Colorful Cartagena

Ceiling Fan 6 - Garth 0.  As in a quick trip to the doctor to get six stitches to close two nasty gashes in my forearm after a run-in with an angry and low ceiling fan.  After nearly seven months throughout SA with only a few blisters we've finished with this memorable altercation.

We elected to fly from Quito to Cartagena on Colombia's Northwest Caribbean coast.  With only 17 days left until we leave Bogota the thought of 40 hours of bus time plus connections was a little much to bear.  After the colorful chaos of the 'terminal terrestrial’s - bus terminals - the civility of the airports was more than a little strange.  Quito's airport was devoid of people, supremely outnumbered by the vendors and kiosks that plague the international terminal.  

The heat and humidity slapped us in the face when we landed in Cartagena at 1am and felt familiar to our old home of Bermuda - minus the annoying customs line and searches.  We hailed a cab that ushered us to the walls of the old city and our hotel.  After a nervous moment when he reversed down a deserted block, both of us searching for the hostel we arrived checked in and fell fast asleep quickly with the large ceiling fan cooling off the sweltering room.  

My fatal mistake was making the quick change into a lighter short before we went off to explore the city.    With one 'thawk' blood was spurting everywhere leaving me to wrap a towel around my arm while Dee enlisted the help of our very shocked hostel owner who found us a cab and translator fast.  Despite my negative thoughts creating a vision of an open - air street side hospital of used syringes, lepers, and other madness, the clinic we arrived at was professional, courteous, and efficient.  Bandaged up, antibiotics ordered, tetanus shot given and we were on our way.  All for 45$ which they seemed to apologize about.  Now onto the city...

We found it tough to dispute Cartagena's claim as Colombia’s 'Jewel on the Caribbean' and South America's most beautiful city.  Built almost 500 years ago by the Spaniards, as their major shipping port it was the victim of numerous Pirate takeovers.  The buccaneers stormed the port city continuously throughout the 16th and 17th centuries holding the city for ransoms of gold and other treasures from the Spanish. 

Sir Francis Drake’s siege in 1572 was the worst of the bunch as he set much of the city afire – including the cathedral’s nave- before leaving with his bounty of gems, jewels, and artifacts.  This prompted the Spain to build a 5m high wall around the entire city, which took another 150 years to complete in the mid eighteenth century. 

 The war for independence led by Simon Bolivar pushed the Spanish back over the wall for good in 1811 and poised Cartagena to become one of the world's great cities with its ideal climate, and strategic location to transport Colombian riches to the rest of the world.   However it was not the case as neighboring Barranquilla became the shipping hub, which was a blessing in disguise for Cartagena.  It suffered from stagnation for decades before the rise of tourism in the 20th century found a city historically intact having not been marred by 'progress and modernization'.

We wandered the narrow streets of the old city for hours, stopping at the numerous small plazas, churches, and museums.  The distinct colonial architecture, dazzling colored building, and distinct tropical flowers hanging from the balconies left us competing to take the best photos.  While we didn’t pick the best we found a lot of winners.

Fruit vendors sold mango, watermelon, and papayas from their carts at seemingly every corner and we had no trouble relieving them of some inventory.  Vendors hawking paintings, jewelery, and other knick-knacks kept us busy practicing the numerous ways to say ‘No thank you’ as we shuffled by.

By contrast to the relative calm of ‘El Centro’ our hostel was located in the somewhat chaotic and colorful working class neighborhood of Gestemani just a short 5 minutes walk but a world apart.  We were greeted by blocks of fruit vendors during our morning runs, Lemonade and coffee carts in the afternoon and touts selling anything from boat tours to prostitution to cocaine at night. 

We ran across a hotly contested stickball game on Sunday afternoon while walking the wall near our hostel.  It was quintessential small town America;  players dressed in matching full polyester uniform with a local beer company's logo, hats, and gloves.  Home plate and the foul lines were painted bright yellow while left field would continue for endless blocks, the right field ‘granite monster’ was just 150 feet from home plate.  I guess they’d really fear the lefty batters. 

Baseball in the Colombian Caribbean has a long history dating back over 100 years.  Colombian students studying abroad in the US brought the game back with them and in the heat of the endless summer was a great fit here.  A semiprofessional league exists with numerous teams along the coast playing an eight-month season over our fall and winter months. 

We ventured out to Boca Grande one sticky afternoon to see the world-famous beaches.  The narrow peninsula to the west of the Old City looks like Miami Beach was dropped into South American.  Beautiful white washed condo complexes line the 30 block long beachfront interspersed with luxury resorts catering to foreign tourists and well-heeled Bogotanos escaping the interior.

I was sucked into the ‘force feed the gringo oysters scam’ by one English-speaking vendor.  Thankfully the half-dozen oysters and crab leg only set me back two dollars and a few false hurt feelings.  Dee had a good laugh when she read the exact description of the scam in the guidebook a day later.

Negotiations have taken on a new level here.  First off, everything is negotiable.  We mean everything.  Cab ride, yes.  Fruit, yes.  Dinner at a restaurant, why not?  It usually starts with an outlandish offer from them – There’s one born every minute… - to which your hesitation is followed with “Special price for you today…”.  Unfortunately an aggressive tone also exists making it all seem a bit more contrived to offend you and guilt you into buying.  We vowed to buy little – not that our stuffed packs can hold another ounce – unless the sellers were a little more causal.

We found a little bookstore offering a respite from the afternoon heat.  An eclectic mix of reading and stunning photography books were only matching by air conditions and a dynamite frappucino which we were sure to include in our daily ritual. 

While tourism had been a great boon for the city it seemed to us that the abundant wealth that exists might have been generated from another source.  Of course the city was - and probably still is - a major hub in the distribution of cocaine from Colombia to the US.  While not reflected in the country's GDP figures more than just a few Colombians enjoy a great lifestyle - certainly relative to the rest of the Americas - well dressed, and very modern from their Gucci bags to their newest European sedans. We're curious what the rest of the country has in store for us.