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Adios Taganga, Buenos Cartagena
Entry 7 of 31 | show all | print this entry |
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Before starting a description of our new destination, its worth noting that last night we hit the town of Santa Marta. Our new found Spanish speaking friend (Kylie) invited us to Santa Marta to play wingman on her date with her scuba diving instructor - Senior J as he shall be hence forth be referred.
We headed to Santa M around 9pm, early by Colombian standard but ensured we found a good spot in a bar "La Peuata". As the drinks flowed the bar filled and I scoped out the place. To our left two older Swiss gentlemen appeared to be on a date with two ladies of the night (harsh but fair given the way they dressed and danced) and to our right, 3 rich kids from Bogota who were happy to share their bottle of local spirit with the group.
Senior J hit the dance floor and did Colombia proud. He also gave Cam a bit of a crash course in how to dance... starting with the basics.. sway your hips.... then onto moves a little too complex or flamboyant for an Aussie male. Not to be outdone, it was time for Kylie and I to show them how it should be done.... I don't think we were quite expecting the reception we got but, it was graciously received... posh kids, prostitutes and locals all cheering and clapping as we flung ourselves around kicking off our flip flops and getting very warm. Job done, I think. Although.. Cameron and I were left wondering what the prostitutes would do with the photo they took of the two of us with their camera phone...we have been amazed how much of a novelty we seem to be and have put it down to the blonde hair.
Home by 2am (very respectable) and up by 7.30am, we caught the local bus from Taganga back to Santa Marta bus depot and straight onto a direct bus to Cartagena. Phew... As we were already aware, these journeys are not for the faint hearted. Constant horn blowing and frequent periods on the wrong side of the road. You are left wondering if time to destination has some kind of bonus relation to pay. It is impossible to see out of the drivers window as he and his right hand man sit in a cabin (of sorts). This can leave the traveller a little weary and car sick as Cam found out. Fortunately, after 4 bumpy hours we arrived in Cartagena.
Pigeon Spanish enabled us to find the hostel (Casa Vienna) which leaves a lot to be desired and is very basic. The area seems somewhat unsavory but with only 10mins walk to the old town, we have decided to stay put but not venture out after dark unless by taxi.
At the end of the day, what can you do for $17 a night (inc bath and TV)? It would be unfair to complain. www.casaviena.com The bathroom was the world´s smallest and Cam had to sit sideways on the toilet to fit in. It was always going to be a tough act to follow Casa de Felipe, in Taganga. Although, there seemed to be much nicer hostels down the same road.
The remainder of our afternoon was spent grabbing a cheap eat and strolling around the old town, which is amazing. The architecture is almost Venetian. In this sense it seems to be the jewel in Colombia´s crown.
We thought we´d give the old town a second look on day two and went to visit the Palace of the Inquisition. Splashing out on COP20,000 for an English speaking guide was worth it as he gave us more information on the history of Colombia. We had a spot of lunch in one of the squares which took a mere 1.5 hours to arrive and was once again carb based. People seem to do things in there own time here. I think if we weren´t in the backpacker mood that could be frustrating. We sampled a house white (Argentinian) which was dry but had a taste of honey to it. I couldn't decide if that was its true taste or if they had added honey to disguise the taste!! EVERYTHING here has sugar in it... and if not... its a carbohydrate with lots of salt. I now know why all the women are so shapely. Big bums are definately the norm.
Having decided we would check out the Cartagena nightlife we positioned ourselves in the cramped lounge of Casa Vienna with a bottle of rum and a large bottle of Coke. Sure enough within the hour we had a gang of people who were keen for a night out. We headed to the Zona Rosa. Ten minutes walk from the hostel and a drag of clubs and bars. Our evening was getting off to a good start until we realised the one good song we heard on arrival was in fact the ONLY good song they played. The worst music I have ever heard in a night club... I swear. All the gringos stood around looking at each other trying to look like they were enjoying themselves and then one by one slipped out into the night and back to the hostel...
Waking up the following day, a little fragile, we headed to the mud volcano. Unfortunately, it was raining, which made the path up to the top of said volcano somewhat precarious. It was also quite cold so when we lowered ourselves into the gloopy, grey mud the warmth that permeated from the 250 or so metres below was very welcome.
The thickness of the mud created resistance against the body and made moving difficult. It was bizarre to also feel such buoyancy far greater than in the ocean. Almost as if you were being suspended by strings which could slowly spin you around or move you from left to right. Occasional gases from the depths below bubbled to the surface. For one unsuspecting girl, many people were of the view that they were coming from her and not the volcano given the proximity to her backside.... joking aside it was interesting to see the bubbles seem to bring more oil to the surface.
It seemed impossible that the volcano could fit anymore people in it and yet they kept coming... and coming. It became a little crowded and did spoil things somewhat.. after deciding enough was enough we gingerly made our way back down the steps...
its hard to believe no limbs were broken. Cam made a spectacular wipe out as he moved towards to lagoon to wash himself clean. I was led down hand in hand with a 7 year old boy who passed me onto his mother. She whipped off my bikini (yep all of it) and washed all the mud from it and then washed me clean too. Thank goodness i was submerged and Cam was no exception... not for the faint hearted thats for sure. I´m sure on a sunny day it would've been more fun. It is worth a visit if only for its uniqueness and a bargin at COP33,000 (AU$19) inc a modest lunch.
Home to rest and out for some posh nosh in the old town. Cam had investigated an Argentinean restaurant (name to follow) which we had to ourselves until around 9pm when the locals came (clearly we picked well as we were the only gringos). We dinned on french onion soup and cream of mushroom. Followed by tenderloin and shish kebabs - pork, beef, chicken. All delicious and accompanied with a half bottle of white and an Argentinean red. Exepensive by Colombian standards (AU$165) We slept well....
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