Cartagena
Author: Shirlz
There were quite a few yachts anchored off Club Nautica, where you are allowed to use the dinghy dock. It was a short row, although I had to keep a sharp eye out for the fast water taxis that were constantly speeding about creating an enormous wake.
The port captain refuses to deal personally with arriving yachties making it essential to use an agent for the clearing in process and the woman in the club office helpfully phoned an agent for me who arrived within half an hour. Apart from having to pay US$120 for the service, it was quick and painless. I did not get a cruising permit as this would have cost an additional $120, but if I cleared out again within 12 days I could make short stops along the coast en route to Panama. That sounded OK to me as I didn’t want to spend too long in the nutrient rich waters of Cartagena harbour. As far as I could discover, all the other cruising yachts were heading up from Panama. There was still no one to compare notes with for the route I was taking.
As soon as the official stuff was over, I set off to explore the old city. It was hot and humid, very much warmer than the weather I had become used to along the Eastern Caribbean islands. Sweat literally dripped off me as I strolled along, water bottle within easy reach in a side-pocket of my back pack. It’s a fairly short walk from the yacht club across an arched bridge over to the other side of the lagoon which gave a great view past the old fort of San Sebastian to the anchorage. Then it was down into a colourful, narrow street leading to the centre of town. I came out onto an enormous esplanade with a park on one side and a graceful old clock tower over a heavy stone archway at the far end.
All very impressive, but the really interesting parts were a bit further on where there are a bewildering number of beautiful old Spanish colonial buildings, small parks and plazas shaded with giant spreading ficus trees. Crowds of pigeons strutting about round imperialistic statues. Most of the parks and plazas have free, open Wi-Fi. I wandered through a museum chronicling the horrors of the inquisition. After that I needed a break and bought a big cup of freshly squeezed orange juice with ice from a street vendor for 1000 pesos (about 30c) and cooled off under a shady tree.
There is a maze of narrow side streets with lots of small hostels and eateries as well as luxury shops and jewellers displaying brilliant green emeralds. I drooled over a tennis bracelet of sparkling green gemstones. Wherever there is a blank wall it has been covered with wonderful graffiti and many of the upper level wooden balconies are draped with flowering creepers.
Everywhere there was colour and strikingly off-beat design. My camera was working overtime. (How I wish I had a better one). I rounded off the day by walking back along the wide top of the ancient city wall which gave a great view of the rooftops on one side and the sea that I’d recently sailed on the other.
On another day I rowed ashore early with my two 10 litre jerry cans to buy diesel from the nearest filling station. It was an easy walk along a smooth pedestrian/cycle track and my little trolley was a great help. It needed two trips to fill the main tank which I had last filled back in Martinique. Later I set off on a mission to find a replacement for my small 12V computer fan that keeps me cool at night. I bought it about 7 years ago in Brazil and it has given me faithful, low-amperage, cooling service almost continuously, but a day after arriving in the Colombian heat it decided that enough was enough and simply stopped. A few squirts of WD40 restored it for 2 days, but then it gave off a spiteful spark and died completely with a whiff of burning plastic. On my sightseeing trips I had explored the enormous covered market called Centro Comercial Getsemani which housed hundreds of small traders ranging from cell-phones to hair-extensions, interesting snack-food, clothing and computer paraphernalia. I was sure I’d be able to find what I needed. But no, the best on offer was a really tiny fan about 5cm across. Not good enough, but the helpful stall-keeper gave me detailed directions as to where I could find a more likely supplier.
I set off hopefully, away from the historical district to a more commercial part of town. No more tourists here, but crowds of real people going about their business. Then I was caught in a tropical downpour. Thunder and lightning, torrential rain. I joined a crowd sheltering in an arcade fronting one of the old buildings. Everyone frozen in a state of suspended animation waiting for the rain to stop. At last it did and life carried on. But some streets were flooded and crossing most roads involved a big leap over the streaming gutters, often helped by someone on the other side who saw my difficulty and would point at where the river was narrowest. At last I found the shop, called ‘Electronica’ on Avenida Daniel Lemaitre, and went in. It appeared to specialize in sound equipment, big speakers and amplifiers on display. I explained what I was looking for and was amazed and delighted to be met, not with a vacant and unbelieving stare, but a brisk inquiry as to whether it should be 12V or 110. She had exactly what I wanted and at a price that translated to US$5, I decided to invest in two. Each was carefully tested before I was allowed to leave. Back at the boat a few hours later, I wired it up and could be blissfully cooled again.
May 31st, 2017 at 15:05
Hi, Just curious, but considering all the time you have spent in South America, I am guessing your Spanish is pretty good, am I correct? I just spent the better part of 2 years in Mexico and Central America and was unsuccessful in learning much myself. I need to try harder next time, but one pitfall is the locals look at me and start speaking english :).
June 5th, 2017 at 14:13
I am far from fluent but seem to get by..