Goodbye, Caribbean!

The day after we arrived in Cartagena we went to explore the old town, the city's main attraction. It's a really nice, well-preserved Colonial town, surrounded by a wall you can walk around on. We walked around the walls a bit, got icecreams and visited a couple of bookshops, but most things were quite expensive so nothing more.

Statue of a vulture?

There was a whole bunch of these guys round doing a whole bunch of different things.

These tags are from Getsemanì, the cheaper neighbourhood near the walled-off centre.

We then spent a couple of days sitting around in the hostel being generally hot and not doing much. Halloween happened around then, so we went to the market to buy a variety of delicious tropical fruits (who knew how many kinds of tasty-as-fuck passionfruit-like fruits there are?) which we juiced and mixed with rum.

After Callum and Ariel went to Medellìn, I went to this place:

How to take photo of thing with weird shadow :/

This was, for a few years, the centre of the Inquisition in Latin America. However I think it was mostly an administrative centre, because now, while it's a museum full of torture devices, most of them say on their sign that they weren't actually used in the building. But fuck it, it was interesting, so here's some creative ways to hurt people:

Scale to find out if you're a witch.

I probably should've taken photos of what these things are actually for...

Table of witchcraft

I'm pretty sure this thing was for crushing chins.

This one was for crushing fingernails.

Person-stretcher.

A nice necklace.

 

This guy had problems with drawing eyes I think...

The next day I visited the Castle of San Felipe de Barajas. This was built by the Spanish to fight pirates, and was never taken.

Wish I'd known about this. I'd never consider trying to see the Royal Family in NZ, but would've been all over it here!

One of the more interesting things about the castle is the whole thing is full of tunnels. Unfortunately, there isn't much in said tunnels.

Old-school hospital

The day after the Castle, I left Cartagena for Santa Marta, which doesn't have much going for it except as a stopping point for the rest of the Caribbean Coast. I stayed a night there then started the 4-5 day trek to the Ciudad Perdida (Lost City).

The trek started in a small town called El Mamey (themselves.   Pelea: machete fight). The first day was about 4 hours up a hill then down the other side.

Top of the hill.

A lot of the path was like this. Luckily we got basically no rain, but it'd be hellish if it was wet.

Our stop for the first night. There was a cool little waterfall we could jump off, and much delicious food to be had.

The 2nd day was about 7 rarely-flat hours to reach the camping place before the ruins themselves.

Traditional village, currently empty. They only really use their villages when they have meetings and celebrations and so on, and spend the rest of the time on their fields munching on coca leaf. 

Who needs a tripod? 

The 3rd day started off pretty easy, until we came to the entrance of the ruins, which is 1200 steps. Even without rain they were slippery, and I can't even imagine making the things 400 years ago...

Near the entrance to the ruins. The majority of the ruins are circles like this, which were the bases for houses or whatever was needed. The ones near the entrance were the market area I believe.

Much of the site had to be reconstructed. Some archaeologist said there should be a wall at the top of the photo and it was built before they realised it was a staircase. Silly archaeologists. 

More fucking stairs.

This is what life's about. The location was truly breathtaking. Anyone got some spare hair though? :( 

Due to recent (though I'm not sure how recent) guerrilla activity, there's about 60 soldiers permanently posted at the ruins. 

If I remember correctly the guide said these were the punishment unit for the locals. If they broke rules they'd have to live in these houses away from their families, and were assigned hard physical work. The men are also deprived of their coca leaves. 

This guy didn't think he could make it all the way back so he hired a mule for the last 2 days. 

The chef saw this guy and excitedly took photos with all our cameras. 

Our last swim, of which we had many. 

After the trek, I stayed a couple of days in Santa Marta, not realising that my next destination was so close. The bus to Taganga from Santa Marta is about 15 minutes over a hill, so I had most of a day free. I'd read about the dive safaris offered by one dive shop in town, Calipso Divers, so I signed up for one with the intention of staying a few more days in Taganga then heading up the coast further. Because I arrived a day later than the safari left, the next day I got driven in to the park on an old road that's been torn up by years of abusive bus drivers. Then the boat took me to where I was staying, the then-deserted Playa del Amor (beach of love). I did 2 dives during the day that day, and 1 at night, and completely fell in love with diving again. Being able to chill on the empty beach and read and chat was the icing on the cake.

Epic hammock from La Guajira, a really remote desert peninsula near the border with Venezuela. Apparently they cost about NZ$400, but this one cost 2 dive courses. 

The second night, after more dives, I chatted with the owner of Calipso, Roberto, who told me about the logistics of operating so deep in the national park, and the politics of being able to do so. Essentially they're the only dive shop that's allowed to due to some combination of tradition and the fact that they ran a coral restoration program, where they grew broken fragments of coral into pieces that could be transplanted back into nature. However, sometime in the last few years the national park management decided they didn't want to continue investing and cut off the project. Naturally Roberto was pissed off coz he just wants to carry on, and now that it's all established doesn't even need their money, but despite that they aren't keen to let him continue.

After a couple of days in Taganga, hanging out with all the cool cats there I went back and signed up for a 2-day coral specialisation program they have at Calipso, and during that trip, Roberto proposed that I stay on to do a dive master course and then work for him through the high season (which runs late December-late January). I thought about it a bit and signed up.

So I dove every day for a while, and had a blast hanging out with the folks in the hostel in Taganga (including a baller as fuck Thanksgiving Dinner) and drinking too much maracuyà juice.

A couple of weeks later a bit of shit happened, including me getting chikungunya (look it up, it fucking sucks) and being barely able to walk for a few days at a time, with fever and fatigue and so on. Supposedly the symptoms can come back every week or 2 for a few months, and I wasn't enjoying the diving so much, so I sadly left Taganga to travel to Medellìn with 2 good friends. This was an ordeal in itself, having to carry my pack and everything around when every step was agony, but here I am.