Hace Calor en Cartagena

It had been reported that Cartagena was the most beautiful city in all of South America. However, when the bus rumbled in from Tolu I had to confirm I was in the right place. There was nothing beautiful at all about the city I was arriving in. Not only was it not beautiful, it was the dirtiest city I'd seen in Colombia to date.

Fortunately, the bus terminal is a good 45 minutes outside of the city & as the local bus rattled on closer to the walled city I could see much promise. Or, so I thought.

The driver motioned that the chaotic intersection we were at was my stop. Not exactly sure where I was going & a bit apprehensive about diving into the boiling mix of dust, pedestrians, metal & blaring horns... I froze still for a moment to get my focus & then just dove in off the bus & out into the mayhem. The driver had pointed in a vague direction somewhere beyond the worst of the sonic mess, so I just kept moving in that general direction until I was free from most of the vehicular traffic.

The people in this general area did not look like you'd want to linger too terribly long, so I just asked the first shirtless Caribbean character who made eye contact with me where the street was I was looking for. He looked thrilled I'd engaged in conversation with him as if he'd landed a fresh catch. As he jumped up & moved closer to me, I just kept moving while talking in case I'd need to flee in a hurry. Something didn't feel right & then an older man appeared from one of the tiendas & shoved the Caribbean character backwards and quickly moved between us. He pointed toward the next corner & yelled out, "The street you are looking for is there! Don't stop & keep moving quickly!" as he once again pushed the first fellow back as if to protect me. Whoa! I thought this was supposed to be the safest city in Colombia?!

After two more character advances, I found the address of the hostel & got quickly buzzed in from the street. It was momentarily a relief to be off the street until the first wave of sticky stifling heat passed over me. It was actually hotter inside the hostel than outside with no air movement at all. It was going to have to suffice as I was definitely not going to go back out onto the street hostel shopping.

The clerk wasn't the friendliest, but she assured me that the entire area was perfectly safe, especially the walled city where most of the police were. Contrary to the hard evidence I'd seen, I decided to just let down my guard & trust she was telling me the truth as I dropped my pack & set back out into the street to begin my exploration of Cartagena de Los Indios.

The walled portion of the city was heavily patrolled by police & easy to relax a bit until the swarm of street vendors descended upon me. So much for relaxing in a romantic Caribbean setting.

Although the walled touristy area is very lovely & rich with color, texture & wonderful facades, it also has this faux quality that's hard to describe. It's as if it were converted from original source architecture, but refined, polished & massaged to be pleasing enough to discerning tourists... that at times it feels like you're in a staged Disney attraction. That being said, Cartagena is indeed a magnificent pleasure to wander around making images in & I'm guessing a delightful place to fine dine & go shopping if you're into that sort of thing.

Strolling the ramparts and staring out toward the sea is mesmerizing as the salty breeze infiltrates your senses & begins to carry your imagination out of the city & toward places out of time & lost in history. That was just the ticket until the first hardened hooker called toward me competing with one even more harsh for my attention. Ah! I was back in the area near my hostel! Time to watch my back again & try to look like I knew what I was doing & where I was going.

Although it was a tall order to relax in this place, I can see how an enchanted muse could be easily caught in this city given enough time to learn what to watch out for. However, the hard evidence was that the girl in the bunk above mine had been robbed, another backpacker was jumped right in the street in front of the hostel as he wrestled & punched to keep a character from ripping his watch off his wrist & another English fellow in the bunk next to mine claimed to have been kidnapped for the entire day & forced to do cocaine, whiskey shots & something about an 18 year old stripper. Though his story wasn't even remotely plausible, he likely was a victim of some sort even if he'd foolishly asked for it. So much for the safest city in Colombia!

After the electricity went out in the middle of the night, shutting off my little fan that was the only barrier between laying in a puddle of sweat & possibly sleeping a bit... and after the water was shut off for 30 hours I'd be lying if I said I was leaning toward lingering in this steaming Hell hole.

After the police finished questioning the English chap who'd allegedly been kidnapped & he & his friends had planned their AM escape, finally my dorm bed was freed back up & I could at least dream of a decent night's sleep. I began wondering if perhaps that extra couple of days I'd planned on spending in Cartagena could be spent elsewhere.

When I found myself dodging off into some local pub called Tienda El Che, run by a pudgy Colombian dude in a Che beret... just to disappear off the street for awhile & consume enough cervezas so that I wouldn't care for awhile. And, after finally feeling something resembling peace in a crumbling old Cartagena cemetery, I decided it was time to start planning my AM escape as well.

Hammock camping in the juggle park of Tayrona with its gorgeous beaches & exotic lost city treks was most certainly calling my name now. I'd heard the scruffy fishing beach barrio called Taganga has been plagued by backpacker drug culture & machete muggings over the last few months, but still allegedly the easiest jumping off point for Tayrona. I selected a hostel that offered swimming pool access & wondered how bad could it be? Taganga here I come. :)