Category: El Rodadero

It’s the last full day in Rodadero. So we went out for breakfas to the corner cafe. When we got there I realized I’d forgotten my wallet, so Naomi ran back to get it while I sat down to enjoy my almond croissant and cappucino. Naomi soon joined me and had a tall orange juice. When we got back to our place Naomi headed down to the pool and I read the news.

We both read for much of the afternoon, and then I suggested that we should ‘celebrate’ the end of our good times in Rodadero by going out for supper — and what better place than our old favourite, back in Santa Marta. It’s about a 20 minute bus ride from our place here in Rodadero to the Parque de los Novios, which is just a block from where we stayed for a week in early February. We waited until sunset before setting off to catch a bus, trying to avoid the hot sun. It ended up being a lovely and comfortable evening. It was a short walk from where the bus drop us off to the park. Lots of people out and about on a Friday night. Our restaurant is called Donde Chucho and it’s in the far corner of the park. When we got there we managed to snag a table for two right in the middle of the outdoor courtyard, with an oscillating fan next to it. Great!

This was either the third or fourth visit to this restaurant and I’ve ordered the same meal each time — a lovely grouper fillet covered with shrimp and a delicious sauce. Did not disappoint. The evening was lovely, the restaurant was full and people lined up waiting for a table, the musician was a bit too loud but folks at tables around us seemed to enjoy singing along. After we’d finished our meal Naomi happened to check her phone and announced that the Jets were leading the Devils 1-0 in the first. What? There’s a hockey game on tonight. Why don’t we hurry home and catch the last 2 periods.

We were riding along in the crowded bus when, about halfway home, I put my hand in one of my shorts pockets, looking for my apartment card-key. The card gets us into our room, and then we have to slide it into a receptacle on the wall in order for the lights and air conditioners to turn on. Quite a few of our Airbnbs have used this system. It’s a bit annoying to only of the one key, and to come back to a warm apartment if you’ve been out for a couple of hours.

Well, you KNOW what happened next. Oh oh. Can’t find my key. After we got off the bus I told Naomi. Are you sure? She checked her shoulder bag. Of course it wasn’t there — I knew I’d put it in my pocket. In fact, I was pretty sure I knew how and where I had lost the card. It must have fallen out when I took my phone out of that same pocked as we were leaving the restaurant — the key card is much like a credit card and will have ‘stuck’ to my phone and then fallen away. Oh, this is NOT good! It was 3 or 4 blocks from where the bus had dropped us to our apartment, and as we walked back Naomi was already texting the owner of our apartment with the bad news. What were we going to do? We have to be on the road by tomorrow morning at 9:45, and we need to get into our apartment and pack our stuff before that. It’s Friday night and how will we get in touch with our host, “Santiago”? And what can he do to help? I think he lives in Bogota.

When we got into the front lobby there were two guys working the desk. We did our best to explain our situation and they got to work. They phoned Santiago. One of them went up to our room, then returned and motioned for us to follow him back up. He punched in the ‘secret code’ on the door entry panel and the door unlocked! Great! Ah, but when we opened the door a wave of warm air hit us. Oh yeah! What about our A/C and lights, etc? We need ‘the card’ in order to be able to sleep in here and gather up all our clothes and get packed.

Naomi stayed in the room — she opened up the patio doors and plunked herself down on a chair on the balcony and read her Kindle book. Mr Concierge  and I went back down to the lobby. In the meantime, Santiago is texting us, telling us it’ll all be okay, don’t worry, no big deal, they’ll figure something out. The other front desk guy is already phoning our restaurant, and WhatsApp-ing the a photo of a similar key card he happens to have — asking them to check if anyone has seen or picked up our card.

Things are looking grim. I considered getting a taxi to take me back to the restaurant so I could look for the card — but I really wasn’t very sure that that’s where I lost it. And it was getting close to 10 o’clock — closing time for the restaurant. And then Santiago texts, “Sol María will be with you soon. Give me 10 minutes Naomi.” (I guess Sol Maria is the cleaning lady.) Then, “We are working on” followed by “Rudy you are in a good hand. The card is not a big deal” and “You are safe in the apartment . Sol María has extra card.” And shortly after that text, there’s Maria, smiling and waving at me as she comes through the door into the lobby. She digs through her purse and fishes out another key card. Bingo! We’re in business. I thank her a few times and run upstairs to see if it works. I slip it into the slot and kaboom! the washer, which was almost finished a load when we left earlier (and obviously did NOT finish because when we left I took the card out and thereby shut off all electrical power in the place!) started up. Then the A/C and the loud ceiling fan started up again. We’re good to go! Thanks to Santiago and Sol Maria and the two guys at the front desk.

Oh, and by the time I’m settled back into my comfy living room chair and opened up my laptop to catch up on the latest news, the Jets are done with the Devils — winning 6-1. How about them Jets! Good night.

This morning I let Naomi have a quiet visit with some of her family on WhatsApp while I went out to the little cafe around the corner from our apartment. I was really looking forward to a nice cappuccino and maybe a pastry. On my way there I encountered a fisherman selling his morning catch. A resident from our building was negotiating a sale with the man, who had a little cart with a nice assortment of fish and a cooler with camarones (shrimp). I also stopped to have a look, and the fisherman proudly showed me his atun (tuna) that he was happy to cut into smaller portions.

Well, I wasn’t going to buy a fish, and it was already a bit too warm outside for me to stand there much longer — so off I went to the cafe. Breakfast was a treat. The croissant was filled with almond slices and some almond paste and the pastry was warm and flaky. I’ve been making my own coffee from time to time, but lately I’ve preferred the cappuccinos — which are very nice and very cheap ($2.00).

When I got back to the apartment Naomi was just off the phone and cutting up some fruit for her own breakfast.

After breakfast we went down to the pool so that Naomi could swim a few laps and I could splash around a bit. The pool is large and often not very busy. It’s super clean and has great loungers where I can stretch out and do a sudoku.

Naomi here. Rudy has passed the blog off to me to finish as he is deep into a hockey game. Winnipeg Jets are up 4-0 against Philadelphia.

During our time in Colombia I have had the opportunity to read quite a few books. The one I finished today is a Louise Erdrich book called, The Painted Drum. I have read quite a number of books by her over the years. One of the pulls for me is the fact that she is a member of the Turtle Mountain Chippewa Nation and  their traditional lands border the Manitoba Turtle Mountains just south of Boissevain where I grew up. The American colonial Indigenous relationship shares many similarities to the Canadians Indigenous and colonial one.  And for that reason I am always interested to learn more from various perspectives.  On a more general level I like novels that explore the themes of identity, both personal and cultural.

We also watched a movie today that Rudy had downloaded. It was one of the Oscar nominees called, The Nickel Boys (based on a novel). It was hard to follow because of the camera angles that followed the perspective of the various story tellers. It also juxtaposed historical footage from the time period  (1960s) and often it forced the viewer to take a big leap to make connections. The film explores the Nickel Reform School and the atrocities that happened there, mostly to young black boys. I definitely recommend the film.

Well,  I guess that is about all. I’ll go and do a bit of drawing before I head to bed.

 

 

Have I waxed eloquent enough about how delicious the fruit is? Today is another day with which we can enjoy the fresh produce. Mangos, pineapple, and bananas on our pancakes this morning. And fresh guacamole with our chips this afternoon.  What more can I say about the day? Not much as we basically did nothing.

Well one other thing. I saw a strange thing on the way home from supper yesterday. It bears mentioning as I am sure that there is some author out there that needs this image as inspiration for a novel, short story, or article. On the top of a high cinderblock wall and entangled in the razor wire was something that looked like a child’s toy. Chilling, weird, and definitely worth taking note of. On closer inspection it looked to be a stuffed toy. Perhaps a clown? How did this clown get there? What was the story behind it?

Please someone take the idea and run with it.  Can I start you off on that story? Maybe set in some dystopian future. Here goes….

“The little girl wondered what was outside the wall. She was ten years old  and had never been out. Smoke occasionally billowed over the walls. The smell of something rotten blew in when the wind came from the west, the place the old ones called the Desolation. She sat every afternoon under the transformer that kept the lights going and wondered. And one day she decided she could not bear the unknowing any longer. It was time to let her toy clown take a trip over the wall.”

Go ahead. I’ll be waiting to hear more….

Anyway, enough of that. One day runs into the next and we are as lethargic as the weather dictates. And let me tell you the heat is quite something. This morning I went out early to see whether I could get some brisk walking in before I began to wilt. I lasted about a half hour and had to come home. But I did follow the river to where it meets the ocean and it was a quiet spot which is sometimes hard to come by here. I also watched some fishermen haul in a net which was cool but in the end anticlimactic. There were only a few fish and not very big. The men and boys ended up throwing handfuls of fingerlings back into the ocean.

Back at home I had a couple of great swims in the pool and managed to produce one very terrible tourist painting. Rudy laughed and said that it might be useful for a chalk-talk and that I shouldn’t feel like the time I put in was entirely wasted. Would anyone like me to do a missionary report when I get back to Canada? I am open to some speaking engagements!!

Well, we ended the evening with a walk to the mall and the Dollar City store. I am running out of yellow watercolour paint and the only place I could find to replace it was there. So folks, don’t fret. If I have more days like this there will be a lot more paintings for my chalk-talks complete with a big ole yellow sunsets and palm trees.

 

 

Last week Friday, Naomi and I took a walk to see where our next Airbnb was, and to have a look at the neighbourhood. On a street corner very near our apartment we passed a large and very busy restaurant. There were many tables all along the two sides that faced the streets, and inside were many more tables. And most of the outside tables were occupied. The place was humming. And it looked like mostly locals — fishermen, taxi drivers, and families were enjoying breakfast. We made a note of it: if the locals eat there and the place is busy, it must be good.

We’ve already had one evening meal there (I really like my pollo asado – roasted chicken). But the menu is extensive, so tonight we went back for another round.

I have been using my phone to ‘Translate’ the menus so far. My Spanish lessons from twenty years ago haven’t really helped me at all on this trip. Naomi’s Spanish is MUCH better than mine. She had mentioned a street food called ‘salty peppers’ a few times on this trip, So when I decided to try one of the ‘Salchipapas’ dishes, Naomi knew exactly what that was. She said basically it was sliced up wieners mixed with french fries, and it had been a favourite for her and her family when they’d lived in Guatemala for a year some 30 years ago. Well, wieners and fries are two of my favourite foods, so I was looking forward to this. In fact, I decided on the ‘Choripapa’ — which substituted wieners with chorizo. Even better!

I was already enjoying an Aguila cerveza (an original Colombian beer, delicious, and like all the local beers, around $2 Canadian in a restaurant!) when the waitress brought us our food. Here she comes with a big white bowl, filled to the top with white cheese! This was a lot of food! Well, below that cheese topping was lettuce, slices of fried chorizo, salsa, lettuce, onion slices, and tomato slices. It was DELICIOUS! And with a little help from Naomi, I finished the whole bowl. Just describing it here makes me hungry — and I’m quite sure that won’t be my last ‘Salty Pepper’.

It is the beginning of the week and so that means work! Well not 9 to 5 type work (we are not coming out of retirement) but business needs to get done.   Last week Rudy tried to book bus tickets to Cartagena online. And despite the fact he spent a long time and did it over and over again, and asked ChatGPT for help, and muttered under his breath, he was not able to get it completed. They just weren’t accepting his credit card. So, this morning, we headed out into the heat to catch a city bus down to the Terminal de Transportes de Santa Marta. We caught a bus. I inquired whether it went “a terminal” and off we went. We wound our way back and forth and eventually got there. We pealed our sweaty backs off the bus seats and went inside the terminal to purchase tickets for Saturday. With some false starts and misunderstandings we (and by we, I mean Rudy) were able to get the tickets. Back we went outside into the blistering sun and after waiting for the bus for a short time, we caved and took a taxi back to our place. Now we are all set to move on to our next destination on the weekend.

After such a strenuous beginning to the day, we needed to relax. I worked on drawing and painting was glad to pronounce my efforts a success. By success I do not mean, work of art. But I was able to get some shadows and reflections on the tabletop and also get the look of a glass bowl and a tumbler looking like that were transparent. Water colour work is so interesting because you have to work very quickly at some points in order to get your paint down and not rework it so it looks muddy but also slow because you need to let areas dry before you move on.  I feel like such a newbie on all these efforts and will probably look back on these postings as very rudimentary. (I hope so because that means I will have continued to work on this after the Colombia trip and I will get better.) But art is a lot like golf (at least this is how Rudy explains it). You can think you are getting better and then all of a sudden you are back to first base. (too many mixed metaphors??)

By late afternoon I was ready to venture outside again.  So I went for an explore in the neighbourhood and down to the beach to see what was happening there. Each beach has its own flavour. This one is smaller than the last beach we were at. It is bookended at the north and south edge by cliffs. It is also a locals beach. (I only saw 2 other recognizable foreigners). It is a recreational area as well as a working beach. Fishing boats pulled up on the shore take up a good chunk of space. And it was teaming with people. I spent such a delightful time just people watching: babies and toddlers splashing and jumping in the waves,  parents building castles with their kids,  teenagers, sweaty and panting, as they kick a soccer ball down the beach, and even a quinceanera photoshoot. I arrived in time to catch the last of the daylight and to watch the sunset.

On the way home I passed a few of those places that make this neighbourhood a strange place.  Right across the street from us in our high-rise is a camp ground. Who actually camps there? I don’t know because to try to sit or sleep in this heat would be absolutely impossible.

Supper was at the end of the street. The little bakery turns into an Arabic Restaurant at night. But they don’t cook anything there. Instead they send the delivery boy to pick up the china plates of hummus, tabouli, and kebab on his bicycle. We had to wait a bit for the food but it was well worth it. So delicious. And while we waited I watched a bit of soccer at the small indoor-sized (but outdoor) soccer pitch.

It’s moving day today and when we move to a new location the day feels somewhat wasted and that  mostly nothing happens. We pack, we clean, we wait, we play sudoko and read books and news.  Our check out time is twelve. Rudy cooks breakfast, cleaning out some of the last things in the fridge: some eggs, cheese, and fruit.  We take a taxi a short drive up the coast to our new place and after a short wait we get into the apartment. It is hard to compete with the place we are leaving. The pool was glorious. The old condos had many windows in all directions and was so homey. It felt like we were staying at someone’s beach house.  The new place will be okay but the neighbourhood is rougher and the apartment is small and a cookie cutter of many of the places that can be found on Airbnb. But it does have a washing machine and after washing clothes out by hand for a while I am so glad to throw a huge load into the machine and have it do all the work.

I am overwhelmed with the new place. I always feel this way when we move on. I decide that escape is the best choice and I lie down in bed with my book and before I know it I have fallen asleep. I wake to the doorbell. Rudy has gone out to look for a grocery store and has come back with a big bag of groceries for the week.

We hang the laundry out on the balcony. We are in a tall tower complex. However, the juxtaposition of what we see from our balcony is diametrically opposed to what our apartment is like.  We look out upon a huge empty lot. Well, almost empty.  It has some trees but mostly dirt and concrete debris and one small cinder block dwelling. It is very rough. Three or four dogs lie in the dirt around the tiny house occasionally getting up to bark and chase each other around. A young boy and young woman stack plastic patio chairs. A pig roots around the yard. It all seems very strange. The whole picture. Me observing the scene below and the people who live in the house being overshadowed by the modern apartment tower. What with all the crazy things happening in the world this strange picture of me in a luxury tower and someone else living with their kid and their pig in a small dwelling just below leaves me somewhat undone. The fast and furious pace of international happenings (many of which are led by the crazy stuff in the Whitehouse) cause tears to well up and threaten to spill out. It makes me want to be at home and not traveling. Being at home would not change any of what is happening but the comfort of friends and family would be good. Well at least I have Rudy and it is great to have someone to share all these feelings with.

Despite all those feelings I enjoy some relaxing refreshing time at the pool and Rudy tunes into the Jets hockey game in the evening. Life keeps on happening and we are lucky to be enjoying each others’ company in this beautiful warm climate.

Woke up this morning– another beautiful morning. It’s our last full day here at La Mansión. Naomi made pancakes for breakfast. We topped them with  mangos and bananas and pineapple. After breakfast was cleaned up I sat around as I usually do, reading the news or watching last night’s late night talk shows on YouTube.

In the early afternoon Naomi made a guacamole dip to go with our taco chips. A couple of cold ‘Poker’ beers to go with that. I think it was shortly after our lunch that I saw the ‘Breaking News’ that Trump and Zelensky had had a major spat in front of the press. I turned on our TV. Both CNN and Al Jazeera were replaying the meeting at the White House. Already the US newspapers were calling it a most-shocking exchange, a disaster. Trump and Vance were berating Zelensky, blaming him for the war, and not letting him explain how it was the Russians who had been the instigators and aggressors. Topsy turvy. Every time you think you’ve seen it all, every time you think things can’t get more bizarre, that ‘very stable genius’ takes it down another notch.

It was unsettling. Especially for Naomi. When I suggested we go out for an ice cream cone she wasn’t in the mood for it. Said she didn’t even like ice cream! Topsy turvy. I eventually convinced her to come with me to the mall next door. She could go get herself a chocolate bar, and I’d get myself an ice cream cone.

At the mall Naomi headed upstairs to buy herself that chocolate bar and I went to the ice cream shop. There were two employees working at the counter. They appeared to be much too busy to have time to take care of a paying customer — me. One of them had a clipboard and was taking inventory. The other was cleaning one of the ice cream ‘pots’. I stood there for quite a while, pointing to the flavour of ice cream I wanted. They ignored me. I finally turned around and left. I would find my ice cream cone where someone would be happy for my business.

I headed to the supermarket at the other end of the mall. I found various ice cream treats in a cooler near the back of the store. I took out a ‘drumstick’ and took it to the checkout at the front of the store. There were three cashiers, all huddled at the only checkout that was open, looking at their phones. The one customer ahead of me had his small cart of groceries on the counter waiting to be scanned. I guess the first item needed a price check — and one of the three cashiers sauntered off with the item. And I stood there with my drumstick, waiting. I looked at two remaining cashiers, trying to catch their attention. Finally I spoke up: Could you just scan this melting ice cream cone and let me through? The guy ahead of me nodded his approval. But the cashier waved her hand at the groceries waiting to be scanned and shook her head. What? Really? I took my cone back to the freezer and left the store.

I don’t understand what’s the issue is. The Colombian people are friendly enough — but this business of super long, super slow line-ups, of people jumping the queue or butting in line, of store clerks ignoring customers like E.G Penner service people do — it’s starting to piss me off.

I finally opted for an ice coffee from the Juan Valdez coffee shop. Even here, although I was the only customer at the counter, all three workers on the other side of the counter ignored me. One was acting busy, but the other two were just standing there, looking at their phones. I had to ask for their attention, could they please take my order, etc.

By the time I got my coffee, Naomi had nearly finished her chocolate bar and had texted me “Where are you?” messages. She was sitting at a table in the central atrium of the mall. I joined her and told her the whole sad story of my ‘shopping’ misadventures. Instead of the customer doing the business a favour, here it seemed that the business was doing me the favour, allowing me to part with some of my money for their poor service. Topsy turvy.

And then I was lying on the floor beside our table. Huh? What happened? I gathered myself and struggled to get back up. The plastic chair I’d been sitting on had collapsed and I’d gone ‘topsy turvy’ to the ground. People at the tables around ours were all staring at me. One of them came running up with a different type of plastic chair — explaining that the chair I’d been on was a terrible design with very flimsy legs. I’m not sure what was more painful — my left shoulder or my pride.

We went home and spent another few hours reading and puzzling and wasting time. At around 7pm we went back to the mall for supper. Up in the food court, we enjoyed another pizza, our second this week. We were going to watch one of my downloaded movies, but once we got back home Naomi had a long phone call with one of her daughters and I started on the blog.

And that’s about it. Tomorrow morning we’ll pack up and head on down the road to our ‘new’ place.

No interesting photos today — so I’ll conclude with a couple of uninteresting ones: the complex that we’re in here at La Mansión has buildings that feature many angles so that our windows–of which we have many–give us a view in many directions.

This morning it was Rudy who was ready for an outing and I just wanted to stay inside and have my morning cup of tea. So off he went in search of a great cup of coffee and a tasty pastry. He went to the Juan Valdez coffee place next to our place but it wasn’t open yet so he had to venture further afield. It wasn’t long before he texted me that he was going to walk further to try to find the place we are moving to on Saturday. That was too much for me. I couldn’t miss out on a walk so I told him to wait and I gulped down my tea and headed out. I found him at a lovely little Panaderia down the road. He had just finished his coffee and a chocolate covered donut and he looked quite pleased with himself.

We headed off to check out our new place. It will be great to be in a new neighbourhood and to see some new sights. Rudy took a few pictures on our walk.

 

By the time we made it back we were both quite sweaty so off we went to the pool for a swim. After that I spent a good part of the afternoon at my ‘paint table’.

And Rudy forayed out again for an ice cream cone and to get more beer. The beer he likes is quite a bargain. A six pack costs 13,900 COP which works out to be 81 cents per beer. This evening Rudy is back watching the Jets and I am reading a book.

Today something that I have worried about has been confirmed.  I have learned a new lesson. There is no safe and secure way to cross a busy road! When we first arrived at our present accommodation I was relieved to note that there was a traffic light just a hundred meters up the busy street that borders the front of the complex. I would now not have to worry about dodging traffic to get across the busy roadway. But I have not used it that much as Rudy sees no necessity of walking those extra few meters to cross in safety. So I have mostly looked for a break in traffic and then run to the narrow meridian and then done the same to cross the opposite direction lanes.

But today when I went out early by myself for a walk I decided to cross at the lights. Approaching the lights I observed what happened and, for the most part, it seemed like what I was used to. However once the traffic light turned red and the walking light turned green I realized that red was only a suggestion. The motorcycles were clear on that. They slowed, sometimes, but rarely stopped. The vehicles hesitated to see if I was serious about crossing and, if I at all hesitated, they kept on going. But a firm resolve did not ease my fright. For, even if the buses and cars stopped, the motorcycles wove around the bigger vehicles and continued on. So yah, I made it across but it was not without my heart in my mouth.

Today, I took a different path (I turned left) and made my way, through small streets, towards the ocean. There were still loads of high-rises but also many lovely one-story houses tucked in and dwarfed by the massive multistory buildings. It was quiet on the streets with the occasional dog walker but also I was early enough to see the fish peddlers with their lovely fresh catch for the day, riding their bicycle carts through the quiet neighbourhoods and calling out, “Langostinos, Pescados, Camarones.”

Rudy was under the weather today so didn’t venture far. I did a little exploring and went and read a book on a patio down the street. I also spent a chunk of time painting. In the evening Rudy watched the Jets’ game and I read some more.

Today I got up and just wanted to read my book or paint on my new large pieces of watercolour paper but we needed to do some more arranging for the next leg of our stay in Colombia. We tried to negotiate a longer time at the place we are staying at because we are enjoying it so much but only managed to get another couple of days as they are booked after that. We talked and checked and looked at our calendar and where we all wanted to go yet and juggled dates and combed through Airbnb listings, and followed bus routes up the coast, and checked for deals on flights from Cartagena to Medellin and back and forth and back and forth until we were sick and tired of it all. The long and short of it is that even though we spent a huge chunk of the day on all these travel arrangements we have some stuff nailed down.

Well after all that I needed a swim. There is absolutely NOTHING like a swim in the huge pool here. I cannot say enough how rejuvenating it is to slide into the water and swim back and forth from end to end. The only thing missing is a swimming partner. I am struck with how grateful I am that dad and mom insisted that we take swimming lessons and that we had the Boissevain pool to swim in most days during the summer (as well as the lakes in the Turtle Mountains).

Now it is evening. We have walked on the beach and feasted on fresh fish. The only thing left to do is snuggle up with my book and enjoy the rest of the evening.