to tell it. Most blond haired blued eyed gringo whore mongering drug addicts get kidnapped or simply murdered out of stupidity. You’re a lucky guy. Which leads me to say anyone coming to Colombia for hard drugs or prostitutes is putting themselves in severe danger. I strongly advise NOT doing this, if you’re looking for trouble you will meet it here. Colombian cities have huge “red zones” and the people that work there live to find some drunk gringo to roll or worse. Colombian people don’t want this “type of tourism” and neither do I as it looks bad on all foreigners in the country. Fair warning.
A prostitute is a prostitute, beautiful Colombian women are NOT prostitutes and having a business exchange with one is not experiencing Colombian women.
I don’t know how it was in the 70s but now in Colombia you can NOT buy prescription drugs without a verifiable doctor’s prescription. The same drugs that are controlled substances in the USA are here as well. Unlike Mexico you can’t walk into a pharmacy and buy Xanax or valium much less morphine. Maybe in the seventies you could but now forget it.
There are a few foreigners I see coming through Bogota, mostly young men from Europe or the USA. I call them “back packers” and they are very obvious to everyone. They always end up in the red zone.
Bottom line if you want to do speedballs and have sex with prostitutes stay home or go somewhere else. You are not welcome here and the worst can be expected if you do if you do come. Colombia is NOT safe for drunken drug addicted whore mongers.
 
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pinkus

Well-known member
Veteran
LOL you tell him. Judgmental gringo junky. BTW if you don't think broken bottles on the top of a wall is common deterrent in poorer countries you haven't spent any time there. :bandit:

Also, an american bill won't become brittle and dry from being buried. Go home and try another version. You either are exaggerating or completely FOS.
 

wildgrow

, The Ghost of
Veteran
Not just poorer countries. One of my local churches has a low stone and mortar wall imbedded with broken glass.
 

red rider

Well-known member
ICMag Donor
Veteran
Peace & happines

Peace & happines

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That was a good story Sforza and I don’t doubt its authenticity but I really try to discourage this type of thinking about Colombia (and in general). Like many places on the planet there are some really bad things going on, evils of unspeakable deeds and unfortunately Colombia is one of them. But this reputation of being a dangerous filthy country filled with thieves and whores is brought on by foreigners asking for it. If you meet the good people of Colombia with honest and sincere intentions you will have this returned to you 10 fold. But if you come here looking for the dark side of things you will get them 10 fold.


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Santa Marta Beach 2


I personally have no use for prostitutes or hard drugs because I get more than high enough just from a little bud and you don’t need much charm or good looks to have a romantic relationship with a beautiful Colombian woman. I invite everyone that can to come to this country and see just how beautiful it is but please don’t come here looking for trouble, be respectful.


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More of the beach


No hard feelings, I have nothing against having the best time but we must be very careful doing that.


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Santa Marta

Here’s when I was in Santa Marta, I found the city to be very clean and organized. The beach is much nicer than Cartagena and not so many vendors. I partied there but just a little since I had a girlfriend and was enjoying time with her more than anything.


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Coastal wasteland between Barranquilla and Santa Marta


red
 

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Lester Beans

Frequent Flyer
Veteran
That takes balls, doing speed balls, I don't know what the high is like and I'm all set. I'll stick to weed and beer lol.

Great thread and stories!

Love the pics! Looks beautiful there!
 

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