When you never have a bad day, you start to wonder if you possess the necessary depth and perspective to recognise a really great day. Without the troughs can I truly appreciate the peaks? It's ok. I can. Today was a great day.
It started with a morning run along Manga Bay. The sunlight hit the water in the most delightful fashion, rows of white yachts lined up invitingly, other runners smiled at me with minimal ogling, I ran into (yes, literally) a friend and had one of those fantastic symbiotic exchanges..
you know those moments when you just get each other and what is happening without having to talk about it?
I love those moments. As I ran back over the bridge to Getsemani and rounded the corner that led to Plaza Trinidad I had one of those heart-swell moments as the local traders and vendors waved to me.. I even felt affectionate towards my elderly pervert neighbour who greets me leeringly everytime I walk past (a minimum of 5 times a day). I live here! Amongst these bright yellow and blue and green painted buildings. In this neighbourhood where there is a radio permanently plugged in on every street, pumping out music you can't help but smile to. With these street dogs that I have named and assigned backstories to. With the guy selling cold coconuts and the other guy shouting out "Aguacate"! With the carrot juice man in top to toe orange. HAPPY.
Back to my house for breakfast with the birds.. literally dozens of finches, cockatiels and budgies singing and squawking their little chests out while I ate my porridge.. my crazy anorexic dog running around my feet, looking for attention, then darting off timidly when he got it. My 20 year old housemate singing Vallenato. The radio station with the corny announcer screaming sporadically "Tropicana Style Mon Niiiiiiinyoooooo!!" and my housemates giggling as I do a perfect impersonation. SO HAPPY.
I get to work, where I receive confirmation from a friend of my boss, that I am to meet the director of a movie being shot here with the view to me being cast as an extra. This would involve travelling to a gorgeous island for what would essentially be an all-expenses paid holiday. The movie is the sequel to the highest-grossing Colombian movie of all-time. A comedy.. kindof along the lines of National Lampoon's, starring John Leguizamo. I still don't know if I will do it or not because it cuts things fine re:attending Leah and Mark's wedding (which I am mega-excited about by the way). But still. Pretty darn cool.
So then, my Boss tells me that some american food channel is doing a show on street food and want to interview me. Squeal! So next thing I'm eating fried pig and discussing the joys of hot-oil rendered fat on camera. Yay yay yay! We hang about eating and talking about eating and getting filmed eating. Dream job material, seriously. At one point, someone in the crowd that had gathered to watch starts singing a little ditty. We were actually eating Arepas con queso.. those mounds of white, cheesy, buttery goodness I'd written about here. So anyway, the song was basically along the lines of "Oh! Arepa with cheese.. I want to give you a little kiss! Mwah mwah!" And because whenever I'm eating I'm happy and because when I'm happy I do a little happy dance and because he was singing.. I start dancing along.. and then some people in the crowd start cheering their support and then two guys in the crowd start shouting at each other and I don't know what they are saying but my boss explains they are kindof fighting over me. And I find the whole thing pretty amusing. But THEN my boss explains to me that in this song: Arepas con queso that he was singing and that I was dancing along to happily, the arepa with cheese they are referring to is ACTUALLY the lady's cha cha.. and THAT'S what he wants to give a kiss to. So the fact that I was wiggling along happily to it and calling out occasional "eso!'s" was kind of hilarious.
Also entertaining.. the fact that the local expert for the Cartagena-leg of the street-food series was local restauranteur Juan. This is the photo that my boss showed me of Juan before I went to meet him. So ofcourse this was what I was picturing whenever Juan asked me a question.
After this mega cool day of pretending I was a star of network food, I went a-calling for clients for the website AND managed to sign up one of my fave fave places here.. appropriately enough, a gelato store. Whee!
There were other things.. a Michael Jackson dance lesson I publicly provided to my Boss' 5 year old son, a chess-game in the plaza with the grizzled stalwarts of the barrio, an email from one of my best friends, ice cream, yoga, a perfectly ripe avocado.. but I think I've gloated enough and I'm sure I'm inviting some kind of retributory wrath.
I'll just conclude with one word and know you will understand: YAY!!!
So the beaches in Cartagena city itself leave a little to be desired by Australian standards. I'm not a total beach snob.. there's sunshine, sand and water plus palm trees so I'm happy. The fact that I can cycle to them in under 10 minutes makes me giddy. But visitors and locals alike (especially spoiled Australians) tend to complain about the pollution, colour of the sand, colour of the water etc.
Luckily there's a pristine beachy reprieve from the clouded cityside waters, at Playa Blanca. Situated on the island of Baru, just 45 minutes by boat from Cartagena, Playa Blanca is the stuff postcards dream of. The white sand alluded to in the beach's name (Playa= Beach; Blanca = White) is soft and squeaky, the water is [insert cliche - they all apply]. The boats will drop you off on a kindof main drag (as far as, relatively, beaches go).. turn left and leave the masses (again, relative) as you round the corner to a quieter stretch. Heavenly!
Armed with my secret weapon, a Colombian boyfriend, we negotiated a tent to sleep in for the night (15,000 pesos). There are also little palm rooved huts and simple hammocks. Bags dumped, we pulled out the first litre bottle of Ron Medellin and began the difficult task of relaxing. Took about 3 seconds.
The boat ride to Playa Blanca varies in price.. if you catch it from the port in front of the Torre del Reloj (Clock Tower) it will cost 40,000 pesos return (including lunch) or 35,000 pesos return (excluding lunch). BUT if you don't want to return the same day, you will have to negotiate your return trip on top of this price. You can normally get cheaper boats from Manga or from Castillogrande. Or it is possible to take a bus, then a moto and get there for as little as 7,000. But it will take you 2 hours. I should also say that if you front up looking all touristy you will probably spend a lot more than this. OR you can take the big ferry which is a cheaper option (I think 15,000 each way?) but super slow and makes all these stops along the way. Anyway.. when you think that the minimum wage here is about 150,000 a week (this is what I'm getting paid!) 40,000 or $20 is quite expensive. So that's why you (I) don't do it every weekend.
So I recommend getting the included lunch option for 5,000 pesos.Whole grilled fish, patacones, salad and coconut rice. Conversion is less than $2.50 AUS. This is what it looked like:
We happened to go the same time as my friend and work colleague Jen, and her German squeeze Carsten. If you've seen the photos, you'll know these two are magazine-worthy: bronzed, buffed and better than you. But I was too frickin chilled to allow even their ridiculous hotness to make me feel self-conscious as I let it all hang out. I drank coconut juice then ate the flesh, I swam, I made out with the aforementioned Colombian boyfriend, I slept,
I drank rum. People visited us, we chatted. Like with the incredibly nice and cool Arnando who runs a kitesurfing school on the beach. The sun went down. We added rum to our coconuts and snacked on crispy patacones chips. Life was pretty darn good.
Mid-way through the second litre bottle of rum we decided to get dinner. We walked up to Mama Ruth's which is hands-down the best spot to eat. Beautiful steamed-in-the-bag fish, garlic prawns, dream catchers everywhere.. and a gorgeous hippie couple working there that made this amazing jewelery from coral and silver and shells. My spend-no-money resolve loosened by the rum, I maybe bought myself a few reminders..
Truthfully, the remainder of the night is fairly blurry but definitely involved dancing on the beach and skinny dipping. Though, ofcourse, I would do both of those things sober. I also insisted on drunkenly making tuna and corn sandwiches for anyone who came within cooee of our little beach shelter. Apparently they were appreciated.
Next morning I literally crawled from my unzippered tent, past the emptied third litre-bottle of rum, to the welcoming warm caribbean waters. Sins absolved, I continued on in the same fashion as the previous day: eat, sleep, read, make-out, sleep, swim. HAPPY. I maybe also did a few cartwheels.
We arranged to board a boat at 2. Things didn't exactly go to plan on this front. Because you are squeezing onboard boats with other people who only came over for the day.. it is better to negotiate as a two-some then as a four-some. That's just for future, visit-playa-blanca reference. Long-story- crazy-beach-filled-with-crazy-locals-short, we eventually made it back. Oh! further tip from those in the know. When selecting your seat on the boat - be sure to hustle your way to the back seat. Way less bumps and bum bruises.
Anyway.. sorry for the unnecessary detail.. I kindof thought I'd make this post a wee bit educational because Playa Blanca is somewhere people might actually visit. So hence prices, locations etc
So in summary... When I choose to take a holiday from my perpetual holiday, I choose Playa Blanca. White on, man.
