Back in the land of
Trip Start
Apr 21, 2003
1
31
34
Trip End
May 07, 2004
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Cartagena, Colombia
Saturday, April 3, 2004
I am a city girl. I have learned to appreciate the serenity of quiet places, but I belong in a city.
Even still, after four days of peace and quiet, I was overwhelmed when I got back to Cartagena, which isn't even that big of a city.
But after sleeping in a hammock next to the ocean for three nights and having absolutely nothing to do other than snorkel, swim, read, write and walk along a pristine beach, I experienced - for the first time in my life - disdain for the 'noise, smell, congestion and pollution' of cities that people who love the country always complain about.
Usually I welcome it. I need stimulation. I love the hustle and bustle, the variety of people, stores and things to do in cities. But today, as soon as I stepped off that boat I was disgusted. It really did smell. And I got a headache from all the noise in the ten minute walk to my hostel.
To make matters worse, when I got to the hostel, they informed me that there was no water. It was Monday when I last showered. Sure, I've been swimming in the ocean, but I'm now stuck with the salt and sand all over me - in my hair, on my face, well everywhere.
We left here early Tuesday morning. I was with three English guys and we were determined to make it to Isla Grande (having all slept-in Monday morning) for a bit of sun and snorkelling. In fact, we hadn't slept the night before because at 5am, when we were still up, we made the decision that it would be smarter (all my best decisions are made at five in the morning) to watch the sunrise (ignoring the fact that it was completely cloudy out), and leave without sleeping.
After our hilarious, albeit unsuccessful, attempt at watching the sun rise, we took a taxi to the market where all the local (as opposed to tourist) boats leave from. We were worried, because we were told that the boat left at 8. Which of course was far from the truth. When we arrived we were told the boat would collect us at 9. At 9:20 it arrived, and we waited for nearly two hours before we were ready to take off. At which point we stopped about 20 meters away to pick up some oil (apparently nobody had thought it easier to walk and get this oil while we were waiting to fill the boat) and have a bit of a chat. And then we needed fuel. I hadn't forgotten that I was in a developing country until this point, I just hadn't had to deal with the inconveniences of it for a while (or at least I had gotten used to the small inconveniences, and forgotten what it was like to travel like a real backpacker!). Or maybe I was just tired and grumpy, although I think I took it all in with a greater sense of appreciation and amusement than my English companions.
But then we were off, and flying. I had miraculously managed to seat myself in one of the best seats on the boat. As Chris got absolutely drenched in the seat behind me, and the people on the other side also got smashed with waves, the people in the front of the boat stayed as dry as I did, but definitely got thrown around more violently.
In 45 minutes, give or take, we had arrived at Isla Grande. Our first stop was a mansion on it's own little island just off the main island. We dropped off some of the hired help, and then made our way around the actual Isla Grande, stopping at about 15 equally impressive houses to drop off supplies or other hired hands. There was a lot of money here, and we learned later that the president of Colombia has a house on the island as well.
Then it was our stop. The house was not nearly as grandiose as the others, but it was set overlooking the ocean, and as we watched the sun set that evening (after a full afternoon of sunbathing and snorkelling), we knew we were in paradise. The following day was just a longer day of doing nothing but relax and take in the beautiful ocean.
These were the first two nights I had ever slept in a hammock, but it was easy to get used to. Both nights I fell asleep easily to the sound of the waves and gentle breeze. I slept both nights for around 12 hours, and when I woke up, there was fresh Colombian coffee waiting for me. Beautiful.
On the third day, my English mates were heading back to Cartagena via Playa Blanca, where I had decided to stay a night or two. The boat ride was a little wetter this time around, but we landed right in front of the white flag I was supposed to look for, and Ruth was happy to take me in.
Playa Blanca is a lovely beach with only a couple of sweet houses affectionately nicknamed 'pueblito paisa' because they are owned by some paisas from Medellin, and a few very rustic huts. The breeze does a good job of constantly throwing sand in your face from two in the afternoon until early the next morning, so Ruth set me up in a hammock inside her shack.
I wandered around for a bit, but the sand being blown in my face really was aggressive, so I sat with the family drinking my cerveza and learning about how a 5-star resort was kicking everyone off the beach in the next month. Sad. People being kicked out of their homes. And it really had charm just the way it was.
That night, after Ruth made me dinner, her husband told me horror stories about all the snakes in the mountains, and of the few that had made it into their home. He was petrified of them, as most are poisonous, and some like to drop from the ceiling. He said they rarely came to the beach, which is why he lived there, but I was glad I had put up my mosquito net, even though I was not entirely confident that it would do much to ward off the serpents that were bound to attack me. Luckily the only ones that came to visit were the ones in my dream.
After another 12-hour sleep I was up at around 10. I jumped in the clear turquoise water quickly, and Ruth made me my arapita (deep-fried pastry with egg inside). I wandered along the empty beach, and realized I was definitely the only extranjero around. And possibly the only tourist. It was lovely. One or two locals tried to sell me necklaces, but otherwise I was as alone as I possibly could be.
Alone. Something that 5 years ago I would have never chosen to be. And still something I usually wouldn't choose for myself. But I relished it. And couldn't have imagined having to share it with anyone.
And then the dive boat appeared. Don't ask me where all the locals came from, but suddenly there were prawns, massages and jewelry offers coming from all corners. There were only three people on the boat, and all I could do was ask the driver for a ride back to town, and then jump in the water for some peace and quiet again.
Which was when the tour boat showed up, and it was chaos. Okay, well, chaos given the tranquility that I had been experiencing up until then. I went for a walk and had about three people follow me with items for sale, and stories about how they needed to support their families. I sympathized, because I knew not many tour boats were coming to the beach at this time of year, but I couldn't buy another necklace. And truly wanted to be left alone for my remaining time there.
And then I landed back in Cartagena, which I have described above. I haven't heard so many 'Hey you's since I was in Africa. But that's a tourist town for you. And I still marvelled at the beautiful buildings in the old city as I wandered back to the hostel.
Tomorrow I hope to make it to Santa Marta, where, depending on how I feel and what accommodation is like, I will either go to a rave, or to Tyrona Park, which apparently has the nicest beaches in all of Colombia. It's Semana Santa (Easter week), so hopefully there will be somewhere to stay.
Hope all is well.
Joanna
