A Travellerspoint blog

November 2008

Sicko

Plata o plomo en Colombia


View MAP OF THE JOURNEY on AnnaMickus's travel map.

Once we had crossed the Venezuelan border and we were back safe and sound in Colombia in a shady border town on a creepy bus station we were delighted to notice that a bus was just about to leave for Santa Marta on the Colombian coast. We jumped on the bus and it immediately started rolling. Sometimes we’re just amazed how the luck can so be on our side with these bus departures... (And sometimes it is equally amazing how the luck can suck so badly...)

From Santa Marta it was only a 15min taxi ride to our destination, Taganga, a small village in a bay on the Caribbean coast. So we jumped in a yellow match box car and off we went. Once in Taganga, a toothless smelly homeless guy showed us the way to Techos Azules, the place where we wanted to stay. We stayed the first night in a smelly bunker (well that’s the only choice you sometimes get when you’re stupid enough to show up in the middle of the night), and then next morning we switched to a lovely room with a beautiful view over the bay and the village. Niiice. We had arrived!

Taganga-Vi..TheRoom.jpg
View from our room. That's the village down in the bay

Taganga-Barber.jpg
Mickus went to this cute gay barber who gave him a blow job

The plan was to stay just a couple of days in Taganga and then head to Tayrona, a national park on the coast just east from here. But oh, how wrong we were. We should already know by now that you shouldn’t make any plans. They get screwed anyway. It didn’t take long before Mickus suddenly got this terrible diarrhoea accompanied by a really high fever. Not so niiiiice.

It took a lot of rest and a lot of antibiotics to get that one under control. But on the bright side, we had the opportunity to get to know Taganga better and best of all, find this excellent restaurant that served the best fish and best langoustines we’ve ever had. We became regular customers. We also made a day trip to Santa Marta, a dirty little town with nothing special to write home about. But we managed to by some food and snorkelling gear for our trip to the national park! We were ready to go!

Taganga-Street.jpg

Once Mickus was back on his feet again we decided to do what we had come for: go to Tayrona, the place everybody we had met had been raving about. It turned out to be harder than expected to get there. You see, the rainy season had been going on now longer than expected, so the roads were kind of in bad shape and the ocean was a bit rough. We decided to get a boat there because that was the easiest way to get there. To our disappointment the last boat had already left when we got to the shore and the Israelis that we could have shared a boat with had such a bad hangover that they decided to postpone their trip. Nice. So we walked back with our heavy backpacks to our hostel where the guy had just finished cleaning our room. Surprise! We’re back!

The next day we packed our bags again and headed to the beach again, this time so early that we for sure wouldn’t miss the last boat. This time, to our disappointment, a captain and his crew were sitting on the shore looking bored. They explained to us that the sea was too rough and dangerous to make the trip that day. It would be risky to try to get to Tayrona, let alone get into the shore of the park. Great! We wouldn’t believe them. We spoke with another captain, and he was happy to take us as long as we got a bigger group to go with us. After a while we had managed to gather a group of five; two Spanish guys and a Canadian girl were eager to get there as well. By this time captain number 2 had got the news about the rough sea and refused to take us. It would be too risky. Great.
To our astonishment captain number 1 now came up to us and informed that the waters had suddenly calmed down and that he would be happy to take us. But of course for a little bit more that the price we had agreed on earlier. Of course.

Well hopefully the waters would be calmer now, we thought, and jumped in the boat. The beginning of the trip went excellently, and we were wondering what all that fuss about too big waves had all been about. But then suddenly the waves grew bigger and bigger... It got rougher all the time and soon everybody had to hang on for dear life so that they wouldn’t fall off the boat that was being seriously rocked by the 3m waves that were surrounding it. As an extra twist it started pouring down so that the captain could hardly see where we were going. We were just amazed that he had even taken us out in this god forsaken weather to risk all our lives. I just tried to hold on to the boat and keep myself calm, which required a lot of skills as I was watching the huge waves that we were riding forcefully hit the big cliffs just meters from us. When we had been on our way for about an hour and a half, the waves were getting just bigger, the rain wouldn’t stop and one of the Spanish guys was repeatedly crying out that we were going to die, the captain decided were not going to make it all the way to Tyrona. We had to take a break at a nearby beach and then return to Tanganga where we arrived a few hours later. We were cursed. We would never get to Tayrona.

You can imagine the amazement of the landlord when we came back once again. This time they hadn’t even bothered to clean our room.

This was yesterday. Today it is rainy again and the sea is still rough. And supposedly the roads have literally rained away, so to get there by car isn’t an option either. Regrettably we have decided to skip Tayrona and head for Cartagena. Who wants to be on a beach in the rain anyway?

Posted by AnnaMickus 16:41 Archived in Colombia Comments (0)

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