“15,000 pesos? Forget that. I’m going to walk.”
“It’s 20km away.”
“OK. Maybe not.”
I read on the internet that it’s possible to travel by land independently from Cartagena to the paradisiacal beach of Playa Blanca on Colombia’s Caribbean coast as opposed to taking an organized tour by boat. In a bid to save some money, I chose to take the adventure route and go solo.
After finding the correct bus amongst the organized chaos on Avenida Playa Pedregosa, I was now on my way to the small town of Pasacaballos. As the trip continued, the bus filled with more people and their goods. I was cramped in my window seat as a large woman took the seat next to me. Thankfully, the bus had windows that could open to allow a breeze through the stuffy and hot bus which was not unlike a mini version of a Guatemalan chicken bus.
I didn’t exactly know where I had to get off the bus. One option was to ask the driver to let me know when I needed to get off but I find they usually forget. I spoke to the woman sitting next to me and explained to her my plans in the hope that she would be able to advise me when to get off. But I had no luck with her.Close to an hour in to the adventure the bus slowed down to stop and I heard men calling out Playa Blanca. I figured this must be my stop and where I’d find transport to take me the rest of the way to the beach.
Once off the bus, I was immediately mobbed by different guys telling me to go with them and they’d take me to the beach. One young lad was speaking at the speed of light. I couldn’t understand anything he said. His mate saw my confusion and asked if I speak Spanish. I said, yes, I speak Spanish, just that I couldn’t understand his friend.
I asked the price. 15000 pesos ($8). I thought that was a lot. I’d just paid 1800 (95c) on the bus. I thought out loud about walking the rest of the way to save some money. I was quickly told Playa Blanca was 20 kms away.
I walked across the road to buy a bottle of water and to give myself some space and time to think. I remembered at that point that the information I read on the internet did quote this part of the journey as costing 15000 pesos. So now I realized I wasn’t being ripped off. With my stand-offish demeanour the young lad dropped the price to 12000 ($6.30). Deal. Vamos!.
The mode of transport for this part of the journey was motorbike. I sat on the back of my new best friend’s bike using his spare helmet as I hung on to the metal bar at the back of the bike. We maneuvered slowly over undulating dirt roads for ten minutes until we came to a bitumen road and a 300 odd metre long bridge, with quite a pronounced arch, maybe reaching 100 metres high in the middle.
Now on the other side and with an open road we got some speed up bringing a smile to my face. We rode for another 20 minutes and I realized that, it was true, I wouldn’t have been able to walk this far.
We turned off the main road and past some make shift car-parks full of cars and minivans. We got to the beach and the first impression was – Wow, there were a lot of people.
I asked my driver, Wilfran, about somewhere to eat. I was grateful that he took me to one of the restaurants on the beach run by friends of his who looked after me. Nice one. I thanked Wilfran and despite the trouble I had understanding him, we arranged to meet in a few hours’ time for the return trip. The woman in charge at the restaurant, Rudy, went out of her way to set up a little table and chair for me next to her kitchen. She was in the middle of cooking for a tour group seated at the tables on the sand and protected from the sun under a cabaña. Fresh fish, salad, chips and rice were on the menu – very tasty.
Next thing to do was to jump into the sea. It was a very hot day, in the low 30’s, and even though the beach was crowded there was still room for one more. Playa Blanca is popular for having relatively clear, clean blue water. On days as hot as this, the beach is full, well past midnight. Thankfully I was able to leave my things with Rudy. I always worry a bit about leaving my things on the beach when I’m alone. It was great to leave them safely and not have to worry about them. The water was at a perfect cooling temperature. Not so cold that you pulled faces upon entering but cool enough to be refreshing.
I went for a walk down to the other end of the beach and saw the hostels and cabins for people that chose to stay at the beach overnight. They looked very comfortable despite the rustic theme. I sat down on the sand to rest for a while. As well as the visitors to the beach, like me, there were a lot of vendors selling anything from refreshments to oysters to jetski rides. A woman came up to me and without me agreeing to anything, she started to give me a massage. I didn’t want to pay for a massage but I was curious to know how much one cost. She told me not to worry it was just a demonstration. I knew what her game was. Obviously she was going to want some money. I should have ended it there but I just sat there and let her continue. After rubbing oil on my shoulders and giving them a rub down she told me to lay back. I chose not to comply. Then I really would have to pay. I just sat in the same posture I had been all along before she had shown up.
She kept rubbing and after another few minutes I thought it was probably best to stop it at that point. I got up and hopped in the water to wash the oil off. The middle-aged Colombian then wanted money. Oh, what a surprise. I told her I didn’t ask for the massage and she’d said it was a demonstration only. She argued the demonstration was just for the first few minutes and that I owed her 20,000 pesos. I wasn’t going to pay her and decided to play with her. I told her that I charge 50,000 pesos to receive massages. And so based on that she owed me 30,000. She was like, “What? Me pay you? Are you crazy?”
Fortunately, I didn’t have my wallet on me, just a few coins. I showed the woman that that was all I had. She dropped the price to 10,000. I told her I didn’t have 10,000. She then wanted 5,000. I told her my financial situation hadn’t changed in the last few seconds and she gave up and walked away. Woohoo. I was glad I didn’t fall for that scam. I spent the rest of my time relaxing in the water.
The time came for Wilfran to pick me up. He found me drying myself off at Rudy’s. He met me with a big smile and handed me the bike helmet. I thanked Rudy and her crew and then it was back on the bike for the trip to Pasacaballos again.
This time there was a lot more traffic as everyone else had the same idea to leave the beach at this time. I’d seen many times the craziness of Colombia traffic from the safety of the side of the road, or on a bus. But as Wilifran weaved and dodged through traffic on the highway, I was now in the thick of it. Wilfran even rode with his mobile phone in his hand checking for messages periodically. “Geez, I hope we survive this. I don’t have travel insurance.”
We made it safely to the other side of the bridge and turned off on to the dirt track. We approached the town of Pasacaballos , turned a corner and then STOP! About 30 metres up the road was a mob of people in what looked like a tense stand-off. A friend of Wilfran saw us and came over explaining what was going on. I asked Wilfran what was happening. The combination of his hard to understand dialect, the fact that we were wearing helmets and the noise of the bike motor meant I had no chance of understanding him. We rode around the crowd of people and into town. Wilfran’s kindness continued as he waited with me to make sure I caught the correct bus back to Cartagena. By doing the trip independently, I'd missed out on a boat trip over the clear waters but instead I'd had a fun adventure experiencing a behind the scenes look of the area and saving a bit of money, too.
The bus took me to the end of the line which was a market place just outside Cartagaena’s town centre. I took the opportunity to buy a cheap Colombian football jumper. It’s so exciting being in Colombia at the moment during the football world cup. On the days Colombia play, the majority of people are decked out in the national football shirts. Cars, shops and houses are decorated in the national colours red, blue and yellow.
I’m not into football but I love the exciting buzz that comes from watching the matches. Especially when Colombia wins, which at the time of writing they have won all three of their first round matches. It’s funny watching the game on a big screen in a public place. Sometimes the big screen 20 metres away will be out of sync by a few seconds to the one I’m watching. Suddenly the crowd watching the other screen start to get excited and then cheer and shout because of a Colombia goal. A few seconds later , we see the goal as well and everybody is happy.
I’ve uploaded some photos of the old town of Cartagena. I didn’t have my camera with me at Playa Blanca but you can see some images here.
https://www.google.com.co/search?q=playa+blanca+colombia&espv=2&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=5e6sU-yQOdStsAThpoGIDA&ved=0CBwQsAQ&biw=1034&bih=566
