Taking it easy on the Carribean coast

Trip Start Sep 03, 2007
Trip End Jul 03, 2008

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Where I stayed
Bayview Hostel

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Friday, April 18, 2008

A word of advice never travel with Rapido Ochoa, our 16hr overnight journey to Santa Marta was the worst journey we have taken so far but none the less we got there eventually. With no desire to stay in Santa Marta we jumped in a collectivo for 1000pesos and were relieved to find as we drove into Taganga it was pretty much as we imagined it; a small fishing village with a scruffy beach, but set in an absolutely stunning bay. We check into our hostel, Casa Felipe, which is supposed to be one of the best budget places to stay in town. It was quite atmospheric, but there we were told the room was ony available for one night. So after Jamie cooked dinner we went in search for alternative accomodation for the remainder of our stay. While checking out hostels we bumped ito some English in the early stages of their night out, Danielle, Olly and his sister were all good fun to sit and drink with and share some British humour which we havenīt had for a while. The next thing we know we are in El Garage - the local nightspot enjoying rum and coke.

After waking Jamie from his deep sleep in the hammock outside the hostel we moved hostels and settled in Bayview, which was the first clean hostel we have stayed in for a long time, the sight of clean white sheets won me over, so for 40,000 pesos a night we decided it was worth it. Only one minor problem the hostel was over run with Irish. Some turned out to be great company some just very odd; Cormack, James and Liam were by far the best craic. Jamie and I have decided to start writing names of people we meet in our blog, as now we are not keeping diaries we will never remember who the hell we met - so sorry if this is boring for you. Saturday night was spent drinking far too much Rum and coke with these guys and once again we ended up thinking we could Salsa dance in El Garage.

Basically our week in Taganga consisted of me struggling to get out of bed to go to my Spanish lessons every morning. I had to endure 4hrs of intensive lessons with Nester my teacher, who was a slave driver and never gave me breaks. And if youīre wondering if my Spanish has improved - that is debatable, but I can definietly recognise more words now when they are speaking, however Spanish words do not exactly flow out of my mouth yet! I would have to walk past the donkey tied up outside our hostel and give him a carrot as I couldnīt bear the sight of him eating his own faeces (as many people caught him doing). I would get back every lunch time to find Jamie had occupied himself with lots of meaningfull chores such as making jewellery, watching DVDs and emailing. Every afternoon we would just chill in our hostel, normally start by reading a book in the hammock and this would lead to a good few hours of sleep. By about 4ish it would cool down enough for us to wake up and have our first beer (it is unbearably hot here in the day - 35deg). There is always someone in the hostel to sit around and drink with, which would inevitably turn into a messy night.
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