89) Columbia

GrupoClub de Pesca Marina 

Cartagena, Columbia

10° 24.940 N 75° 32.699 W

Amor Fati at Club de Pesca Marina

Today we all went different directions at different times.  I walked to old town.  I generally knew the route and it was almost visible from the boat.  It took a little getting over the fact that I was walking the streets of Cartagena by myself.  This area seems to be safe and with all the armed security guards and police and soldiers it feels OK.  I traced some of the steps that I took the day before and then ventured off.  I soon realized that I wanted to walk down every street and go in every storefront.  This is probably why I am thinking that Cartagena is on my list of things to do.  Again. 

 

  

 

While sitting at lunch in a grand courtyard I saw a small cargo truck pull up that looked refrigerated.  Out the side door comes four heavily armed military soldiers in fatigues, hip pistols and automatic rifles.  Strangely enough I am comforted knowing that there is a policing force very visible and well spread out.  During lunch some guy walks buy and says hey America! in great English.  I asked how he knew.  He said he lived there and can tell an American from a mile away.  Ok, c’mon, I’m whitey and wearing, uhm, whatever.  This was a strange encounter.  He really wanted to get me in the jewelry shop next door and went very far to reel it in.  I sat here because the waitress said that they take Visa and I had no Pesos.  But, at the counter I found out that the machine did not work.  Luckily, Johnny appeared and translated the problem.  I had a $20 USD as my reserve and did not want to part with it.  Here’s the crazy part, he loaned me $20 worth of Pesos and said he would take me to the best rate exchange.  But, first I wanted some rum.  He took me to a grocery store and I got some local juice.  After the exchange I paid him back and waited for the ax to fall.  I don’t know why I was feeling so apprehensive.  I guess because it was Columbia and I was solo.  I needed Internet and he took me to the nicest air-conditioned place and he seemed to know the workers there.  We agreed on getting a couple of frosty’s later and he took me to a little local pub and we had a couple of Columbia’s finest.  He made the last attempt to get me to the jewelry shop and then we parted.  It was such a strange encounter yet so fruitful.  He did say that he is from the same town as Shakira.  I don’t know where that is.

The trinkets in most of the shops are similar to flea market tourist stuff.  But, when you come across legitimate local art it is obvious.  If I had more Pesos in my pocket I would have needed more bags to get it home.  I was taken in by some of the art that I had seen and would love to have some of it.  In one shop I negotiated in broken English/Spanish the purchase of a pound of coffee for $4 USD.  I felt good about that, too.

 

   

We had dinner at a fantastic restaurant.  The environment and food was fantastic and judging by the flow through the door this place was a hit.  The door, a little door carved out of the big door, was unassuming and you had to duck.  The doors in these buildings are large enough to fit a small car through but too heavy to open and that is why they cut the little doors into them.  We sat close to the Grupo Cuba Swing Pitty Duenas ensemble that played some authentic Latin American music and that is what made the evening.  John and Nancy had been here before and were fans of this band and planned this evening and now I know why.