Canada to Patagonia at a Worrying Age

Well, it’s Tuesday night and a little too early for bed. After Friday the chance of wi-fi internet will have gone, so the options for posting will be very much reduced, so please be prepared for radio silence…

Since Saturday I’ve had a very relaxing time, apart from the daily grind of Spanish lessons. However they came to an end today so I can now take a much earned breather. Eliecer, my teacher, was very complementary saying that with practice my Spanish can be very good. There’s the rub of course. Practice? We’ll see. Although I’ve just had a chat about the merits of different types of Colombian beer with a bloke in the best square in the world – so that’s a start. If there appears to be a rather alcoholic theme on this diary, it may be about to change as Friday should herald the era of the trek (and eventually of altitude).

However, it’s safe for a couple of days yet as Thursday is the festival of the candles, or something, meaning that tomorrow night is a fiesta evening. Not quite sure what it means, but we’re planning to party in some form or another.

Tonight I’ve been out for a very expensive meal, which will have to be the last for a while. If not you rich friends will have to start delving into your pension plans and tax shelters.

A slight change has been noted in Cartagena tonight with a bit more begging as a result of more muchachos on the street. [This is probably due to the oncoming fiesta, start of the tourist season (rates go up 40%) and the entirely unexpected excitement over Christmas.] A load of them surrounded me tonight with excellent English. I had to congratulate them on their school attendance and was wondering how to shake them off when a particularly bold one broke a bottle some way away and they all ran off laughing.

So, no real news – just the luxurious calm before the fun of a South American bus journey (gone to the expense of door-to-door with air con, so don’t worry).

A note on Greg, the guy in the last post. Greg is a good ol’ Texan boy who popped into Cartagena on his way home from 5 crime-free months in Buenos Aires. In his three nights here, he was mugged on the first night and couldn’t get into his hostel on the third. After wandering the streets for what seemed like half a lifetime, he asked a copper to accompany him to a cashpoint to get money to pay for another place. The officer demanded money for this service at 10% of the withdrawal. Still he wished he could stay longer. At his final meal before his plane left he was presented with a whole chicken on a plate. Funny if you were there. You should have seen my fish.

Presume you’re happily esconced back at home now Greg, organising the desserts for the cows. Keep in touch one way or another. Beware the dangers of continuing education…

To keep the pictorial evidence going here’s a snap of the best square in the world…

Do you think it could be Rhyl in a certain light? Or perhaps Robin Hood Camp?

PS Extra picture of Traditional Welsh Dancers on ‘Starting to get it now…’ Also I have missed Sarah’s, Elaine’s, Sukhjinder’s and Winnie’s birthdays (and probably many more). Feel free to abuse me if you feel similarly slighted. Picture here soon Sarah (who left a note on the Manzanilla post). Is anyone keeping up with this?

Will this do Sarah – sorry you have to share your moment of web glory with these three… Does Cilla know about this?

Tags: Cartagena, Travel

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