Hey Everybody (I hope this includes more than just my mom),
I know it´s been some time since the last travel post, but hopefully at least a few of you have been mildly entertained with my Dark Knight Rises rant, released at the same time as the film.
Nevertheless, as some of you may know, I´m back on the road, currently in Colombia and heading to Mexico in under a fortnight, and think its only appropriate that I keep you all in the loop of what exactly I am up to...(please excuse the typos - my keyboard speaks spanish)
I arrived in Cartagena, Colombia this past Monday, and so far have really just been chilling out and taking it easy. Arriving armed wtih a fully marked up lonely planet in my pocket, I ditched all plans when I met two Brazilian guys at the hostel, both of whom could speak fluent English and Spanish, which was clutch, as I quickly became aware that knowing Spanish in this country is not just helpful, it´s practically essential. I wounded up chilling with these two dudes for two days, and besides being patient transleters, found them to be incredible company, full of all the laughter and madness you want out of vacation buddies. One of them, Daniel, is actually a Giants fan, which gave us plenty of sports trash to throw back and forth at each other, and certainly enabled the conversation to be more dynamic than the usual "where are you from and what do you do" nonsense.
Cartagena is beautiful and so different than any place I´ve ever been. The main tourist area and where I´m staying is the old city, an ancient stomping ground marked by music-filled alleyways, decorated balconies, delicious, cheap street food on every corner, and horsedrawn carraiges that parade tourists (mostly Colombian tourists, in fact) through the town. Home to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Cartagena feels like you are walking back in time to a scene from 100 years of solitutude, truly an otherly, worldly experience. And it just so happened that out of all the restaurants we could dine at, the Brazilians, my new, only, and critically helpful friends, decided they wanted to check out the Hard Rock Cafe. So after 24 years of living in the US and never having eaten at a Hard Rock Cafe, the streak finally ended, with my first Hard Rock Cafe experience being a veggie burger in the old city of Cartagena, Colombia. Authentic nothing!
The next day, after grabbing some freshly fried plantains in the town center, we took a taxi to a nearby beach , rented a tent, and for the next few hours of chilling in the sand, experienced the luxury of sales-people of every possible service and product passing us by on the beach and begging us to consider a purchase. The guys selling fish and drinks wasn"t a shocker, and even the women offering massages wasn´t such a surprise, but when all of a sudden there is a man in between me and the ocean view throwing a bootleg copy of the "newly released" Avengers in my face, that´s when I have to admit that this was a new experience for me. This pattern of an entire Wal-Mart selection of items being marketed and sold on the beach is one that has continued for the rest of the trip. Sometimes its hilarious (like when all of a sudden you are given the chance to get the christmas discount on school supplies right in the sand), sometimes its annoying (like when you are trying to enjoy just staring at the ocean, and a guy is putting necklaces around your neck that would make 50 cent´s bling look like child´s play), but still, I have to admit, I did enjoy the massage.
That evening, the Brazilians and me met up with some other Brazilian friends they made for drinks and dinner on top of the city wall overlooking Cartagena´s hotel skyline on one side and the open Carribean sea on the other. In the background played some psychidalyc yet soothing music that served as the ideal score for the ocean side sunset, and the delicious Civiche, which was topped with a nice spicy sauce and an easy 10 out of 10.
The third day, after a sad goodbye and a genuine open invition to come visit them in San Paulo anytime ( and I quote "all you would need to do is pay for the plane ticket - once you arrive in San Paula, we will hook you up!"), the Brazilians departed, and I was left to navigate the Spànish language on my own. I signed up for this tour of this Volcano that you hike up and instead of lava is filled with mud, which is supposed to be good for your skin ( a lie I´m used to hearing from the Dead Sea). Anyways, the volcano was really just a giant mount of mud, and the big pool of mud at the top, while relaxing in some ways, had a wierd texture and feeling to it that I still unsure how to describe. A tourist trap like no other, throngs of people line up at the top of the Volcano, and when it´s their turn, they get thrown into the mud pool and into the hands of a Colombian man, who massages you practically against your will and makes you pay later in the same vein. The mud pool itself is overwhelmingly crowded, with people bumping against each other in all sorts of uncomfortable ways. After you escape th mud which really feels like quick sand, you head down to a lake to rinse off, and just when you think you are free to chill out on your own, a Colombian woman grabs your arm, brings you into the lake, and starts pouring buckets of water on your head and scrubbing your hair like you are a 4 year old in the bath tub. The only thing missing was the rubber ducky. I broke free before the forced bath went on for too long, and after sufficiently scrubbing the mud out on my own (i´m almost 25, thank you very much), I headed back to the bus, ready to get out of there! The bus drove us to a beatiful near by beach, which thankfully lacked any tourists besides us, allowing us to truly chill, eat the classic fish and rice, and not have be forced to look through "newly released" dvds of films that came out in the 90s.
Today, I headed out on a boat to check out the Islas de Rosario and Playa Blanca. Islas de Rosario are a beautiful string of Islands, about an hour speed boat ride away from Cartagena, which are covered with uniquely designed mansions and set in crystal clear carribean blue water. We were dropped off on one of the Islands and given the option to pay for and go into an onsite aquarium, but given that I did go to school in Atlanta near the biggest aquarium tank in the world, I knew that nothing would meet my high expectations and opted to simply explore around the island instead (which was a great choice, because that´s where I got that nice picture I just uploaded to facebook). After getting picked up, we headed to Playa Blanca, named for its white sand, but distinguished even more so for the mesmerizing water. Playa Blanca was the definition of relaxing. After the usual lunch of fish, rice and plantains (which by the way, never gets boring as long as you squeeze enough lime juice on your plate), I rented a tent for shade with a couple that was half Colombian and half South African. They were a nice mix of backgrounds that gave us plenty to chat about, in the slowest, chillest way, as we sat in the sand, stared out into the sea, and sipped on drinks from coconuts.
The boat ride back was anything but relaxing. Going against some giant swells, our driver fearlessly put the boat into high gear, sending the boat flying over the waves and crashing back down into the water. The folks on the boat took it all with good humor, laughing, shrieking, and freaking out only in the best of ways, and if you just heard the audio soundtrack, you would swear you were listening to a group of 80 people on a terrifying roller coaster (when in fact, we were only 20 people, and if you have been paying attention up to this point, you would know we weren´t on a roller coaster). The most entertaining of them all had to be the woman sitting next to me, an old Colombian grandma, that despite her 80 plus years on this planet, couldn´t help but grin and crack up in my face the entire ride back, as I held onto my seat, terrified for my life.
This evening, I did the usual routine, of a walk along the city wall and a stop at my favorite civiche place (that"s right, its only been 4 days and I already have routines and favorite food stops...maybe that´s a sign that it"s time to leave...)and strolled on back to the hostel, where I write this blog post from. Tomorrow, after a morning coffee and stroll, I head to the airport, and am off to Medellin!
Until next time...
