Exploring every pirate's paradise

We left Bogotá on the 20 hour bus ride for Santa Marta on the Colombian Caribbean coast with great anticipation – we had checked out the weather forecast and, after 6 months of almost perpetual mountain chilliness, the 35° - 45°C temperatures on the coast seemed like a dream come true! And after the refrigerator-like air-conditioning on the bus, stepping out into the moist heat of Santa Marta was a huge relief. But that only lasted a few minutes – as soon as we were plodding along a furnace-like street towards our hostel, dripping sweat and feeling like our brains were being boiled in our skulls, we decided that 47°C was perhaps just a tad TOO warm for us. :) Thankfully our hostel had a pool, and as soon as we had dumped our bags, we jumped in. I was slightly surprised that our skin didn’t make a sizzling noise when it hit the water :P We spent a fun couple of days in the cool ‘party hostel’ (La Brisa Loca), swimming, drinking in the bar and watching the constant mating dances of the various other young guests. :P When we felt we had acclimatised at least slightly, we decided we were ready to do some exploring, and headed out to Tayrona National Park, a small park not far outside the city renowned for its fabulous beaches. Despite the fact that it is more like a city park than a national park (full security check before entering – no alcohol, drugs, plastic bags, knives etc. allowed – the guards had collected a nice little pile of contraband, including a litre bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label which we were sure they were going to sample themselves that night!) and pretty crowded, the beaches really lived up to their reputations! After a hot but very beautiful hour-long walk through the rainforest, we rounded a rocky headland and were treated to our first real glimpse of the Caribbean Sea (the narrow, crowded and dusty beach in Santa Marta didn’t really count). It was just the way the postcards depict it – white sand, brilliant blue water, coconut palms….heaven! J We walked another hour or so along the beautiful cost line to Cabo San Juan de la Guía camping area. Although it was horrendously overpriced, the amazing location right on the beach in a sheltered little bay convinced us to stay the night in tent, and the sunrise swim was definitely worth it :) 

Our first glimpse of the Caribbean Sea after a hot walk in Tayrona National Park

Beautiful beaches as far as the eye can see in Tayrona

The expensive put wonderfully located campsite in Cabo San Juan

Sunrise over the beach in Cabo San Juan

Sunrise over the prefect little bay in Cabo San Juan

The lovely little bay in  Cabo San Juan

Does it get any better than this?

Upon our return from the park, deciding the constant partying in La Brisa Loca was making us feel old, we headed to Taganga – a tiny fishing village-turned-tourist-town just outside Santa Marta. Set in a brilliantly blue little bay, the little town is an interesting mixture of run-down fishing village and hip party spot. The waterfront is lined with bars and outdoor eateries, but many of the streets are unpaved and the bay is full of old wooden cutters in need of paint. We loved the town’s eclectic feel from the beginning and spent a couple of relaxing days swimming at the nearby beaches, drinking beer on the promenade and wandering the dusty streets. We were even treated to an impressive tropical deluge one day – the skies opened and the rain fell in sheets, turning the roads to muddy rivers which then flowed into the bay, turning it the dusty red of the surrounding hills. 

The tiny little village of Taganga

 After a few days in the northeast during which we had well and truly settled into the relaxed pace of the coast, we headed west to the amazingly beautiful old city of Cartagena. Arriving in the old part of town is like steeping into a Pirates of the Caribbean movie - cobbled alleys, vibrantly coloured colonial houses, balconies shrouded in bougainvillea, palm-fringed squares and kilometres of impressive stone walls to protect against the would-be pillagers of yesteryear. We stayed in a tiny little hostel in the middle of a more run-down part of town where crumbling colonial buildings were slowly starting to be re-furbished, but many rustic ruins remain. We loved the flair of the place, where life is lived on the street – everyone has chairs outside their houses, kids play soccer and baseball while their elders sit in the shade, fanning themselves, gossiping and sipping cool drinks. There was one man who was very obviously the self-proclaimed king of our little lane – a very tubby middle-aged character who, perpetually shirtless, half in and half out of a road-side window, guzzling can after can of beer and bellowing cheerfully at everyone and everything at regular intervals. J

The main entrance to Cartagena's old town through the city's defensive walls

Wandering around in down-town Cartagena - every corner invites a picture

On top of the walls built to keep pirates out - didn't stop Sir Francis Drake!

Flying the national colours on the city walls

Fútbol! The life-blood of Colombia.

Great street art in Cartagena 

The 'king' of our street - flaunting his stuff :) 

Who says vultures aren't cultured? This one is a very cultured vulture - sitting on top of the theatre :) 

 Although we loved the city itself, we had come to Cartagena mainly because it was the starting point for a journey we had been looking forward to for months – a sailing trip to Panama. So, after some shopping around (we discovered that the captains seem to have made a deal with each other to all offer exactly the same – very steep – price), we booked a lovely little cabin on a 16m, twin-mast yacht by the name of ‘Spray’. Owned by a crusty old Italian named Claudio and a smiley Colombian called José, the beautiful little boat was to be our home for the next 5 days. We lugged our baggage on board the next afternoon and met our shipmates – two young Swiss boys, a girl from Holland and a guy from Israel (luckily we all go along, or the trip could have turned out to be horrible!). We left port just after sunset and set sail for the open sea – 40 hours without sighting land, surrounded by nothing but endlessly rolling blue waves. It was an amazing feeling to sit on deck, feel the salt breeze in our faces and the rolling of the swell beneath us, imagining how incredibly tiny our nut-shell of a boat was compared to the immense expanse of water surrounding us. The first night I was feeling a little woozy and so slept on deck, and I woke sometime in the early hours of the morning to the most amazing lightening show I have ever seen – the sky over us and all around us was illuminated every few seconds, and the dazzling flashes were reflected double-fold in the waves. I felt literally like I was sitting in the eye of the storm, inside a dome of light – amazing!!

Luckily the storm passed without causing us any trouble, and the rest of the trip on the open ocean went smoothly. After two nights and one day of sailing, sunbathing and sea-gazing, we finally spotted our destination on the horizon – the series of tiny, palm-studded atolls that make up the Archipiélago de San Blas. If you close your eyes and imagine the Caribbean island of your dreams, then you come pretty close to imagining what the islands in San Blas look like. Perfect little uninhabited sandy islands full of palm trees and ringed by the most brilliantly turquoise water. We spent two amazing days moored near two consecutive islands, swimming, snorkelling, wandering over the tiny islands, practicing our diving style from the yachts railing, sunbathing (in my case a little too much – ouch!), beach combing, fishing, drinking and generally having a wonderful time. To make things even better, we got along really well with the others on board, and were fed wonderful food every night by our fantastic hosts – no tinned meat and crackers here – we had everything from roast pork and gravy to marinated ribs with salad! And luckily we had also stocked up on alcoholic supplies before leaving port, so no-one ever had to utter the classic Jack Sparrow line; “Why is the rum always gone?’ :) All in all, the prefect Caribbean sailing adventure!

In the harbour, ready to board our trusty nutshell :) 

Claudio, our authentically crusty Captain

Our cosy cabin

The view from the window of our cabin in the morning - heaven!!

Sailing into the blue unknown...

Can't get more prefect than this! San Blas Islands

José guiding the way

The emptly masts swaying in the breeze when  we were moored

Sunset over the islands...we are in heaven :)

Wandering over a sandy island - no need for shoes, sand between your toes :D

THE stereotypical picture of the Caribbean :) 

Ultra-blue water...

Huge!! Come into my cooking pot lovely lobster.... :P

Portobelo in Panama - the end of our sailing adventure

Bogotá - the city of light

We rolled into Bogotá not sure if we were ready to swap the peace of the coffee area for what we expected to be a large and stressful city. After our rather negative impression of Quito, the last capital city we visited, we didn’t have high hopes for Bogotá. But life is full of surprises, and the Colombian capital was one of them. The hostel recommended to us by friends volunteering in the old part of town turned out to be great – our room was huge and clean with an incredibly comfortable bed, the staff were friendly and a yummy breakfast was included in the price! On top of that, it was just around the corner from where our friends were working, so we always had someone to catch up with for dinner/drinks in the evening. J The old part of town, La Candelaria, offered a wealth of great, super-cheap eateries and small watering holes peppered throughout its maze of cobblestone streets, and we had great fun exploring the countless tiny squares and alleys. And despite the presence of a few druggie-looking beggars, we didn’t feel the area had earned its bad reputation – we never felt unsafe, even at night.

On our second day in the city we made use of the great public transport system and hopped on the TransMilenio (very crowded but super-efficient system of buses which run on special lanes throughout the city and thus bypass the perpetual traffic jams) to head to famous Catedral de Sal in Zipaquirá. The efficiency of public transport in so many places we have visited down here never ceases to amaze me – even though it may seem completely chaotic and nothing is centrally organised, it always works perfectly – and this was once again the case on our trip to the salt mines; no sooner had we got off the bus at the last stop on the TransMilenio line than we were ushered into a waiting bus which would take us directly to Zipaquirá. An hour later we were there, and after a short walk up a steep hill (our altitude adaption is a thing of the past it seems!), we were at the gaping mouth of the 180m deep salt mine. Even just waiting to go in was an experience, standing there, staring into the absolute darkness of the entrance, feeling the cool, moist air drifting out towards us. The slightly creepy feeling was exacerbated by the fact that someone had positioned a dummy just inside the entrance, and one of its arms had broken and was hanging down from its shoulder in a grotesque way, making it look eerily like an injured miner staggering towards the light… (I don’t think this was intentional, but it was certainly effective!)   

Our sense of expectation was not disappointed when we entered the mine – walking down, down, down on the slightly slippery compacted salt, surrounded on all sides by dark walls (I expected white, due to the salt, but apparently the salt is mixed with impurities and is thus quite dark in colour), with the knowledge that hundreds of tonnes of earth and salt are pressing down on you from above. And in addition to the already quite surreal atmosphere of the mine, it has been illuminated with a dreamlike array of colourful lighting, making you feel like you are entering a completely different universe. The first section of the tunnel system leading towards the main chamber contains a series of side halls housing crosses and abstract salt-carvings representing the Stations of the Cross (Jesus on his way to be crucified). Although these side chambers were fascinating in themselves, they were nothing compared to the enormous main chamber housing the cathedral itself; 75m long and 18m high, dominated by a 15m high cross,  the yawning cavern seems to swallow all who enter. Standing between the pews and looking up, we felt about as big as ants. We are not church people at all, and maybe it was just the lighting, or the knowledge that we were separated from the real world by more than 180 of earth, but this place was simply awe-inspiring (the kind of place that makes you whisper and tip-toe). After soaking up the atmosphere in the main chamber, we then spent ages exploring the maze of tunnels and chambers which contain everything from smaller chapels and spookily still salt pools to cafés and gift shops: There is a whole little village down there! We even stumbled into a huge room with a roof full of LEDs – we sat down and were treated to a very psychedelic light & music show – almost like being at a rave underground. After several hours in the mine, we stumbled out into the light, blinking and slightly dazed, feeling as if we were waking from a crazy dream. The Catedral de Sal has to be the weirdest, and at the same time, most wonderful church we have ever seen. 

One of the many smaller chambers on the way to the main cathedral - this one had a polished marble floor which reflected the lighted cross 

The colossal main chamber - 18m high and with an enormous cross - we wondered how such a massive structure could be suspended like that, then, upon getting closer, realised it was actually carved into the back wall of the chamber

The optical illusion is revealed!

Interesting replica of the famous Sistine Chapel painting - in a recess in the floor of the cathedeal

A coffee shop 180m underground - that is a first!

Crazy light show in a side chamber

A small side tunnel in the massive main chamber, lighted in away that makes you want to explore..

In some places where water seeps in, you are reminded that you are actually in a massive salt mine

On our third and final day in the Colombian capital, we visited the city’s pride and joy – the famous Gold Museum. An amazingly well thought out and presented museum full of the most amazing gold work dating from long before the arrival of the Spanish colonists. It was fascinating to read about the sophisticated gold-smith methods the pre-Hispanic peoples of Colombia developed – including my favourite,  the ‘lost wax method’, which involved making very detailed wax models, encasing them in clay, then pouring liquid gold in through a small tube so that it melted and replaced the wax mould inside. Break open the clay, and ta-da!, you have a perfect gold replicate of whatever you had formed out of wax. Interestingly, when the Spanish conquistadors arrived and saw some figures and jewellery made in this way with fingerprints on them, they were convinced that the Colombians had magical powers and were able to handle and shape gold with their bare hands J (the fingerprints were in fact left on the wax models with which the gold items were made). In addition to being incredibly beautiful, the more than 34,000 gold objects displayed in the Museo del Oro also gave us a fascinating insight into the cultural and spiritual traditions of pre-Hispanic Colombian society, including everything from the jewellery of past kings to ritual decorations worn by ancient shamans. And best of all, our wander through the museum came to an end with a spectacular light and music show designed to highlight the spiritual importance of gold in Colombia’s past. We were starting to understand that Bogotá was a city obsessed with the inventive use of light – and our final destination in the city confirmed our suspicions (see below).

What I fist took to be an alien skull turned out to be a shell covered with gold leaves

A king's golden helmet

A slightly scary ceremonial mask

One of the museum's prize pieces - a tiny golden flying fish

Some of the work is amazingly fine and detailed - like these filigree earrings 

The golden outfit of a past king

Another of the museum's famous pieces - a female figure in her ceremonial splendor

Some of the masks were astonishingly life-life

The mesmerising final light show

After emerging from the glimmering world of gold, we were treated to a personal tour of inner-city Bogotá by a lovely Austrian girl we had met in the coffee area and who was completing an internship in the capital. She and her friendly Colombian workmate took us through the pigeon-flooded governmental quarter, showing us the presidential residence, the congress and the judicial building which had to be completely rebuilt following a bombing attack by the FARC in the 90s. They also led us through the Botero Museum (free!!), a wonderful collection of Botero’s own works, as well as many paintings and sculptures by dozens of other artists including Picasso, Miró and Monet. And last but not least they took us up the city’s tallest building, the Colpatria Tower (incredible security measures, including mug-shots and fingerprints!), which, as well as offering an amazing view over the city, also displays one of the most elaborate moving LED-shows we have ever seen – it seems Bogotá is striving to overtake Paris as the new ‘city of light’ J

As we were leaving the city the next morning, we both agreed it had been one of the nicest capitals we have visited on this trip so far – it might not be quite as beautiful as Buenos Aires or as happening as Santiago, but Bogotá is welcoming, friendly and somehow cool and funky in a very unique way. 

So many pigeons on Plaza de Bolívar!

Wandering through the cool and peaceful halls of the Botero Museum

The city of light - the view from the 48th floor of the Colpatria Tower

Photos don't do justice to the light show wrapped around the Colpatria Tower