Monday, March 13, 2006

Cartagena, home of Colombia's largest port, is nice, though the charming little winding colonial streets in the area we're in (Getsemani) are a tiny bit seedy, especially at night. Also, it's crazy hot here. Still, we're just happy we're not rotting on the bottom of the Caribbean, waiting for someone to find the EPIRB that we may or may not have had.

All through the first night on our rock-hard bed at the Holiday Hotel (which is located on LAND), I felt like the room was moving. The ceiling fan sounded like waves, and I was constantly afraid I'd fall off the bed. When I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, I lurched back and forth and had to grab at furniture to keep from falling.

The second night was not as bad, but I still held onto the bed in my sleep and lurched around in the bathroom. At least the guilt was gone; the rest of the sailboat gang have beds of their own now.

We've seen quite a few notices around town for sailboats going from Cartagena to Panama City. Apparently, it's the season for travel in that direction. The season for travel from Panama City/Portobelo to Cartagena is June. Oh. Well I think we were pretty lucky that the only boat available was as nice as ours. And Michael's and my timing was pretty good for being out of season. Some of our group stayed in Portobelo for up to two weeks waiting for a boat.

Club Nautico, the place where we'd waited for immigration to clear us into Colombia, has free wi-fi. If I hadn't been there already, I would have been intimidated by the idea of a "yacht club," thinking it was only for [Fancier Boat Than Ours] types. But having been to this particular one, I knew it was full of loud-voiced, down-home, floppy-skinned international folks in ancient cutoff jeans who just happen to like boats. So we went there twice trying to access this free wi-fi, and both times got it for a minute and then lost it. Pain in the neck.

But I was trying to catch up with the blog once and for all, so we went and used the supermarket Internet cafe. Since we were there, we also ate at the supermarket deli, which turns out surprisingly good food very cheaply. It's a madhouse at noon though, with the area's workers crowding in for lunch.

You really need to guard your place in line. If you're not nestled right up against the butt of the person in front of you, you're not really in line, and anyone is welcome to step into what you thought was your spot. Conversely, you can't be upset when someone nestles up to your butt; they're just trying to make sure they get some food and get back to work on time.

We also had our first arepas. These are soft in the middle, fried on the outside corn cakes dripping in butter and sometimes salty cheese that you can get from street vendors. They are so greasy that even after they've soaked through the paper bag you carry them off in, they'll still make your hands too slippery to hold a Coke. Maybe you're supposed to use a fork, I don't know. They don't come with a fork. And they're so rich that I can't finish a whole one.

So the food has been interesting, but Colombian money is a bit tough for me. I'm not a numbers person, and I'm not used to thinking in tens of thousands when I'm trying to pay for lunch. But we're here! In Colombia! I feel really enthusiastic lately, though it's so hot that it's hard to put this enthusiasm into sight-seeing action.

And we've been pretty much on our own in terms of sightseeing. We don't have a guidebook yet. Michael went and had a photocopy made of the Colombia section of James's guidebook, but the copy is disgraceful. Look, I've made a lot of photocopies in my working life and I would never have turned in such shabby work. The maps are unreadable, the text is barely readable, and some of the page edges are cut off. Come on, now. So we're just kind of wandering around on our own.

Our group is dispersing bit by bit and we're almost the last ones left. It's making me kind of sad. Most people are going north, but Michael and I decided to head south, to Medellin. We're disappointed, but we're going to have to skip Venezuela this trip. We're most interested in Peru and Bolivia, and in getting down to Argentina and we're afraid we might not have the time. Why is time going by so fast? Remember how long a year was when you were a kid?

 

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Old city, Cartagena, Colombia.

Old city, Cartagena, Colombia.

A polite request from the Holiday Hotel.

James had a ripped shirt and got a Kuna lady in San Blas to sew a mola onto it to fix it. Very cool. We were all a little jealous, I think.

Old city, Cartagena, Colombia.

Old city, Cartagena, Colombia.

Arepas in progress, Cartagena.