Cartagena, returning to the ocean and the good life

Well hello. I guess its been a while since Ive written. I guess its a lot harder when you are on beaches and in the jungle to find Internet access. I have been enjoying myself immensely, the weather is a heck of a lot better in this part of the world. After arriving in Cartagena with my dad, we spent a few days just exploring the old city and basically I just tried to acustubrarme with the really hot weather. We headed to a great beach, of which there is a picture, and slept in some of the more rustic beds that my day and I have ever slept in. But the beach was great, and it was really nice to see my dad. We then headed up ther coast to see Santa Marta, a town where while we were there beer reigned supreme. I mean me were just in the streets drinkin ALL the time, later we learned it was the middle of vacation, and Columbian independence day. I just liked eating good food and paying more than 3 dollars for a place to sleep in, one that didnt involve bedbugs and other friends.

My dad left after only a week, and I went to the Ciudad Perdida (literally lost city). It was an incredible 3 day hike in through jungle and crossing multiple rivers. I hiked mainly with an English chap named Rupert. Every day we would get to cool off after hiking in these pristine river pools which really increased the enjoyment of the trip. My bag on the other hand has not smelled the same since, and actually need to be cleaned quite desperately. The ciudad perdida was the capital of the Tayrona Indians who lived in the Sierra Nevada. This mountain range just rises from the coast of Columbia, and in where the legend of El Dorado was started, as early Spanish settlers had easy access to it, and the Indians had an incredible amount of gold. The trail used to be impassible, but is now quite safe due to the militares who kicked the guerrillas out of the mountains, and now keep about 50 men at the city at all times, armed with the latest weaponry (see photo). Everything about the hike was just amazing, and on returning I stayed with Rupert in Tagunga for the final days of the festival. We then went to the national parque Tayrona, which is just a beach with a few hammocks on it. We slept on the beach, in the hammocks, and basically enjoyed ourselves thoroughly for a few nights.

I then left Rupert, along with a nice Swissso on the beach and continued back to Cartagena to catch a flight to Panama, land of surf and fun. I had booked everything, including a private bus back to Cartagena, thinking it would be safer, well I was wrong. The bus arrived on time, and we left Santa Marta at 3:30 as advertised, but when we arrived in Barranquilla we met lots of traffic. Apparently the president was there, and as is customary with presidents they cause lots of problems in the city they are visiting (thanks Bush for making my 20 minute commute 2 hours in LA). So we left the city late, and it was getting dark. Now I know what you´re thinking, ¨¨the guerillas come at night¨. You would be right, but the President Uribe has really taken control of the security situation there, and I therefore did not expect any problems. Yet, when we were aburptly stopped by a burning tire thrown into the middle of the road I knew I was done for. I was going to be kidnapped and that was it. I was the only gringo within 150 km and the guerillas had stopped traffic in a small carribean town on the coast of Columbia. Incidentally, the door of the van had broken earlier on this epic trip, so my only defense was the Patagonia windbreaker which Martha, Max´s mom had supplied before the trip. After throwing the hood over my head, we waited. However, the more time that passed the more it looked like it was going to be alright. Apparently the locals had become fed up with their lack of elctricity and decided to do something about it, and that something was a roadblock. We made one manuever so that we werent the first car, and as I sweated my head off in the jacket our driver tried to figure a way out, as we were only 25 km from Cartagena. The whole time I just thought that if anyone knew there was a gringo, I was done for: everyone in the car agreed it would be better if they didnt find out. So when we walked over the roadblock to a waiting van I kept a low profile. Entonces, everything turned out alright, except for the next day when the hotel I was staying in was hit by lighting, and then I left the country.

I arrived in Panama, bought a surfboard: A 6 foot six shortboard, some wax and sunscreen, and have been on the playa Venao staying at an eco lodge for backpackers and other very interesting characters for a week now. I have really valued this time to just relax, and as there is a 7 foot swell set to arrive wednesday, it looks like Ill be here a while

I need to relate the charaters I met on the way here, maybe tomorrow...I need to sleep to surf!