Back to Third World Status: Isla Margarita

We are staying in a decent B&B on the island of Isla Margarita, Venezuela, but warnings from locals about muggings, kidnappings and so forth have put a damper on our usually carefree attitude for this portion of our trip.  Add intermittent rain, overcast conditions, a view from the balcony that is not very picturesque, a very hard bed, and making our own breakfast (with food set out each morning), and I am glad we aren’t staying here as long as previously planned.  Additionally, the view from the eating area balcony (the best place for WiFi reception) is of a very poor neighborhood where the homes across the street seem run down and in need of repair.  Intermittently, Latin music (which I usually like) is coming from a car parked in the driveway across the street, but with too heavy a base that causes a vibration in our chests. Luckily, the view from our room is of a sheltered pool and patio area which is very pleasant when it isn’t raining.  Last night, when we set out in search of food, we discovered that the walk to the beach was much farther than we expected or was advertised (about a half a mile) along poorly lit roads that had limited sidewalks that are in need of repair. Thank you Peter (my son) for the flashlight!!. 

As I sit on the balcony writing this blog, the wind has picked up, and it is raining hard again.  We hope this passes soon so that we can get out and walk around and see what else we can find that will brighten our mood.  First impressions are not always what they seem.  But perhaps I am just growing tired of third world conditions where I constantly have to remember that all toilet paper has to be disposed of in waste baskets instead of being flushed and sanitation seems less important in this part of the world.  Somehow I didn’t mind all this in Costa Rica.  We were closer to a beautiful beach, I knew where to have a good meal and we had a car that sheltered us from the dusty roads.

We’ve been told that VZ leader Hugo Chavez is not interested in bolstering tourism, so he doesn’t care about repairing sidewalks or roads. This is unfortunate for the people on the island who depend upon tourism. Some are trying to decide what to do if Chavez is re-elected again.  Currently, all the cruise ships with tourists that once made frequent visits do not come here anymore, and direct flights from the United States have stopped.   Like Costa Rica, car rentals and car ownership is expensive.  However, it costs only about a US dollar to fill up an SUV, due to the very low price of gas.  One bright spot last night was that we did find a restaurant where I had a fantastic grilled, whole red snapper, and Michael had a very tasty spaghetti carbonara and the 9 oz beers were at giveaway prices. I even took a chance and ate a salad without any ill effects.  Our B&B hosts at Casa Trudel couldn’t be nicer.  Dan is originally from Canada, but has lived here on the island for 25 years, and his wife is a friendly and generous Venezuelan.  Hopefully, future impressions of this part of our trip will only get better as the weather improves and we have more time to explore what Margarita has to offer.  In the meantime, do not sell our home no matter what we say in the ransom notes!!   

Downtime in Bogota

January 20, 2012

We are off to Caracas and Isla Margarita tomorrow.  Here in Bogota we have had a few days of intermittent rain and temperatures in the low 60’s, so going to warmer weather and returning to sea level will be a welcome change.  It seems to rain every afternoon here, and today it rained hard and brought thunder, lightning, and pea- size hail stones. Because begin our walks with the sun shining, we are always caught off guard.  The first time this happened, a couple days ago, we had to hail a taxi for the short 4 block ride back to the apartment. So today, I prepared and packed an umbrella and a poncho. The weather again was not threatening rain, so Michael declined to bring his extra provisions.  But about an hour into our walk, we had to run for cover along with the rest of the visitors in Candelaria.  Fortunately for me, we waited in a shopping area where there were multiple stalls, all selling something slightly different and appealing.  I even had an opportunity to watch a woman from Ecuador crochet a Mochila purse. Michael got to practice his Spanish, talking with shopkeepers when words failed me and I needed to ask questions or find out what things cost.  

When the rain lightened a little, and Michael’s patience for shopping ran out, I decided he should wear the poncho, and I would use the umbrella so that we could manage the trip back without getting too soaked. We had to dodge fast moving, river-like streams rushing down the narrow streets which became steadily more crowded by slow moving taxis and motorcycles. Also, we had to compete with people crowding the sidewalks with their umbrellas, and watch out for those running for shelter.  

We have enjoyed our time sampling what “Old Town” Bogota has to offer. We have eaten and enjoyed typical Colombian food, gone to museums, and stopped in a few souvenir shops.  But mostly, we feel grateful to have had the opportunity to get to know and hang out with our new Colombian friends, whom we hope will come visit us in Los Angeles one day. And even thought the weather has not been perfect, and I did suffer a little altitude sickness one day, we have taken the time to catch up on some needed rest that short term travelers often put off in deference to fit in more sight-seeing.  To us it is more like living a normal life, not pressured to pack a lot of activity into every single day.

We will be cutting our stay a few days short on Isla Margarita to return home briefly on January 26^th for a celebration of life luncheon for Michael’s mother, Donna, who, on January 8^th, at eighty-seven, peacefully died in her sleep with her daughters by her side.  This was not totally unexpected because she had not been well for many months.  However, she would intermittently have good days, which made us all hopeful that somehow she could live forever.  Sadly for us, we had planned this trip long before her health status changed so dramatically.  It was not without some conflicting feelings that we left on December 19^thknowing we may never see her again. 

Yet, as we left, we hoped somehow she would just continue to live with only intermittent problems and would still be there upon our return.  At least now she is at peace, and her health challenges are at an end.  Donna was a wonderful, loving, and thoughtful woman who had many friends. She was an unselfish and devoted mother to four, grandmother to eleven, and great-grandmother to eight.  She will be missed by all those who loved her and spent time with her during her long life. We feel that this change in plans will be an important opportunity to share the memories of her life with the people whom she loved. 

On the night of January 30^th we will leave LA on another flight, returning to Caracas to

continue our onward journey to Argentina. Our brief return home will also give us the added opportunity to leave souvenirs and unnecessary items, which will lighten our load. This is something travelers on a six month journey seldom get to do. For those of you who have followed us thus far, we hope you will continue to follow us as we travel south once again.

Bogota: Day Two

January 15, 2012

Even though we try to have a modest, weight neutral diet, we seem to be eating our way through this massive city, fattening up for future Botero portraits.  On our first day, after a brief moment to settle into the loft, we set out in search of something to eat.  It was 3 pm, and we had eaten nothing since breakfast in Cartagena.  Since Heidi (the apt manager) was going our direction, she pointed out several points of interest and led us to the grocery store for provisions.  Along the way the largest and most delicious tasting potato chips grabbed our attention.  Several windows held the promise of a midday meal with empanadas, cheese buns and several sweet concoctions.  We settled on a traditional, small restaurant that seemed to be frequented by locals.  The menu was difficult to read, so we trusted the waiter’s suggestion and ordered a local beef dish to share. It was a large slice of grilled beef served with a small salad and rice-- very delicious.  We were too full to try the typical hot chocolate plate that we saw being served with a wedge of cheese, two slices of buttered grilled bread and a cheese bun.  In the center of the plate is a steaming cup of hot chocolate garnished with some kind of cheese.  Cheese in hot chocolate sounds awful, but being open minded (and curious) perhaps we will try this interesting snack another day. 

On Sunday, we were invited by a Colombian family to join them and their friends for a trip to the Bogota Countryside.  We had been introduced to this family (through e-mail) by way of an apparent fourth cousin of mine whose sister-in-law (Connie) is our contact here.  We felt honored to be included and happy to see some of the rest of Bogota.  Our day started at 10 am with Connie and her oldest daughter picking us up by cab.  They explained that they disliked driving in the city, and the streets of La Candelaria are just too confusing for them to navigate.  Since I had expressed an interest in stopping briefly at a flea market, this was our first stop.  Usaquen is a small suburb where there are a few trendy shops and many restaurants.  Every Sunday there is also a flea market that sells local goods.  Like our Hermosa Art Fair, there were numerous artists who had set up booths to sell their products.  There were also beautiful fruit stands and one food booth selling paella and sautéed mushrooms, each out of different large paella pans.  It all looked and smelled so delicious.  One vendor had miniature cupcakes, and another had delicious looking pastries, all covered in my favorite things-- fruit and whipped cream.  It was fun to sample a few things, buy a couple of items, and get acquainted with our new friends, while in the background, the out of place Chuck Berry could be heard singing, “Roll Over Beethoven.”

Our host then grabbed us another taxi, and about 20 minutes further out of town we met up with Connie’s husband, friends, and her other daughter.  They were all waiting for us on a street in two separate cars.  Then there was a stop at an ATM, a gas station, and we were on our way.  I felt fortunate to share the backseat with two young women who enjoyed the opportunity to practice their English while Michael sat in front practicing Spanish with Connie’s husband, Florentino.    We drove for about an hour and saw many interesting things along the way.  The countryside has many open spaces, interrupted only by rolling hills and mountains.  There were several old and new homes, occasional farm and small towns.  This whole day unfolded without our hosts explaining any of the plans.  We were just happy to be on an adventure and enjoying a lot of laughter over the mixture of communication (Spanglish) that developed.  Michael and I soon discovered that our hosts were taking us to a restaurant that came highly recommended, but was also new to them. The barn- like structure probably accommodated no more than 100 people, seated outside and inside, at long wood tables and benches.  Old beer bottles hung from the walls, wine bottles served as candle holders, and plastic cups placed at the top of the candle kept the flame from being blown out.  I briefly wondered why the plastic didn’t melt from the flame.   It was just beginning to get crowded as the nine of us claimed a long bench located inside.  We asked our hosts to order and soon were tasting appetizers of fresh grilled sausages, potatoes, corn cakes, and plantains.  This was filling enough, but then came the main dishes of steaks that were at least 4 inches thick, barbequed ribs and more potatoes.  Everything was so delicious that we all walked out quite full and had enough left over for future meals. 

Next we were taken to a famous store run by the Alpina Dairy.   It took forever to get parking, as the lot was larger and more crowded than Costco on a Saturday afternoon. They even had police attempting to keep the traffic moving.  We soon discovered that this was not a restaurant, but a gigantic grocery store with a park- like lawn where people enjoyed the Alpina dairy products they bought.  I was overwhelmed by the variety of cheeses, yogurts, ice creams, and dozens of delicious looking pastries, all on shelves waiting to be selected and purchased.  Even though we were all still full, our friends insisted we have chocolate dipped ice cream cones, and I purchased a selection of other delights for future consumption. We were then off again, down another country road, and back to the city and one last stop at a Colombian favorite, none other than “Juan Valdez”.  Like Starbucks, Juan Valdez specializes in coffees, and there are many such shops scattered around the city.  We arrived back at our loft after 7 pm; far too full, but happy to have some wonderful new friends.   On Wednesday, along with their friends, we have been invited to have dinner at Connie and Florentino’s apartment.  We probably don’t need to eat again until then!!  Perhaps, in the meantime, we should climb Monserrate? 

Bogota: Day One
January 14, 2012

We landed in a very green and mountainous Bogota (8,500ft above sea level) on Saturday morning. The weather is much like Manhattan Beach, with temperatures ranging from the 60’s-70’s.  It is a wonderful change from the hot and humid Cartagena. We had been warned multiple times that certain areas of Bogota can be dangerous. And various Colombians gave us conflicting information.  Some said we would be fine, and others worried for our safety and warned us, “Just don’t look like tourists and you should be fine.”  We decided to be brave and take a chance. Since our residence for the week is in the middle of the “dangerous area” called La Candelaria, or “The Old Town”, I wasn’t certain what to expect.  However, I’d read that most of the interesting sites were within walking distance of the loft we had rented, and that during the day we should be fine. Securing a taxi is easy and inexpensive in Colombia. You go to the taxi counter, tell them where you want to go, and they hand you a printed document that has a set price.

After about a half hour drive through mostly city traffic we arrived in the old city.  Unlike Cartagena, the old part of Bogota is not quite as pristine and well preserved.  We had several e-mail confirmations that our host (Heidi) would meet us in front of the building to hand us the keys.  We found the building but Heidi was nowhere to be found.  The confused cab driver was at a loss as how to help us. He didn’t have a cell phone so we had no way to contact anyone. To add to the tension, the day suddenly became gray and overcast with a light occasional drizzle, and our living quarters appeared to be in a very seedy part of town.  In place of a gray metal door that we were looking for was an old plywood covering decorated with graffiti.  I was afraid to let the cab driver leave us “looking like tourists” standing, with our bags, on a nearly deserted sidewalk in this strange and potentially dangerous city. 

Multiple possibilities of what “could happen” to us began to swirl in my brain. I kept checking my printed instructions to make sure we were in the right place, at the correct address.  Nearby was a booth where, like in our mini-markets, many things are sold.  The owner seemed very concerned that we were possibly lost and confirmed that the address was correct with the paper I had in hand.  But he didn’t have a cell phone either.  At this point, another interesting character entered the scene and began to size up our situation.   His skin had a dark, weathered appearance, that of someone who has seen too many days and nights in the elements out on the street. His clothes were old and dirty, and his uncombed hair was wildly unmanaged by the cap on his head. His smile was marred by several missing front teeth, and the poor fellow appeared to be blind in one eye. He kept one eye on us as he circled around us and began pushing buttons near the door of the apartment.

Next came along a customer from the “mini-market” who carried a briefcase and enjoyed the crunch of his newly purchased apple.  In rapid Spanish, he attempted to assist us.   Much to my dismay, Michael was flustered by the circumstances and was having difficulty understanding anyone.  It would have been funny except for the potential danger this posed.  During this time, I am franticly trying to look up a possible hotel on my Kindle, while keeping one eye on the one- eyed homeless man who took an interest in us.  At one point he stepped into the street and threw tiny stones at the windows in an effort to get someone at the loft to come to our aid. This action melted my fear and made me smile.  Of all the people involved, he was the most concerned and eager to solve the problem.  But it was the very chatty and nice “customer”(a social worker no less) that loaned us his cell phone to call Heidi, and in approximately 20 minutes she appeared with the keys.  Like a scene from a movie the customer went on his way, the homeless man went back to his seat near the market, the taxi driver was long gone, and the shopkeeper went back to helping customers, and the stage was reset for other dramas to begin.

Heidi explained that the woman she had put in charge of meeting us had to leave when we did not arrive at the appointed time.  Sadly, this woman had just gotten word that her ten year old nephew had just died of leukemia.   So far, our apartment seems wonderful and very well located. We are one block from the Botero Museum, a beautifully restored colonial mansion where his intriguing chubby paintings and sculptures are housed.  Just a few more blocks down the hill is Plaza de Bolivar, reminiscent of Venice’s St. Mark’s square but much larger. This is the main square, where government buildings and the presidential residence is located.  And no South American square would be without the requisite Catholic church.  The one located here is a gigantic 19^th century cathedral. Filling the square on Saturday was a large collection of pigeons and hundreds of visitors.  The street was lively and lined with vendors, some selling sweets, others selling salty fried snacks with the most delicious potato chips I have ever tasted.  

Our flat is noisy, with the sounds of the city, but quiets down after a certain hour in the evening when the foot and street traffic diminishes. It is only the occasional beep-beep heard as cars race through the intersection that interrupts our sleep. Out of our window we have a fantastic view of Monserrate sitting atop a nearby ten thousand foot mountain, and at night it is colorfully illuminated.  There, I have read, the whole city can be viewed.  There is so much to do and see in Bogota, and this will be one of our planned excursions.  In spite of everything, we feel safe here, not bothered by the altitude, and eager to have more adventures.

Cartagena by Day

January 11th

Unlike the crowded, bustling night life, by day, Cartagena sizzles, and not in a good way.  It is hot and humid!  Due to our late night carousing, we are often out in that heat just as it peaks!   A typical day begins with us applying the cologne of the day, “Toilette de Off”, to keep the mosquitos from attacking us when we leave the safety of our room.  I have discovered that there is a dense jungle- like forest next to our hotel that is no doubt their breeding ground.  We have our breakfast in a little dining area near the pool (open to the jungle), and here is where we are often attacked.  We only seem to be bothered by these tiny elements of torture here at our hotel.  As much as I would like to spend time on our balcony and open the room to the cool night air, I don’t dare. The vampires live out there!

Wednesday, in the midday heat (of course), we took another tour bus packed to the rafters with tourists.  We were the last to squeeze on and had to sit in different rows.  I was lucky enough to sit with three beautiful and sweet young ladies who happened to be from a place near Bogota.  They spoke a little English and were unusually polite, inquisitive and conversational for their young ages. Immediately they welcomed me, asked my name, introduced themselves, and tried to keep me engaged in conversation.  Even though we didn’t speak the same language, they were able to bridge that gap and helped me understand their questions.  The ten year old asked questions typical of a child her age who would engage someone else. She asked things like how old I was, when my birthday was, and so forth.  Then, when we stopped to see certain sites, she followed me around.  Their father wanted me to pose with them for several pictures and I complimented him on his wonderful daughters.  We exchanged e-mail information, and the ten year old asked if I’d become Facebook friends.  Young or old, we are finding that Columbians are wonderful people. 

Another crazy thing we do in the heat is walk the narrow streets next to buildings that absorb the heat that radiates back into our path. But the shops are compelling and it is interesting to see the typical Columbian products sold here.  Many of the stores sell Mochila bags made of natural fiber wool or more recently, heavy colorful cotton thread woven into beautiful designs. I read that these are made by a dwindling population of Columbian Wayuu Indian tribes found mostly in La Guajira. These bags are worn by both sexes and take one woman 60-100 hours or more to make. Due to their scarcity and growing world-wide popularity, the prices are quite high. Depending upon the design, fiber used, and size, they range in price between forty-five dollars to several hundreds of dollars.  I am forever searching for just the right size, color and reasonable price range.  Needless to say I am still searching! 

Another Columbian commodity is an emerald that is found here. Many stores sell this beautiful gem. For safety reasons, I was cautioned to leave my rings at home. But we feel very safe in our walled enclosure, and a simple, inexpensive silver ring caught my eye and begged to be worn on my empty finger.  Since our suitcases are small and filled to the brim, we are limited in the number of things we can comfortably carry home.  In Panama, I picked up a few colorful Molas made by the Kuna Indians of the San Blas Islands.  These cloth pictures are made by layering many different colored cloth pieces, which are then sewn to represent Aztec designs or pictures of indigenous animals, birds or fish. I hope to make pillow covers with mine. I am waiting for Bogota to select a Mochila.  I feel that it is important to support the local culture by purchasing things that will remind me of the places we’ve been. If you Google these items you will see why I wish I could bring more of these Mochila’s and Molas home.

We are becoming more comfortable trying the Columbian street food and so far our digestive system is fine. We have discovered that there are many ways to cook plantains. The ones here are bland and starchy tasting, and we don’t like them that much. Corn meal is used to make delicious fried empanadas that are stuffed with various fillings. Several fruit carts sell fresh, ripe fruit. There are many small bakeries selling flakey pastries filled with melted cheese and ham or other fillings. They are simply delicious.  On every street there are several restaurants that sell pizza, ceviche, or tasty fish dishes. Rice and beans are always served on the side.  Last night we ate in a small cafeteria inside a large grocery store. We have even had a few mid-day picnics in the middle of our bed with food we bought at the grocery store-- a way to escape the afternoon heat.

Today we found the best way to escape the heat of the day is to go to a beach on a nearby island called Baru. It is a 45 minute speedboat ride away and well worth the trip. Along the way Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off eight of the most beautiful 25-26 year old Argentinean beauties who sat with us.  They were all former school classmates who have kept in touch by meeting weekly and going on trips together. They gave us a lot of pointers for what to see and do in Argentina. This was their third trip the island, so they suggested we join them on the beach away from the crowds. 

The beach, Playa Blanca, is aptly named with beautiful white sand the consistency of flour. The water is a beautiful green-blue with the most perfect, refreshing temperature! However, the downside of being in paradise is fending off a constant parade of vendors who bug you to buy something in 3-4 minute intervals. But in the water, they leave you alone!  Included in the trip is a typical Columbian fried fish lunch, which Michael loved so much he cleaned it to the bone! Every day by 4 pm the wind picks up around here.  It is a wonderful relief if you are in the city, but get in a speedboat and endure the 45 minutes of terror as the boat literally flies back over the waves--not fun!  After one 3-4 second launch into the air and pounding return to the sea, a fellow passenger looked around and asked: “Are all the babies still here?” I worried that with the abuse the boat was taking, it might break in half.  The girls from Argentina were used to the ride and egged the driver on by putting their hands in the air as if going down the slope of a rollercoaster!  This was a white knuckle experience for me and not one I would ever like to repeat!  Michael, on the other hand, can’t wait to get to Argentina!!

Cartagena at night

January 9, 2012

One way to enjoy this city is to take what is called a Chiva Bus.  This is basically a bus with open sides and rows of bench seats to accommodate many people.  Unlike a typical tour, this one is at night and includes alcohol.  Being new to this concept, but quite open minded, we hopped aboard the bus with new friends from Brazil that we met at our hotel. Setting a festive tone was a small Caribbean band that sat in the middle of us all and consisted of a bongo player, a guy with an accordion, and another man with a round metal instrument that looked like a cheese grater that is stroked with a metal stick.  Much singing, clapping and hands in the air added to the fun.  Everyone showed their musical appreciation with encouragement from our host and tour guide.   

Along the way I noticed several metal cup holders attached at the back of every seat. They were of different sizes and shapes, not the typical average cup holders.  This made me wonder what they would be used for, and it wasn’t long before my curiosity was satisfied.  One was just the perfect size and shape for the Pepsi bottle, the largest one for the bucket of ice, another for our small drinking cups and the triangular one, well that was for the bottle of rum given to each couple to share.  I began to ponder how the guy who thought up this business would have pitched it to his friends and backers.  I figured he was sitting around drinking a bit of rum and said:  “Hey guys (in Spanish of course) you know those open tourist buses, they sit idle at night.  Let’s rent 'em, put a bunch of tourists on 'em, give 'em a bit of alcohol, music, drive 'em around the city and take 'em to a couple of sites. They'll love it, and we will make a lot of money!!”

What a concept! And who wouldn’t love it!   We were a captive audience enjoying live music, Cuba Libras, and digging the whole vibe!  Then add seeing the city at night and add making a stop to dance on top of the city wall.  We all strutted our stuff as we followed the musicians, like pied pipers who led us all to an area overlooking the Caribbean, and danced by the light of the full moon in the cooling breeze from the sea.  We found a mix of many countries who successfully attempted communication in the best way possible-- through dance, the local language and with a splash of English, and even a hint of Portuguese. 

Also on the wall were vendors, of course. They are always early to the party and know how to communicate with the masses quite well.  Some sold food, beer, and water.  Others were more like entertainers dressed in Colombian costumes posing with us for  photo ops.  But the best and most interesting character was not human at all; it was a small, three toed sloth-pet that was given to anyone who wanted to hold such an unusual animal.  Of course I was an eager volunteer.  This was an amazing experience. It was like holding a clean, odorless stuffed animal that hugged me as I held it.  It took me several minutes to believe it was real. But it was alive, just with very “sloth like” movements.  Apparently these animals are found in Colombian jungles and make good pets because, unlike monkeys, they are so docile.

Next, the musicians led us back to the bus for more touring, drinking, and singing some familiar Spanish songs.  The last stop was a disco for an hour of dancing. Then, with our new found Brazilian friends, we went in search of a late night pizza.  Even with the language barrier, we communicated well with a mix of English, Spanish and sign language.  We found out that the Brazilian couples had just met on the bus and were nearly neighbors who coincidentally live only about 7 KM from each other near Sao Paolo.  All together we were two teachers, two doctors, and two lawyers, giving us a lot in common.  We talked well into the wee hours of the morning and were the last to leave the pizza restaurant.  As we walked the nearly deserted street to our hotel, it reminded us of the times at home when early morning revelers woke us as they walked down our walk-street. We had to stifle giggles and reminded ourselves to lower our voices.  It was a magical night to remember, one we hope others have an opportunity to experience when they visit this town.

Cartagena: The Old City

January 7, 2012

I am still wondering why we had to fly from Panama to Bogota to get a connection to Cartagena.  But some things, I’ve discovered, remain a mystery.  Until today we have consistently flown on TACA airlines.  Other than two fairly large Jets, we’ve been on mostly prop planes.  Today was a different story.  Today we flew on a Brazilian based airline called Avianca; sounds more like a fancy water, doesn’t it??  Avianca doesn’t have any class but economy.  However, the seats are plush, the leg room ample and they even have foot-rests and personal video monitors.  A little like Southwest, but better.   The Avianca personnel could not have been more helpful or courteous.  We had very little time between connections for our flight to Cartagena out of Bogota.  That meant going through customs, getting on a bus and getting to the correct gate all within about 20 minutes. Impossible, you think???  Not with Avianca.  Their guides met us as we got off the plane, ran us through a private custom service and we literally ran with them to the bus.  As we were running, personnel along the way kept yelling in Spanish run, run, run! I worried that Michael wouldn’t be able to keep up, but he said the altitude did not bother him, and running was easier than walking fast.  When it comes to shopping, he always runs out of breath or has chest pain!  But when he is late for something, or wants to eat, he is fine and outruns me! 

The walled city of Cartagena is a five dollar (tiny) Hyundai cab ride from the international airport along a beach not unlike LA’s Playa del Rey.  The city is indeed enclosed by an ancient wall that was built in the 1500’s.  Unlike Panama’s old city, Cartagena’s old city is completely restored and very much alive and lived in.  Cars park on one side of the narrow cobblestone streets, leaving only enough room for horse drawn carriages or the smallest of cars or cabs.  It reminds me of something between Barcelona, Venice and the downtown garment district of LA.  In 1987 “Old Town” was declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO.  With beautifully preserved and restored colonial-era mansions and churches, it is easy to understand the distinction.  Our hotel, Casa del Curato, is a small B&B built in the 1800’s with just eleven very small rooms.  Exposed stone facades and simulated brick floors add to the charm. Travel deeper into the hotel and there is a pool perhaps twice the size of the average American Jacuzzi.  But it too has some charm, with a waterfall, exposed rock walls on two sides open to the blue Cartagena sky.  I imagine it would be refreshing in the heat of a Columbian afternoon. 

As we waited to check into the hotel, I discovered that the Columbian mosquitos loved us!  The hotel lobby has windows open to the street that are only protected by wooden bars.  It wasn’t long before the cruel biters got word we were there for lunch and began to enjoy their feast.  The pain from the bites is quite impressive.  These guys are not playing around!!  I find if I keep moving, they leave me alone.  So I dragged Michael into the streets to investigate our surroundings and perhaps find a nice place to enjoy a meal.  In our wanderings we ended up in a large open square at the edge of one part of the city.  Here there are dozens of vendors selling nothing but traditional, local homemade candy, each booth carrying similar sweet treats.  This particular square is historically significant for having once been a place where 200,000 slaves were once traded and sold.  Today, only the tradition of selling sweets continues.   While sampling some of the delicious coconut candy, we were entertained by some local dancers putting on a show.  We also found out that there is a world renowned classical music festival in town this week with venues scattered throughout the walled city, and some are free to attend.  This accounts for the scarcity of hotel rooms and large crowds. 

Tonight we had a wonderfully delicious dinner in a restaurant named Patagonia, serving traditional Argentinean food.  Tango music filled the small space, begging for someone to take the floor.  If I had any clue how to Tango, I would have pushed the tables aside, grabbed a waiter and given it a try.  This makes the pull to visit Argentina and take tango lessons even more compelling!

It is easy to be charmed by this city with flowered covered balconies, pastel colored buildings, multiple churches and small, park-like town squares.  It is also easy to get lost wandering the narrow streets at night as we have done.  Colorful twinkling lights and old street lamps add an air of mystery.  Intermittently, music is heard coming from various pubs and street-side restaurants which entice you to go inside.  Each street and sidewalk is crowded with street vendors selling homemade fried concoctions, grilled garlic infused provolone cheese, and skewered meat cooked on homemade grills made of what appears to be former gallon sized cooking oil tins.  Adding to the congested sidewalks are people selling hats, art work, homemade jewelry and souvenirs.   It is a feast for all the senses, and we intend to sample as much as we can in the short week that we are here.

Melting Away in Panama

January 6, 2012

In Panama we are staying in a beautiful bed and breakfast named Casa 81, which has provided a much needed time to recharge our batteries and do some future planning for the rest of the trip.  Casa 81 is a modern, newly remodeled, six bedroom contemporary style home.  It is the last holdout of homes once located in the financial district and is dwarfed by many tall buildings.   Each morning we have breakfast on the nicely planted garden-patio in the company of a domestic tiger cat. We are always served plain yogurt, fruit, slivered almonds, biscotti and croissants by the maid who is here only in the morning to serve breakfast and clean the rooms.  Our hostess is a Panamanian woman who spent much of her adulthood in the United States raising her three children who were educated and still live in the U.S. 

Unless you are interested in seeing the canal, walking in the heat along the causeway, going to Casco Viejo (the old city), or going to nightclubs and casinos, there really isn’t much to do here.  Progress in Panama seems to have been halted by the downturn in the economy.  It is as though construction was interrupted one day years ago and the workers never returned to complete the job.  Our first day started with an attempt to walk toward the waterfront in the height of the mid-day heat and humidity that was easily above 90 degrees.  After about three blocks, we sought refuge in a frozen yogurt place.  Then we walked for a few more blocks and decided to go to the top of the Rui hotel to get the lay of the land.  Since most of the interesting things seemed to be far away, and it was time for a something to eat, we agreed to find an air-conditioned restaurant. 

Anxious to get out of the heat, Michael suggested that the one block away, KFC was local enough, but I was not persuaded and steered him in the direction of something far more international 3-4 blocks away.  We settled on a nearly deserted place where the beer was ice cold and shared a pleasant meal that included a large mixed salad, white fish in an almond sauce and fried plantains.  There was a big screen TV showing a “football” match that was actually quite interesting to watch.  To me, soccer makes more sense than American football, but it puts Michael to sleep.  He is focused on games that score points, but I find soccer much easier to understand.  With soccer, the players are fit, very handsome, and far more fun to watch! 

Yesterday, we went to the old city.  Originally established in the 1500’s and a former port along the water, it is a city in the midst of change.  Much of the original city was nearly destroyed by a gold plundering pirate named Henry Morgan and his army. Perhaps they were possibly fueled by rum?  The gold altar in the Church of San Jose was saved by a thoughtful priest who, when he heard of the impending invasion, covered the altar in tar.  You will see by the picture included that it was a brilliant decision.   The city was fairly quiet other than handful of tourists who seemed to be outnumbered by cars and construction workers.  Several old buildings appear to be abandoned while others are in the middle of reconstruction. The ones that have been refurbished are stunning. There are multiple squares with very old churches and three to four story New Orleans-like multi-purpose dwellings that have interesting street level shops and restaurants.  Apparently several of the bars become quite lively in the late evening.  We had a wonderful lunch in a small restaurant that sold organic salads and sandwiches.  

Today we got up rather early in search of a few Panamanian birds that are reported to hang out in a park on the edge of the city.  We figured we would get up when the birds do and avoid the mid-day heat, but we were wrong on both accounts.  The steep path went deep into the humid jungle, and while we could hear many different calls from birds, we saw none of them.  At the end of the path was a slimy pond that held too many to count algae covered box turtles. Just one bird showed up for a brief picture and rested momentarily on a branch over the pond.  I had expected to be wowed by dozens of birds putting on a show.  Perhaps I have been to too many zoos.  In reality, their home is high in the canopy of various trees away from prying eyes.  We are finally getting into the local groove of afternoon siesta and dining after the heat of the day. This evening we will attempt to find a restaurant recommended by our hostess, and then tomorrow we have an 11:00 flight for Cartagena.  We will be staying in a small boutique hotel that is within the old walled city. It is advertised to have many flower filled balconies and a view of the sea.  We look forward to staying in a place where, like Disneyland, most of the restaurants and entertainment will be found within the safe ancient walls, and along the cobblestone streets. Beyond the walls, we’ve been told, is a city not unlike Miami, a place we will most likely avoid!

On Our Way to Panama City:

 January 3, 2012

Today we leave the dust and beautiful warm waters of Playa Guiones behind along with my daughter, her wonderful partner, Chandy, and all our new friends.  I was just getting into the groove and becoming accustomed to the dust and laid back atmosphere!  I never worried about what I wore, or how clean my hair or body was for that matter. Washed by the ocean or a shower, not much difference I soon realized.  When you are in the ocean many times a day, why shower??  All one needs is a couple of bathing suits, a sarong and a cool dress to change into for dinner.  No fashion icons here!!  Although, in town, you can go to Desi, who makes the most adorable sexy, low back long dresses. Then to Jennifer who has the only fancy jewelry store that sells her beautifully creative designs.  Next, stop in the bathing suit store where you can have one made to fit your body perfectly. Then there is Nina, who is a wedding planner, formerly from Bogota, who is so busy she is currently booked through April.  Near the jewelry store is Robin’s, a wonderful homemade ice cream and sandwich hangout.  The food there is so fresh and good that the lines are long much of the time and pretty, but sneaky, blue and white birds position themselves on nearby branches to snatch some of the homemade bread as soon as it is left unprotected.  Then there is the Tica Massage place where I had two soothing massages.

So many wonderful things are in the surrounding area of Guiones.   One day we took a little excursion with a wonderful family that we met at our hotel.  We were on a quest to find “The Pink Shell Beach” that was purported to have many beautiful large shells.  Following directions from our host at the hotel is not that easy.  It reminded me of the directions I might have given to visitors in the small rural area where I once lived on the Eastern Shore of Maryland.  “Go about 2 miles, make a left at the street with the biggest elm tree, go past the yellow house and turn right, then continue on until you come to the river, the house is on the left, you can’t miss it!”  With no real signs marking the way and every dusty road looking like the last, it is difficult to figure out if you were on the correct path or not.  “Go down the road for about 20km, and then you will go over a hill (there were several) then take the next right.”  The path, and that is all it was, hardly wide enough for a car, wove in and out of the jungle.  While it was beautiful, it was a challenge to keep the car in one piece as we traversed many large ruts and holes.  But at the end of the road we found a beautiful beach. 

The water was azure blue and picturesque, but alas, no shells to speak of.  However, what we did find was the “Swiss Family Robinson!”   Approximately 100 yard back from the water stood a two story open structure inhabited by a couple and their daughter who are originally from New York.  Michael observed Mr. “Robinson” cutting open a coconut and thought he had stumbled upon a restaurant.  But as it turned out, it was the family home where they have been coming a couple times a year for more than 17 years.  Sadly, it was to be their last year there because the government was taking over the home due to the regulations in existence prohibiting any construction closer than 500 yards from the beach.   Bill White (Mr. Robinson) and his family were very welcoming and informative.  We were given fresh oranges to sample along with coconut and mango juice.  It wasn’t long before we were hearing stories of their visits to this unusual home and forgot all about how we had struck out on finding shells.  What we found was far more interesting and will leave a lasting impression on us.  Yes, it is true, Tom and Mary Malone, you do find wonderful people wherever you go and when you least expect it!

To add to the jungle experience, we were treated to a very close up and nearly personal view of an adorable group of howler monkeys that inhabit the trees behind my daughter Page’s home.  So while relaxing on the side patio, we heard howlers in the trees nearby and then one at a time they traversed the trees and gathered in the tree limbs of her backyard.  Howlers of all ages and sizes munched on leaves and put on quite a show that I never wanted to end!  I was amazed that these wild relatives would come so close, but then I realized that actually Page is just a guest in their home! 

As we leave Playa Guiones, I am sad to leave my daughter, the warm water and the residents of her backyard.   Yet I know we will be back in April and in months to come in 2012.  The biggest Christmas present I was given this year is that Page and Chandy are expecting a monkey of their own August 22, 2012!  I am guarded and won’t count the grandchild before it hatches.  So much can happen in the early months of pregnancy.  But since I had given up any thoughts of a grandchild from my independent daughter, this is quite a wonderful gift!  See you next time in Panama City!