After a 5 hour bus ride to Santa Marta and listening to a computer engineer from Turkey talk about his year long travels, (this is a guy that decided to hike Patagonia by himself without ever going camping before). We´re talking 127 Hours situation waiting to happen... Anyway, awesome stories, met an Aussie, who Katie would be happy to know had red hair and said ´heaps´ a lot. Purchase food to make aguacate-queso sandwiches and had my jar of peanut butter, so I knew I´d be able to survive in the jungle with the only food option being expensive fish dishes. Lugged my nalgene and new foldable water bladder (thanks mom!) the hour walk into the jungle, made it to the first beach Arrecifes and scored a $6 hammock.
Spent the days wandering thru the selva and exploring other small beaches. Coarse sand, warm water, many warnings about all the people who had drown in an idealic setting. Serriously, this place looks like a honey moon postcard. Too bad I wasn´t on my honey moon. I got a lot of reading done and managed to stay dry for the most part despite the deluges that camp down in the nighttime. I felt bad for those camping who needed to seek out higher ground. There are people who actually pay mules to bring down all their baggage for them. The scene looks like a Woodstock campground after awhile, a splattering of colored tents, clothes lines strung with vibrant colored bathing suits, people snacking on fruit. Twas fun. Met a lot of Colombians on holiday. Got an offer to visit folks in Cali and almost took some one up on the offer to ride down to the Santander Valley on motorcycle. They had extra space but desfortunadamente, I had left my larger backpack in a hostal in Cartagena and just brought a small drawstring backpack with me. Darn. It was fortunate though that I was able to leave my 33kg pack back in the city though, otherwise I don´t think I would´ve made it all the way to my final destination.
Hiked back out of the park on Monday, caught the micro from parking lot to entrance, caught collectivo from Tyrona to Santa Marta and then hopped on the back of a motorcycle (because the old lady on the corner told me this was way faster than the bus and also safe) in order to beeline to the bus terminal. Caught my bus back to Cartagena. Done. Enough transport for one day. Return back to find all spaces full in Casa Viena, time to head to Media Luna (or as I have now figured out, party central). I left with a new Chilean friend and mysterious red bites all over my legs. I should really review these places before I committ to sleeping in a room the reeks of heavy BO and where the music is not shut off until after 12pm. You know you are old and the hostal is dangerous when there is a pool-bar area in the center. Note to self...
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