Change of Plans

Anyone who has been reading this has learned that crossing borders is not my forte. After my rendezvous at the Bolivian border, I should have known to research more thoroughly before trying to go anywhere new. While relaxing on a pristine beach a couple of nights ago, I was told of the problems I was going to have going into Panama this week sans my yellow fever certification. Much to my dismay, I got to Cartagena today to find that these rumors are true. You need a certificate dated more than 10 days ago to cross from South America to Central America. So a change of plans is now in order...looks like I'm staying in Colombia a little bit longer.

First things first, I have had an absolute blast with Anne for the past week and a half. She is from Dublin and our paths met my first day in San Gil. Somehow we have always seemed to be heading the same way so we've paved a path through Colombia together...sometimes leaving a bit of a wake behind. We've been through numerous beaches, jungle treks, hammocks, tents, cities and fiestas together. I was going to be very sad to say goodbye when I left for Panama on Wednesday. So the new alternative of staying really isn't bothering me too much at this point in time. I think there will actually be a bit of a celebration in it's honor this evening.

We spent two nights in on the beach in Taganga and worked on our ever-darkening tans. It was this great little beach town with one ATM (that didn't work the whole time I was there), about ten hostels and restaurants and bars galore. There were loads of hippies who came and decided never to leave, making their living by selling jewelry on the street. The beaches were crowded but not to the point of annoying. And the water was the perfect temperature for relief from the mid-afternoon sun. We met up with some people from earlier in our trip and stuck it out there, just relaxing and eating ceviche, before having to come over to Cartagena.

We basically lived out of day-packs the whole time we were in the Santa Marta area, so upon leaving Taganga we had to go grab all of our poorly packed belongings at a hostel in the city before quickly boarding a bus for Cartagena. Luckily we'd packed some warmer clothes on top and were able to grab them before boarding the frigid bus. This was the coldest one yet, and the 5.5 hours were almost unbearable. Even in the extreme heat and humidity, it was ridiculously cold. I just don't get it.

We got to Cartagena late Friday night and checked into a hostel that had been referred to us, although I'm not sure why. The price was right, and the air conditioning cranked way up, but the cockroaches and space cadet staff was a good reason to check out promptly the next morning. We had our hearts set on Playa Blanca, a beach just a 45 minute boat ride away.

We definitely went off the gringo trail on getting there. Following our Lonely Planet bible, we went to this shady little market early in the morning and jumped on a speed boat full of locals hoping that it would get us there in one piece. Our haggling skills are getting good, so we got them down to a decent price, and our feet touched the white, sandy beach an hour or so later.

Playa Blanca is a tourist beach, but a Colombian tourist beach, so we felt pretty off the beaten path while we were there. It is full of campsites for tents and hammocks. There are little restaurants serving up fresh fish, and just green Caribbean water as far as the eye can see. We ended up meeting an American who was working with a family there, and he promptly lured us into their campsite. We'd heard rumor that the bugs were worse there than in Tayrona, so opted for the tents instead of braving the nights in hammocks this time around. Although I brought my hammock and net, and it would've been cheaper, a couple nights of comfort was more on my mind at that point. Honestly, they were still pretty bad, even in the tents. My feet are scarred for life.

Either way, we indulged in our two nights on the beach. We got massages and drank piña coladas. We swam all day and ate the fantastic food the owner prepared for us. Nothing could really break our moods, until Anne thought she lost her camera (which was quickly found upon returning to Cartagena) and I got the shock that I needed a vaccine to go to Central America. It cut our two nights there a bit short, but we enjoyed it anyway realizing there was nothing we could do about it until today. So this morning we saw the sunrise over the water while taking the 6am motor taxi back into the city. It was a good ending to (possibly) the last time either of us will see the Caribbean in a while.

Upon arriving in Cartagena, I was on a mission to bribe a doctor to put a different date on my yellow fever certification, giving me the required ten days. The first thing was finding a doctor. I was in luck as the Centro Medico was just a few block from where we'd left our bags. I got there and failed miserably on the bribe (didn't even attempt it) but took the shot like a champ and officially have my certification (I'm pretty proud of the fact that this thing I must carry for life is Colombian, and completely in Spanish). Can I just comment on Colombian medicine for a second? I walked in, told them what I needed, took a number and was on the chopping block within 15 minutes. They were so nice, even letting Anne take pictures as I got stuck in the arm, and very official about all of it. When I asked where to pay, they just looked at me like I was crazy and told me it was free and that I was all set. Free?! Medicine?! For foreigners?! I was in shock. I know this wasn't a trip to the hospital, but really, there were probably ten families with kids in there all waiting for various vaccinations that are needed for daily life here and all came in and out easily and efficiently. No complaining, nothing. It was really incredible. People would have to wait hours to get something like that done in the states and then pay an arm and a leg to boot. I think there's a lesson to be learned here.

Anyway, rather than hopping a flight to Panama, with a yellow fever certification just two days old and completely covered in mosquito bites, I've changed my flight to December 17th. I don't have the two weeks I had hoped for in Panama, but I'll have five days to go somewhere and see something new anyway. Luckily, Copa Airlines is incredible and changed my flight in about two minutes flat, free of charge. Now I've got time to go down to Medillon with Anne tomorrow night after soaking in a mud volcano in the morning. Another ten days in Colombia? Not such a bad thing after all.