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Arriving in Cartegena was exciting. The airline played a Cartegena song when we landed and all the Colombian holiday makers in their shiny outfits and garish wedges sang along, how adorable. The old town of Cartegena is set within huge city walls that run along the seafront. We walked the top of the walls trying to catch the breeze, and wandered through the cobbled streets between the beautiful old colonial buildings exploring the town that looks as though it's been frozen in time. There's even horse and carriages rattling through the streets! We had a lush fish dinner in a traditional Colombian restaurant that a friendly local recommended to us, then had mojitos in the square at a crazy Jamaican's bar while he told us about all his girlfriends and how he's basically a celebrity as he's been on a tv advert and met the President of Chile. After getting ourselves lively with rum and coke we went to a bar and met Emelyn, an English ex-pat who's been living in Cartegena ever since he came to visit 5 years ago. Emelyn took us to a street party and then to Media Luna bar that was packed full of gringos even though we hadn't seen any all day! We hung out on the roof top terrace until closing time, definitely appreciating life on the Colombian coast. Next day we went to Bocagrande beach. We started off walking but with such heat and Arthur's terrible sense of direction we quickly decided to hop on a bus and hope it drops us off somewhere close. It did but when we got there we realised Bocagrande is the Benidorm of Colombia. Maybe just because of our school holiday mistake, we had to fight for a spot on the less than picturesque beach and even to get in the litter-strewn sea. Despite our slightly shattered illusions of the Colombian coastline, the huge pots of freshly made ceviche (raw seafood in a lemony sauce) more than made up for it. We caught a taxi back to the old town which dropped us off at the famous (and famously overpriced) Cafe del Mar just in time for sunset. We sipped on the cheapest drinks on the menu whilst sat on the plush sofas of the bar set atop the city walls looking out to sea. Still a big fan of an excursion, the next day we went on a day trip to the El Totumo mud volcano. After an hour drive through the beautiful countryside on a bus full of fat tourists we arrived at what is probably the smallest volcano on earth. It really did look like a man-made mound of mud, but having already parted with our pennies and keen to get on to the fresh fish lunch, we stripped down to our bikinis and joined the queue to get inside the volcano and wallow in the (apparently) healing mud. Probably one of the weirdest experiences of my life, I climbed down the muddy ladder into the 3 meter volcanic bath full to the brim of other people rolling around. The mud is warm and thick, and forces all your limbs to the surface so you can't help but roll on your back like a beached whale.. sexy. Just as I was shouting 'this is gross' to Arthur I got dragged through the mud by a muscley Colombian who told me to relax, slapped mud on my face, and then started to massage the front of my body before rolling me over and massaging my back. Surprisingly it was quite a good massage, if unexpected! We wallowed for a while, mostly just trying to avoid rolling onto other people, but then got ushered out by our tour guide who showed us to a swamp where we could wash off all the mud. Here we got attacked by Colombian women with buckets who stripped off my bikini and proceeded to vigorously wash me and chuck water at me until I was clean. Then charged us for the uninvited invasion of privacy and personal space! Thanks so much. This traumatic experience was made up for with another lush fish dinner, this time in a little hut on the beach with views of the Caribbean Sea, before we got taken back to Cartegena for some more cocktail fun in the little bars lining the cobbled streets.
Next morning we caught an early bus to Santa Marta where we could then get a taxi to Taganga. The drive was so beautiful, following the coastline all the way up giving us teasing glimpses of the sparkling sea. The taxi took us up a tiny backroad up and round a mountain and just as we thought our Spanish had failed us the road opened up to an incredible view of the Taganga, a tiny town set in a little bay strewn with fishing boats and crab shacks on the beach. We found Hostel Nirvana at the back of the town at the foot of the mountain and it was heaven with a huge pool, hammocks in the sun, and a bar playing Bob Marley on repeat. From the hostel we walked the rocky path to the seafront and strolled past the hippy stalls and little cafes under thatched roofs. We got lured in by the smell of garlic and feasted on huge bowls of seafood chowder, lobster with prawns and calamari and many a margarita. Hello paradise.
Next morning we took a tiny fishing boat from the beach to Playa Grande which is supposedly even nicer but it was completely crowded with chubby Colombian tourists and hippies with dreadlocks - another national holiday, why do we never know?! Instead I skillfully tricked Arthur into a day of trekking by telling him the next bay along the coast would be quieter. Four bays and some strenuous cliff climbing later we found a tiny bay with clear water, only four hippies, and a woman selling coca cola from a cool box - all we needed! We sunbathed, reading school books and watching the boats and snorkellers in the sea, until the boat that dropped us off at Playa Grande happened to turn up and offer to give us a lift back! We spent the evening hanging by the pool in hammocks, drinking beers and chatting to Australian hippies who had been in Taganga for 6 months..!
Next day we got up early, had an incredible pancake breakfast, and found a boat company to take us to Tayrona National Park after hearing such good things about the beauty of it from Andres. We left the from the beach in the little fishing boat that was captained by a 14 year old kid and 5 minutes into the journey less than a kilometre from the coast the kid stopped the boat and shouted "DOLPHINS!" A group of more than 20 dolphins were just feet from the boat jumping in and out the waves so close we could almost touch them; it was the most incredible experience to witness such amazing animals in the wild especially without expecting it to happen. Our day was made already and it wasn't even 10am. When we got to our spot in Tayrona it was gorgeous - a tiny rocky bay perfect for snorkelling, a hut on the cliff with hammocks looking out to sea and a little cafe where we could get fresh fish at the end of the day. I even managed to drag Arthur on another trekking adventure over the cliffs to find a secret beach.
The next day Arthur lazed on his new lilo in the pool and we took a few strolls round the town before enjoying some lush iced coffees, mango smoothies, and slushies whilst watching the gorgeous sparkling sea view from our deckchairs in the shade of the trees. Taganga is a lazy place! In the evening we actually put some shoes on and went to Pachamama for a tapas dinner and happy hour cocktail fun.
The next day we were forced to leave as for some reason I had a flight booked home. Our bus to Bogota was late leaving as all the drivers and passengers were watching a Colombian football match in the bus station. This sparked some mild panic as my flight was the next evening and the bus was around 18 to 24 hours. Nice and specific. It was however the most beautiful bus ride I had been on the whole trip. We drove endlessly through villages, mountains, jungle, rivers and fields before climbing through the clouds almost to Bogota in the Andes. Then we hit a huge traffic jam that had us stopped for over an hour - that mild panic came back again! We arrived in plenty of time though and caught a taxi to La Calanderia, the central area of Bogota which has a contradictory feel - nice, with squares and cobbled streets, but with a graffitied sort of dark edge. I took advantage of Arthur's hostel and showered and packed while he played guitar before saying a tearful goodbye to Colombia and South America and caught my flight home.
Fin.
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