A few weeks ago my friend posted in FB that she was coming to Colombia. So we had to meet. After some discussions we agreed that it would be in Cartagena. My initial plan was to get there by land, but, as usual, it did not work.
I got stuck in Cali and so decided to fly, besides, it was
1. Cheaper
2. Faster
Also Liza was on the coast so it was additional reason to visit before she would go back to her beloved BA
Cartagena
I met Dipti, a friend I was going to see, back in Salta and later in Puerto Natales. Since then she came back to Chicago, found a boyfriend, and finally came back to South America to travel in Colombia for a couple of weeks. When we met in Cartagena her boyfriend joined her for a week of her stay, they were flying back to the US next day.
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Cartagena is hot and humid coastal city with colonial city center, dirty suburbs, skyscapers in posh and expensive areas and mainly black population. City center is beautiful and can be very peacful early in the morning before vendors of everything from artesania to drugs and girls fill the streets. Men also pay a lot of attention to assing gringas, but not as much local girls! It is in Cartagena, where street vendor of whatever he was selling recognized slavic roots in me. First time when I could not say that I was from Indonesia! I spent a couple of days in Cartagena wondering the streets of the center and adjacent barrio Gestermani and headed to Taganga to meet Liza.
Taganga
Taganga is a small fishing village (Gosh! I talk like LP!) close to Santa Martha, main starting point for Ciudd perdida trek and Tayrona NP. Liza chose it as her base as it was cheaper. She did not lose time while waiting for me and made friends with local hippies that seem to be the only inhabitants of Taganga and filled all hostels, including the one we were staying in. She also found us cheaper tour for Ciudad Perdida trek. The thing is all the companies offer this trek for the standard price, Liza somehow managed to get 10% discount.
How much is the fish? 3 dollars
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Streets of Taganga
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We hang around Taganga, baked fish for dinner, visited Santa Martha, another hot, but less humid city with colonial center of a smaller scale, paid for the tour and finally left for the trek after couple of days in that noisy hell somebody called Taganga.
The thing about people on the coast is that they like music. And they like to share this music with everyone around. That is why they have huge audiosystems that they would setup outside their houses and switch on salsa/vallenato/whatever they like to listen. And that would be on all day/all night for neighbourghs to enjoy. In case neighbour does not like the music, he would switch on his own. All day, all night. And they would sit just under their sound systems (I assume they are all a little bit deaf).
Ciudad Perdida trek
So I was happy to change this hippie paradise to a real one, trekking in the mountains of Nevado de Santa Martha NP. Ciudad Perdida, Lost City, is a 4-5 days trek to the ruins of a Tayrona civilization city, that was not discovered by Spaniards. Took me days to understand, why: difficult mountainous terrain covered with jungles was not favourite trekking destination of the conquistadores. However, the city was discovered by looters in XX century, was partially destroyed and then rebuilt by archeologist with the help of the same looters. Now those looters and their descendants guide treks there. What a business!
We were three in the group: Liza, myself and a girl who joined a morning before we started trek. She was from Ukraine. This is how our poor guide ended up with loud Russian girls in his group.
We were warned that it is wet. And it was wet indeed: it would rain, jungle rain, every second day! Basically, everytime we would need to go down, it would rain. For me, that was the hardest, but also the most fun part of the trek: the mountains was low, around 1600 m, so did not represent any difficulties. On the way we passed through villages of local tribes. Here Liza described what we've learned about them. There she has more texts about Colombia, in Russian, have a look.
So we spent days trekking under heavy rain, running faster than other groups (3 fit russian girls, of course!), eating standard arroz con pollo and a bit of veggies lunches.
Our team
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After the trek we were supposed to go to stay in Santa Martha, but.
Back to lovely Taganga
But the second group with whom we trekked were going out in Taganga (well, apparantely, it is a place to go out with its 2 clubs playing the same music and half full). So we ended up back in Taganga in our favourite hippie hostel.
Going out in Taganga is no different from going out in any other place in South America: same music, same 'where are you from' in different languages, same dance moves. It becomes boring. We did, however, met two Russians there. Two! One was a guy whom Liza met before in Medellin, the second a girl from Chelyabinsk who came to Colombia to travel and stayed to live. Even though the night was not that excitingly interesting, we stayed until 3am.
Gabo's day
Although we went to bed late, we were awake early: Taganga and its music wakes up early. It was supposed to be a quiet day, but Liza figured out how we could get to Aracataca, birthplace of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The place was easily accessible from Santa Martha, Santa Martha was easily accessible from Taganga, so we were off to the museum, house where Gabo spent his childhood.
The place looked like Taganga, but without crowds of hippies and backpackers: same people sitting outside their houses, same terrifying sound systems waiting for their time to play loud vallenato. The difference is, as this town does not see that much international tourism, we were well looked at. Passing by pool bars, where men hanging out all day playing pool/drinking beer, was uneasy experience. Museum was nice, telling Marquez story as well as region's. I have to admit, I knew/know nothing about life of the writer and I can barely remember his works. I remember I liked The colonel and did not like Hundred years of solitude. That is about it.
Typical pre-coastal town
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Next day I spent in buses going back to Cartagena to catch my plane back to Cali next morning. Cannot say I liked the coast: too loud, too much attention, too hot, too dirty, too many hippies, too much drugs. And I did not even swim in the Carribean sea!!!
I got stuck in Cali and so decided to fly, besides, it was
1. Cheaper
2. Faster
Also Liza was on the coast so it was additional reason to visit before she would go back to her beloved BA
Cartagena
I met Dipti, a friend I was going to see, back in Salta and later in Puerto Natales. Since then she came back to Chicago, found a boyfriend, and finally came back to South America to travel in Colombia for a couple of weeks. When we met in Cartagena her boyfriend joined her for a week of her stay, they were flying back to the US next day.
Cartagena is hot and humid coastal city with colonial city center, dirty suburbs, skyscapers in posh and expensive areas and mainly black population. City center is beautiful and can be very peacful early in the morning before vendors of everything from artesania to drugs and girls fill the streets. Men also pay a lot of attention to assing gringas, but not as much local girls! It is in Cartagena, where street vendor of whatever he was selling recognized slavic roots in me. First time when I could not say that I was from Indonesia! I spent a couple of days in Cartagena wondering the streets of the center and adjacent barrio Gestermani and headed to Taganga to meet Liza.
Taganga
Taganga is a small fishing village (Gosh! I talk like LP!) close to Santa Martha, main starting point for Ciudd perdida trek and Tayrona NP. Liza chose it as her base as it was cheaper. She did not lose time while waiting for me and made friends with local hippies that seem to be the only inhabitants of Taganga and filled all hostels, including the one we were staying in. She also found us cheaper tour for Ciudad Perdida trek. The thing is all the companies offer this trek for the standard price, Liza somehow managed to get 10% discount.
How much is the fish? 3 dollars
Streets of Taganga
We hang around Taganga, baked fish for dinner, visited Santa Martha, another hot, but less humid city with colonial center of a smaller scale, paid for the tour and finally left for the trek after couple of days in that noisy hell somebody called Taganga.
The thing about people on the coast is that they like music. And they like to share this music with everyone around. That is why they have huge audiosystems that they would setup outside their houses and switch on salsa/vallenato/whatever they like to listen. And that would be on all day/all night for neighbourghs to enjoy. In case neighbour does not like the music, he would switch on his own. All day, all night. And they would sit just under their sound systems (I assume they are all a little bit deaf).
Ciudad Perdida trek
So I was happy to change this hippie paradise to a real one, trekking in the mountains of Nevado de Santa Martha NP. Ciudad Perdida, Lost City, is a 4-5 days trek to the ruins of a Tayrona civilization city, that was not discovered by Spaniards. Took me days to understand, why: difficult mountainous terrain covered with jungles was not favourite trekking destination of the conquistadores. However, the city was discovered by looters in XX century, was partially destroyed and then rebuilt by archeologist with the help of the same looters. Now those looters and their descendants guide treks there. What a business!
We were three in the group: Liza, myself and a girl who joined a morning before we started trek. She was from Ukraine. This is how our poor guide ended up with loud Russian girls in his group.
We were warned that it is wet. And it was wet indeed: it would rain, jungle rain, every second day! Basically, everytime we would need to go down, it would rain. For me, that was the hardest, but also the most fun part of the trek: the mountains was low, around 1600 m, so did not represent any difficulties. On the way we passed through villages of local tribes. Here Liza described what we've learned about them. There she has more texts about Colombia, in Russian, have a look.
So we spent days trekking under heavy rain, running faster than other groups (3 fit russian girls, of course!), eating standard arroz con pollo and a bit of veggies lunches.
Our team
After the trek we were supposed to go to stay in Santa Martha, but.
Back to lovely Taganga
But the second group with whom we trekked were going out in Taganga (well, apparantely, it is a place to go out with its 2 clubs playing the same music and half full). So we ended up back in Taganga in our favourite hippie hostel.
Going out in Taganga is no different from going out in any other place in South America: same music, same 'where are you from' in different languages, same dance moves. It becomes boring. We did, however, met two Russians there. Two! One was a guy whom Liza met before in Medellin, the second a girl from Chelyabinsk who came to Colombia to travel and stayed to live. Even though the night was not that excitingly interesting, we stayed until 3am.
Gabo's day
Although we went to bed late, we were awake early: Taganga and its music wakes up early. It was supposed to be a quiet day, but Liza figured out how we could get to Aracataca, birthplace of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The place was easily accessible from Santa Martha, Santa Martha was easily accessible from Taganga, so we were off to the museum, house where Gabo spent his childhood.
The place looked like Taganga, but without crowds of hippies and backpackers: same people sitting outside their houses, same terrifying sound systems waiting for their time to play loud vallenato. The difference is, as this town does not see that much international tourism, we were well looked at. Passing by pool bars, where men hanging out all day playing pool/drinking beer, was uneasy experience. Museum was nice, telling Marquez story as well as region's. I have to admit, I knew/know nothing about life of the writer and I can barely remember his works. I remember I liked The colonel and did not like Hundred years of solitude. That is about it.
Typical pre-coastal town
Next day I spent in buses going back to Cartagena to catch my plane back to Cali next morning. Cannot say I liked the coast: too loud, too much attention, too hot, too dirty, too many hippies, too much drugs. And I did not even swim in the Carribean sea!!!
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