Cartagena took all my money

From Santa Marta to Cartagena we made our way back to the bus station for a five hour ride. Once there, we got into a taxi after toying with the thought of going to the main road for an Uber.

However, we looked and decided it was giving out too much papaya. The drive into the historic area (where we were staying) was absolute mayhem. The streets were rammed and everyone was out partying. It looked like so much fun, somewhere I’d love to walk around if I didn’t scream westerner. I do wonder if what the likelihood is I would be mugged. Anyway, I’m glad I didn’t ever try it as we heard many horror stories once in Cartagena.

We arrived at our hostel, Viajero Cartagena, quite late and so we decided to go grab dinner. In our room there were two New York girls who seemed nice. I got the feeling they weren’t sure about me. They were going to some fancy restaurant for dinner, I think they had a shorter holiday in Cartagena rather than backpacking.

Ollie and I left the hostel and went on our way after a recommendation from the guy at reception. We needed to go by the Exito (supermarket) for some cash and once there we had the idea to just buy ingredients for a sandwich. Anyway, we were eating out for nearly every meal and our bank accounts said it was time to cut down. We bought Serrano ham (my favourite) and cheese (we went for the President brand that we recognised but the cheese here is just all pretty crap). Honestly, it was delicious but maybe I was just hungry. Then we went to bed. Problem was our dorm was right by the bar playing the loudest music ever booming through some speakers. Thank goodness the bar closed at 10:30, I mean it had to surely.

The next day, it was time for the morning walking tour. Again, with Beyond Colombia. There were about thirty of us on this tour, it was crazy. About 10 minutes late strolled into the New York girls. Then we also saw a Scottish girl who Ollie befriended in Rio Hostel who turns out was also in our dorm.

I thought the tour was great and our guide was awesome. We were told about the history of Cartagena, the walled city and the Spanish invasion. We were also taken to several monuments, including the old fort, cathedral, library, and most importantly the plaque dedicated to all the Miss Colombia’s of the world. Ollie enjoyed this.

After the tour, we all dispersed and we ended up finding this cute little spot to have some drinks. Ollie and I ended up getting a bit tipsy off mojitos that were delicious. The only problem is you are totally bombarded by street sellers. In Colombia a lot of students who are on their University holiday beat box and rap. You have to tip them after they called you “guapa” and Ollie “the king”. One street seller really left a mark on me. He came up and asked us where we were from responding in perfect English. He was an older guy, in his 60s, selling a collection of magnets, bottle openers and I ended up buying a deck of cards. He told us how he was studying to become a tour guide after fleeing Venezuela for a better life. Due to Covid the course was postponed and so in the meantime he is selling things to afford his hostel. Good luck to him, I’m sure he’ll be a great guide. His Cockney rhyming slang was great.

When we got back to the hostel we were quickly convinced to join the bar crawl that was happening at Republica hostel. This meant pushing a tour I had booked back a day. We were going to go spend the day at Playa Blanca. Whilst we were chilling at the hostel we met a number of people who we ended up spending the majority of our time with. One of them, was Callum. A twenty three year old chef from North London who just so happened to be a friend of my friends younger sister. Then there was Dylan, from New York and also a Argentinian guy. We also chilled with the New York girls who I decided were cool and I don’t think they hated me.

The time then came for the pub crawl. About 20 of us from Viajero made our way to Republica to spend 40,000 COP to join. All in all, it was a good night. Deifnately overpriced but we boogied and drank lots. We also bumped into Inez who we met in Medellín.

In Cartagena there is a rule that all clubs have to shut at 1am but on a weekend 2am. When the club shut we were all dragged off the street and shoved into a garage, which was an illegal rave. Around 3:30am we called it a night but the majority continued partying back at the hostel. Although, not the Scottish girl who told us she had spent the last hour in a Colombian jail as she got a guy nicked for grabbing her necklace from her.

The next day we both felt rough so I was very glad we had postponed the day trip. Honestly, we didn’t do much and patiently waiting for chef Callum to cook up a storm. Show cooked chicken tacos with pickle and feta. It was delicious.

The next day we had to be at the reception at 6:15am for our shuttle to playa Blanca. No idea why it had to be so early and at the end of the day I still did not know why. The journey there was about an hour. When we arrived Ollie and the Mexican guy was unsure but I had a good feeling. It really reminded me of Sierra Leone, the dry dusty beach filled with locals selling food/drink and lots of wooden boats docked up.

We walked all the way up the beach which took about 45 minutes in total. The beach front was heaving with different bars and hostels. I had my eyes on a pina colada the entire time. Then in the middle of the day we sat down to have lunch, which was more trucha in between many dips in the sea. We were there for about six hour in total and left at around 2pm meaning we were back to be persuaded again to go on a night out with everyone.

Before we joined everyone else we decided to go on a little date to watch the sunset. We went to cafe del mar but it was heaving with people and so we decided to go to the mirador bar which was a great choice. We had some more cocktails and were forced to join in with the traditional dancing.