Cartagena
I flew to Cartagena on the Caribbean coast of Colombia from Medellin via Bogota. In Bogota airport, I had a couple of hours to spare so I walked around a bit. I found a place where they did massages but the charge was very high. I persuaded the girl to let me massage her for 10 minutes and then to massage me for 10 minutes without any money being exchanged. Well, it worked and I felt much better for it. Cartagena is a lovely colonial town which is one of the oldest in South America. It has been a major port for centuries and had to build a fortress around itself because of pirates. Some time before my arrival, there was a Brit who was a bit of a trouble-maker in this town which led them to increase their security. He was Sir Francis Drake. I was eating at a local restaurant when I started talking to a couple of guys at another table. They were both American but one of them was an Iranian jew who had escaped from Iran with his family in 1986 with fake Iranian passports.
Taganga & Tayrona National Park
I was staying in a windy and dusty fishing village almost 5 hours up the coast from Cartagena, called Taganga. I bumped into an Italian guy called Paolo (29 years), from Avelino, near Naples. I had met him in Trinidad and just saw him walking down the road here. The same day, in the evening, I bumped into another guy from Trinidad who had hosted me via Couchsurfing. So, it is a pretty small world. Paolo seemed to talk to anyone and everyone in the street, and he wanted to know everyone´s name. But he soon tended to forget what people´s names were and started calling them by other names the next time he met them. We went to a beautiful coastline, surrounded by jungle. We hiked for miles and finally stayed at a campsite with loads of other foreigners, sleeping in hammocks.
Santa Marta
Just next to Taganga is the coastal city of Santa Marta, which is famed for being the place where Simon Bolivar was killed in battle. I had therefore seen his birthplace in Caracas and his place of demise, Santa Marta. This city has a nice waterfront promenade where the locals go for walks or just sit down and watch the sunset. It has nice squares and good eateries. Outside of the centre, one can see rundown residential areas. Overall, it is a low key town and perennially hot and sunny.
Minca
A lovely little hamlet nestled in the Sierra Nevada mountains around 45 minutes drive from Santa Marta. A lovely river runs through this village and there are lovely restaurants beside the river. Along the river, locals or visitors from Santa Marta go swimming in the pockets of deep fresh water which are surrounded by large rocks. Romantic couples also seem to love this place. Best way to get here is to negotiate a fixed rate with a taxi driver from Santa Marta, who will stay with you and bring you back. There are guest houses to stay at if you want but they are quite simple.
Barranquilla
This is probably one of the ugliest and scariest cities that I have seen. A lot of the roads are unpaved and dusty and people look quite rough. It is famed for its annual carnival which takes place around March. It is one of the biggest carnivals in the world.
Flying to Panama City from Barranquilla, Colombia.
Barranquilla airport is apparently a major port for drug smugglers who want to take drugs to other destinations, including Central America. There are numerous police checks from check-in to boarding the flight. There are police and police dogs everywhere. Passengers are eye-balled by Colombian police the whole time. You really need a lot of patience in this airport.
The police decided to open my bag as a random spot check, even though I was running late. After the bag check, they wanted me to sign a form but I said I wouldn't as it was in Spanish and I couldn't understand it. They said in that case, I could not take my bag with me as I had to sign the form before they would release it. I asked an airline official and an airport security guy to look at the form and they assured me that it was a simple sheet that people signed as a formality when their bags were checked randomly. I told the security guy that I would sign it only if the chief police guy there said sorry for causing me so much grief. To his credit, the policeman did apologise, so I signed the form and was on the flight.
Panama City
A noisy hustle and bustle of a city, with very impatient drivers honking their horns at the slightest delay by anyone in front. The old quarter, or Casco Viejo, is a lovely place and worth a visit. From time to time, they have festivals in the main square there. The architecture is lovely and the area is very civilized compared to the rest of Panama City.
Panama Canal
I took a cab from my hotel in downtown Panama City to Miraflores Locks, which took around half an hour. I negotiated with the taxi driver beforehand and paid around US $3 one way. These locks are the last ones that ships encounter before crossing into the Pacific Ocean. It consists of 2 lanes of ship traffic and gigantic tankers and passenger ships come by within minutes of each other. Each ship has to be lowered to sea level before going off. The average toll paid by a ship is US $250,000. Some pay as much as US $400,000. It takes 8 hours for a ship to cross the Panama Canal from the Atlantic side to the Pacific side. There are locks are either end and a man-made lake in the middle. The canal was started by the French, then taken over by the Americans and completed, then handed over to the Panamanians on Dec 31, 1999.
If you want to visit the Miraflores locks, they have a cafe and a restaurant there and bathroom facilities. They also have a viewing area to watch the ships. There are 2 entrace fees, a cheaper one for Panamanians and a more expensive one for tourists. This policy is applied in many Latin American countries.
San Blas Islands
A group of stunningly beautiful Caribbean islands numbering around 400, off the coast of Panama, and stretching all the way to Colombia. Fifty of them are inhabited by the Kuna people, who own these islands and charge people for setting foot on them. They have been living on these islands for 200 years, having come over from Colombia. I flew there from Panama City and landed on an island with a small runway on a 20 seater propeller plane. From there I took a boat to one of the islands where the Kuna tribal people have a large community of a few thousand. They live in a very primitive way in wooden huts and only have electricity for a few hours at night. The infant mortality rate is relatively high. They have their own language and costumes. Quite a number of them can be very awkward about foreigners visiting their islands, and don't allow pictures to be taken of them, unless they are paid a Dollar or even more. If a person lands on any of the inhabited islands, the locals charge anywhere from a Dollar to 5 Dollars. I once swam from one island to a neighbouring one, and there was a hut there with a couple of people. A man approached me as soon as I landed on the beach and demanded a Dollar. I told him that I did not have my wallet on me. I rested for a short while and swam back. The fish and corals were incredible.
It was at my first accommodation, Carti Homestay, on the island of Carti, which I believe I had my money stolen by the owner. This guesthouse was recommended in the Lonely Planet book so I thought that it would be ok. My money was in my small backpack which I always kept locked with a padlock. One day, I went to a remote island by boat, and left my small backpack on my bed, after the owner told me it would be safe. He must have picked the lock and taken the money, which was around US Dollars 130 worth of Venezuelan Bolivares and a 20 UK Pound note. He didn't take anything else from my bag, locking my bag again. I only discovered the theft when I reached Costa Rica. The Bolivares wouldn't have any value to him because it is a non-convertible currency. He would need to go to Venezuela.
I transferred to another island and stayed there for the majority of my stay. I slept in a straw hut on the beach with sand as my floor and no electricity. The shower was a huge bucket full of well water and a small bucket used to pour the water over my head. The toilet had no flush, only a bucket to pour water down it. At night I could see small fish with lights flashing, swimming in the large bucket that contained the water for the toilet. Neighbouring huts had other travellers from the US, Canada, and Europe. During mealtime, we would all sit down around a wooden dining room table on the beach and eat the daily catch of fish, lobster and crab. Lobster was contstantly on the menu. There were daily trips to nearby islands for snorkelling and looking at starfish and conches.
Price Fixing Cartel on San Blas
One day I visited an island inhabited by 2 families, so a total of less than a dozen people. Each family was at the opposite end of the island. It took around 5 minutes to walk around the whole island, covered with cocunut trees, hundreds of them, each having dozens of cocunuts. I found a coconut on the ground and asked the man of one family if he could cut it open. He said that the cocunut belonged to him and that it would cost me 1 Dollar to have it. I couldn't believe it because in Panama City, a coconut in a store cost around 60 Cents. I decided that he was trying it on with me so I went to the other end of the island and picked up another coconut when I was approached by an elderly women from the other family who mentioned that the coconut was hers. I asked her how much it would cost to have it and she said 25 Cents. I agreed and was about to pay her when the 10 year daughter of the other family ran over and said something to the elderly woman who then informed me that the price was no longer 25 Cents but 1 Dollar. So, I was the victim of a price fixing cartel on a paradise island in the Caribbean with less than a dozen people on it. Apparently, the Kuna people sell tons and tons of coconuts to Colombia each year for 25 Cents per coconut.
I flew to Cartagena on the Caribbean coast of Colombia from Medellin via Bogota. In Bogota airport, I had a couple of hours to spare so I walked around a bit. I found a place where they did massages but the charge was very high. I persuaded the girl to let me massage her for 10 minutes and then to massage me for 10 minutes without any money being exchanged. Well, it worked and I felt much better for it. Cartagena is a lovely colonial town which is one of the oldest in South America. It has been a major port for centuries and had to build a fortress around itself because of pirates. Some time before my arrival, there was a Brit who was a bit of a trouble-maker in this town which led them to increase their security. He was Sir Francis Drake. I was eating at a local restaurant when I started talking to a couple of guys at another table. They were both American but one of them was an Iranian jew who had escaped from Iran with his family in 1986 with fake Iranian passports.
Taganga & Tayrona National Park
Santa Marta
Just next to Taganga is the coastal city of Santa Marta, which is famed for being the place where Simon Bolivar was killed in battle. I had therefore seen his birthplace in Caracas and his place of demise, Santa Marta. This city has a nice waterfront promenade where the locals go for walks or just sit down and watch the sunset. It has nice squares and good eateries. Outside of the centre, one can see rundown residential areas. Overall, it is a low key town and perennially hot and sunny.
Minca
A lovely little hamlet nestled in the Sierra Nevada mountains around 45 minutes drive from Santa Marta. A lovely river runs through this village and there are lovely restaurants beside the river. Along the river, locals or visitors from Santa Marta go swimming in the pockets of deep fresh water which are surrounded by large rocks. Romantic couples also seem to love this place. Best way to get here is to negotiate a fixed rate with a taxi driver from Santa Marta, who will stay with you and bring you back. There are guest houses to stay at if you want but they are quite simple.
Barranquilla
This is probably one of the ugliest and scariest cities that I have seen. A lot of the roads are unpaved and dusty and people look quite rough. It is famed for its annual carnival which takes place around March. It is one of the biggest carnivals in the world.
Flying to Panama City from Barranquilla, Colombia.
Barranquilla airport is apparently a major port for drug smugglers who want to take drugs to other destinations, including Central America. There are numerous police checks from check-in to boarding the flight. There are police and police dogs everywhere. Passengers are eye-balled by Colombian police the whole time. You really need a lot of patience in this airport.
The police decided to open my bag as a random spot check, even though I was running late. After the bag check, they wanted me to sign a form but I said I wouldn't as it was in Spanish and I couldn't understand it. They said in that case, I could not take my bag with me as I had to sign the form before they would release it. I asked an airline official and an airport security guy to look at the form and they assured me that it was a simple sheet that people signed as a formality when their bags were checked randomly. I told the security guy that I would sign it only if the chief police guy there said sorry for causing me so much grief. To his credit, the policeman did apologise, so I signed the form and was on the flight.
Panama City
A noisy hustle and bustle of a city, with very impatient drivers honking their horns at the slightest delay by anyone in front. The old quarter, or Casco Viejo, is a lovely place and worth a visit. From time to time, they have festivals in the main square there. The architecture is lovely and the area is very civilized compared to the rest of Panama City.
Panama Canal
I took a cab from my hotel in downtown Panama City to Miraflores Locks, which took around half an hour. I negotiated with the taxi driver beforehand and paid around US $3 one way. These locks are the last ones that ships encounter before crossing into the Pacific Ocean. It consists of 2 lanes of ship traffic and gigantic tankers and passenger ships come by within minutes of each other. Each ship has to be lowered to sea level before going off. The average toll paid by a ship is US $250,000. Some pay as much as US $400,000. It takes 8 hours for a ship to cross the Panama Canal from the Atlantic side to the Pacific side. There are locks are either end and a man-made lake in the middle. The canal was started by the French, then taken over by the Americans and completed, then handed over to the Panamanians on Dec 31, 1999.
If you want to visit the Miraflores locks, they have a cafe and a restaurant there and bathroom facilities. They also have a viewing area to watch the ships. There are 2 entrace fees, a cheaper one for Panamanians and a more expensive one for tourists. This policy is applied in many Latin American countries.
San Blas Islands
A group of stunningly beautiful Caribbean islands numbering around 400, off the coast of Panama, and stretching all the way to Colombia. Fifty of them are inhabited by the Kuna people, who own these islands and charge people for setting foot on them. They have been living on these islands for 200 years, having come over from Colombia. I flew there from Panama City and landed on an island with a small runway on a 20 seater propeller plane. From there I took a boat to one of the islands where the Kuna tribal people have a large community of a few thousand. They live in a very primitive way in wooden huts and only have electricity for a few hours at night. The infant mortality rate is relatively high. They have their own language and costumes. Quite a number of them can be very awkward about foreigners visiting their islands, and don't allow pictures to be taken of them, unless they are paid a Dollar or even more. If a person lands on any of the inhabited islands, the locals charge anywhere from a Dollar to 5 Dollars. I once swam from one island to a neighbouring one, and there was a hut there with a couple of people. A man approached me as soon as I landed on the beach and demanded a Dollar. I told him that I did not have my wallet on me. I rested for a short while and swam back. The fish and corals were incredible.
It was at my first accommodation, Carti Homestay, on the island of Carti, which I believe I had my money stolen by the owner. This guesthouse was recommended in the Lonely Planet book so I thought that it would be ok. My money was in my small backpack which I always kept locked with a padlock. One day, I went to a remote island by boat, and left my small backpack on my bed, after the owner told me it would be safe. He must have picked the lock and taken the money, which was around US Dollars 130 worth of Venezuelan Bolivares and a 20 UK Pound note. He didn't take anything else from my bag, locking my bag again. I only discovered the theft when I reached Costa Rica. The Bolivares wouldn't have any value to him because it is a non-convertible currency. He would need to go to Venezuela.
I transferred to another island and stayed there for the majority of my stay. I slept in a straw hut on the beach with sand as my floor and no electricity. The shower was a huge bucket full of well water and a small bucket used to pour the water over my head. The toilet had no flush, only a bucket to pour water down it. At night I could see small fish with lights flashing, swimming in the large bucket that contained the water for the toilet. Neighbouring huts had other travellers from the US, Canada, and Europe. During mealtime, we would all sit down around a wooden dining room table on the beach and eat the daily catch of fish, lobster and crab. Lobster was contstantly on the menu. There were daily trips to nearby islands for snorkelling and looking at starfish and conches.
Price Fixing Cartel on San Blas
One day I visited an island inhabited by 2 families, so a total of less than a dozen people. Each family was at the opposite end of the island. It took around 5 minutes to walk around the whole island, covered with cocunut trees, hundreds of them, each having dozens of cocunuts. I found a coconut on the ground and asked the man of one family if he could cut it open. He said that the cocunut belonged to him and that it would cost me 1 Dollar to have it. I couldn't believe it because in Panama City, a coconut in a store cost around 60 Cents. I decided that he was trying it on with me so I went to the other end of the island and picked up another coconut when I was approached by an elderly women from the other family who mentioned that the coconut was hers. I asked her how much it would cost to have it and she said 25 Cents. I agreed and was about to pay her when the 10 year daughter of the other family ran over and said something to the elderly woman who then informed me that the price was no longer 25 Cents but 1 Dollar. So, I was the victim of a price fixing cartel on a paradise island in the Caribbean with less than a dozen people on it. Apparently, the Kuna people sell tons and tons of coconuts to Colombia each year for 25 Cents per coconut.
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