Pictures from Cartagena and Taganga

Here are some pictures from the past two weeks. More updates to come.

http://picasaweb.google.com/jmasaschi/Colombia#

Taganga, Colombia

Taganga is small fishing village in the north of Colombia. It sits on a beautiful bay, surrounded by mountains and is on the edge of Parque Tayrona, one of the most popular national parks in Colombia. It sits an amazing bay, looking out to the Caribbean. There’s a marina (really just a dozen or so boats and pangas moored or beached and another few dozen unseaworthy vessels strewn along the beach) on one side and the beach on the other. Lots locals, backpackers and hippies hanging around. The hotel I planned on staying was full, I stayed next door. It felt like I spent the night in a Colombian jail. It was an empty concrete room. Nothing inside but a bed and a fan, wall crumbling and it had one window that looked out to a stone wall. But it was cheap and it was about 15 yards from the water. The next day was spent looking for ac. I spent the next night at a nice hotel on the hill….excellent ac and an amazing view of the bay and town. Not bad for about $20 us.

Spent the day walking around town, setting into the vibe, going for a swim in the bay. The night was more of the same….walking around, talking to a few locals and other travelers. On my walk back to the hotel, I had to go through the “marina”. It’s mostly deserted at night and pretty dark. I hear a motorcycle coming up behind me, it’s the federales. I can’t understand much of what they’re staying. One stands guard while the e tarts searching me. He immediately takes all the money in my pockets. About $25 us.He continued to search me…all my pockets, waistband, etc.. All I have is the money in my pocket, so they give it back to me and tell me to have a good night. They ended up being somewhat polite and , in the end, made me feel somewhat safe that they weren’t just looking to shake down a tourist. I was pretty nervous, though, standing in the dark with two Colombian federales.




I met an American guy who had been living in Baltimore, traveled for a few months and just bought a hotel here in Taganga. He just took over the place a couple days ago and was just about to open the restaurant. Five days into my trip and I’m already working. I’m helping him cook and run the bar in exchange for a cheap room and some free food/ beers. Last night was the first night. We basically threw a party/ bbq and called a restaurant. Everyone staying here seemed psyched to have somewhere to hang. So now I’m living about 10 steps from the beach in Colombia, helping to run a restaurant and hotel. Pretty funny.



Life here is good. I wake up, take a stroll down the beach, drink some strong Colombian coffee, get a fresh smoothie (for less then $1 us),. A swim in the bay for a workout. Lunch at one of the stands on the beach…they bring you a tray of fish, right out of the ocean, you pick out what you want and they cook it up. They serve it with soup, fries, salad and the best rice I've ever had. They cook it with coconut milk….it’s sweet, savory and unbelievably delicious. Then a siesta, more coffee and start hanging out, I mean working, at the restaurant. I really can’t complain. Todo bien.

Trip to Taganga

So far in my trip, granted only three days, I have felt completely safe. I really wasn’t sure what to expect when I got here. I thought maybe I wouldn’t be able to just wander around at nights, maybe not really even during the day in some parts of town. But I was able to explore the town at will, day and night, and never once felt in danger. The trip to Taganga was a little more exciting.

I ended up getting a later start then I had hoped. I planned to take the local bus to the main terminal, I waited for a while with no luck and ended up sharing a cab with 2 Colombian women. The traffic was moving at the speed of a slow walk. It definitely allowed for an entirely different view of the city, however. The streets were packed with cars, buses, trucks, motorbikes and people selling just about everything. No such thing as lanes, people driving wherever and however they wanted. Motorcycles almost bumping the cab they were so close. The ride ended up taking almost an hour. Waited about 20 minutes for the bus and we took off around 4:30.

The ride is about 2.5 hours to Barranquilla, another almost 2 to Santa Marta, then a 20 minute cab to Taganga. I fell asleep about an hour into the first ride. Woke up to the bus stopped at a small town. The driver was outside along with drivers from several other buses and trucks. There seemed to be some commotion going on and the Colombians on the bus looked a bit concerned. Not long ago, this area was the home to a raging civil war and most of the country side was run by the FARC rebel group. The area has been relatively calm for the past few years, but some of the FARC remain in the hills and occasionally make their presence known. We’re there for about 30 minutes, I have no idea if a bridge is out, if there’s an accident or if it’s some kind of military blockade. Some people are asking the driving questions, but I have no idea what they are saying and by the looks on their face can’t tell can’t tell if they are agitated that they’re going to be late or if they are nervous. The busses in front of us start to move and off we go. We passed a few military/ police vehicles but still no clue what was holding us up. The driver did his best to make up time, passing everything in site regardless of oncoming traffic or approaching blind corners.



It’s dark by the time we get to Barranquilla. I was really hoping to avoid traveling at night, but Barranquilla is a large industrial town with little to no infrastructure for tourists, the city is 30 minutes from the bus station and the few hotel they have are expensive. The drivers asks who is continuing to santa marta, I’m the only one. He stops on the side of a road, actually the intersection of 2 six lane roads. He tells me something indecipherable in Spanish, grabs my bag from the back and points to the other side of the street. It was utter chaos. People and vendors all over the side of the street, trucks and busses stopped everywhere. Cars and trucks and motorcycles going in every direction. The bus immediately pulls away, the driver hanging out the window yelling something and again pointing across the street. I see a few buses so I head in that direction. First I had to cross the street….it was like crossing 695 at rush hour, but instead of the 3 lanes in each direction, there were 5 lanes in the same space as people passed between lanes and on the shoulder. I felt like frogger. I tall white, goofy frogger with a 40 pound pack on my back.

I found the bus on onto Santa Marta. It’s now pitch black. Maybe 10 minutes into the trip, the bus comes to a stop. The windows have curtains so I can’t see much outside. A man with a uniform and a large gun boards the bus, he says something I don’t understand and all the men get off, all the women stay on board. He checks out bags and pads us down as ewe get off the bus. I am the only non-Colombian on board. After he searches all of us, he goes on the bus looks around, checks the luggage compartment and sends us on our way. Seemed to be just a common military checkpoint, my heart was racing nonetheless.

I finally arrived in Santa Marta, basically dropped off on the side of the road again. Quickly get in a cab, the car looked like it had been in an episode of pimp my cab. We driving on one of the main streets through town, the take a turn down a pretty quit street, then another quieter, darker street. Then another. The driver slows down to a near stop, honks, and waves to some dark shadow standing on the street. This happens a few more times. I was starting to get a bit nervous at this point, but we were quickly back on the main road heading over the hill. I realized that he was just trying to find someone else going to Taganga to share the fare. Once again, my heart is racing and it turns out to be nothing at all.

Cartagena de India, Colombia

I landed in Cartagena early on the morning of june 14th, my 36th birthday. The flights were a bit long but otherwise easy. As was customs. I quickly found a cab into town and place to stay. The hotel, The Viajero, was clean, cheap, had internet access, and best of all, had good air conditioning. By the time I dropped my bags off and set out to explore the town, it was around 10 am, already the city was stifling hot. I spent the next few hours walking the narrow cobblestone streets; checking out the colonial architecture, massive forts and amazing stone wall surrounding the city. It reminded me a lot of Havana, especially Habana Viejo. Although a lot less contrived and not nearly as touristy. Although there plenty of tourists in town and touts on every corner. After a few hours cruising around the city, and surveying other lodging options, I went back the Viajero for a nap. I have never enjoyed a cold, windowless room so much. I hung out there until about dark and set off to find some dinner.

I ate dinner at a ceviche place that was on an episode of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations. That show was probably my single biggest inspiration for visiting Colombia. I never had given traveling in Colombia much thought, assuming it would be suicidal. But the people on the show were so inviting and proud of how far their country has come in relatively few years. So far, everyone has been extremely friendly, especially given my lack of Spanish. Not much English is spoken here.

Anyway, the ceviche was delicious….calamari, shrimp, conch, and fish with lime and garlic. Not much else. I sat outside and watched a good mix of locals and tourists wandering around. Nights in Cartagena are amazing, The Caribbean breeze cools the city and everyone is in the streets. Old people, small children, entire families and groups of tourists and young locals off to hit the clubs. The kids are riding bikes and playing stick ball, fathers are cooking dinner on makeshift grills, women chatting and everyone having fun. This also reminded me of Cuba, they seem to be very similar people/ cultures. I imagine Colombia is what Cuba would be like with money and without the communist government.

The next day was more of the same, exploring the city, long siesta in the afternoon, then out for dinner and an evening stroll. I met a Spanish guy and 2 girls on vacation from Medellin. I had a few beers with them at a bar built on top of the 40 foot stone wall surrounding the city. It had an amazing, looking over both the old town and modern skyline. It also looked over the lit castile. It’s the largest Spanish fort built in the new world and was never taken despite countless attempts. It was fun practicing my Spanish and it was very helpful that the Spaniard could translate when needed.

Spent another morning walking around town and doing some errands. I think going to the bank was the highlight of the day. Tuesday was the hottest day so far and that bank felt like a walk in cooler. Back to the hotel to pack my bags, I was heading north.