We've taken a local bus, or chiva, to a small town up the Caribbean coast called Taganga. Loved by locals and gringoes alike, it is a pretty fishing town that wouldn't look out of place on a Greek island. There isn't much to do, which is quite lovely after the sweltering temperatures of Cartagena. Although its still ridiculously hot, you just don't end up bathing in your own sweat every hour.
Backed by forested mountains Taganga is fairly small with a rustic charm and quite possibly the worst roads we've ever seen. I'm sorry, I take that back, piles of rubble do not constitute roads; they're not even tracks, just boulder after boulder with cars, motorbikes, dogs, chickens and the occasional donkey struggling to navigate them. Yes, the donkey, or mule, is still used as a mode of transportation in this part of Colombia. It's just not something you expect to see wandering past the entrance of your hostel, while chowing down on your morning granola and fruit.
Our accommodation for this leg of our Colombian tour was the wonderful hostel Divanga. Perched on a hill overlooking the town, Divanga is an extremely welcoming place complete with a small pool, killer cocktails and Rolling Stones videos. They also serve amazing ceviche - hurrah! The food fest continues... In fact Taganga is all about fish, with fresh hauls brought onto shore every morning and delivered to local cafes and restaurants ensuring only the freshest fish is ever available. I've probably eaten more of the stuff than I do in a month in Australia. When in Colombia...
Pool with a view
We chilled out at Divanga for a couple of days before embarking on an overnight trip and hike to Tayrona, Colombia's Caribbean national park with pretty beaches often rated in the top 10 of the world. After being dropped off at the park entrance we donned our backpacks and began our trek through beautiful tropical forests that hugged the coastline, giving way to spectacular coastal views, armies of leaf cutter ants and centipedes the size of horses. Our destination was a campsite two hours through the jungle; the reward being a stunning coved bay to swim in and hammocks for sleeping.
About 20 minutes into our trip we realised that our perspirations in Cartagena were a mere drop in the proverbial sweaty ocean compared to the humidity of Tayrona. We arrived at the campsite sodden from head to toe. I won't over share the unpleasant details as I am wont to do, but lets just say my bra was still damp by the time we left 24 hours later. Thank god for sea and bikinis. After locating our hammock for the night we did the only thing anyone should do at a beautiful hidden beach: lie on it, work on the tan, swim in the sea, and read copious amounts of literature.
5-star accommodation...
Paradise...?
Sadly the campsite 'restaurant' didn't quite live up to expectations (no ceviche here. What!?!). I settled for a 'mushroom pasta' that consisted of a bowl of spaghetti with Campbell's mushroom soup poured on top. I really really don't recommend it.
With lights out at 9pm we climbed into our beds for the night, listening to the ocean and letting our hammocks sway us to sleep. We felt like true gringoes!
Waking early, we snatched a few more hours beach time before commencing our trek back to Taganga. We spent our last night hanging out with the staff at Divanga and ended up at the local hippie club where our host played reggaton while we tried hopelessly to keep in time.
Jenny from the Taganga block makes killer cocktails with dance moves to match...
Just as we were starting to feel part of the furniture it was time to pack our bags and move on. It's the one problem of travelling on a strict timeframe (first-world problems I know), but just as soon as we settle in somewhere and get to know people it's time to say ciau. Its all good though. We're leaving the coast and heading into Colombia's mountainous interior. Who knows what awaits us in the forests of Colombia! Hopefully not FARC... (Joke, Mum).
Laterz x
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