Category: Santa Marta

Today I decided to go for one last walk along the ocean before we head inland. But before that walk Rudy and I headed out for breakfast, back to the establishments surrounding the Parque de los Novios.  We chose a new place and Rudy had his morning cappuccino and I had an iced coffee. Already it was hot and the thought of a hot drink was not at all appealing. (I have even forgone my morning cup of tea. No need to heat up the apartment or myself more than necessary.) Rudy finally got the waffles and fruit he has been wishing for for quite some time and I had a French egg on toast with avocado and feta cheese. What is a French egg you may ask? It is an omelette.

After breakfast, I dropped Rudy off at the door of our apartment building and headed out for an adventure. This time I followed the beaches as far as I could go until I hit the river. The water appeared less murky today away from the main harbour. In fact, I felt more optimistic about the state of the world. I stopped to watch a flock of egrets playing on the shore and for a time I was carried away with the beauty of the scene.

Along the beach there were families in the water; a dad laughing and splashing his kids, a man in the water letting himself be pushed by the waves. In the distance there were men raking the shore and cleaning the litter. And in my present mood even the piles of random flip flops, kids’ runners, and running shoe soles that were piled artistically on the sand tangled with seaweed and stones were beautiful. As I continued down the beach it was harder to frame the junk that was scattered everywhere as anywhere near appealing. The beach was full of it. I began to document it all with my camera.  There was a teepee-like structure made of driftwood and old towels with the interior of it littered with bottles, plastic bags and bottle caps. The waves had deposited piles of tangled debris that from a distance looked like nests but on closer inspection where piles of garbage tangled in organic matter.  By squinting my eyes and looking out to sea it was immense and beautiful and awe inspiring. But looking down at my feet…..

When I got home and looked through my photos to put into this blog I chuckled. What I had in my photo gallery (besides the above pictures) was about 10 pictures of yours truly (and they weren’t very flattering either). I had accidentally pushed the screen reverse and because it was so bright and I had my sunglasses on,  I couldn’t seen the screen and was shooting blindly. So, no pictures of all the garbage juxtaposed with the vast and beautiful ocean or the city skyline. Nothing that might show some interesting photo journalism.

On the way home I stopped to take some photos of some of the murals across the street from our place. These fish paintings are on the big wall just across the street from our apartment — each fish is about 5 feet tall.

Back home Rudy and I ate leftovers from the fridge for lunch,  I plunged into the pool to cool off and started a new book by Wallace Stegner called The Spectator Bird and Rudy resumed whatever it is he does during the day. (I am sure all that reading of politics is going to solve some of the big world problems we are experiencing.)

Tomorrow we must pack and head off to Minca.

We woke to quiet. The wind was not screeching and howling around our building but it wasn’t long before it picked up and we escaped down to the streets below to avoid the incessant noise. We were in search of a good cup of coffee (for Rudy) and some delicious breakfast drink for me. As always, we go out in search of food and drink with a little bit of trepidation. Yesterday, for example, we went out for margaritas late afternoon and after some aimless wandering and indecision we stopped at a place and ordered. Before we even got our drinks I was beginning to regret our choice. It smelled of sewer in the vicinity and everything seemed a little dirty. When the drinks arrived my doubts were confirmed. No ice, no salt or tahine on the rims of the glasses, and the drinks certainly didn’t taste very good. Well at least they are 2 for the price of 1, we thought. We thought wrong. They were full price and more expensive than many places we had been. Anyway, back to this morning. We found a cool little hippy place and went inside. The breeze was cool inside and the coffee was delicious (not so the vegan pancakes, but 1 out of 2 is not bad). It was a great experience all in all. A couple of stray dogs came into the restaurant and lay in the cool. Supplies arrived (a man with a huge bag of Columbian coffee beans slung over his shoulder and another man with a bag of coconuts.) There was no loud Latin music playing (instead there was some melodic folk music). We left refreshed and ready for the day.

Midday finds us holed up in the apartment. It is much too hot to venture out unless it is to the pool on the rooftop terrance. I spent time on drawing and watercolour and reading, and Rudy on photo editing and reading the news.

Around three o’clock we ventured out on a mission. Rudy had found that he could get an eSIM for his phone if he went to a bigger ‘official’ Claro store at a mall. He typed the address into google maps and we started out. But…. there are many quadrants in a city and just because you are on the corner of Calle 11 and Carretera 3 doesn’t mean you are at the right place. And of course we weren’t.

But the expedition wasn’t in vain. We saw a new part of the city and it reminded me a lot of many areas in Xela, Guatemala where we lived as a family almost 30 years ago. The area was more true to life for regular folks, I think. It was dirtier, more shops crowded into small areas, and many street vendors selling food and drinks (of course) but also underwear and plastic trinkets and electronic devices. I should have counted the number of shoe shops in one block (not to mention those selling shoes on carts). It seems almost impossible that people can make a living and sell much of anything. And what is to differentiate between one shoe stall and another? After we admitted defeat, (we had been on a road that didn’t lead us to where we wanted to go), we stopped at the bank to take out cash and headed home again.

At 6ish we headed out again. We chose a quiet spot (Don Chuco’s) for seafood. I had coconut shrimp and Rudy some delicious grilled fish with shrimp sauce over it. Don Chuco’s is just off the Parque de Novios but is quiet as opposed to the bars and restaurants across the park on the main walkway. They even had an actual singer who played guitar and it was so quietly refreshing. So far we have been subjected to mostly no-talent outfits who have an amp over their shoulder and basically they rap or sing (and I use this term loosely) karaoke to some canned music. But people must make money and it is that or sell lollipops, or jewelry, or cigarettes on the streets. It is not an easy life for a lot of people.

Tomorrow is our last full day in Santa Marta.

Well, I really have nothing new or exciting to share today.  A travel blog is hard to keep up when we are not moving anywhere.  We have sat in one place too long but we do not leave Santa Marta until Thursday. Life is good here but it has little to do with any new discoveries in our physical surroundings. The discoveries that I have had have to do with seeing a street corner in a new way that causes me want to take pencil to paper.  It doesn’t even have to be a street corner. It can be a shelf in the apartment or a pot on the rooftop terrance. I continue to enjoy the experience of drawing. It is like learning a new way to say something. So, life is good here but nothing mind blowing to report.

Like many of you (because it was Monday) I did laundry. It took a little longer as I had to figure out a strange washing apparatus that has directions in Spanish. But all worked out and our damp clothes are hanging around the apartment. We continue to do some light cooking in our apartment during the day, but always go out for supper.

We went out for our usual late afternoon walk. There is definitely a safe core area within which we walk and then a seedy area beyond. All in all this central area of town around the port is dirty and sometimes uncomfortable. I don’t wander far even when I am with Rudy. But we did take some great pics this evening and watched the sun set on the ocean.

The wind is wild here. I looked it up and the breeze is names “la loca” and it certainly often feels crazy. All evening and night the wind whistles and screeches  through the windows of our apartment. Sometimes when I close my eyes it feels like I am listening to a Manitoba blizzard just outside my door. But no, we are here.

 

 

 

I slept in this morning. When I finally crawled out of bed, Naomi was already deep in her book. I made myself a coffee with the new coffee maker we got yesterday (after we broke the carafe and had to get our host to go buy a new one for us). We each had a yogurt from the fridge and called it breakfast. Then we were back on our devices, getting caught up with what’s happening in the world. Naomi got out her art materials and did some more sketching and painting. I watched some of my morning shows on YouTube until somehow I stumbled onto a Del Barber record that I didn’t know about. I downloaded it and we listened to Del Barber and felt a bit sad that we wouldn’t be in Winnipeg at the end of the month for his farewell “Last Kick at the Can” concert.

Naomi offered to go find a bakery and bring back some croissants for lunch. She came back with some really cool bread and we made sandwiches and drank our last two beers. After lunch Naomi and I played a game of battleship, one of the games on the shelf beside the kitchen. Then Naomi went back to the rooftop to read and take a few dips in the pool. I looked at Airbnb options for the town of Minca, about a 40-minute taxi ride from here. Our stay in Santa Marta ends on Thursday, so we’ve booked a ‘cottage’ in Minca for a week after we’re done here.

Naomi was hoping to take a few nice ‘sunset on the ocean’ photos, but the sun had just set when she thought of it. Tomorrow, I guess. It was 6:30 and that’s when I remembered the Super Bowl is on tonight — starting at 7:00pm. We hurried out the door and off into the street, looking for a place to have a quick supper before the game started. Well, actually, I said I didn’t care about the Super Bowl — neither of the teams was ‘my’ team. I knew I wouldn’t cheer for the Chiefs just because I usually cheer for the underdogs — and I thought the Eagles would probably lose. We did a little walk around on the ‘walking’ street a block south of our place. Lots of people out on Sunday night. Lots of nice restaurants to choose from. We wandered around a bit, sort of looking for a place that was showing the football game on TV, but most TVs were showing a soccer game. We finally sat down at a table at the Mexican restaurant we’d eaten at a couple of days ago. Ordered the same again. Not bad. Margaritas and fish tacos.

After supper we went for one more walk up and down the strip and voila! the corner bar WAS showing the NFL game, already in progress. And what’s this? The Eagles are up 7-0! We grabbed a table near the TV, order a couple of beers, and watched those Eagles rack up another 10 points before halftime, while the Chiefs floundered. We paid for our drinks and left. The mind-numbing dance music was much too loud, and I thought I could probably find the game online and finish watching it at home.

And I did. And man!, the second half was just more of the same — LOTS to cheer about if you were rooting for the Eagles. Final score: Eagles 40, Chiefs 22. Never even close!

And that’s how the day ended. Well, except that Naomi called it a night and reminded me that I had said I would write the blog post. So here I am, still sitting here with my computer, and it’s already tomorrow! Time to shut’er down  and let that loud disco music from down below our 5th floor window ‘rock’ me to sleep.

 

The rooster who resides close by was crowing and had been for quite some time when I finally opened my eyes this morning. It was late and I had slept in. Rudy had as well. Perhaps we had both not slept well. Me because I was hogging the top sheet all night long and had to keep vigilant so Rudy would not be comfortable. And Rudy because he was cold and disoriented, perhaps thinking he was fighting the winter chill in Manitoba.

We had been planning on going out for waffles but by the time we got organized it seemed too late for breakfast so I made omelettes again and had it with sliced avocado.

After breakfast I hauled out my art supplies determined to use the tutorial I watched online yesterday evening (thanks Drawing with Debbie) and attempt a different looser style. I got my 3 water colour washes mixed, went up to the terrace and roughed in a plant with my pencil and applied the 3 general areas of colour. Back in the apartment I used a pencil to draw the subject and then used pencil crayons and a bit more water colour to create shade and shadow. Why am I telling you all this? Not sure, but Debbie gave a running commentary of what she was doing and I thought I could as well. I had a lot of fun just playing around with shapes and colours and maybe even learned something. I also have been having fun doing blind drawings as an exercise in line study. There is only one of us on this trip that totally loves the rough illustrations of Rudy that I come up with while I am drawing with my eyes closed.

In the afternoon I headed out a bit to walk along the beach. I hadn’t been there in daylight and it was not very good. The water is filthy due to a number of factors: coal ships docking at the harbour, general pollution and sewage. There were some locals swimming but it was all I could do to wade up to my ankles. I went quite a ways down the beach and nothing really changed. It was super discouraging. I came back and cooled at the pool and tried to forget about the ocean. I won’t be going down there again.

As usual supper hour is one of the best times of the day. Rudy and I sit for a few hours drinking and eating and enjoying great conversation.  When away from friends and other family and only having each other to converse with brings up a whole range of conversations  and time just flies.

I feel like I am settling in and looking forward to tomorrow.

 

 

The highlight today for me was the pool and rooftop. But I won’t get carried away with waxing eloquent about how lovely sitting in the breeze up there was before I do some chronological reporting.

The beginning of the day found me making breakfast at our new place. I scrambled eggs with cheese and we had coffee and tea. Do you really care? Just because I am away in another country do I have the right to bore you with my mundane comings and goings? Whether I have the right or not, that is exactly what I am doing.

After this stupendous breakfast I left all the cleanup to someone who cares about that (Rudy Nikkel) and went for a walking adventure. My route was determined by how much shade I could find. I basically followed those shady sides of the street and wandered around the historical district and somewhat beyond. I do not quite feel at home here yet and am not sure which areas are more shady (the other shady, as in ‘not quite safe’) so I had to keep my eyes open. Every so often I encountered police on the corner and so felt okay, although at one point I found myself walking down a street that was lined with men and I soon began to feel somewhat uncomfortable. They were calling out to me so I picked up my pace and turned at the next corner. I found myself very near the shipyards where all the cargo comes in. Santa Marta is one of the deepest harbours in the world so it has a huge shipping industry. Perhaps this is not a very savoury area so I quickly made my way back to an area that was a little less seedy and continued my walk.

On returning to our apartment I spent a chunk of the rest of the morning trying to do some art. I had brought along some watercolour markers and experimented with these (not a lot of success). I then worked on some line drawings and finally some blind drawings (some even with my left hand). They are hilarious and wonderful at the same time. Not to mention a lot of fun to do because the stakes are not very high and the quality and strange placement of lines on the page result in objects that are somewhat recognizable but also look abstract and like a kind of modern art.

Then it was time to ascend the steps to the rooftop. Ah, the glorious cool refreshing water. There is nothing like a tub of cool water on a hot day.  I alternated between immersing myself in the pool and reading, drawing, and doing sudoko.

At one point Rudy came up to check in. He had been traipsing up and down the streets trying to find a bank to get money. But he was not content to get money at any cost. He wanted a good rate of exchange and not too high a fee, and so far none of the ATMs he’d tried had a ‘reasonable’ exchange rate. And even when he ‘accepted’ the exchange rate at a few of the banks, his transaction was declined. Now what? No cash? We may have to use our credit card until we figure this out.

Rudy went back to the room and asked ChatGPT for help. He learned that recently Canada’s Scotiabank had purchased Copatria, a Colombian bank, and they didn’t charge Canadian ATM cards a premium. Okay. Google maps showed a branch was not too far away. You would think his troubles were over. Not so. No matter how many times he put his card into the slot and answered all the prompts, the machine spit out his card — transaction declined. He even had number of bank workers as well as friendly patrons offering their help. What was the problem? He was about to give up when one of the ‘helpers’ suggested he go to one of the tellers and see if he could withdraw money that way. Rudy wasn’t optimistic, but got in line. And as he thought about it and looked at his credit union phone app, it dawned on him! He remembered that after his last cash withdrawal he had put a hold on his card using the app. He logged in and clicked the ‘lock’ off. He left the lineup and went back to the ATM and tried again. Chug, chug, chug — out came MILLIONS of Colombian pesos. He took stuffed the wad of bills into his pocket, wiped the egg off his face, and headed back to the apartment.

Was that enough excitement for the day? Nope, I guess not, because Rudy managed to get the Jets game streaming and we are happy to announce that they won again. (I guess all you folks know that already because you were right close to Winnipeg  where it all was happening.)

 

Today I am having trouble thinking of anything exciting to write about.  I mean,  as far as travel goes we really only moved about 500 metres down the street to our new place. But it feels like we have turned over a new leaf. We have a lot more space even though this new place is a little apartment. But it is all in the comparison.  As I write Rudy is lying on the couch and I am perched on a stool at the island and there is wide spacious bedroom and large floor to ceiling windows that look out at an old church in a square, the mountains on the edge of the city as well as a construction site.

Today was a day to meet more Canadians. After we had settled into our new place we decided to go and pick up foodstuffs at a grocery store. While we waited in line at the cashier, we chatted with two women (one from Kitchener, and her sister from North Carolina). The North Carolina woman is the first American that we have encountered and she and her sister both  were born in Santa Marta, Columbia,  so perhaps they don’t even count as Canadian or American. They were back in Santa Marta to celebrate their mother’s 92nd birthday. They were so excited to hear that we were very much enjoying their much-beloved country.

At coffee this morning we met a friendly Jehovah’s Witness woman from Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. She was very lovely and did not exactly fit the stereotype of a JW.  She was one of those people who so easily can move from one subject to another and share loads of information about her life and travels. At the same time she could not resist inserting loads of JW information into the talk. She consistently baited us to ask questions about the meaning of life, etc. But, to be fair, we all speak about what has meaning for us and perhaps even proselytize about our exercise programs, political views, and spiritual and emotional understandings, so I can give her that. However,  at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder whether we counted as two house calls or one in her ‘witnessing quota’ for the day.

Then in the evening, as we were catching a bite to eat, we chatted with a Canadian/Columbian woman and her Canadian husband and friends who were waiting for their food at the table next to us. They too had a very interesting story and it was a great conversation to wile away some of the evening.

And so you might ask, how much have we learned about Colombian culture so far on this trip? Well, not too much so far. We are just visitors here and our Spanish language skills are minimal, so we really sit back and watch it all swirl around us and enjoy whatever part of the ride we can take in.

 

 

Despite having a lovely sleep in our cozy little cave, we are making plans to leave these digs and move into a place that is a little better suited for us. The thought of spending a whole week in this small cramped space with no table (to eat at, or do art at, or read the news at, or to blog at) is not great. Our bed is really the only place where we can sit or lie down, although Rudy has joked about putting the placemats (that the apartment has supplied….WHY?) on the bed so we could enjoy our morning coffee and pastries there. I am really not all that keen to have coffee stains and crumbs all over the sheets, our books, computers, sweaty t-shirts, etc.

But enough complaining about such  small discomforts in a world that seems to be coming apart at the seams. (Just a short look at the news is enough to make a person grateful for so many things and fearful for so many others).

On the upside, I was able to do a large load of laundry today. When I say I did, I must amend that. Rudy provided much needed technical support: he plugged in the washer when I struggled to figure out how to get everything started. (duh!) Also, he spun and hung up most of the clothes while I was on the phone with my daughter, Ana and her kids. Of course when I emerged  from the bedroom (well, let me call it the multipurpose room) after the phone call, I had only critical things to say about how the clothes were hung and proceeded to straighten and move them over at least an inch to the left or the right on the drying rack. But despite my incompetence and my critical meddling, I am happy to report that the laundry all dried in record time due to the unbearable temperature in our apartment.

The long and short of All My Puny Sorrows (special nod to Miriam Toews) is that we are moving to another place that is closer to the historic centre of town, has a table and a couch, and a bit more space. Hopefully our perusing of Airbnb places online this afternoon has been fruitful. It is not always clear what a place will be like just by looking at the photos, but we have done our research, rolled the dice, and chosen. We will move tomorrow late afternoon and stay there for a week (god willing).

Once it cooled in the late afternoon we headed out again. The wind is very strong coming off the ocean and I am totally enjoying Rudy’s new updos. His long locks have a mind of their own and at any given moment his look can change from that of Albert Einstein (brilliant thinker) to Phyllis Diller (not so brilliant but super funny). I get more laughs from these style statements than I should and Rudy certainly lets me know.

Our evening was similar to the previous one: wandering, watching people, eating fish, and drinking margaritas. After dark we made our way home over rough sidewalks, dodging dog poop, and keeping our eyes out for any suspicious characters. Once home, we unlocked the big steel door, climbed the stifling hot vertical tunnel via the narrow spiral staircase and carefully, so as not to trip and fall to our death, entered the close quarters of our stiflingly hot, but safe, apartment.

Hopefully for the last time!

 

Santa Marta, here we come. Our bags are packed, apartment put to order, and the Uber is waiting at the corner. We drive the half hour to the airport and I am reminded as to how much of Bogota there is still to see and how different it is from our little neighbourhood where we stayed.  It is a reminder that a person only sees little snippets of the places they travel to. (I guess this is true  that I miss  things in  my own neighbourhood around Henry Street as well). We make it to our terminal with little time to spare which does not cause any consternation for my traveling companion but is not the same for me.  I am relieved that there were no roadblocks (both literal and figurative) that got in the way and that we made it on time. Rudy purchased the tickets a few days ago and I find that he has placed himself in seat 1C (in first class) and I am riding steerage in seat 23F.  He will have some explaining to do when we land in Santa Marta. Upon landing Rudy is very refreshed after being served a beer, some chips, and having had a flight attendant pat his face down with a cool damp washcloth.  I am harried. I drop my large metal water bottle on my head from the overhead bin and wrestle my carryon suitcase and overstuffed backpack down the long aisle.

Santa Marta is HOT. We are dressed in our Bogota clothes (long pants, sweatshirts, and socks and shoes). After waiting for our Uber we are more than glad to get into the air-conditioned car. It is a long ride to our Airbnb.  When the Uber drops us off at the address we are unsure whether we are in the right place. Not so for a gentleman sitting on a bench at a tienda across the street. (Who is this guy anyway and who has appointed him our tour guide?) He, very excitedly, directs us up the street a block and when we remain confused, he runs after us and points us around a corner and down another street.  We are hot and tired and sweaty and when we review the address we realize we were at the right place all along.  Our Airbnb host meets us and directs us up a spiral staircase (almost like a firefighter’s pole) and into a boiling hot shoebox. (The motorhome in Bogota seems luxurious next to this terrible place.) Rudy is mad and I feel like I might like to have a good cry. What to do? Rudy determines that nothing can be done until he has a cold beer and I opt for a shower to cool me down.

After we lie very still for sometime as the air-conditioning starts to work I make the decision for us to go out and find some late lunch or early supper (it is 4:30).  At this point things start to look up. The day is starting to cool and we head towards the beach and the historical district. The wind off the ocean is soothing and there is much to see. After walking for 15 minutes or so we come upon El Parque de los Novios. And tucked into one of the corners is a lovely restaurant. It is quiet and shady and there is a cool breeze blowing through the trees. Rudy has done some research about food in Santa Marta and has found that the seafood is the only way to go (duh, we are on the ocean). I could wax eloquent about the Grouper and Sea Bass and Prawns we have.

We sit for a long time enjoying the people passing by and then head back down to the ocean for the last of the sunset.

Tomorrow is another day. We will figure out what to do with our lodging then.