Tuesday, February 8
We were sad to say goodbye to our hosts, Kathia and Jorge, and to the town of Barichara. We got into a taxi and he drove us to the airport in Bucaramanga which was about a 3.5 hour drive. We took the “main road” which conveys all the big rigs and all the taxis and all the personal cars through the steep, windy canyons of Santander. For my Californians out there, imagine the traffic from the 5 on a road like Highway 1. This is not an exaggeration. And it is common to pass two or three trucks at once, just in time before turning a corner, next to a cliff. Our driver played a playlist he had titled “THE BEST” which included the WORST American music, basically 80s hits and dad rock. So Carl and I had our headphones in for the ride.
The Bucaramanga airport is unique because it sits on the very top of a mesa – with a view across the valley of the city on an opposite mesa.
Upon arriving in Santa Marta we had another drive, for one hour, to the Naranjos area where there were very nice but reasonably priced hotels on the beach. The hotel our travel agency picked was actually their second pick because the first was full, so we didn’t know what to expect. Walking up, it was like walking into a paradise. The trees that lined the path bowed with the weight of beautiful bright pink and red flowers. When we entered the lobby we saw two pools nestled between palm thatched huts and the ocean waves lapping just beyond a pretty, exotic garden.
The woman at the front desk spoke very fast. There were many instructions for checking in and we were pretty tired from traveling all day. She said something would happen at eight and when I politely asked her to repeat she said “oooccchhoo”. So I stopped asking and nodded along. No matter, they fed us dinner even though we had arrived late and I think it was the best chicken I’ve had in a while. When she showed us our room we couldn’t believe it. We had a wrap around porch right on the beach!
Wednesday, February 9
With no real plans for the day, we decided to see if we could hike into the Tyrona National Park which was located right next to us, across a sand spit. The day started cloudy but as soon as the sun came out we could feel it beating down on us. We managed to cross the sand spit -despite the strong current of the river pushing into the ocean and the ocean waves hitting us – and then saw a sign saying watch out for crocodiles near the river mouth. 😬
We ambled along the beach and eventually found a trail into the park. The flora and fauna was like the Amazon but flatter and sandier. We walked for a little bit until it appeared the trail had been closed so we walked back to the beach. As we meandered back, Carl spotted a ripe coconut and deftly knocked it down with one throw of a rock. He then brought it to a big piece of driftwood on the beach and used the rock to crack it open. It took a while, but not as long as I expected. Finally he was able to drip some coconut water into his mouth. Some other people came by and ogled at him, looking jealous. As Carl started to get into the meat of the coconut, the National Park police showed up. Apparently the whole park was closed until the 15th. We apologized for trespassing and quickly left. We offered them some coconut but they said no, gracias.
Upon returning back to our hotel we ran into some other Californians staying there. We found out that the guy, Keegan, lives in Sn Francisco and his girlfriend, Lanni, lives in Puerto Rico, and they were vacationing for 2 weeks in Colombia. We spent some time in the pool chatting with them and then agreed to have dinner together that night.
Carl and I then walked into ‘town’ to find something authentic for lunch. We walked along the highway. There was no sidewalk and minimal shade. There was an occasional breeze and big rigs blasting us with a wake of hot air. The first road side shack we came to had lunch advertised but there was a child working the snack booth and I wasn’t confident that he knew proper food handling safety procedures. The next shack had woven palm leaf sides and a corrugated iron roof. It was dark inside but we could see there were several people sitting around a plastic table and an older woman in the kitchen. She looked like she knew what she was doing so we asked if they had lunch. They said yes and then everyone cleared out to let us have the one table. There was no menu but she offered us something in Spanish and we said sounds good. We asked for some bottled water and she said they weren’t cold because she didn’t have power but somehow she still had some ice that she kindly put into glasses for us. We normally share plates, especially lunch, but we hadn’t really ordered so we each got a full plate of food. The matriarch served us a whole fried fish: Mojarra Roja (like tilapia) and it was some of the best fish I’ve ever had. She also gave us salad, rice and fried plantains. Carl usually eats too fast and I usually eat too slow. I was especially slow picking out every bit of fish meat from the bones while swatting away all the flies. At one point she motioned to me how better to swat the flies away (slower broad sweeps, not tiny fast ones). While we ate people stopped by to say hello or buy things. At one point a younger guy showed up with a small box and inside were TWO chickens. An older man that had been hanging out grabbed the white one with black spots and held it like a pet. Then at one point he pulled something – a feather?- out from the wing. He then put this feather in his mouth and bit it? Flossed with it? I’ve never seen anyone do anything like this with a chicken so my memory fails me on exactly what he was doing but I just know I’ve never seen that before. They then threw the chicken in the yard across the highway and went about their day.
Finally it was time to pay (we made a gringo mistake of eating before asking the price!) and she told us 56,000 pesos which is about 14 dollars. So about $7 each for a huge plate of food and a cold bottle of water- not bad! She then delighted in learning how to say 56 in English and she repeated it to all of her family that started to filter in as we were leaving. We walked back to our hotel and read by the pool until dinner.
Having dinner with another couple was really fun because it felt very adult and sophisticated. Keegan was an amazing conversationalist and we got to know them and share our stories, all cracking up by the end of dinner. We agreed to visit him sometime in SF and maybe even go to burning man with them in the fall.
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