OK I kind of want to scream right now......having just spent an hour trying to catch up on a week of activities, the entire entry got wiped so now I have to start over......sigh. And obviously Version 1 was much more witty and interesting.
Anyway....after the 'adventure' of the mud volcano, a day of relaxing and doing very little seemed to be in order. What better place to do it than Playa Blanca, just over an hour by boat from Cartagena and home to white sands, turquoise water and groves of palm trees. Oh and about 100,000 hawkers selling everything from trinkets to massages to coco loco.
The latter is a drink made by chopping off the top of a coconut with a few nonchalant hacks of a machete, I genuinely thought that the vendor was lucky to still be in possession of both his thumbs. The coconut water is then tipped out into a jug and replaced with healthy measures of rum (both dark and light), vodka, pineapple juice and sugar (at least from what I could see....there could have been other stuff added to the party too). A top up of coconut water is then added at the end resulting in a rather heady but delicious tropical cocktail.
Would have been a near perfect day if the combination of undiluted sun + white reflective sand + extreme sun sensitivity due to my anti malarials (a side effect I'd managed to forget about) resulted in probably the worst sunburn I've had in 10 years. By the time the boat arrived back in Cartagena my body was already starting to come out in randomly arranged magenta stripes despite multiple applications of sunblock.....well done me.
My last day in Cartagena followed and as I was pretty much only good for indoor activities I went to explore the Castillo San Felipe which is not far outside the city walls. It's a pretty impressive 480 year old fortress built, funnily enough, to protect the city from attack. I was less than keen to spend my time climbing the parapets outside in the heat of the day though, so opted instead to explore the maze of tunnels that wind their way down about 20m below the castle.
It did cross my mind as I inched my way down a narrow tunnel, in near pitch darkness, solo, where anyone could be lying in wait in the tons of little enclaves that alternated off either side of the tunnel, that this was probably the exact thing that my parents hoped that I was NOT doing in Colombia.
A few seconds later as I heard footsteps coming from a tunnel somewhere just below me, I had the thought that perhaps they were right and I really shouldn't be exploring dark tunnels on my own and maybe the sunlight didn't seem like such a bad option.
Obviously I'm here to tell the tale though, it turned out to be an american guy who insisted we tackled the depths of the tunnels together and we descended down as far as possible....even attempting to wade through knee deep water at one stage, not sure what we were hoping to find.
A few minutes and possible a couple of water-borne diseases later though and I decided I'd probably had enough adventure for one week and it was time to return home to pack for the next stop: Quito, Ecuador.
I'm starting to realise that nothing ever runs smoothly when it comes to flying in South America, as the next morning my flight from Cartegena was delayed by 30 minutes and Air Avianca saw no reason to wait for their connecting passengers in Bogota.....so another 4 hour wait ensued.
Amongst other things I used the time to inform my host family of my new arrival time, rant on Facebook and reward myself for maintaining my composure (mostly) by indulging in my first experience of the Colombian institution that is Crepes y Waffles (yum). Ham, cheese, mushroom and spinach - thanks for asking.
Unfortunately when I arrived in Quito around 9pm - close to 12 hours after leaving the hostel that morning - it quickly became apparent that my dream of seeing my name written on a board and held aloft in the arrivals hall was going to remain unrealised.
No host family. No idea where I was meant to be staying. And really no motivation to try and find out at that point in time.
I called it a night, took a cab to a nearby hostel recommended by the airport, indulged in a completely deserved private room and shortly after I emailed to assure my host family that I had not been kidnapped or met an untimely demise, they got in touch and arranged to pick me up the next morning.
Next week.... intensive Spanish school and a non-English speaking homestay. Not nervous at all.
