Lost in a little fishing town

For some reason we just cant leave any place that we get to. Most recently I had found myself stuck unable to leave the most comfortable and welcoming little fishing town named Taganga. Our original plan was to visit Santa Marta the neighboring big city. We had heard that the best thing to do is stay in Taganga and catch the bus to Santa Marta. I think I ended up spending a total of two hours in Santa Marta.

We stayed at the hostal Casa de Felipe. The workers were all women about my age who spent their time cleaning up, teasing the guests and learning everyones names. I quickly fell in love with them.

Our first night we got put in the best room with a private kitchen and bathroom and no bunkbeds, thank God. We shared our room with four very cool and laid back guys Giddy from New Zealand, Shane from Australian, Sebastiane from Sweden and Andy from the US. We had a balcony that overlooked the overwhelming landscape of Taganga. Taganga is a little bay surrounded my little mountains so the water is incredibly calm. From our balcony you could see it all looking down on the little town and seeing every movement of the sun.

The people of Taganga are incredibly welcoming with the biggest smiles youve ever seen. Everyone was eager to talk to you and share whatever they and you had to share and the majority did not even ask for money. I quickly made friends with the local vendors and a local musician Pipe that would share his new lyrics with me each day.

My first day Andy, Sebastiane and I headed over to the beach Playa Grande. The front beach is tiny since most of the shore is taken over by restuarants and boats. There are two ways to get to Playa Grande. You can take a boat for $2000 pesos equivelant to a little under $1.00 or you take take a small 15 min hike over one peak and down the other side to the beach. I opted for the hike everytime.

You walk through the main street where you make all your greetings to your newly aquainted friends and head up the edge of a mini mountain that lines the bay. On the way there are a few off trails to a smaller beach where the fisherman fish with a very large net that they pull in several times throughout the day. When you reach the peak and turning point to the downward slope you turn around. The view of Taganga is breathtaking as if you are flying over the little town looking down from the outside at the little goings on.

The otherside is just as breathtaking as you gaze down at the crystal water of Playa Grande. Though it is a packed beach full of friends and families I never once felt out of place. The beach is lined with restuarants and there seems to only be about four little huts there so everythings shuts down at 5pm for the day. The first day there I met my new travel partner, Rocio.

Rocio is from spain and was traveling with her boyfriend though he headed of to Venezuela now. We instantly hit is off. She had been waiting for a friend who could speak spanish since the majority of her trip had been spent speaking english with the other travels. Her personality is one of the few that can compete with the loudness that Mere and I tend to create.

We held a little party in our room that night that carried on through jok telling, age guessing and getting to know you games. Out parents would be proud. The next morning however we all woke up bright and early to begin our ''culture day.'' We loaded on a little buseta to Santa Marta where we got a another bus to take us to Aracataca, the birth place of Garbriel Garcia Marquez. At the little town of Aracataca about 1 hour away.

The little town of Aractaca I found out gets about one or two groups of gringo visitors a month. We were welcomed in by every single resident there. I am now and official member of the local library. A couple of the younger kids ended of spending the day with us as we toured around the little town tasting the arepas and seeing the wonderful little world where Gabriel Garcia Marquez grew up.

We made our way back to Santa Marta after everyone was thoroughly cultured out. On the bus back however we were in for another little cultural surprise. Sitting on the bus Mere and I were on one side of the isle and our friend John was on the other. Every bus has a driver and a guy who basically keeps the passangers in order and takes the money. Mere and I paid and John handed the guy 20,000 pesos (the ride is 5,000) The guy took it and handed John the change then hesitated and told John he would not have enough change for everyone so he handed John a 20 and John gave him back the 15 he had recieved as change. We instantly noticed that it was a different 20,000 bill and rather torn up. A passenger near by informed us that the bill itself was actually a fake bill.

I have deducted at this point that the guy had probably recieved the bill earlier learned the error of his ways and thought that John would be the perfect person to pawn it off too. I dont think he expected us to catch on so soon. So the next 20 minutes of the bus ride was spent with John and the help of Rocio and Marcello trying to argue with the guy to get Johns money back.

We ended up stopping on the way back and they deboarded and spoke to a group of soldiers on the road who deamed John the winner and the guy reluctantly gave John a better 20.

The next day was another early morning where I left extra early to go explore Parque Tayrona. I was planning on spending the day there and returning that night. Everyone else was going to spend the night out there so they left later then me and met me out there. The hike in was beautiful and the beaches themselves were spectactular. The water however was very violent and you couldnt do much but stand and let the water knock you around. I returned that night and was glad I did becuase I got sick later that night.

I decided it was dehydration becuase my other roomates had gone through the exact same thing. I recovered by the next day and spent the next few days making the hike to Playa Grande with my book, my towel and my water.

Many of the group returned that following day from Parque Tayrona minus Mere and two other traveling friends. They ended up staying two more nights. While Mere was off exploring the wild lands of Parque Tayrona, *which you should check her blog about that cause I dont have much, I spent my las three days becoming a part of a wonderful family.

I met this family becuase the kids would sell jewelry at the hostal at night. They welcomed me in there home and I spent almost every meal with them after that. It was an incredible experience. The mother Monica is from Argentina, she moved to Colombia about 25 years before to be with her husband who she is no longer with. She lives in Taganga with her 5 children, Cielogui 24 who just returned shortly befor from his mandatory service in the military, Carlos 18, Lucas 16, Yumanlli 13 and the only daughter Tayira 9 who never once took of her skates.

They welcomed in so graciously I felt instantly comfortable. It was so nice since I have been away from my family for so long. Cielgui taught me how to make some different kinds of bracelets and I have been practicing. One day we went to a smaller beach closer than Playa Grande where the fisherman fish and I got to help them pull the net into the shore. It was a lot of fun.

Eventually everyone turned up from Parque Tayrona and we began to plan our next moves. Mere was to head of to a smaller town nearby and Rocio and I were heading to Medellín. Our plan was to meet back up in Medellín but as I have learned everything can change at any minute.