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Published: June 23rd 2008
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We got off our overnight bus from Medillin to Cartagena and got a taxi to the main plaza, Plaza Santo Domingo, in the old town of Cartagena. The old town is easy to recognise as it´s the first part that doesn´t look like a shanty town. Niamh sat down for a coffee and minded the bags while I headed off with the assistance of one of the locals looking for a room for a few nights. The idea being he takes me to places where he´ll get a commission if I take a room. Unfortunately it was a public holiday weekend so the place was busy and our budget was below anything he showed me so it was back to Niamh in the plaza for breakfast.
After that it was Niamh´s turn to go looking for a room while I stayed with the bags. Back she comes, beaming after only a few minutes, having found what I was told was a perfect place in the heart of the Old Town, with a big clean room and private bathroom, and well within budget at about E10 per night. It wasn´t till I got there that some of the minor details were
noticed. Yes it was indeed E10 per night, but you could also book by the hour. Niamh had booked us into a love hotel or knocking shop, depending on your frame of mind. The next detail missed was the room decor. Don´t know how you´d miss it, but Niamh did. There on the wall facing you as you entered the room were 2 off 1000mm x 600mm posters of scantily clad women. Now, don´t get me wrong, I thought they were very arty, but was just surprised that Niamh hadn´t noticed. Minor detail number 3 was the calendar on the reception desk. When was the last time any of you booked into a hotel with a calendar for "Anal-ese Lubrication" on the front desk. Still at least the women/Madames were very friendly.
Outside the confines of our salubrious habitacion, is Cartagena. A walled colonial city sitting on the Caribbean coast of Colombia, and pretty much perfectly maintained/restored from its heyday back in the 16th and 17th centuries. Have a look at the pictures if you want to see what it´s all about but it is a beautiful place slightly spoiled by the hassle from street hawkers. All we did
was wander the streets for a few days then head to Taganga.
Taganga is a little fishing village about 4 hours east along the coast from Cartagena, and just a few km´s from the city of Santa Marta. First impressions weren´t good. The place was thronged with backpackers and the streets strewn with litter. Pretty much the complete opposite of everywhere else we had been in Colombia. So rather than hang around we booked ourselves on a 6 day trek leaving the next day to Ciudad Perdida, The Lost City (separate blog).
When we got back from that the place actually started to grow on us. We went out for a few beers and dinner with our fellow trekkers that night. After I had retired, Niamh met the Godfather of Tagangan music, Rolando Sanchez himself. Next night and while having a few beers on the beach with the trekkers again, along came Rolando with a few other musicians. Seen as we were all leaving the next day Rolando insisted we couldn´t leave Taganga without a show. So with Rolando leading the charge to Mojito, a local watering hole, we were then treated to an imprompto gig for the
next 3 hours. It was only when we started hearing songs for the 3rd time that we figured it was time to leave. Thankfully the musicians seemed to have had enough as well so we all headed to Taganga´s finest and only nightclub, El Garaje. Great night had by all.
Next day and a few hours later than originally planned due to El Garaje induced hangovers and we were off again. This time into Tayrona National Park (also separate blog) that borders Taganga for 5 nights. When we got back to Taganga after this I´d go as far as saying I liked the place. This time we booked ourselves into a beach front place with a balcony overlooking the bay for our last few days on the Carribean coast. Then we just spent the next few days working on our tans before we go home so as we look like we´ve been away. When not lying on the beach we did a bit of scuba diving on the surrounding coral reef. Not great diving but good all the same. The more diving I do outside Australia the more I realise how spoiled we were with the diving in Australia.
Wonder how Dublin Bay diving will compare?
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