Cartagena is a colonial town on Colombia’s Caribbean coastline. Its center is on a little island by the shore, and is surround by a massive fortress wall.
The colonial streets are wonderful, colorful and Caribbean. Fuscia and purple flowers bloomed from vines covering the buildings. And the city feels really vibrant and lived in — tourism is there, but hasn’t taken over. To a North American, it feels like an undiscovered little gem.
Finishing our exodus in style (and to purge the bedbugs from memory) we stayed in a great little boutique hotel, with only three rooms. Though Spanish colonial, it was decorated with some Indonesian, Thai and perhaps Turkish objects, which worked well. And the little rooftop dipping pool was great for scorching humid days. It occurred to us that one of these would make Brooklyn much more livable.
I was kind of sick most of the time in Cartagena, so I took it easy. At the Museum of the Spanish Inquisition, Jason tried out the rack.
A sloth lived in the large old tree outside the museum.
Local food included lots of fish in coconut sauce and fried plantains.
After a couple days, we rode buses to a small seaside fishing village, Taganga, for a little diving. The diving wasn’t thrilling, but it was nice to get back into the water after three months. Local children borrowed my mask and snorkel under the beach, and turned endless somersaults underwater.
We spent the last days of our nine month honeymoon back in Cartagena, relaxing. The last excursion of the trip was to see the large Spanish fort outside the walled city.
Then it was time to pack up for the last time.