Cartagena, the new love of my life.

29April
Next morning Nikola was in fine fettle. I think a lot of his problem was dehydration. Anyway we explored Giron for a few hours, Giron is a a town of 45000 but with a beautiful old part separate from the rest, that has a village feel. We had a nice breakfast and enjoyed a walk around the lovely village. All the buildings are whitewashed. The streets were clean. Inside shops and the hotel etc. everything was clean and painted and well kept. Shelves were straight, with displayed neatly and imaginatively. It was just such a pretty village. Before long, it was time to get the bus back to Bucaramanga for the next destination. San Gil
A few hours later we were in San Gil, searching for the bus to Baricharia. Again another small village of 4000. Oh my god, if I thought Giron was beautiful, Baricharia was even more striking. The LP describes the village "as the kind of town that Hollywood filmmakers dream about." That is a very apt description of Baricharia. We found a lovely hotel with an open courtyard inside the hotel. The owners and staff of the hotel were just such lovely people. We walked around the village for a few hours, admiring the beautiful old church with its huge crooked beams and its simple but beautiful decor. Each street had something to please the eye. Some lovely shops with pastries to make the mouth water, or handicrafts to catch the eye. Add to that the friendliness of the people and you have something quite enchanting. Nikola and I sat on several occasions just on the steps or on a bench in the park watching the world go by or chatting. There wasn't much else to do. The internet didn't work. There was an internet cafe but... So of course we got to know each other a little.

Now Nikola is an interesting chap, with some odd ideas but none the less very strong ideas... He is 7 years older than I and a maths professor in a Canadian university. He is married with one daughter whom he lives with in Canada. He is trying to improve his English talking with me, as he struggled when he first came there from Greece. He can be really lovely to me but sometimes he is pretty off with the locals and does not believe in saying please. He is very much a macho man. So this doesn't sit so well with me. He goes hunting and and owns a property in the middle of the forest in Canada and Greece and much prefers being alone than with people. Although can be very sociable, in the right company. However, he is very intelligent, has a good sense of humour and is interesting to talk to. We are quite honest with each other and I have told him I think he can be arrogant, stubborn etc. He says his wife feels the same. So I think I have a lot in common with his wife. I think she must be a saint sometimes as there are times I would have killed him if I was her. I would like to meet her, though as she is French and a lecturer in French grammar and is rather gifted at languages. To be fair his good points often outbalance the bad. He listens to the criticism he receives. As he said himself, he is trying to find himself and he is trying to change his bad habits. We make odd but companiable travelmates.

30AprilWe had a nice breakfast in the local panateria (bakery/cafe). We asked a few people where the old Spanish trail was, to go to a village(Guane), recommended by LP. We followed the trail. A few times we had our doubts if we were on the right path but carried on. It was a lovely stone trail laid in 1864, according to the stone signs at the start of the path. The views were lovely and Nikola was in his element. It was a bit tiring though, as the stones were uneven and it was very hot. After about a 2.5 hour trek, we arrived in this ancient village. On the way into the village we passed the odd tiny house and its farm, with chickens, sheep and goats etc. Roast chickenFinally he got his roast chicken. oh my god.

01 MaySo we have to drag ourselves away from this idyll. We had a last walk around, breakfasted, packed, then caught the bus to San Gil. Nikola was lucky, his bus left 30 minutes after our arrival for Bogota and would take him 7 hours. Mine was about 6 hours later taking 16 hours. So I had to occupy myself watching X-Men II in Spanish, although watching Hugh Jackman in any language is good. I read a little watched another movie being shown on the communal tv.

02 MayLunch time I arrived in Cartagena, I got a bus from the bus station to what I thought was the street near Casa Viena, a hostel recommended in Lonely Planet. I then had to get taxi to Casa Viena, as I had no clue where I was, as the map in the LP doesn't have most of the street names and I was tired of walking with a ruddy big rucksack etc. I ended up being put into a room with some guy. That was all that was left but it was 15000 so not so bad. I didn't care, I went straight to bed for a few hours, as exhausted. I went in search of food later in the evening and found a nice restaurant locally. I didn't want to walk around, as it seemed quite a dodgy area. Later the guy came in. I never got to know his name. He barely said a few words but was polite and was only in the room for a short while. I think he speaks spanish. About 4 in the morning he returned. He must have been drunk, because when I woke up he was asleep and still had his shoes on.

03 MayHad to move hotels, as they had someone coming in. A stroke of luck really, as I am now in a much friendlier, cleaner and cosier place with a room by myself and a bathroom ensuite, all for 5000 Pesos more. Result!! I had a fab breakfast in this lovely cafe (Gato Negro) owned by a German woman who moved here a year ago. A large bowl of fresh fruit, pineapple juice and tea, all for 5000. I took some notes from Casa Viena on tours etc, then moved hotels. This took ages so it was lunchtime before I got to explore Cartagena.

I wandered to the old town in search of a Vegetarian restaurant, a la Lonely Planet. No sign of it. No Surprise. Found another lovely one called La mullata. Had a great typical Colombian dish. Soup containing 3 types of potatoes and chicken. The chicken tasted so good, like chicken from my childhood. I walked for hours, stopping at the odd square to take in the atmosphere and to rest. There are some lovely squares usually with a church and or some government buildings. The largest square, Plaza Aduana, was the square where all the military marched in front of goverment officials etc. in days gone by. Now it is the gathering point for the local tourist transport. Lovely old open carriages and their horses. I like watching these go by. The drivers of these don't hassle you but just gather in their spot. Not so, the taxi drivers who continuously hoot at you and call taxi to you even though it is perfectly obvious you are walking quite adequately on your own or staring at some window or building or have already ignored or said no to several other taxis just in front of him. During the heat of the day, I ventured into Parque Bolivar. This is the most beautiful one. It has some gorgeous tall trees cooling the air and giving shade & colour. A couple of water fountains contribute to the air of coolness, making it the most pleasant place to sit in the city. It is surrounded on all sides by impressive mansions or museums. The museum of gold, the palace of the inquisition, now a museum, containing the torture implements used during the inquisition. Yes they got here too. An amazing troupe of dancers and drummers, numbering about 12, entertained the parque´s occupants. If I was Andrew Lloyd Webber, I would be signing them up. It was sort of an African drum rhythm and the dancing was a mixture of African tribal dance and salsa. It was well practiced and coordinated.

Towards the evening, I went back to the hotel and at reception, this girl asked if I had been to Brazil. Amazingly enough it was the girl (Marili) I had spoken to in Preya di Pipa, a friend of Aartys. She had been the only one of the South Africans, I had had a chance to talk to and she had been very nice then. The bizarre thing was she was in Jericoacoara for a week, the same time I was and we had not bumped into each other. Considering I had bumped into everyone else made it even more unbelievable. We went to a restaurant on one of the main squares and swapped stories. We swapped many thoughts on travelling as lone females. Both of us felt wary about walking on the streets, near our hotel after dark but felt perfectly safe in the old town.

We also discussed the attention we got, albeit not too bad and how many women here dress very provocatively. She told me about 2 Norwegian guys, she had met, who had met some Colombian girls and after they had slept with them, the girls demanded money. The boys were so confused that they paid up but it made them very wary about fraternising with the locals again. Apparently some girls here are prostitutes but it is hard to tell, as so many dress with very tight tops and very short shorts or skirts. However, some girls, whilst not prostitutes per se, go with gringos and expect everything to be paid for them or even demand money after they sleep with them. This surprised me. I had thought it was mostly females like us gringas that had problems but I guess the guys do too.

Later we went back to continue our chat at the hotel and on the terrace met an English girl called Callie. We had a lot in common, she is just a year younger than I and is on a secondment from her bank job and is travelling for a year. She mentioned that I was quite a strong person like her. OR maybe she even used the word dominant. I found that strange as I had not said very much and had just let her and Marili talk. I find it so odd. Some people think I am very strong when they meet me and others find me under confident. How confusing is that. I find this bewildering. How people can see such different sides to my personality but rarely the full picture. Unfortunately I had to bid farewell to Marili, as she was leaving for Costa Rica at 8.30 next morning. But we exchanged email addresses and hope to meet in Costa rica or Nicaragua in the next month or so. She was supposed to sail to Panama but as she is South African, she found out she would have to wait 3 weeks for approval to go there. There was no time for that, so she is skipping Panama. 04May: Breakfasted at the Gato Negro again. Ok so I can be a creature of habit... but the food, staff and venue are so nice and with my dietary limitations is perfect.

Back to the old town to continue my exploration. I thought, as it was Sunday it would be busy but it was quieter than yesterday. This meant it was easier to get some fotos without people in them or at least not so many or so many cars. I was in Plaza Pedro Clover. Pedro was a priest, who ministered to the slaves, as best he could and the square and church were named in honour of him and his work. There is a life sized statue of him and one of his parishioners. There are also many lovely wrought iron sculptures there, e.g. 2 characters playing chess etc.. And many pigeons. And where there are pigeons, there is a man selling seeds for the birds. It is nice to see that they haven't stopped this here, as they have in Leicester square in London. It was nice to watch the parents with their kids and the kids reactions to the birds. Although, one little brat was chasing the birds trying to kick them. I was pleased to see the birdseed seller tell the kid off. I found myself absent mindedly looking at the pigeons and seeing a pattern to their behaviour. er as you do... I noticed the males plumping up their feathers around their necks and chests, following rapidly behind a female, equally rapid, at escaping their attentions. It was such a merry dance. The male circling the female, bowing to her when in front of her or trying to jump her when behind. Hmmm

I was really tired after my late night, so returned to the Marlin for a wee siesta, only to return to the old town about 6pm, trawling the streets in search of a nice restaurant, that was not exorbitantly expensive but posh enough to satisfy my yearnings for something more upmarket, than the places I have been to for most of the last few weeks. I really do like nice restaurants and nice food. I like street food and I like the local restaurants and sometimes, I find a cheap restaurant that serve food, that rivals and exceeds other restaurants in a far higher price or market bracket. But I like to have a nice venue with nice music etc every now and then. The girl can´t help it. As one person put it... I have champagne tastes and beer money.

I settled on this empty but oh so tastefully decorated Spanish restaurant. I had gazpacho followed by garlic mushrooms and Jamon Serrano, washed down with a delicious fruit juice made from a red berry, that here is called Moro. Oh it was nice. I was satiated. I had a long chat with one of the chefs (Miguel), who wanted to practice speaking English. He is studying at the local university but doesn't get much chance to speak English. He helped me a with some Spanish words too.
I wandered into Plaza St Domingo, another lovely square, with a selection of outdoor restaurants and the dance troupe was energetically performing again, in front of the steep walls of the St Domingo church. I was seduced by the rhythms and remained for a while to watch. The place was full of late evening diners and mellow lighting. I read til past midnight. I had no choice, as a group of Americans, an English chap and an Irish girl were partying animatedly, in the common area near my room and one young american girl excelled in volume with a voice that was hard to ignore.


05May I was awoken at 6.30 AM, by the sweet dulcet tones of my american friend from last night, announcing to the world that "I love you and I can feel the aircon..." Dragging myself away from murderous thoughts, I tried to return to sleep but could still hear her and her colleague through the walls of about 4 other rooms. I got up. After breakfast at the Gato Negro, this time, muesli and yogurt. Lovely! I returned to the Marlin for my 11am appointment with my Spanish teacher to be, Alfredo, a very nice chap. He gave me a run down of the price etc. and agreed to meet at 2pm. I had a quick stab at the internet to check mail and to find the panama consulate here, as well as visa info for Panama. Looks like I am ok. I think it is only South Africans that have to get authorisation to enter. Thats a relief.

I had lunch in this tiny Venezuelan place, which charged me 4000 (1.30GBP) for a delicious thirst quenching passion fruit juice with a rice, beans, salad and curried drumstick combo. Bargain! That warrants a revisit.Between, 2 & 4pm, Alfredo coached me in pronunciation, present tense of various verbs and sentence construction. He catered to my level brilliantly. I have picked up a few words, as many resemble French or I have come across them in my phrasebook etc. or through my translations of Esteban´s Spanish mails to me. Tx Esteban. Those 2 hrs were tough. I have not been taught anything like that for a lonnnngggg time. I had to take a half hours lie down.

I continued my exploration, in the old town but in an area, I have not been since the 2nd day. It was still quiet, as it is a bank holiday. I sauntered around, just enjoying the streets and old buildings. At times I feel I have walked into a movie set, to be removed any minute. At other times I feel I am in what I think New Orleans would look like. Most of the houses and mansions have at least one balcony if not more. Some of the houses don't have glass in the windows, many have beautiful iron fencing over the windows, others have carved wood fencing. The fencing keeps out anything living but lets the air in. There are shutters to keep out the light or rain or for privacy. Many of the houses are well kept but there are many that could do with some loving care and attention. I saw a beautiful mansion I would not mind having. A 3 storey classical beauty, just missing a balcony on the 1st floor but with large wooden doors and huge windows, under lovely arches. Something to think about.

I sat in an old square, taking in my surroundings. Some locals women chewing the fat, a taxi driver swapping stories with a policeman and the local restauranteur. And of course the predators in their yellow armour, circling incessantly, their heads jutting out, eyes peeled, searching for quarry, poised, ready for the pounce. The type of prey doesn't matter, Colombian or gringo. Money is money. In between an array of fine horses with their carriages always painted red, regally trotting by. Mostly with couples or families, the driver pointing out the tourist attraction. My stomach announced the time, as all that observation had worked up an appetite. So I had a fancy kebab and a lovely coffee with Cardamom and cloves, in the Zebra cafe, facing the square. Whilst eating, I chatted with 2 French girls, I had seen earlier in the Gato Negro. Small world.

By the time I was ready to leave, darkness had descended. The city is even more beautiful at night. The street and house lamps used, are old, so give a lovely mellow light. Some of the streets are quiet. One little square had some bars around it with piped jazz music. There were many houses along the stret with beautiful balconis dripping with flowers. I was transported to New Orleans, maybe the movie "Angel Heart". or perhaps "The Big Easy". Most of the time you hear salsa music or similar drifting from someone's house or restaurant or bar. Everywhere in Venezuela and Colombia, salsa is in the air. It gives a really nice vibe and musical backdrop to my walks. It feels like a sound track. Each day I become more enamoured with Cartagena´s beauty. I am falling in love with Cartagena.