Thanks for joining again, particularly our little fan club from Russia.
The final beach chapter (for a little while) has just been completed. After a month in the Amazon we were keen to get to the Carribean coast of Colombia.
We arrived in Cartagena, a beautiful colonial town, this quick visit consisted of a long walk sampling tropical fruit, tropical ice cream and tropical juice. Brett also went for an amazing sunset run on and around the city walls and got his Parkour on. This was followed by self catering a real Michelle Herskope style chicken salad with kiwi fruit. Nothing like some home cooked comfort food once in awhile!
Next destination was back to school, in Taganga. Here we spent a week learning Spanish in the mornings, followed by beaching, and eating freshly grilled fish in the afternoons. Aside from the threats from the local fisherman of flesh eating sharks patrolling the waters Brett would swim the 1km back from the quieter beach to Taganga main beach in the late afternoon. Of course Giselle the Watchman, would scour the cliffs alongside the water making sure Brett wasn't hit by the much more threatening speed boats. There were no sharks. The fisherman just didn't like Brett 'Trespassing' in their fishing spots. An ominous signal for the future perhaps? Or definitely? Yep, definitely. But hold on to your horses, we shall return to that later.
The following destination was a definite highlight...La Guajira.
Ah, this magical peninsula is situated at the northern most point of the continent. An area in which indigenous Colombians called 'Wayyu Indians' still reign supreme. They were the only Indians who won the battle against the Spanish and were left alone. A fiercely proud people in a fierce rugged desert flanked by turquoise Caribbean waters. We slept in hammocks under a tin roof right on the beach, ate fish cooked by the local family and walked along beaches. In utter isolation from the world. It was quite a strange feeling to know we were so isolated that the world could end and we wouldn't know. We were hundreds of kilometres out in the desert in the middle of nowhere. It was absolutely fantastic. There were more goats, grass hopper type insects that were as big as your forearm!! and snakes than people in the area and then us swinging in our hammocks by the sea.
The journey to this region was made even better when over 400 4x4 bikes and 4WDs arrived in town for a "Rally Raid". Before we knew it we found ourselves on the back of 2 bikes of our new made friends Diego and his son Juan Diego (no seriously that was their names) hooning around the desert. Diego and his friends had no hesitations in sharing their 'Ron' (which is rum, not Giselle's dad) and whisky as we watched the sun set on a deserted beach.
We followed this spectacular part of our trip with the beautiful Parque Tayrona. Finally after Brett carrying the tent for 3.5 months we broke it out of its plastic! Parque Tayrona is an amazing national park, just imagine boulder strewn picture perfect Caribbean beaches with dense tropical rainforest as a back drop. An exciting find in the middle of the park was a bakery with fresh out of the oven Pan au Chocolate (which Parisian bakeries could only dream of making). This and a nudist beach, Brett took full advantage of, of course.
After a bone rattling 12 hour bus ride we arrived in the aptly named Turbo (you just want to get the hell out of there!). A transit hub where we caught the boat on route to Capurgana/Sapzurro which lie in the Darien Gap on the border with Panama.
These two places still have little kids fishing, old women selling coconut icecream, and older men walking aimlessly at a snails pace or sitting around playing checkers. Jungle walks to rickety lookout points, sitting by the shore watching turtles, walking across the border to Panama to swim in even more isolated beaches and a couple of scuba dives were the order of the day.
Or was it. No. There was more. Sapzurro had the most action it had had in years. Whilst walking from Sapzurro to Capurgana Brett missed the trail. As there were no fences, ('Trespassing' is not really a thing that exists in places like that) Brett decided to walk past a house toward the track. Boom, out of nowhere a huge dog came barging down the stairs, barking its head off, furiously chasing Brett. Unable to out it, it leapt at Brett and chomped down on his thigh. Meanwhile the owner came screaming and sent the dog elsewhere. In an ill attempt to protect himself, Brett threw a water bottle at the dog. And missed. Didn't really deter it. Luckily Brett had had his pre rabies vaccinations. Supposedly the dog didn't have rabies, however what it did do was tear Brett's demons shorts into tatters. For those of you who are not acquainted with these shorts, they have accompanied him on every overseas journey and had represented 'good luck'. RIP. So it was big news, in an attempt to justify the guard dogs behaviour, the owner claimed Brett was 'trespassing', only for the whole army (which patrols Sapzurro as it is a border town with Panama) to basically tell her where to go shove it. Turns out Brett was the 4th victim of Valenton, the dogs name, which roughly translates to 'Brave'. A tetanus jab in the bum and some post bite injections later the wounds are healing up! Luckily, this ordeal didn't sour the memory of another place off the Gringo trail which truly delivered the goods.
Brett's highlight: Nudie swimming in the cool turqoise Carribean waters of Parque Tayrona.
Giselle's highlight: Being able to half string together a sentence in Spanish.
