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Monthly Archives: August 2014

The Road to Guane with Kwame

25 Monday Aug 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Hikes, Villages

Me and Kwame, arriving in Barichara

Me and Kwame, arriving in Barichara

So it’s been a few weeks since I last wrote.  For which I apologize…I’ve been a bit distracted.  You see, I met someone.  And I’ve just spent the last 3 weeks traveling with him and spending the time with someone is not conducive to staying on top of one’s travel blog!  However, I find myself now sitting in my hostel in Bogota, only a few hours’ away from leaving for the airport and my flight back home to the States (which I changed for the 3rd time after meeting my travel companion extraordinaire.)  And I want to stay committed to documenting for myself and my readers the last and most incredible part of my three month journey here in South America.

In order to do that, however, I will have to continue writing once I’ve returned home to my little townhouse in Kirkland.  I do hope I’ll have the strength and courage to do so, given the extremely mixed feelings I have about my return to the US.

I last left you in Santa Marta after I’d returned from my epic 5 day hiking adventure in the Lost City and Tayrona National Park.  I had a blissful day of doing absolutely nothing the following day at Drop Bear Hostel.  I was going to be heading south and it turned out that the best way to get to San Gil was by night bus – which left me with one more free day on the Caribbean coast before I could head south.

Barichara

Barichara

I elected to go river tubing in Palomino with four dudes from my dorm at the hostel.  It was a nice, chill day floating on the river through the jungle, working on my tan.  The only truly memorable moment, however, was when I left the boys who were about to grab a table for lunch to go rinse my feet of sand from the beach.  Upon my return, they were nowhere to be seen.  They had my change of clothes and my wallet.

After about 30 minutes of walking up and down the beach getting more and more stressed by the moment, one of the locals on motorcycle who’d taken us up river turned up explaining that the guys had returned to the main road for lunch and had been looking for me!  I was not happy when I ran into them, having to return to the center of town in my bikini.  I let them know how pissed I was – which didn’t make me too popular, but I didn’t care.

The last bus back to Santa Marta took about 2 hours longer than the bus we’d taken in the morning.  It ended up being a massive panic, shower, and packing session for me to make it to the bus station in time, only to discover, of course, that the hostel had given me wrong bus times and I actually had a full hour to chill and relax before my bus left for Bucaramanga!  Grrrr.

IMG_0801I slept quite well on the bus that wasn’t too air conditioned and only contained one Colombian who took it upon himself to ensure that his music collection was shared with the entire bus load of people at 1′ o clock in the morning.  Incidentally, this is not an isolated experience….a LOT of Colombians have never heard of headphones.  Store owners put out speakers, the bigger and louder the better, sometimes as early as 7am and blast their latest taste in music, usually consisting of some form of accordion, to the entire town.  This is starting to drive me to despair.

I managed to get a good transfer in Buca and arrived in San Gil around 11:30 in the morning.  I checked into the Macondo Hostel which had been recommended to me by the folks at Drop Bear.  It seemed disturbingly empty.  I was informed later in the day, after I’d had an amazing burrito lunch at Mike’s (a staple food establishment in San Gil) that I was the only person staying in the hostel.  What the hell?  When I asked why that was, I was given some bullshit answer about how it was low season and everyone had left for Medellin’s flower festival.  Which I found very suspicious because I immediately went to check on the other hostel in town, Sam’s VIP, which was just off the main town square, and found out that they were full except for one dorm bed that was available.

Hiking El Camino Real

Hiking El Camino Real

Heading back to my hostel, I decided I would pack up my things and move to the hostel that actually had people in it, when an incredible storm with a massive downpour, thunder and lightning, put a curve ball in my plans.  I ended up spending the afternoon in the hammock, until the thunder actually got so loud that I ran upstairs to sit with the receptionist as I actually felt afraid to be downstairs on my own.

That night ended up being the worst of my entire trip.  I felt so alone and lonely…the first being actually true.  I cried and wrote to people on Facebook, called Giovanna and my sister and contemplated just going home.  But that made me feel even worse.  I was so mad that I didn’t even have the option of connecting with anyone at this stupid hostel.  I decided I would just move in the morning, it was getting too late to lug all my stuff across town tonight.  After the rain stopped, I forced myself to get up and go find a bar and console myself with a nice glass of wine.  After passing through several establishments that were all empty, I found a table at Sam’s Pub and was certain that it would soon fill up with a typical Saturday night crowd.  However, I managed to get through two glasses and a steak without a single soul entering the pub.

Beautiful countryside

Beautiful countryside

The owners explained that people didn’t go out in San Gil if it was raining. I felt like such a loser as I wandered around town for an hour after dinner trying to convince myself that I would find a place to sit out the evening where I wasn’t just by myself.  But no such place materialized and I returned to my empty hostel and cried myself to sleep.

This is all the more interesting to recall as my fate was about to do an 180 degree turn and life was about to slap me across the face in the most beautiful way imaginable.  I got up early the next morning as I’d decided to go explore one of the caves in the San Gil area – Cueva de Vaca.  I had to grab a local bus at 9am, so I was very reluctant to get up early, pack, and lug my bags over to the other hostel.  When I was told that the hostel wasn’t going to make coffee “for only 1 guest” – I decided enough was enough and I was going to move.  Luckily, Sam’s VIP still had one dorm bed available and I could check in later after my visit to the cave.

Arriving in Guane

Arriving in Guane

As I dumped my bags behind reception, I noticed a beautiful black man working away on his laptop at the table in the common area.  He greeted me with a giant smile and emanated the most positive and warm energy.  We chatted briefly as he mentioned he’d already visited the Cueva I was going to.  He had been in San Gil for a few weeks’ now.  I immediately asked him if he’d like to join me that afternoon on the El Camino walk from Barichara to Guane?  He seemed so warm and affable, something told me we’d get along and have a good time together.  He agreed to consider it and told me to come find him when I got back from the cave.  I asked his name. “Kwame” he said.  “Where are you from?” I asked.  “Guess?!”  I correctly guessed the Caribbean after first suggesting the UK.  Then I went through about six different islands before he stopped me and explained that he was from Trinidad and Tobago.

Cool. The first person I’ve ever met from that island country.

Start of the hike

Start of the hike

Off I went and thoroughly enjoyed my morning traipsing through the pitch black darkness of Cueva de Vaca.  Of the cave descriptions I’d read, they carefully omitted the bit of information regarding needing to walk through a long tunnel for several minutes bent over in two, AND the need to completely submerge and swim through a short passage of cold, muddy water.  I’m not sure I would have gone had I known!  It was quite the adventure and the formations inside the limestone cave were well worth the visit.

I arrived back to Sam’s around lunchtime and quite hungry.  Kwame was still sat in the same spot and with a bit of encouragement, agreed to pack up and come have some lunch with me before grabbing the bus to Barichara.

Our connection was instant and we soon fell into a day long conversation of sharing our life stories, and laughing a lot.  We giggled on the bus to Barichara, which I instantly fell in love with.  It is a gorgeous colonial little town that used to be the capital of Colombia and is now home to artists and rich Colombians who can afford the lavish real estate.  I soon discovered that Kwame had a huge sweet tooth as we started the afternoon off right with cappuccinos and giant slices of cake…despite being full from lunch.

Kwame in Guance

Kwame in Guance

We look like quite a pair and talking to Kwame while walking is quite a task as he’s over 6 ft 5 inches tall.  A very tall, very attractive Trinidadian.  Not someone I’d expected to meet and click with.  Starting our hike together, I realized very soon that I was engrossed in our conversation so much that I wasn’t paying as much attention to the stunning countryside and the storm clouds that were brewing in the distance.

It was a perfect, warm and cozy afternoon’s walk with great company.

On arrival in Guane, we both swooned over how cute the little village was.  I fell about laughing as Kwame immediately enquired as to “Donde hay cervezas?” to a store owner and we happily settled in the town square on a park bench sharing beers and more conversation.  Luckily, the bus arrived to take us back to San Gil right as the heavens opened and the rain began pelting down.  We immediately made plans to grab take out upon our return and hunt down a decent bottle of red wine, which is a hard task in a non-wine friendly country like Colombia.

I’d found a kindred spirit in Kwame, in Guane.

Lost City and Paradise Found In Tayrona – Part II

12 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Beaches, Hikes

Hiking in to Tayrona

Hiking in to Tayrona

I last left you jumping off the bus on my return journey to Santa Marta after completing the Lost City jungle trek.  I was tired, sweaty, hot, and without adequate cash or ID to get into Tayrona National Park.  I was winging it, big time.

Fortunately, I at least had my PADI Open Water ID card on me.  I have no idea why.  I managed to bs my way through the identification checkpoint with the police and the park entrance security and secured my seat on a small minivan that would take folks to the trail head for the hour or so walk I had into the park to the first camping area, Arrecifes.

The beach at Arrecifes

The beach at Arrecifes

I was feeling elated at my decision to add this adventure to my Lost City trek.  I told myself that it would just be a little more effort before I could be showered and resting in a nice hammock on the beach.  Everyone had said that the hike itself was completely flat, so how hard could it be?

I soon adopted a new little group of travelers: a Belgian, a Turk, and a Croat (I actually don’t remember their names…this happens a lot when you’re traveling.  Sometimes, you can meet a person and talk with them for days before asking their name) who I convinced to take the shuttle with me to the trailhead.  It was already the magic hour and I pointed out that if they walked, they wouldn’t make it to Arrecifes by nightfall.

Sunset

Sunset

The hike itself ended up being a little more challenging than I had expected.  The views made up for it though.  The beaches, with the sky turning golden at dusk, fringed with palms and rocks out to sea – was breathtaking.  We found a lump of ice, discarded on the trail, strangely, and got some fun pics wiping ourselves down with it.  We were also lucky enough to spot a Capybara running across the trail, it was just too quick to catch a photo of it.

On arrival at Arrecifes, we were relieved to find a “backpacker” type campsite next to the rather fancy site that was charging 400,000 pesos for cabins.  We secured 4 hammocks for 13,000 each (about 7 bucks) grabbed some cold beers and headed to Arrecifes beach to catch the sunset.

Hammocks!

Hammocks!

It was spectacular and I was giddy with delight at being there.

After a cold shower and a delicious meal of garlic prawns and coconut rice, I was so ready for sleep and excited/nervous about my very first entire night’s sleep in a hammock.

It was surprisingly comfortable, and I was soon fast asleep.

The following day I awoke early and eager to press on for another hour’s walk to Cabo San Juan – the quintessential “paradise photo” tropical beach.  So, as my friends were just stirring from their sleep, I’d already dressed and breakfasted and promised to meet up with them once they got there.

Beach at Cabo San Juan

Beach at Cabo San Juan

Off I set down the beach enjoying the wonderful breeze and eager to get in the ocean (the beach at Arrecifes was too dangerous for swimming)  When I arrived, I was quite impressed with the beauty.  The sand was white, the surf a sapphire blue, and everywhere you looked, gringoes were frying themselves in the sun with something fruity to drink in their hands.

I laid out for hours, alternating reading my book with taking swims in the ocean.  My friends’ never showed (?!!) so I made some new ones under the cabana while ordering some lunch.  Thankfully, a couple of guys acquiesced to my paying for their meal on my credit card, allowing me to get some needed cash for my bus ride home.

Cabo San Juan

Cabo San Juan

IMG_0774 IMG_0780Around 3pm, I decided it was time to hike out.  Not ever being one for the easy option, I elected to hike up and over the mountain ridge to an alternate “entrance” on the main highway, instead of simply following my route in to the park.

Asking several personnel about how far this hike was, I quickly rejected all answers as they bordered upon the absurd therefore rendering them pointless to consideration.  One man at the “Information” counter stated that it was at least 4 and a 1/2 hours to the other entrance, but when I enquired as to how many kilometres it was, he stated “around 30”.

Yeah, he was smart.

So, off I set with a vague hope that the guy had vastly overestimated the time, or else I’d be hiking out of the jungle alone in the dark.  I second-guessed my decision a couple of times, and then followed the signs to Pueblito.

Pueblito was like a mini-Lost City.  Some ancient ruins of the Tayrona people.  The trail getting here is at least sign-posted and was quite hairy, involving lots of scrambling over massive boulders.  I was absolutely and completely drenched with my own foul sweat.  I was disgusting.  And it was so hot.

But  I was loving it, and there was no-one on the trail with me.

A short way into the hike I spotted a poison-dart frog.  It was exciting because I’ve only ever seen these super brightly colored amphibians at the aquarium before.

A little later on my heart stopped and came up into my throat as I heard blood curdling animal screaming….what could only be two large mammals attacking one another.

And they were close – whatever it was, was within 50 feet of where I was standing.

What the hell was it?  My pulse quickened as I grabbed at a long branch thinking it might offer some protection should this vicious animal choose to turn its anger upon me, while simultaneously cursing myself for choosing to embark upon this solitary traipse through the Colombian jungle at near nightfall.

Pueblito

Pueblito

Just then, a capuchin monkey appeared overhead.  This one was tiny but it did let out a little cry which leads me to conclude that the raucous I was hearing was indeed monkeys.  I pressed on, quickly.

The hike just kept going and going and the hour was getting later and later.  I have to say, I was feeling a little nervous and foolish.  What if I twisted my ankle?  I’d have to spend the night alone here in the jungle.  I treaded carefully, passing several indigenous villages before, at long last, I heard traffic coming from the main highway.

I was safe.

Almost immediately upon emerging, I flagged down a bus heading to Santa Marta.  Initially relieved by the freezing air conditioning, I soon realized that I was going to catch my death if I didn’t change my shirt immediately as I was soaked to the skin.  Luckily I had my long sleeve night shirt to hand and I strategically switched and tried in vain to curl up in my ice cold seat.

I thought my adventure was over, but alas, it had only just begun.  This bus was actually bound for Baranquilla and dropped me off at some non-descript location with an equally non-descript shouted instruction to get on another bus with the Colombian classic “Por A Ca!”

I got on this bus and asked if it went to the centre of town which was responded to with the typical mumble and head shake and subsequent general ignoring.  I was not recognizing anything that we were passing,

Capuchin Monkey

Capuchin Monkey

I decided to get out and try my luck with just grabbing a cab.

It took nearly ten cab drivers to find one that knew where the “Drop Bear Hostel” was located.  I was so relieved and exhausted upon arrival that I didn’t even eat dinner.

It had been a great day.

The Lost City and Paradise Found in Tayrona – Part I

08 Friday Aug 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Archaeological Sites, Culture, Hikes, Trekking

Hot and Sweaty in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta

Hot and Sweaty in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta

Cartegena had prepared me somewhat for the temperatures and humidity of Santa Marta.  But I was about to embark on a 4 day trek in the jungle where I would find a new brand of suffering from the heat, one that had bugs, mosquito repellant, sunscreen and sweat all mixed into one disgusting mass that would cascade off one’s body in uncontrollable puddles.  In addition, 4 days of gross would not end up being enough for me and I sought more punishment by actually combining what is typically two trips into one – hiking through and staying in Tayrona on my return journey from Ciudad Perdida, aka The Lost City.

The actual Lost City is a set of archaeological ruins from a city built by the Tayrona people in approximately 800 AD.  It was only discovered in the 1970’s by a team of explorers searching the hills of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta in search of gold.  What has now been re-constructed is about 600 stone ‘platforms’ that formed the basis for their sacred city in the jungle.

Misty mountains in the morning

Misty mountains in the morning

There were at least 30 or so individuals starting the hike the same day I did, and it became quickly obvious that this was not going to be as easy from a physical standpoint as I had been expecting.  These were long, arduous uphill slogs, river crossings and often marching through clouds of thick dust that kicked up and coated your skin with white powder.  The vegetation was lush and beautiful and often gave way to impressive vistas of mountains covered in thick trees as far as the eye could see.

Our First Camp

Our First Camp

Along the trail, we encountered several villages of the indigenous people who still live in this valley – The Kogi.  Our guides talked us through the Kogi traditions and ways of life which were totally fascinating, albeit slightly disturbing as well.  These people still live in huts made from tree bark and all the men and women wear white dress-like garments and keep their hair long, only parted in the middle.  Sometimes it’s difficult to distinguish the males from the females except for their cultural trademarks: women wear multiple colorful beads, and the men carry a “mochilla’ – a colorful purse that contains their “gord” of power.

IMG_0637 IMG_0635

Kogi people and their villages

Kogi people and their villages

Gord of power? – you may ask.  Well, the Kogi men officially become so on their 18th birthdays.  At this time, they are brought to one of the Shamens of the village to receive their gord and instruction on how to use it.  Essentially, the hollow gord is used to mix crushed coca leaves with a type of sea shell powder that they then stick a type of spoon into, then lick, and continually do this from morning till night.  The powder and coca leaves combine to form a potent drug that keeps the men alert and full of vigor.  It is essentially one of the old processes that helped form the idea for cocaine production.

Jumping into a swimming hole

Jumping into a swimming hole

Oh!  The men at 18 also get to spend a few days with the Shamens’ wife and she teaches them the art of sex.  Which I think is actually a pretty cool tradition.  However, even after couples are married (very soon after this “induction”) they do not get to sleep in the same hut.  Women and men have their own huts and sleep separately.  All “relations” occur outside in the open where they can be blessed by Mother Earth.

And I’m sure Mother Earth also blesses with mosquito bites.

Beautiful Tree

Beautiful Tree

Unfortunately for them, the women are not allowed to partake of the coca leaf mixture, nor even the coca leaves themselves.  No, they must be content to do the work of growing the coca plants and harvesting them for the men.  And, of course, having lots of babies starting at the age of 15.  I saw so many young girls with babies strapped to their backs, fronts, and toddlers running in front of them.

So, yeah, fascinating culture to have the privilege of observing during our foray into the jungle.

IMG_0683

The Main Mirador over the city

The Main Mirador over the city

Each day we walked between four and seven hours and generally we had the chance to stop at a swimming hole for a refreshing dip both once during the hike, and then once we got to camp.  I usually was so hot and filthy that I just jumped in still wearing all of my clothes, happily walking in them still wet for hours after.

Each camp had stacks of bunks with mosquito nets and various quality of mattress ranging from “like sleeping on concrete” to “bowed in the middle”.  It was still a higher standard than I was expecting and since it was surprisingly cool in the evening, I was able to get a decent amount of sleep.

Camp with the bunk beds in the background

Camp with the bunk beds in the background

Evenings consisted of interpretive talks, socializing with the other travelers on the trek, and reading by headlamp.  It was a relaxing time, especially after a nice dip in the cold river.

Unfortunately, the morning of our climb up 1200 stairs to the Lost City itself, I found I had come down with yet another mystery virus/stomach bug.  I was proud that I made it up those damn steps, but once I got there, had very little energy for really taking in the monuments themselves.

The walk to our third camp that afternoon was very difficult.  I was throwing up and had a high fever and couldn’t keep food down.  But I still had to walk, and the walk was not easy.  Luckily, I’d learned the mind over matter technique that worked for me when I was really sick in Peru, and I at least didn’t have to contend with altitude on top of the heat and being ill.

IMG_0705

Other scenes from the trail

Other scenes from the trail

I awoke on our last day with an appetite and feeling far more like myself again.  The walk out was long but manageable and lunch awaiting us at our jeep pick-up point was well deserved.

IMG_0572I tried again to convince some of the others to jump out of the return vehicles and come with me directly to Tayrona, but unfortunately, people said they were too tired and nobody was feeling as adventurous as I was.

Beautiful Cartagena – Stepping back in time

02 Saturday Aug 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Cities, Food

The city wall

The city wall

I made a good decision by flying to Cartagena. It’s only a 45 minute flight that cost me $70 as opposed to a 13 hour bus ride that ends at a station nearly an hour’s cab ride outside the historic center.  I didn’t make a good decision, however, when it came to where I chose to spend the night.

I had followed the advice of my hostel owner in Medellin and booked an air-conditioned dorm at Mamallena’s for Wednesday and Thursday nights.  I hadn’t known that 1 – It’s one of the biggest party hostels in town and 2 – that Wednesdays, for some bizarre inexplicable reason, is the hottest night out, with the entire block of hostels and bars on the street offering an all-night party, beat pumping, techno disco-drunk fest.  Too late in the day to change upon my arrival, combined with the whompf of HEAT that one feels the moment you land here in the north of Colombia (writing this in San Gil, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for having escaped that triple digit 100% humidity hell) I figured it couldn’t be that bad – I had brought ear plugs after all.

City streets lit up at night

City streets lit up at night

I couldn’t have been more wrong.  Not only did my room face the main street, my bed was the bed closest to the wall that faced the street also. I barely got any sleep that night, with my bed practically shaking with the beat of the music.

I was eager to go explore the historic center during my first evening foray for food.  I met up with two girls at the hostel who were on their way to a restaurant called “Crepes and Waffles” (sounded right up my alley) incidentally one of whom was from Rushden, a town just a few miles from where I grew up in England.

IMG_1149I was immediately captivated by the ambience of the old city in the balmy (read: sweaty) evening.  It reminded me a lot of Havana, if Cuba had the money to invest in the upkeep of their historic buildings, roads and infrastructure.  Every road was a little alley promising romance and intrigue.  The balconies overflowed with flowers.  Couples snuggled in cozy horse-drawn carriages through plazas whose history included being one of the epicenters of the African slave trade hundreds of years ago.  Churches dotted everywhere, combined with candlelit outdoor cafes and restaurants adding to the charm of the place.   Live music emanated from several locations, notably from Bolivar plaza where an Afro-Caribbean dance concert was in full swing.

Playa Blanca

Playa Blanca

The prices for food and drinks soon tempered my enthusiasm temporarily.  They easily compared to those in the US.  But I had the most incredible meal of crab-stuffed salmon pancakes with a side of salad.  It hit the spot.

My new acquaintances were two very impressive ladies, who at the tender ages of 23 had volunteered in some of the most impoverished child orphanages and slums in the world, helping to establish or facilitate education programs.  I was fascinated to listen to their experiences of teaching in the slums of Mumbai.  The kids who were proud to show them their homes made from rotting trash.  We had a great conversation about what it might take to fight that kind of poverty in the world.  I could understand by the end of our conversation just why these girls found their Cartagena assignment to be rather “tame” and South America to not really offer much in the way of challenging travel.

Afro-Caribbean woman selling exotic fruits

Afro-Caribbean woman selling exotic fruits

After four days of walking through Medellin, their idea of taking the day tomorrow to head to Playa Blanca for a day of relaxation on a pristine white beach sounded like a great idea.  However, once we got there the next day, I was quite disappointed when I realized that it was a hawker infested beach.  How can one relax if you’re asked if you’re interested in buying bracelets every 8 minutes?  And when you say no, they each would ask us where we were from thinking that creating a false sense of intimacy was going to sell bracelets.

Additionally, the personality of the Canadian girl was beginning to grate.  She did not possess an inside voice and I could hear the details of each of her conversations from several hundred feet away.  On the bus ride back, when most sun-burned individuals were desperately trying to grab a quick 45 minute nap in the comfort of the air conditioned mini-van, she was loudly discussing the details of the anal sex she enjoyed with her boyfriend.

Not appropriate and TMI (even for me.)

Men playing chess

Men playing chess

When we got back to the hostel, I promptly showered, changed and headed out for a sunset walk along Cartagena’s city wall – its historic defense system.  It was beautiful and I happily strolled for a few hours, though once again, the romance of the place was screaming for the experience to be shared, preferably with a romantic partner.  Couples sat making out in the little holes in the wall that had been created for cannons, and were now providing relative privacy for the lovers.

I was very wistful.

Another cute piazza

Another cute piazza

IMG_1187 IMG_1190I ended my walk in the Plaza San Diego where I’d been told the restaurant La Cevicheria served amazing ceviche.  I sat down and ordered a cold mojito and the mixed ceviche and for a glorious moment, I forgot about being alone and just ate.

Having not had much sleep the night before, I couldn’t bring myself to go out that night and collapsed in bed relatively early, only to discover that there was still a party raging outside until around 2am.

Thank God for Ambien.

Ceviche

Ceviche

I was excited for the following morning because I’d booked a private walking tour of downtown with this Australian guide who’d come very highly recommended.  However, she didn’t show!  I waited for ½ an hour and then decided to wander the streets a bit more until it was time for me to catch my bus to Santa Marta.  She later wrote and said she’d left her phone at a friends’ house.  How that changed our arrangement I wasn’t sure and I felt sorely let down.

On the plus side, I managed to find a cheap new bikini (mine had fallen apart) and managed to get my camera fixed.  Someone had taken a photo and the lens had failed to retract.  Therefore all my pics of Cartagena were taken with my iPhone.

I highly recommend Cartagena to any traveler.  But go with someone you love and share the romance, the atmosphere and the food.

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anitagotravel

anitagotravel

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