Cartagena

A city of ice and fire

You know that feeling, you step out of the cold belly of an aeroplane and a wave of heat washes over you, now you feel like you’re on holiday. The sun is shining bright in the cloudless sky and the palm trees are gently swaying in the breeze, a fine welcome to the Caribbean coast of Northern Colombia. Christmas tunes play out while we wait for our bags and the airport is adorned with wreaths and other Christmas decorations. Despite the warm temperatures it still feels festive.

We make our way to our Airbnb in the heart of the walled city. To enter it, our taxi must pass through a tiny archway in the huge stone wall. On the other side we’re surprised to see horse and carts trotting through the narrow streets.

Our accommodation is really warm but we’re blessed with ceiling fans and tower fans in the lounge and air-con in the bedrooms that easily turn the rooms to an ice-cold temperature within minutes. Alex and I run a few errands around town while Lottie has a relax. In need of supplies, we find an Éxito supermercado on the edge of the walled city. It’s gigantic and would put any ‘Big Tesco’ to shame, like most shops here, the air-con is on full blast and it’s like walking through a freezer, we’re almost too cold! We head home and have a couple of beers while playing ‘Ok Go’, similar to connect 4 but with horizontal tiles rather than vertical coins. One on one, Alex usually beats me but with an extra player the game is quite different and I manage to win a couple!

For dinner, I’ve picked out a highly recommended seafood restaurant, La Mulata. On the way there, we admire the streets of Cartagena. Grand colonial buildings coated in pastel paints and wooden balconies varnished in an variety of colours. Some are decorated for Christmas and look even more picturesque than usual!

At La Mulata, we enjoy a round of mojitos and ceviche to start, not the first time Lottie has had it but she agrees it’s certainly the best she’s had. For main I surgically remove all the meat from a giant Mojarra fish while the girls have white fish, Lottie with the lemon sauce and Alex has the coconut sauce.

On our way home we stop at a Heladería for ice creams. I go for Banana Split (to Alex’s dismay), Lottie has pineapple and Alex has a mystery flavour. Tired from another busy day (remember we started in Bogotá this morning) we head home for a good night of sleep. A couple of dogs next door are set off barking every time a horse clip-clops down the road. This doesn’t disturb us too much though and we get to sleep just after 10. What does disturb me is the bastard brass band that decide to serenade someone a Happy Birthday in the street at 1:30am. I’m not sure what brass instrument he was playing so loudly but he’s lucky I was too tired to get out of bed and happily shove it down his throat.

Sun day, fun day

Our first full day in a long time without any public transport, wahoo! We start our proper explore of Cartagena with a trip to the Castillo de San Felipe.

A huge fortification built to protect the city from relentless attacks from a variety of corsairs (basically licensed pirates) including Francis Drake. The fort features intricate tunnels built to allow the occupants to easily detect enemy footsteps and communicate with each other throughout the tunnel system. There is certainly no air-con here as you can tell from how much we are glistening in these photos.

From the ramparts of the fort we can see all over Cartagena, way beyond the walled city which only makes up a small portion of the area. In the distance, across the bay, dozens of white skyscrapers tower above yachts and palm trees, looking very reminiscent of Miami.

After exploring every last inch of the fort, we make our way to Getsemani and it really feels like we’re in the Caribbean. The colourful streets, the vendors selling brightly coloured fruits and coconuts with straws poking out. There are ladies dressed in traditional clothing posing with fruit baskets on their heads. Hawkers selling hats, sunglasses, dominoes, cigars and many other items calmly try and get our attention, most take a simple ‘no gracias’ to get the hint. There are outdoor “art galleries” with beautiful paintings of the area, typical Colombian scenes, Botero imitations and of course… Lionel Messi.

Also like the Caribbean, it’s fiery hot and humid, in the sun it easily feels like 40 degrees. Having been on the go all morning, we stop for some fruit sodas at a nice brunch cafe in the middle of a quiet street. We take some photo’s on a disposable camera Lottie has brought out with her and head back towards the Airbnb.

We stop for lunch at a fancy restaurant called La Piedra. Alex and Lottie share a pineapple pizza (to my dismay) while I go for a chicken and mushroom pizza. It’s a decadent setting inside, exposed brickwork and nautical ornaments, vintage wines line the wall coupled with fine service and lovely food. Again I assure Lottie this is not always how we’ve been travelling for the previous 16 weeks but we do like the occasional treat!

We head back home, the girls have a siesta while I head out to get some more supplies for the evening meal, fajitas. I seem to have picked the only supermarket that doesn’t sell the local giant avocados, three times bigger than the ones back home. As a treat I pick up a bottle of the Gato Negra (black cat) a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon that Alex and I enjoyed way back in San Pedro de Atacama.

It’s highly recommended to head to the stone ramparts on the edge of town to catch the sun setting over the ocean. So, we make the five minute walk from our flat and ascend the 15ft high wall. There are a few hawkers trying to sell us beer and water but we’re already prepared and they leave us be. This section of the wall overlooks the Miami-like peninsula in the distance, a few tropical islands on the ocean’s horizon and of course the historic wall we’re stood on. It makes a brilliant clash of history, nature and 21st century money in one shot. We enjoy a couple of beers and watch the sun slowly melt into the water, painting the sky a beautiful orange as it sinks below the horizon.

We’re about to head home for fajitas but Alex suggests we explore a bit further along the wall. As we venture around, we’re lured in by music and Christmas lights and we keep following this trail around town. We pass Plaza de Bolívar (the liberator who started in Venezuela and made his way through South America) where a variety of Carribbean performances are taking place. Most involve dancing, music, traditional costumes and even a bit of fire! It’s a vibrant and energetic atmosphere which really brings the place to life. Of course on the edge of this historic square is a bloody Starbucks coffee shop, a growing bug bear of mine.

Next, we stumble upon a huge display of Christmas lights, it’s a nice festive surprise we had no idea was in town. We see giant illuminated versions of the three wise men, angels, Christmas trees, wrapped presents and a french horn?

Finally we decide it’s time to go back for some grub. The girls watch the new Chicken Run while I cook dinner in the sweltering kitchen! There’s no fan or ventilation in there so it’s definitely a challenge to chop and cook in the heat. It’s worth it though as we enjoy a delicious home cooked meal with a bottle of red. For evening entertainment we watch Arthur Christmas, also an Ardman production, afterwards we head to bed after a fun-filled busy day.

Slow coach to Minca

It’s been a bit of a whirlwind trip to Cartagena as today we need to check-out and head East to the jungle of Minca. With a bit of spare time in the morning we have a final explore around the bits of the walled city we haven’t yet seen. There are many stunning and grand churches in this small enclave, including one where an open wedding is taking place. We stand and watch part of the ceremony with a handful of other gringos at the back of the church, while a fully decorated Christmas tree dangles upside down above our heads looking rather satanic.

In need of saving a bit of money after the splurge yesterday we head to a restaurant for locals, selling the ‘menu’ (aka cheap dish of the day). On the whiteboard outside is a handful of main options, plus soup and a drink for 12k pesos (£2.40) each, bargain. Alex and Lottie opt for the Mojarra fish I had on our first night while I go for chicken breast. We’re not the only gringos in there but we’re definitely the minority. The food is decent enough and the top ups of fruit juice keep us hydrated. Annoyingly however, when we come to pay, we’re quoted 57k (£11.50) Alex explains to the server in Spanish that we ordered from the ‘menú’ but apparently what we ordered was a special on the menu. Alex tries to explain and even shows them a picture of the ‘menu’ board but they’re having non of it, those were the ‘specials’ they say. Thinking it’s not worth causing a scene we give in and pay the extra gringo/lost-in-translation tax. A bit disappointing but these things happen and a lot worse I’m sure.

To make our way to our next stay, we need to get to the bus station 1h outside of Cartagena and then take a 4h bus across to Santa Marta where we’ll finally take a taxi up to our glamping accommodation in Minca. We take a cab, the driver has a polite demeanour but drives chaotically, like a lot of drivers in Colombia their number one priority seems to be to get ahead of the vehicle infront, no matter what. He isn’t a dangerous driver and seems to recognize any risk but certainly upsets a few people with his constant edging forwards at every opportunity.

We drive through the sprawling Cartagena outskirts of an unending encampment of people who have come and made homes out of whatever they can find. Some are lucky enough to have brick walls, most homes are made of planks of wood or metal haphazardly nailed into a square shape, waste is strewn everywhere. We’ve seen poverty on this trip, but not so nextdoor to each other, and not so much from the huge wealth inside the walled city of foreign (mostly N.American) tourists splashing the cash. It’s jarring and makes us all the more appreciative for all we have.

At the bus station we’re told our bus is running about an hour late and will be here by 4pm. Of course it doesn’t turn up until nearly 5pm… Already two hours behind schedule, the bus ends up taking over five hours to get near Santa Marta.

During the ride, after a couple of hours, a local man gets on selling arepas stuffed with eggs. After our lunch experience, Alex smartly asks him how much they are first, 4k (80p) he says, ok we’ll take three. He works his way up the bus and comes back to me for his payment. I say “doce” which is twelve in Spanish, “treinta” he says… thirty in English (£6). Having already been ripped off once today I’m not having it again, I remind him he told Alex the price earlier and Alex helps me in Spanish. “Ah yeh I got mixed up” he suddenly remembers, and agrees to the original price.

Throughout the journey, I’m in touch with both the taxi driver that is waiting for us in Santa Marta and the glamping site where we’ll be staying for the next two nights. Devastatingly, it is getting so late that the glampsite suggests we stay in Santa Marta for the night and make our way to Minca tomorrow. Long story short, I convince them that for safety reasons (amongst other things) we really would prefer to stay there tonight. Kindly they agree to my plea.

We finally reach Santa Marta near 11pm, it’s so late that the bus station has closed for the night and we’re dropped off by the side of the road. There’s loads of gringos and friendly locals around so we feel relatively safe while we wait for our taxi driver to come and find us. At one point, a collectivo bus pulls in, and all the mototaxi drivers run and jump onto their bikes to swarm to their next potential fare like moths to a flame. Except we’re standing right in front of one of the bikes, so we quickly try and shuffle our many bags out the way. The locals clearly think we’ve been startled and that we’re in danger, and come over to reassure us that we’re safe and fine here. For standing on the side of a motorway in the middle of the night, everyone is incredibly friendly!

Goyo, our taxi driver, finally arrives, and after the journey we’ve had he’s a real treat and I feel like my genuine prayers on the bus have been answered. This trip will make a believer of me yet!

Goyo is super friendly, he talks with us in Spanish but all of us can get the gist of what he’s saying with our various levels of the language. He drives very safely but not too slowly, he points out his family house on the way up to Minca and tells us about the area, his personal life and best of all does an impression of his favourite cartoon, Pinky and the Brain. For the first time since we got scammed at lunch I can relax and know we’re in safe hands. Our saviour drives us all the way up to the external entrance to the glamp site where the owner meets us at the gate. We have to follow him through the pitch black jungle for around 10 minutes to the site. So close now…

There is time for one more disaster though. As we cross a rickety bridge of jump three bamboo poles strapped together with a low rope to cling onto to ‘stability’, with all our bags, over fast-rushing water, Lottie stumbles but keeps her balance. We later discover her hiking shoes have completely disintegrated, they’ve fallen apart way beyond repair. I tell her not to worry, we’re resilient and resourceful people, we will easily fix that problem tomorrow before starting the Lost City trek the day after.

Oh no, sorry, just one last problem… The cabin Alex and I have been taken to and finally started to relax in after midnight is in fact the wrong one. We’ve been given the keys to the luxury version that is booked from tomorrow. We need to repack tonight and move into a different cabin on the other side of camp. Back into the jungle night we go.

Travel certainly has it’s mix of good days and challenging days to say the least, this leg being a perfect example! I’m grateful we all made it to Minca in one piece.

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Lottie’s thoughts

Cartagena is a beautiful city. The various colours on the houses are vibrant and all look freshly painted. Some streets are decorated with parasols or bunting. I’m still adjusting to Colombian time so it feels a bit bizarre and dreamlike seeing horses and carts flying down the streets. The heat is welcomed after escaping London winter for a bit although I am sweating like never before. Even on a Sunday/Monday evening the streets are bustling and there is a lot going on wherever we go. Jim takes us for a meal at La Mulata where we have ceviche and I immediately ask when can we have it again.

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Adventure – The hottest place we’ve been since the jungles of Peru. The colourful and Caribbean flavours of Cartagena. Seeing beaches and the ocean for the first time in a while. Treating ourselves to ceviche and mojitos.

Excitement – Lottie enjoying the winter sun. Horses trotting through the streets. Wandering the streets of Cartagena and finding street upon street of Christmas lights and music and happiness.

Trauma – The entire bus journey. A lot of transit days. Feeling like we’re rushing around quite a lot.