10-14 July 05

I have rarely seen a more gorgeous city than Cartagena, and neither has UNESCO who put it on their World Heritage list. The Old Town, surrounded by thick stone walls from colonial times, is filled with beautiful houses with ornate facades and balconies brimming with flowers. Painted in lively colors; yellows, reds, oranges, terracottas, blues, greens etc; the houses just make you happy. Well, maybe not you but certainly me ;-) I spent many hours just wandering the streets and circling the city on top of the surrounding wall.

Cartagena is great for shopping - filled with stylish boutiques and large markets. I would quite happily come back on a three-week vacation with a big, empty suitcase and fill it with cute clothes and artwork. As for now I could only look, sigh... Life is indeed hard.

There was a distinct lack of female travelers in Cartagena. Though not the first choice for solo females, it is a definite hotspot for young males enjoying the cheap booze & drugs and the cheap but pretty hookers working the clubs in town. How do I know this? Let me just say that I had a rather interesting night out with some guys from the hostel, ending up in a bar/club where I was the only female not looking for business... and where all the visiting men left after 5 minutes with the girl of their choice. What with the whole scene, I couldn´t even dance there and left very early with one of the guys who wasn´t interested in paying for a girl´s company. The next night, I wished the guys a good time and went early to bed... Cartagena earns the spot of "Worst Nightlife (for Females)".

After a couple of days in the city, the beach life seemed more enticing. I had my eyes set on Islas Rosario National Park but was informed (mistakenly, I later found out) that it was impossible to stay overnight. I left for Playa Blanca with some people from the hostel instead, after hearing that it was one of the best beaches in Colombia.

It was indeed nice; a half-moon bay filled with white, fine sand, set to a backdrop of thatched huts and palm trees, hammocks, beach chairs and the inevitable sellers of jewellery, snacks and massages. The sellers were the only nuisance in paradise, many with intimidating looks, not taking no for an answer, pestering you until you finally cracked and bought something just to get rid of them. I settled at a no-name hammock shelter with Stuart, an English guy, and we spent the next 24 hours lounging in our hammocks, lounging at our table, lounging on our sarongs in the sun, eating fish, drinking beer and playing cards to candlelight with two of the other nine backpackers who "crowded" the huge beach that night...

Tour boats would arrive for a couple of hours a day, bringing hoardes of day-trippers who rented snorkels, drank from coconuts and had a laugh, then left us alone again.

We couldn´t wish for more really - just wishing for less, less of the sandflies that ate us alive. We had left too early in the morning, and in my semi-consciousness I had packed only bikini and shorts/singlet, not thinking about the fact that I might need long sleeves, mosquito repellent (and sunscreen!!).

I stayed for three days working on my tan, snorkeling, reading and eating fruit salads from the scary fruit lady who seemed to find me wherever I was hiding, at night eating fish, playing cards and slapping at sandflies.

All good things inevitably come to an end (and so does your supply of cash), and I headed back to Cartagena and onwards to the fishing & dive-town of Taganga with Guy, an Israeli I met at the hostel and later at Playa Blanca. We slept in hammocks yet again; the hostel Casa De Felipe was full but offered their hammocks for free. If you like non-party hostels, Casa de Felipe is a great place, one of the better ones I´ve stayed at on my trip.