Bienvenidos a Cartagena de Indias (pt.1)

It is a fairly hefty bus ride from Medellin up to Cartagena, 13 hours or so. On route we have the worst meal consumed in South America - fish soup with eyes and bones followed by a chicken-wing with the consistency of concrete. We [Helene, Marie, Mauricio, James & I] arrive late and Luis, the night receptionist isn't sure whether they have beds for us. We sleepily grab a sandwich across the road, return and after some rearranging we have somewhere to rest our weary heads. We have a rather goose-pimpled night of sleep as the fierce AC blasts around the room. We are staying at North Star Backpackers hostel in Bocagrande.

North Star backpackers hostel

Bocagrande (meaning 'big mouth') is the most modern and one of the wealthiest areas of the city, a good place to be based. The next morning we take a stroll around - the streets are attractive and the area is laden with restaurants, bars, shops and coffee-shops. We are also right beside a beach (but it is not the nicest beach around).

Bocagrande

I have given North Star's address to Fed-Ex with the hope that they will manage to transport my new bank cards from my Mum's kitchen table in Ireland to Cartagena. One of my debit cards has been 'accidentally' cancelled by HSBC, and by 'back-up' card does not work in Columbia! Luckily my trusty friends are ensuring that I don't starve or go without a bed ;-)

After a quick stroll around we get a boat to Playa Blanca (a much nicer beach, 40 minutes by boat). It takes a long time to organise the boat. At one point we have about 10 guys each trying to drag us on their boat! We walk away many times, visit both harbours and eventually find a decent looking boat at the price we want...it is a bumpy ride across to Playa Blanca but we seem to be in capable hands.

Our chosen driver

I have not seen the sea since Ushuaia, the southern tip of Argentina - I have travelled from toe to tip of the continent!

Marie enjoys the boat trip between bumps!

It really is a beautiful beach. The water is clear, turquoise and the sand is white. The (only) bad element is the hawkers, who harass at every opportunity - selling all kinds of junk. We get an amazing massage, and have a lovely few hours relaxing.

I have arrived in paradise, at last!

Playa Blanca

We relax until James gets talking to a group of Colombians who invite us over for a chat and entertainment. After a beer and a few shots of rum, James and I are singing Irish songs (from Christy Moore to Van Morrison) and organising a céilidh (Irish dance session). Within minutes there are about 20 Colombians dancing the 'Walls of Limerick' under the blistering sun! Time to swap around, it's time for us to practice our salsa and reggaeton. Those of you familiar with reggaeton dancing can imagine how hilarious (ridiculous) we look! We keep dancing until our boat captain calls us aboard. It is an even bumpier ride back to Bocagrande now that the wind has picked up (and we have the bruises to show later!).

Colombia meets Ireland in a dance-off!!

We have an delicious dinner in an Argentine steakhouse - bringing back many happy memories from January. Back to the hostel, we relax on the terrace at the hostel until Pedro, the owner, invites us to a place called Donde Fidel, a salsa bar in the Old City.

Mauricio & Helene relaxing at North Star

Sitting outside amidst the beautiful buildings is fantastic - I instantly fall in love with the place - charming, beautiful and embedded in history. Continuing with the dancing theme, I get some lessons in salsa and rumba from Pedro. At first, I feel self-conscious in front of all the locals but after a few words of encouragement I let go! Later our ever-increasing group wander to Tu Candela, a nearby club. Here in Columbia the club-culture is very different; people go our in couples and dance with their partners - salsa, merengue, rumba or what ever takes their fancy. Despite this couple structure, eyes wander and comments are whispered. From what I gather neither the men or the women are faithful. Girls rarely go out alone (unless they are prostitutes - whom are equally abundant as the drug dealers in this city). It is a fun place, the music is good. The after-party continues back at the hostel until the wee-small hours. Which is all well and good until I realise I have an hour until my bus leaves for Taganga - a fishing town further along the Caribbean coast. Sensibly the Norwegians went to bed before midnight, and are looking fresh as daisies! Never mind, the bus has air-conditioning and my seat is comfortable so I put on my sunglasses and prepare for a four-hour snooze.