Cartagena has indeed been as ‘bonita’ as I expected. This walled city by the sea (it was heavily fortified by the Spanish in the 16th century to protect their rich new discovery from pirates), with its criss-cross of cobbled streets, and palm-tree fringed confines, is indeed like a faraway and magical world of its own. Basking in the sun, it’s a warm place in every sense of the word, with its pretty edifices ranging from egg-yolk yellow to sunset orange to cadmium red in colour. The bustling street-life within the city’s walls also seems to heat up its atmosphere around the clock – be it early in the morning as vendors with wheelie-carts hawk ‘arepas’ and coffee to hungry workers, or come dusk, as horse drawn carts clatter down the narrow passageways and round the plazas, and the city gets ready to ‘rumba’ its way into the night.
It’s totally different to Bogota here, and it’s almost hard to believe I’m in the same country. Firstly, the climate has changed (it’s back to hot and sticky, alas, but the warm wind carrying in from the sea helps to make it feel a little fresher). Secondly, the population seems to have altered too. Cartagena is up on the Caribbean coast and most of the people here are Afro-Colombian (being descended from the African slaves bought in when the country was colonised). However, there are some curious regional/genetic variations, and I’ve seen a lot of blue and green eyes here, as I have blond, yet characteristically, Afro hair. It’s a very striking combination with the ‘café con leche’ skin and broad smiles that most of the ‘costenos’ (people from the coast) round here seem to have.
I arrived on Thursday afternoon and found a room in a nice little guesthouse with a yellow-tiled courtyard, and some replica Boteros hanging on the wall. My number one choice hostel (‘Casa Viena’ – a place I’d heard good things about through the traveller’s grapevine) was unfortunately fully booked, but this place, ‘Hostal La Casona’, is just round the corner and seems fine and pretty reasonable. It’s in Getsemani – actually outside the city walls, and dubbed a slightly dodgy and dangerous area by my ‘Rough Guide’. However, I’m beginning to feel that my 2004 Rough Guide to South America is a perhaps a wee bit dated, po-faced, and reactionary, as it’s really quite fun and characterful around here. Although you wouldn’t be wise to walk around Getsemani with your finest jewels on, or with an expensive camera hanging round your neck, it’s where a lot of the action seems to unfold as night falls. Rambling and bumbling old men in grubby vests chat up plump and extravagantly made up ladies on motorbikes, lotto vendors (lotto is another Latin American fixation) warble away to try to sell their tickets, and saloon-style bar room doors swing open to the sound of ‘son’ and ‘cumbia’. It’s lively part of town here to say the least.
Having been told that the best way to ‘do’ Cartagena is just to allow yourself to get lost in the walled city streets, that’s what I did on Thursday afternoon, taking pictures and ambling down alleyways. I stopped at the ‘Portal Del Dulces’ where aproned women sell sumptuous sweets, and bought myself a little piece of ‘Leche De Coco’ – a delicious kind of coconut ice that’s creamier, and made with more coarsely grated coconut, than the stuff we get back home. Almost as sweet as the delicacy itself, though, was the sight of the sweet-vending ladies being romanced by the men who ride the horse-drawn carts around the city. These horses are apparently called ‘huelepedos’, or ‘farties’ by the people of Cartagena, so obviously the folk around here have a sense of humour (and the horses flatulence!)!
I went on to buy myself a ticket for a boat trip to the Islas Del Rosario, as I had heard that these islands were tranquil and idyllic, and a good place to enjoy white sand beaches away from the touristy Bocagrande area (a couple of kilometres down the coastline from the old city, this is a rather ugly and overdeveloped part of Cartagena). I set off on the all day trip early yesterday morning and, after a rather choppy 2 ½ hour ride, I made it to the island resort of ‘Coco Liso’. The Islas Del Rosario are actually a collection of many small islands, some 40 kilometres or so from Cartagena. Our initial plan was to visit a couple of them and to go to a beach called ‘Playa Blanca’. However, I was told that due to the ‘security situation’ this would no longer be possible, and that we’d have to stay at the one resort. I later found out that Colombian president, Alvaro Uribe, and notorious Venezuelan president, Hugo Chavez, are having some kind of meeting on one of the islands today, so that explains why certain areas were off bounds.
It was a shame not to see more of the islands, but actually spending a day at plush ‘Coco Liso’ suited me fine. I swam both in the sea, and in their pool, read my book in a hammock, and had a decent inclusive lunch of fish, coconut rice and patacones (which I actually really like now). It was very relaxing and good entertainment in terms of people-watching as well. Cartagena and the Islas seem to be where Colombia’s wealthier folk come to holiday, and there were lots of older pot-bellied men with cigars and expensive watches, accompanied by dubiously young female companions with unnaturally big round boobs and designer shades!
It was fairly late when I got back to Cartagena, but I had sufficient time to visit the ‘Museo De Oro’ (I didn’t get round to visiting the famous gold museum in Bogota so this gave me some useful insight into Colombia’s gold-rich past - and there was some very lovely, if somewhat rudimentary old gold jewellery on display). I then had to spend a bit of time on the internet, and at the nearby ‘Casa Viena’, making plans for the next stages of my trip. Information on bus travel doesn’t seem to be as easy to come by here as it has been in other countries (due to security concerns a lot of Colombia’s middle-classes still don’t seem to like to travel by bus – although I have been told the risks are somewhat over-exaggerated). However, in the end, I managed to buy a ticket for a mini-bus to take me on to Taganga today – and that will be my base for a couple of days while I hopefully explore the jungly ‘Parque Nacional Tayrona’. Then it will be on to Venezuela where I have made some Couchsurfing contacts, and where I have a loose itinerary in place to get me through to Brazil. This is where I hope to start my river journey down the Amazon from Manaus on the 4th or 5th February. Looking at the map, with a sort of trepidation, though, I realise how much land I have to cover to get down to Rio in time for Carneval, as is my intention. It’s almost as much again as I have covered so far coming down from Mexico, and I’m over the half-way mark in terms of my travelling time now. I reckon I can do it, however – I’ll just have to brace myself for some more long bus journeys and make sure I have plenty of good books in tow.
So, yes, I’m over 3 ½ months in now, which feels very odd, and I’m sad to think that I have less time ahead of me now in South America than the time from when I started my travels up until now (this is the kind of mathematics I kill time on long bus journeys by working out – along with the exchange rates for crazy currencies like Colombian pesos, which are 2,200 to US 1$!). Goodness only knows what I am going to do with myself when I get back to a life that literally and figuratively feels so far away. Of course, it will be wonderful in so many senses to see certain people again, to have a fixed base, and to not have to engage my brain in so much planning with regards to transport and accommodation etc. However, I know I will feel strangely dislocated and mournful for this wandering, transient, and somewhat fanciful life that I have been leading. I also know I will have plenty of other things, besides the usual backpackers concerns, to plan and make arrangements for when I’m back home – like what to do with my work, and basically with my life in general. I know my employers are holding my job open for me, and that that should be seen as a good thing in the so called ‘current economic climate’. However, the truth is I really can’t see myself returning to that particular organisation – I’ve done my time there, don’t think the management-focused career ladder is for me (I’m not really a leader – a teacher, observer, or ‘helper’ maybe, but that’s it), and can just think of nothing more unbearable than going back on myself, or getting stuck in a position that I don’t want to be in anymore. So it might be a bit more waitressing and scrimping and saving as I look for something else more permanent and forward-focused when I get back. Of course, I want to get back to the bereavement service and perhaps find another counselling placement to help me add to my counselling hours. I don’t think I’m qualified or experienced enough to get any paid work in that field yet, though, so it will be a few more years of fitting volunteering in around more lucrative stuff until I hopefully get my BACP qualification.
On a more positive note, I might be getting paid for some of the Viva hotel and restaurant reviews that I have submitted while on the road. I’ve been told I may have to wait a while for the payment to be processed, and I haven’t been given a definite figure as to what they are going to pay me per review. It’s something to look forward to, though, and I ask myself what I will spend my first pay-check on… Maybe a round of rum and coke for whoever I’m hanging out with that night, or a slap-up-meal of, er, rice and beans (actually, I shouldn’t be disparaging as I’m enjoying Colombian cuisine – as well as the coconutty Caribbean dishes, the highlander fare of ‘arepas’, or spongy maize pancakes, and ‘ajaica’, a thick chicken soup with capers, sour cream and potato, was really good)?! If I did want to splash out on a good time (or actually not ‘splash out’ as it is so comparatively cheap and readily available here), I have to say that there is plenty of Colombia’s most famous export on offer (and I guess you can guess I’m not talking about coffee). However (parents, you will be relieved to know), I don’t want to spend the remainder of my travelling time rotting in a Colombian jail so I will ‘just say no’...
OK, I think that’s all for today – I hope you enjoy the pictures of Cartagena, and thank you for indulging my ponderings about my future.
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