Colombia: Beauty reigns supreme in Cartagena

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After our time spent there, we were all more than ready to leave Venezuela and head for the much anticipated Colombia. Having already changed as much currency on the black market upon entry to Venezuela, we had already increased our spending power there (getting nearly double the "official" rate), however we were duly shafted upon leaving, emphasized by their substantial hike (300%!!!) in departure tax for exiting the country. Furthermore, with the current bleak state of the Mighty Dollar, no-one would accept them for love nor money, posing some probs to those who had only enough currency for the supposed exit fee. Thankfully Billy, Jude and myself had enough currency to feed an army so were able to sort the others out, although trying to explain to our Japanese contingent, Takuya that the exchange would NOT take his pocketful of change turned into something of an ordeal for the equivalent of about 50p!

Immediately after crossing the border into Cucuta there was a tangibly different feel in the air, people seemingly more welcoming towards us and there generally being more of a sense of fun among the populous. Even just driving down the street, a carload of tasty ladies were flirting with me, driving to keep pace with the truck, and were actually following us until their lane turned off to the left! Staying in a very fancy looking hotel, we were due up early the next morning to catch our first flight, so we had a fairly early evening with some fantastic street chicken and fruit juice before heading back to the hotel to sample a couple of the local brews. As this was our last night on the truck, everything needed claiming from it - after this I ended up staying up nearly all night repacking my bag and getting rid of any erroneous clothing.

Bright and early we rocked up to the airport, saying goodbye to our driver Euan and took our first flight down to Bogota for a brief stopover en route to our final destination, the glorious coastal colonial city of Cartagena. Touching down in the baking heat, we were taken by private transfer to our hotel for the next few days, set in the heart of the new town and a mere block away from the beach. far be it from me to complain about a hotel with a bar outside where we could sit and enjoy the sun, the only mild irritation arose from the countless street sellers hawking everything from "genuine" Oakleys and Cohibas to paintings, watches and everything else in between. A leisurely afternoon of enjoying beers was complemented later in the evening with a wander into the old town with the boys (Mark, Scott and Takuya). Stepping into the Hard Rock Cafe, we were treated to some an excellent food, with me enjoying the largest plate of ribs I have ever seen, so substantial that half of it was left untouched, washed down with a couple of Hurricanes (not a patch on New Orleans mind) and some great covers from the band for the evening. Absolutely stuffed, we waddled out to the main square for a couple more drinks while enjoying the local entertainment, some traditional Caribbean street dance before moving on into a nearby salsa club for a late night of fleet foot work dancing to the local rhythms into the early hours.

The next morning heralded another beautiful day so Takuya and I wandered off via McDonald's for a speedy breakfast and then on to explore the beautiful architecture of the old town. Cartagena was founded in the 16th Century by Spanish commander Pedro de Heredia, quickly becoming a very important trading port for the New World and as such also a big target for pirates, including Sir Francis Drake. In response to repeated lootings, a massive collection of forts and walls were built over the course of over 200 years to surround the city and protect it from further onslaught. The city's finest hour was the Battle of Cartagena, where, under the leadership of Blas de Lezo, a one eyed, legged and armed Spanish admiral with only 6 ships under his command, the city managed to fend off a British onslaught of 186 ships. Today a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the old town remains one of the best existing examples of colonial architecture and is a veritable step back in time to a bygone era.

Fuelled by some freshly squeezed local juices, we spent a good part of the day exploring the town on foot before retiring to the hotel for a little rest before our planned evening's entertainment, a chicha bus tour of the city. Essentially a neon emblazoned party bus catering for the large numbers of tourists the city attracts, we were whisked along around the city during the early night hours. Fuelled by aguadiente, the local anise-flavoured firewater, occasionally jumping off for some (admittedly rather touristy but nonetheless fun) pit stops along the way, we got the chance to hold a baby sloth (adorable) and do yet some more salsa dancing (never a bad thing). Chatting to a lovely Colombian family in both Spanish and English, our evening passed very quickly and ended up with us heading back into town for another bout of drinking in the clubbing district.

Things started well at a German themed pub, serving steins of most non Colombian brews, where we felt compelled to stay for a little while before moving on to the next venue just up the strip. This was much less exciting, with us ending up buying a bottle of rum to consume between two of us (Takuya's not really a big drinker and Scotty had gone home by this time!) as the only other people in the bar were a few Colombian ladies (for hire) who were looking expectantly at any man entering the bar. We polished off the rum and moved on to the next bar, a much better affair, but after a couple more drinks the long day took its toll on Takuya and me, so we retired leaving Andy to party the night away.

The following day was similarly action packed with a boat trip out around the Caribbean coastline, passing the notorious Pablo Escobar's former mansion on its own island. More on him later. En route we stopped off at an aquarium on its own island, seeing a fantastic selection of local marine life from sharks to barracuda, rays, turtles, dolphins and a host of other wonderful sea creatures in a pretty natural setting. After a speedy hour spent here, sustained by some delicious ceviche, raw fish marinated in lime juice (the acid in the juice "cooks" the fish), we got back on the boat and jetted over to the Rosario Islands, disembarking at Playa Blanca.

Cartagena is touristy, and it shows here, where boat cruises come for the day, people are rushed ashore for a speedy, very indifferent lunch and are constantly hassled by local touts. That said, it definitely has its charms, as a fantastic beach massage by a very attractive local lady afterwards attested! No sooner had I rinsed the sand off in the gloriously warm azure waters along the beach, it was time to board the boat once more and shoot off to the next destination, another colonial fort. Eventually arriving back on land, somewhat tired from being on the water for the most part of the day, a mild siesta would have been nice, however time didn't permit, in between running to the beach for hot sunset action, before a group meal at a nearby local restaurant. I had the speciality, chicharron, loosely translated on the menu as "fat back", a seasoned pork rind based food that was quite nice (think crackling with extra meat) washed down with a very passable mojito. As everyone was fairly worn out from a day of sea air, we enjoyed a relatively quiet night of beers in front of the hotel.

Our final day in Cartagena was a fairly slow paced affair, taking the time to explore the local area and beaches of Bocagrande, interspersed with a lot of catching up on the internet then a trip to the cinema and squeezing in some dinner (a very speedy pizza with Takuya actually pushing the waitress into the kitchen to speed up the process!!) before reconvening at the hotel for a talk on the coming days' activities. We all retired for a couple of hours before I headed out into town with the boys to explore the old part of the town more by night. After a ridiculously expensive drink at one of "the" plazas, we decided to head back to more familiar haunts, ending up back at the salsa bar from the first night where we stayed for the duration of two bottles of rum (sadly just between Andy and myself - not a good start!). Moving on in search of livelier venues, we found a club where we ended up dancing for some time before finding our own ways back to the hotel at various ridiculous hours.

An early start was called for the next day as we were leaving for our next destination, Santa Marta, and being somewhat bleary eyed (due to entertaining, I hadn't actually got any sleep), bag packing was a very hasty process, making it down to the minibus with minutes to spare. Having thought I was in a bad way it was refreshing to see Andy virtually crawl onto the bus (still drunk - he had only stopped drinking an hour beforehand!) to slow applause from everyone else. Thankfully the bus ride was fairly short, under 4 hours, giving me some time to try and rehumanise myself with much fruit juice and crackers, sobering up for the next thrilling instalment, coming soon to a travel blog near you....

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