Ran out to Boca Grande to start the day and was duly rewarded with the company of around 100 Colombian Navy personnel jogging through the water next to me.
Back at the hostel Becky & I cooked up a tasty breakfast & then set out in search of more coffee & the Colombian version of pan de queso. We found this famous cheese with cheese delicassy at a nearby Panaderia & felt our arteries clogging as we shared a piece. Did some life admin & then hopped on a bus to Santa Marta further up the Caribbean coast.
We arrived at 6ish & headed to the restaurant across the road for a much raved about sopa de marisco (seafood soup). We were the only tourists & the only women in this quiet local eatery & attracted far too much unwanted attention. The restaurant owner, Carlos, claimed to be a relative of Pablo Escobar & insisted on declaring his love for me & hugging me at least three times before he even served our meal. He told us we must have the tomato broth because it was 'real fucking good'. That was about the extent of his English & well it made for a hilarious dinner. The soup was pretty good I must say.
We went for a post dinner stroll along the beach any waterfront and then settled in for a night lazing in hammocks on the hostel terrace.
