Santa Marta, Colombia (Jan. 5-10, 2018)


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South America » Colombia » Santa Marta
January 8th 2018
Published: April 2nd 2022
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Santa Marta

I stayed a Hostel Mangoes. It wasn't very welcoming. I had the dorm room to myself. The shower was pretty side alley next to the house with cheap wall coverings. I didn't feel very comfortable taking shower there, but did it anyways. The people that worked there were not very friendly. Except for the girl and the darker guy with tattoos. I had great seafood stew. It reminded me of Gumbo.



Minca

I visited Minca for a couple of days. I didn't book a hostel and just simply followed the road after the shuttle dropped me off. It was hot and I had all my equipment on me. For some reason I keep pushing forward, not knowing whether there would be anything ahead. Then to my surprised I noticed a small sign on the road with "Minca Glamping" on it. I following the direction in which the sign directed. The small hill was muddy from the rain. Within the tamed lush surrounding emerged some cottages. I followed the foot path that led me to the living room/kitchen. I was greeted by a man with a French accent. His name was Max. With him was a younger female Colombian of tan complexion. There was also a middle aged woman of tan complexion with them as well. They were startled by my emergence, but friendly. My inquiry for a place to camp was initial denied, until the younger woman persuade with Max that there was a small area where I could set up. We discussed the terms and I head out to set up my tent. I rested for a bit after my tent was set up.

The people at the guesthouse were a family. Max and his wife and her mother. They had just opened up the guesthouse. Max had met his wife in Santa Marta, at an ice cream shop where she'd worked. He was on vacation. He was burned out from his snack selling business on the beach of Southern France. He recounted his rift with his business partners. He came back to Colombian to marry his wife. They tried living in France, but eventually decided to move back to Santa Marta. His wife was the granddaughter of a Cumbia pioneer.

I was the only guest during my stay. It seemed like I was one of the few. They were sadden during my departure. I noticed tears in Max's eyes. That when I realized that they were new at this. Max showed me around his plot of land. We bird watched and visited his neighbor, whom had a Keel Billed Toucan. I decided to cook a Vietnamese meal for them, which consisted of Ca Kho and Canh Ca. Their eyes lit up when I told them. I'd never seen anyone so excited and appreciative of a simple act. It warmed my heart. Max procured my requested ingredients. I had to make some adjustments, since there weren't any fish sauce around. It was a lovely dinner, one of which I'll never forget. We discussed the possibility of me coming back in a couple of days for my birthday, but I didn't want to have to deal with another heartbreaking goodbye. So, I kept moving and didn't look back....



Mendihuaca

Was my one day/night pit stop along the Caribbean coast. I missed my stop and had to walk a bit looking for accommodation. I had a simple lunch at a local eatery. I believe it was rice and fish or something like that. I stayed a Mendihuaca surf house and camped out on the beach. It was beautiful.


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