Maybe it's Baader Meinhof syndrome, but ever since I booked my trip to Colombia last year, I've been hearing about people about to go to or just getting back from its coastal port city Cartagena. No one seemed to have anything bad to say: Colombia's days as the violent drug lair of Pablo Escobar and his henchmen seem to be firmly behind it, and tourists are lapping it up.
As usual, come March, the snowy northeastern weather was getting awfully old. Boyfriend and I set off early in the morning and made it out before the third nor'easter hit!
I've said it before, but there is nothing like that first wave of heat against your sad Bostonian skin as you come off the plane in a tropical place. Colombia delivered this in a big way with its cute tarmac arrival "hallways" outside leading you from the plane to the airport itself. They were filled with hanging plants and flowers and palm trees. Had these not been permeated with the smell of exhaust and jet fuel I might have tried to hang out there.
Our number one priority was to get to the beach, so after a chill arrival at our hotel (the intercontinental, known to cab drivers and locals as "el inter") we set out. The beaches in Cartagena proper are NOT the pristine ones you can find in nearby towns. Tons of cruise ships come in and out of the port, so the water is kinda muddled and the sand is brownish. Still, it was great for us since we were just getting our bearings.
Most guidebooks will tell you this, and most of you who have traveled before are used to it, but let me just say: the vendors selling trinkets on the beach and on the city streets are relentless. If you're walking, they run up to you, walk with you, and follow you. If you're stationary (for example, reading on a beach chair), you are a captive audience and you have no chance.
One of the vendors was selling massages on the beach. She was a lovely dark-skinned woman, rather plump, walking around with a not-so-clean-looking bucket and lotion in an unmarked tube. It was not hard to resist this massage. She introduced herself as Nico and would not stop talking to me as I politely declined her services. We actually had a nice conversation (read: she complimented me endlessly, and that was great even though I knew her motives weren't exactly altruistic). I should say here that some people suggest completely ignoring or rudely telling off these vendors, and that may be effective, but I would never do that.*
* Unless I cracked, which I did once and only once on this trip, in the walled city. I'll tell you later.
We are guests in the country and as Americans we have a reputation to pull out of the mud, and cussing at locals is simply not an option for me (or you). So we would just kind of constantly say "no" as we walked along. My advice is don't bother giving reasons because it will backfire. Here's an exchange I had on the last day with a vendor selling trips to an island we had already gone to:
Him: Come to Bora Bora!
Me: We already went, thanks. It was great.
Him: So you liked it! Go again! Boats start at 9am tomorrow!
Me: We're going to the airport to go home tomorrow.
Him: Go tonight! See the island in the moonlight!
Anyway, we continued walking along the beach and finally sat down near a little restaurant shack. For about $50 American dollars we got ocean-side chairs for the day, lunch, and the first round of drinks, and we were ecstatic. The vendors selling águila ("eagle," the local beer) and fruity drinks were very successful with us. Pretty soon word got around that we were spending money and guess who comes back. Nico! She sits down next to us and just starts chatting but we know it's only a matter of time til she gets into business mode. Hoping to avoid that, we made clear we didn't want a massage but would be happy to buy her a drink. She seemed pretty surprised and delighted and had a beer with us, and we were just chatting about things to do in Cartagena, and it was great.
Then she says, "Well since you got me a beer I'll just give you a sample massage for free. Just your feet." This was to Boyfriend.
Thirty no's later she's rubbing his feet and he is complete mush. It apparently feels amazing and he'll spring for the paid version and "I have to try it" and it's the perfect remedy after all that cold weather and long flights and ok fine I'll get one too just a sample though and wow this is an amazing full body massage! We should probably have been concerned when Nico started confidently ordering more drinks on our tab, but we were very relaxed what with the awesome massages.
Then... oops! It's all over and we have no idea how much the massages are because we never asked. And now the service has been rendered so you can't exactly bargain.
And that's how we ended up paying about $130 US for beach side massages. Damn it Nico! Damn your strong healing hands! Boyfriend and I chalked it up as a win anyway, since we were contributing to the local economy and the price was still way less than it would have been in Boston. We ended up buying beers for all of Nico's friends and using one of her contacts to set up an excursion to one of the lovely islands with pretty beaches for the next day: Bora Bora.
*Me, obviously, and if I could go back in time I would still not change a thing.
There were about 30 cabana/beds and we paid an extra $20 to have one on the front row, which was totally worth it, not least of all because it came with a fruit tray. We shared the island with our boat-mates and about 2 other ferries full of people for a total of about... oh I don't know, maybe 50 people total? So it wasn't completely off the grid but still pretty amazing. And there were only two vendors total. One selling jewelry in a very chill "you come to me I won't come to you" way, and another guy who rolled up in a tiny dinghy boat with his wares: live lobsters that he had just plucked from the seabed. Boyfriend has always said he dislikes running and will avoid it like the plague when I go out for jogs or sign up for races, but I am here to tell you he moved so fast trying to get to that lobster salesman that I believe he has been training behind my back for just such an occasion. I'm sure we were supposed to bargain here again, but the fisherman said about $50 usd for a big old lobster and honestly it was worth it to have fresh lobster on the beach. So we pick out the one Boyfriend wants, the fisherman leaves, and about 45 minutes later he paddles up with a fully cooked lobster on the prow of his ship on a little paper plate which was quite a site for someone who has only seen lobster served in fancy restaurants. Anyway it was apparently the best lobster Boyfriend has ever had and worth every penny.
Lunch is included in this little getaway (dinghy lobster is extra as you already know), and it was very nice: fish, coconut rice, fried plantains, just generally yummy stuff. They also had vegetarian options!
On our way back, we made sure to get Prime Seats on the boat this time so we were one of the first ones on. We sat toward the back with full shade. Then the captain comes back to our rows and says that we should keep in mind that it's not his fault if we get wet since the way back is going "against the waves," as he put it.
"Getting wet" turned out to be the understatement of the trip. This was a ferry but it still went fast, and we were therefore getting smacked with massive walls of sea spray at about 500mph (yeah yeah not really but still). Here are the phases we, the 8 people in the last rows, went through on that one hour boat ride:
Phase 1 (first 5 minutes): laughing and shrieking
Phase 2 (next 5 minutes): covering faces with hats and making jokes about these being Prime Seats
Phase 3 (next 10 minutes): absolutely soaked, eyes burning with sea water, making tense jokes that we should put on our goggles and snorkles
Phase 4: (next 5 minutes) putting on goggles and snorkels, incredulously laughing about it
Phase 5: (remaining 40 minutes of ride) grimly staring ahead through goggles, getting absolutely pummeled by thick sea spray seeming spewed out by Poseidon himself, just making out the silhouettes of the people sitting up front in the "bad seats" (they seem to be pointing in our direction and laughing... surely we don't look ridiculous: soaked to the bone, wearing goggles and snorkels, while sitting on a boat, right?), heatedly saying "never again" under our breath, pondering Colombian maritime law and the likelihood of qualifying for a multi-million dollar settlement, etc.
Really though, it was fine. The whole day was awesome. I just suggest sitting in the back on the way there and way WAY in the front on the way back.
If you think you get a picture of us during that debacle, the answer is a firm "You are no longer my friend." Also we tried but it would have been like taking your phone out underwater so no go.
There transpired a small detail here that I will tell you personally if you like but should not be added to the blog.
We then went to La Popa. I recommend going to this beautiful former convent because it has an amazing view of Cartagena, and a vast collection of (of course!) bills from what must be every country in the world displayed on the walls.
As mentioned above, it was in the walled city that I eventually broke down and sort of yelled at a vendor. I was caught off guard. We turned a corner onto a plaza and were absolutely swarmed by people hawking sunglasses and straw hats and jewelry and I finally erupted into a "NO!". Of course the person directly in front of me who took the brunt of this outburst was the youngest, cutest little vendor of them all (maybe 11 years old) and he quickly scurried off. I felt horribly guilty for the next few hours.
So. Barú has amazing beaches, but it is not for the faint of heart or those traveling without a local. On the way, our driver had been telling us that there are many locals living in the town who are very poor and rely heavily on beach tourists. "That's pretty normal," we thought. No. This was different.
We roll up to the turnoff to get to the parking lot for the beach, and there are about 6 local boys (tall, very dark skinned, skinny teens, probably 16-22 years old) waving us over to talk with them. Our driver told us that these boys were pretending to be attendants for the lot, but they were actually relatives of people running restaurants on the beach with no written prices for food. Their specialty is having you order food and then telling you that your simple lunch cost about $150 usd and you can't argue because you already ate it (flashes of Nico's massage flickered through my mind, I nodded to convey my veteran wisdom in this matter). The boys corral you early on and bring you to these restaurants. So he says we're going to ignore them. This approach was fine with us. However, the teens were not too keen on it, and started yelling at him, then chasing the car, then jumping onto the moving car which forced our driver to stop. At this point Boyfriend and I are exchanging looks like "we're about to become combatants in a Colombian brawl," and I'm just happy my last meal was Guanabana juice. But our driver simply rolled down his window and in a voice that was insanely calm (keep in mind he is looking out his window at the stomach of a local teen who has mounted his car), said, "Get down." And the teens yelled some more, and he said, "Get down, get off the car." And they got off. And we went into the beach.
You should know that you can reach Barú from Cartagena by boat if you book with one of the excursion companies, which would circumnavigate the driving/parking/car-attacking issues.
Somewhat tense from that altercation (our driver was unfazed), boyfriend and I spent all day at a reputable place with written prices that featured a 3-step distance from the water. I don't know the name of this place, but apparently there are 3 restaurants (out of dozens) that have menus with prices on them, so just ask to see the prices before you eat and you'll be good. Maybe take a picture of them just in case.
Odds and ends:
Did I mention that you should eat as much fruit as possible? There are all sorts of exotic fruits you've probably never heard of.
Arepas. Arepas are translated as "corn patties" and that is a massive disservice because it makes them sound strange. You need to order them (plain, with cheese, with eggs, with meat if you're gross) and eat them at least once a day.
Get in touch with our driver. He's super nice and tries to practice his English but if you speak Spanish it's probably better (duh). His name is Eloy and he communicates mostly with WhatsApp: +57 301 585*
*rest of number separated to avoid bot dials: 5570. He was a lifesaver with transportation but also with advice and warnings about ripoffs around town.
Go to "El carbon de palo" restaurant. It's not one of the fancy ones in old town (though we loved those too, try Juan del Mar and 1621); it's in the Bocagrande zone, which is where most of the hotels are. We ate here 3 nights in a row because we loved it so much. The food was amazing, the service was embarrassingly good, and they had multiple live music acts every night. The music was always chill though; think more "quizás" than mariachi-style.
Get local money. Save yourself the stress of asking cab drivers if they take American money as they hold up traffic waiting for you. Things are very reasonably priced; most of our cabs to and from the walled city were $5.
Have fun and let me know what you think!
xoxo
As usual, come March, the snowy northeastern weather was getting awfully old. Boyfriend and I set off early in the morning and made it out before the third nor'easter hit!
I've said it before, but there is nothing like that first wave of heat against your sad Bostonian skin as you come off the plane in a tropical place. Colombia delivered this in a big way with its cute tarmac arrival "hallways" outside leading you from the plane to the airport itself. They were filled with hanging plants and flowers and palm trees. Had these not been permeated with the smell of exhaust and jet fuel I might have tried to hang out there.
Our number one priority was to get to the beach, so after a chill arrival at our hotel (the intercontinental, known to cab drivers and locals as "el inter") we set out. The beaches in Cartagena proper are NOT the pristine ones you can find in nearby towns. Tons of cruise ships come in and out of the port, so the water is kinda muddled and the sand is brownish. Still, it was great for us since we were just getting our bearings.
Most guidebooks will tell you this, and most of you who have traveled before are used to it, but let me just say: the vendors selling trinkets on the beach and on the city streets are relentless. If you're walking, they run up to you, walk with you, and follow you. If you're stationary (for example, reading on a beach chair), you are a captive audience and you have no chance.
One of the vendors was selling massages on the beach. She was a lovely dark-skinned woman, rather plump, walking around with a not-so-clean-looking bucket and lotion in an unmarked tube. It was not hard to resist this massage. She introduced herself as Nico and would not stop talking to me as I politely declined her services. We actually had a nice conversation (read: she complimented me endlessly, and that was great even though I knew her motives weren't exactly altruistic). I should say here that some people suggest completely ignoring or rudely telling off these vendors, and that may be effective, but I would never do that.*
* Unless I cracked, which I did once and only once on this trip, in the walled city. I'll tell you later.
We are guests in the country and as Americans we have a reputation to pull out of the mud, and cussing at locals is simply not an option for me (or you). So we would just kind of constantly say "no" as we walked along. My advice is don't bother giving reasons because it will backfire. Here's an exchange I had on the last day with a vendor selling trips to an island we had already gone to:
Him: Come to Bora Bora!
Me: We already went, thanks. It was great.
Him: So you liked it! Go again! Boats start at 9am tomorrow!
Me: We're going to the airport to go home tomorrow.
Him: Go tonight! See the island in the moonlight!
Anyway, we continued walking along the beach and finally sat down near a little restaurant shack. For about $50 American dollars we got ocean-side chairs for the day, lunch, and the first round of drinks, and we were ecstatic. The vendors selling águila ("eagle," the local beer) and fruity drinks were very successful with us. Pretty soon word got around that we were spending money and guess who comes back. Nico! She sits down next to us and just starts chatting but we know it's only a matter of time til she gets into business mode. Hoping to avoid that, we made clear we didn't want a massage but would be happy to buy her a drink. She seemed pretty surprised and delighted and had a beer with us, and we were just chatting about things to do in Cartagena, and it was great.
Then she says, "Well since you got me a beer I'll just give you a sample massage for free. Just your feet." This was to Boyfriend.
Thirty no's later she's rubbing his feet and he is complete mush. It apparently feels amazing and he'll spring for the paid version and "I have to try it" and it's the perfect remedy after all that cold weather and long flights and ok fine I'll get one too just a sample though and wow this is an amazing full body massage! We should probably have been concerned when Nico started confidently ordering more drinks on our tab, but we were very relaxed what with the awesome massages.
Then... oops! It's all over and we have no idea how much the massages are because we never asked. And now the service has been rendered so you can't exactly bargain.
And that's how we ended up paying about $130 US for beach side massages. Damn it Nico! Damn your strong healing hands! Boyfriend and I chalked it up as a win anyway, since we were contributing to the local economy and the price was still way less than it would have been in Boston. We ended up buying beers for all of Nico's friends and using one of her contacts to set up an excursion to one of the lovely islands with pretty beaches for the next day: Bora Bora.
Bora Bora
Yes we went to Bora Bora, and you better believe I'm going to let people assume that I mean the one in the South Pacific northwest of Tahiti. You, however, will have the exclusive REAL version of the story, which is that this is a one hour speedferry ride from Cartagena. On the way there we were stuck being the last ones on the ferry even though we got to the port early. This is because SOMEONE was buying fresh mangos from a street vendor when they opened up the boat.* Anyway so we had to sit at the very front part of ferry, the part that was uncovered in full sun and the bumpiest. An hour later, we climb off the boat, up some stairs, and onto this island:*Me, obviously, and if I could go back in time I would still not change a thing.
There were about 30 cabana/beds and we paid an extra $20 to have one on the front row, which was totally worth it, not least of all because it came with a fruit tray. We shared the island with our boat-mates and about 2 other ferries full of people for a total of about... oh I don't know, maybe 50 people total? So it wasn't completely off the grid but still pretty amazing. And there were only two vendors total. One selling jewelry in a very chill "you come to me I won't come to you" way, and another guy who rolled up in a tiny dinghy boat with his wares: live lobsters that he had just plucked from the seabed. Boyfriend has always said he dislikes running and will avoid it like the plague when I go out for jogs or sign up for races, but I am here to tell you he moved so fast trying to get to that lobster salesman that I believe he has been training behind my back for just such an occasion. I'm sure we were supposed to bargain here again, but the fisherman said about $50 usd for a big old lobster and honestly it was worth it to have fresh lobster on the beach. So we pick out the one Boyfriend wants, the fisherman leaves, and about 45 minutes later he paddles up with a fully cooked lobster on the prow of his ship on a little paper plate which was quite a site for someone who has only seen lobster served in fancy restaurants. Anyway it was apparently the best lobster Boyfriend has ever had and worth every penny.
Lunch is included in this little getaway (dinghy lobster is extra as you already know), and it was very nice: fish, coconut rice, fried plantains, just generally yummy stuff. They also had vegetarian options!
 |
| Unsuccessfully trying not to be obnoxious and smug. |
"Getting wet" turned out to be the understatement of the trip. This was a ferry but it still went fast, and we were therefore getting smacked with massive walls of sea spray at about 500mph (yeah yeah not really but still). Here are the phases we, the 8 people in the last rows, went through on that one hour boat ride:
Phase 1 (first 5 minutes): laughing and shrieking
Phase 2 (next 5 minutes): covering faces with hats and making jokes about these being Prime Seats
Phase 3 (next 10 minutes): absolutely soaked, eyes burning with sea water, making tense jokes that we should put on our goggles and snorkles
Phase 4: (next 5 minutes) putting on goggles and snorkels, incredulously laughing about it
Phase 5: (remaining 40 minutes of ride) grimly staring ahead through goggles, getting absolutely pummeled by thick sea spray seeming spewed out by Poseidon himself, just making out the silhouettes of the people sitting up front in the "bad seats" (they seem to be pointing in our direction and laughing... surely we don't look ridiculous: soaked to the bone, wearing goggles and snorkels, while sitting on a boat, right?), heatedly saying "never again" under our breath, pondering Colombian maritime law and the likelihood of qualifying for a multi-million dollar settlement, etc.
Really though, it was fine. The whole day was awesome. I just suggest sitting in the back on the way there and way WAY in the front on the way back.
If you think you get a picture of us during that debacle, the answer is a firm "You are no longer my friend." Also we tried but it would have been like taking your phone out underwater so no go.
There transpired a small detail here that I will tell you personally if you like but should not be added to the blog.
A bit further out - castles and convents
The next day we hired a fabulous cab driver (contact info below) to take us on a jam-packed day since we wanted to see lots of historical things and famous places but also go to another famous beach called Baru. We started out a bit further away from the center of town, making our way to "the castle" which is really a fortress. As fortresses go I would say it is "average." If you're a detail-oriented history nut you will go positively crazy for it; if you're not you'll do an obligatory lap and check it off your list and move on. |
| The words "fortress turret" can be rearranged to spell Surfer Trotters, and I think we can all agree that's crucial. |
We then went to La Popa. I recommend going to this beautiful former convent because it has an amazing view of Cartagena, and a vast collection of (of course!) bills from what must be every country in the world displayed on the walls.
 |
| La Popa |
The walled city
From there we went to spend some day time in the old town, aka the walled city. We had gone there a few times in the evenings to walk around and shop and check out restaurants that had been recommended to us (I'll include them at the end), but seeing it in the day time is a MUST! The tiny streets are bursting with colorful buildings and flowers. As you can tell by the name, there is a big wall around all of this, a remnant of when the Spanish needed to protect their (stolen) land from pirates. You can walk along the wall and even go to one of two restaurants that are located ON it. |
| A vendor in the walled city |
 |
| Locals and tourists milling around in old town. |
Barú
After a very full morning of site seeing and walking around, our amazing driver, Eloy, drove us the 40 minute route to the town of Barú. On our way I was chatting with the driver (Boyfriend was kind of zoning out since my countless Spanish lessons on him never really took). So I'm telling the driver my best stories, which all revolved around the fruit I had tried so far in Colombia. This is something I could easily talk about for 45-50 minutes with no interruption, but he managed to get a word in and mention that there was a street-side guanábana stand that we would be passing soon and we could stop. It was called "The Guanabana King" and they sell juice of this amazing fruit with the pulp still in it. This event may have been one of the top five happiest moments in my life. |
| Take my money. |
We roll up to the turnoff to get to the parking lot for the beach, and there are about 6 local boys (tall, very dark skinned, skinny teens, probably 16-22 years old) waving us over to talk with them. Our driver told us that these boys were pretending to be attendants for the lot, but they were actually relatives of people running restaurants on the beach with no written prices for food. Their specialty is having you order food and then telling you that your simple lunch cost about $150 usd and you can't argue because you already ate it (flashes of Nico's massage flickered through my mind, I nodded to convey my veteran wisdom in this matter). The boys corral you early on and bring you to these restaurants. So he says we're going to ignore them. This approach was fine with us. However, the teens were not too keen on it, and started yelling at him, then chasing the car, then jumping onto the moving car which forced our driver to stop. At this point Boyfriend and I are exchanging looks like "we're about to become combatants in a Colombian brawl," and I'm just happy my last meal was Guanabana juice. But our driver simply rolled down his window and in a voice that was insanely calm (keep in mind he is looking out his window at the stomach of a local teen who has mounted his car), said, "Get down." And the teens yelled some more, and he said, "Get down, get off the car." And they got off. And we went into the beach.
You should know that you can reach Barú from Cartagena by boat if you book with one of the excursion companies, which would circumnavigate the driving/parking/car-attacking issues.
Somewhat tense from that altercation (our driver was unfazed), boyfriend and I spent all day at a reputable place with written prices that featured a 3-step distance from the water. I don't know the name of this place, but apparently there are 3 restaurants (out of dozens) that have menus with prices on them, so just ask to see the prices before you eat and you'll be good. Maybe take a picture of them just in case.
 |
| Here is Barú! Worth it if you go with our driver, but if you want to completely unwind and not worry about being scammed, just go with the Bora Bora trip. |
Did I mention that you should eat as much fruit as possible? There are all sorts of exotic fruits you've probably never heard of.
Arepas. Arepas are translated as "corn patties" and that is a massive disservice because it makes them sound strange. You need to order them (plain, with cheese, with eggs, with meat if you're gross) and eat them at least once a day.
 |
| An arepa with fresh mango juice; this meal was about $6 usd at a fancy golf place (ask Boyfriend). I was assuming it would cost 4 times that much. |
Suggestions:
For the Bora Bora trip: we went with Rosario Beach Club. Lunch and a boat ride to and from the island was included, all told it was less than $200 for both of us and the "VIP" row of cabanas.Get in touch with our driver. He's super nice and tries to practice his English but if you speak Spanish it's probably better (duh). His name is Eloy and he communicates mostly with WhatsApp: +57 301 585*
*rest of number separated to avoid bot dials: 5570. He was a lifesaver with transportation but also with advice and warnings about ripoffs around town.
Go to "El carbon de palo" restaurant. It's not one of the fancy ones in old town (though we loved those too, try Juan del Mar and 1621); it's in the Bocagrande zone, which is where most of the hotels are. We ate here 3 nights in a row because we loved it so much. The food was amazing, the service was embarrassingly good, and they had multiple live music acts every night. The music was always chill though; think more "quizás" than mariachi-style.
 |
| Guanábana juice and cheesy arepas at Carbon de Palo. I want to marry this situation. |
Get local money. Save yourself the stress of asking cab drivers if they take American money as they hold up traffic waiting for you. Things are very reasonably priced; most of our cabs to and from the walled city were $5.
Have fun and let me know what you think!
xoxo
