First weekend in Taganga

Playa Grande

I ventured to the beach for reals over the weekend, to read and relax.  It’s a really cool secluded beach (Playa Grande) that requires a 15 minute hike over the hills to get to.  But it’s totally worth it, really nice water, not too cold (but certainly not warm), super sunny, and warm soft sand.

Today was a little sad though, as my first real friends (like we’re facebook friends, so you know it’s legit) left this morning, so also I had my first real goodbye.  They were a cool group of Australians and New Zealanders (except many had also lived in London, Ireland, the state, so their accents were all over the place), 7 in total, most were friends on a big trip.

It should be good though, they were big drinkers, and I had trouble saying no to them.  Like last night I was trying to write a little more about the trip, and Jules (the guy who I knew the best) walks into my room with two cold beers and says, ‘yeah man, I hate to see you like this, you gotta come drink with us.’  It was only still early evening, but they’d been at it since 3, though it was their last night.  So we drained a few beers and hit up the town.  We ended up dancing with a bunch of locals behind a bar, outside down by the beach.  The locals are all crazy good dancers.  Probably the highlight was when we were all dancing barefoot, this scorpion came crawling by, no more than 2 feet from my foot.  I was glad I was a little drunk, or I would have freaked out.

In the end them leaving will be good, as I’m starting my Spanish lessons this week and the less I want to go out drinking, the better...

My home away from home - Taganga

Small fishing town of Taganga

Taganga is by far the smallest place I’ve seen this trip, it’s a little beach town about a 10 minute bus ride from Santa Marta.  It’s great though, they have a really good Spanish school with private tutors, it’s very near my launch point for a 5-day excursion through the jungle, and the beach here is much more chill than the bigger cities.  It’s poifect!

I found my home almost instantly, right off the main road at Hostal Pelikan.  Right off the bat, I lounged in one of the many hammocks and met my first friends of the trip, a large group of Australian travelers who were doing a world tour, along with a New Zealand woman who been cycling around the world.  She has a pretty cool website, www.indianajune.com.

We all quickly ventured to the beach for a swim, and spent the evening drinking Aguila and exploring the town filled with hundreds of stray dogs and beachfront bars.

Hostel in Santa Marta

The hostel in Santa Marta was my favorite of my short trip thus far, and I think I’ll be tough to beat.  Two floors with rooftop access, with the whole center cut out and open to the outside world.  It was basically a three story square donut.  The first floor had a very nice Mexican restaurant, whose chicken burrito with enchilada sauce was the first meal of the trip I had trouble finishing.  The walls were lined with dorm room doors encompassing a big swimming pool in the middle, with sign reading ‘beyond this point, clothing optional.’  The second floor had a massive bar, pool table, and yet more rooms.  Finally the rooftop terrace offered patio furniture, hammocks, and a cool evening breeze.

The night before I arrived it was Australia Day, which is basically the day that anyone living in Australia, is Australian, or has ever seen Australia on a map gets insanely drunk and celebrates.  The residents of this hostel were up until 5am, declined the option of clothing in the pool, so on this night things were much more on the mellow side.

I relaxed in hammocks on the roof, sipping on a cold Club Colombian, looking on the city from above, and talking to a few Australians and a German girl about their travels around South America.  

The next day I’ll be home for the while…

I almost died, like 700 times – trip to Santa Marta

You’ve probably heard that driving anywhere south of the boarder is dangerous.  Well apparently the further south you go, the worse it gets…  Every bus on the road is beat to shit (I know, I really shouldn’t talk), and after my first bus ride it’s easy to understand why.  I think an accident happens on the roads of Colombia every 10 seconds, with a horn being honked nearly constantly.

I used one of those private bus company deals, takes you door-to-door and is only slightly more expensive than a traditional bus.  I read and slept while we picked up the other travelers, and got out of the city for our 4 hour bus ride up the Caribbean coast.  I awoke from my peaceful slumber with the driver cursing in Spanish (obviously I’m assuming his words here), straddling the double yellow line (creating what I can only assume in his mind is a third lane) on this busy two land highway, with cars and buses speeding past in both directions.  I reached for a seat belt, found nothing but air, and tried to reassure myself that this guy's a pro; he’s just at the office right now.  I was also reassured (I guess reassured is the right word) by his arrogance, that although he had a seat belt, he chose not to use it, only pretending to put in one when we encountered the Colombian police.  I read it as ‘yeah, I can handle a bus…’ 

But just as advertised, I was safely dropped at the front door of La Brisa Loca, my home for the night.

The morning in Cartagena

Cartagena, the city I flew into and spent the first night, is a beautiful place.  It’s just over a million people, with some super clean beaches, right on the Caribbean…  well, at least that’s what I read, because after exploring the town for part of the morning, I blew town for something smaller.

I’d done a bit of research, and found what I believe to be one of the best Spanish schools in the area: private tutors, reasonable price, and in a quaint little beach town.  I was headed there immediately!

During my morning, I hit up Cartagena’s old town, which is filled with a huge stone wall, an even bigger fortress, Castillo San Felipe De Barajas, that you can go inside and see the dungeons (for a moment I got lost down there and it was terrifying!) and the cannons on top.  I also walked by a clock tower and lots of cathedrals.  But my time here was short lived, and I had to move on….

Dungeons in Castillo San Felipe De Barajes

Fortress in Cartagena

I’m in Colombia!!!

Cartagena, Colombia Skyline

Holy cow!  I'm pretty exhausted from only sleeping a few hours on the hard airport floor, but I’ve officially arrived; and it's officially hot.  It's like full on summer, and I’m sweating through all my clothes.

It has already been a pretty crazy culture shock thus far, as my Spanish is far worse than I ever thought and I have no idea what people are saying.  

On the plane I just didn’t know what to expect, I talked to the Colombian guy sitting next to me and he seemed very nice, and when the plane landed and half the people cheered, I began to think this might be the happiest culture I’ve ever been a part of.  

But once outside the friendly confines for the airport (with their signs in both Spanish and English) I knew I was in trouble.  It seemed that most everyone spoke Spanish (duh) and only a few could handle the nuances of the English language, and thus I was fucked.  I decided to not bother with the bus system in my state, and instead got taken for a ride in a cab, by literally paying double what I should… I rationalized it by thinking that I was still on American currency, so the extra $2 was nothing.  

The Media Luna Hostel, where I wanted to stay, was booked solid for rest of the week, so I met up with Darin, an Aussie I’d met at the airport ATM, and found a dorm room at the Hotel Marlin across the street.  He had lived in Peru the year before, kiteboarding and taking Spanish lessons.  I knew that’s what I needed to do immediately, as I was basically a def-mute, struggling to say a word to anyone that wasn’t hello or thank you.  I wish I’d taken charades a little more seriously…

But things are looking up, after sleeping more than 12 hours the first night I’m feeling pretty good, and I’ll be even better when I can figure out what other people are saying!

Nothing relaxing about the start of this trip

As a general rule, the cheaper the flight you can find, the worse it's inevitably going to be.  In my effort to be economic, I was also going to be extremely hard on myself.  For a total of $320 one way, I was able to land in Cartagena, Colombia, and it only required two separate airlines, checking bags and getting through security twice, while 'sleeping' in the airport and spending over 24 hours traveling.  It was a terrible decision...

My momentary nervousness about the trip quickly turns to an adventure walking around the Fort Lauderdale airport (shuttles stop at 9pm), backpack in tow, sweating in the thick Florida air at 11pm, searching for the international terminal, and desperately hoping Spirit airlines will check me in, or at the very least not kick me out on the street.

I lucked out (somewhat), and got to spend my first dinner (bread, meat, and cheese) and accommodations (earplugs and my Hawaii towel) on the rock hard airport terminal floor.  Accompanying me was Haiti's entire national soccer team (woman's), that must have either won their match, or loved airports, because they were partying and crazy all night.

But aside from that airports aren't a terrible place to spend the night, they have free wi-fi, pretty warm and safe, and you'll never miss your flight.

Next stop, Colombia...

On my way... (on the plane to Fort Lauderdale)

Well today begins what I hope to be a great adventure.  Nearly 10 months ago I quit my job, not because of poor pay or bad hours, but because the way I saw my life unfolding.  There is a saying, ‘the more money you have, the less likely you’ll be to take risks.’  I saw myself being that guy with a corner office, big house, hot wife, yet filled with regret, a lot of, ‘I wish I had done that,’ and looking enviously at a younger me, envious of a different person and different life when anything was possible.

It’s not that I don’t want those things, I loved dropping $100 at the bars without the fear that I might not be able to eat the next day, but I realized that if ever I were to make the move that I wanted, it had to be now.

So after working in marketing for 3 years, at a large corporate America company, I quit my job to pursue a different life.  Ten months ago and a journey on the John Muir Trail began that story, and today it continues.

On Tuesday January 24, 2012, I said goodbye to an amazing girl, tons of great friends, my family, and all the amenities that I used to take for granted, and I got on a plane alone, with just a backpack and my thoughts, and off I went….

Not long into the first day, I think things finally set in, that I was going to be alone for much of the next 4 months.  That is a strange feeling, it feels like quitting my job, breaking up with a girlfriend, and heading off to college, all rolled into one.  I’m scared, excited, sad, nervous...  I just feel funny. 

My plans thus far:

• Spend 5 weeks in Colombia living on the beach, exploring, and learning Spanish
• Fly to Buenos Aires and spend about a month exploring the city, Argentina, and Uruguay
• Work my way back across the continent over several weeks, to Peru, Machu Picchu, and the surrounding areas

I can't believe the trip is here!!!

They say that people only regret the things they've never tried, not the moves they made that never panned out... I hope those people were right because in a week things are gonna get real weird, when I finally get on a plane that will send me to South America, on a one way ticket, unknown when I’ll return, or what adventures lay ahead….