After our graffiti tour in Bogota, we took a bus to the airport for our quick and cheap flight North to Cartagena. Stepping off the plane into the open-air exit, we were swamped with humidity and heat searing through our layers of merino wool that had served us so well until this moment. It was the perfect sign that we were now entering a new chapter of our adventure! We took a cab to our hostel, and already my heart started to flutter. The sun had set, yet light was plentiful to highlight the street activity, communicating instantly that, by no means, does Cartagena sleep at sundown.
The street of our hostel had locals outside their colorful homes in chairs, some playing music more reminiscent of Miami than Mexico. Street vendors were plentiful, and the air was begging me to introduce the dress I had so far only worn with leggings. Here we felt safe, and we confirmed with the manager that it was safe to walk around. Rejoicing in our best effort at warm weather attire, we set out, enveloped in the humidity and outpour of culture with every block we discovered.
Eve
ry block was a party. Every building had it’s own color and character, some magnificent and well-kept in a way we had only seen from government buildings thus far. We saw statues and clock towers, and gravitated toward an arch to see what was beyond. We never could have imagined what we discovered next. Behind this arch was a walled city; a massive maze of quaint streets, buildings, businesses, churches, restaurants, shops, and homes. Colorful, beautiful, and intriguing, and for some reason, very difficult to capture by photograph. It felt magical, special and secretive, even though it was bustling door to door with tourists and locals alike.
I didn’t realize that the “Old Town,” where our guide book recommended we spend time, was actually this entire section of Cartegena. You could walk end to end in twenty minutes, but there’s so much to see and the grid of streets was so deep that we happily got lost for a couple hours, entranced in the energy and beauty. Music, food, street vendors that weren’t obnoxious, artistic buildings, and the coolest pub and restaurant I’ve ever seen all were found within these walls. Still hot and humid as ever, it just added to the new experience of Cartagena, Columbia- everything I’d been craving to feel.
The next day, we walked around the city three separate times, one of them meeting up with Aedra, a gal we met at our Bogota hostel who also made her way to Cartagena on the same timeline. The following day, we planned to do an island trip to Playa Blanca for snorkeling, which ended up being pushed a day due to a laziness that breezed away the urgency to plan for the morning excursion. While geography has never been my strong point, I had no idea that Columbia had a Caribbean Coast, so this opportunity to see and enjoy some of the most beautiful beaches I’ve seen is an exciting surprise!
Our hostel had a pet Tucan!
Instead, we walked to the local beach, whose water was so delightfully warm! We walked through town looking for a store that could supply a replacement camping mattress for one I lost ($120) to no avail. Instead, we bought ice cream from a new favorite spot and enjoyed the challenge of savoring it at rapid speed while the hot weather effortlessly melted it. The following day, we woke up at 6:30am to set out to negotiate transportation to Playa Blanca and the Rosario Islands for some snorkeling. After confusing discussion and a walk back to our hostel for more money, we secured our boat tour ticket and finally embarked for a promised paradise around 9am.
When we got to our first destination, Rosario Island, we were ready to snorkel. Paying one fee for the boat tour and a second for “snorkel gear,” we watched as others paid to get their snorkel gear. Once it was our turned and I stated in Spanish that we already paid (I even wrote down the price breakdown to confirm with the man who sold us the tour), I was informed that this extra fee was a national park entrance fee (used only to snorkel) and it would be an additional 50 Columbian pesos to snorkel. Minding the rules of not bringing anything valuable to the beach, we had only brought enough to cover expected expenses with a small extra allowance.
Watching everyone else get in the water was like watching the only reason we did this tour get farther away. I had even asked a crew member before leaving if I needed something else to prove I paid for snorkeling since it wasn’t mentioned on the ticket- he asked how many we had and said the equivalent of ‘no problem, not to worry.’ After a frustrating Spanish discussion, the boat set off with just us two and one other man and his daughter for the other activity in which guests could partake. While the crew member could have simply given the gear to us that he had in his hand, especially since we paid the park entrance fee, he refused. Likely a policy of his job, but it would have been so easy and consequent-less for him or anyone else.
Once we got to the other activity, the other man left of the boat gave us $50 pesos and in Spanish, asked the crew member to drive us back. I promised to pay him back once we returned to land, and he even gave us a Milky Way! Kindness prevailed again! With our hearts allowing gratitude to fill the space that frustration had consumed, we were dropped off at the snorkel spot to join the others.
The snorkeling was sub-par, but keeping our perspective on the effort in required to have the opportunity, we enjoyed every moment. The water was warm and clear, with shades of blues and greens as promised. Next, we were taken to Playa Blanca, supposedly the most beautiful beach in the area. It was beautiful, but it seemed we were required to cram into one section of the beach that was riddled with vendors selling drinks (exclaiming every option repeatedly), jewelry and massages. It was not relaxing! The safest place from the hagglers was in the water, where we gladly spent much of our time, with our eyes always on the bag we brought!
We were able to repay some kindness back, when the man who lent us money (who was actually with his wife and two kids) were last to get on the boat. Looking for seats, we happily gave ours up and moved to sit separately in the back. Little did we know that this gesture was not just allowing his family to sit together, but it would result in getting completely soaked, as the back half of the boat experienced, as wave after wave drenched us with water. I just kept thinking, “people pay for this at Disneyland” and made the best of it. At least it was warm!
The next day, we sadly said goodbye to Cartagena’s effervescent energy and entrancing beauty, and headed to Santa Marta and Tayrona National Park’s jungle-lined beaches!
