As Summer 2016 Big Trip comes to its end it's bittersweet. I've had the best of all kinds of worlds this time around. Student travel, recharge solo time and sharing it with an incredible partner. The last time I spoke this much Spanish continuously was Central America 2007. As an extra bonus this year, I didn't spend 50+ hours flying and mostly hung out in one area. THAT is a recipe for a happy girl.
My traveling has changed a lot since my first Big Trip when I was 17. 4 countries in 10 days was exhausting as hell but now I no longer feel like "it's once in a lifetime." Cartagena will always be there. As will Buenos Aires as will Cape Town as will fill-in-the-blank. And if I never get back to these places it's because I went to see something new and that's pretty damn fabulous too. So with that, I stayed in Cartagena for 8 days and in Manzanillo (a beach town 20 minutes out) for 4. Most people stay in Cartagena for a two days, three at most. Four is unheard of. It's so small after all. But after a while when you no longer stare at a map to go where you need to go, you start to feel like you know the place. No matter how small the clues, there is something about running into the same people, walking by the same shop and having a place that serves your favorite agua panela that makes a trip a special one.
Once Pete got here, I got to play tour guide for a few days before we took off to the beach. There are many beaches around town as well as tiny islands nestled between the waves of the Caribbean Sea.
We are going to Manzanillo!!! We said to anyone who'd ask.
You mean Isla de Rosario?
We are going to Manzanillo!!!
You mean Playa Blanca?
After a few days, we started getting worried. We spent virtually no time researching the beaches and found a random hotel we could afford with water and AC. That was pretty much our requirement and now everyone we told about our destination was dumbfounded. Why, oh, why would anyone go to Manzanillo?!
Yep, we were definitely worried. Until we got there.
You go to Manzanillo because no one else does.
To call this Afro-Colombian village deserted would be quite an understatement but only when talking bout tourists. Yes, 600 people live there, about 100 families. The few houses and shacks a couple of feet off the beach make up the neighborhood. The local tienda sells the necessities, men sit around in plastic chairs discussing the day's goings. Women sit in their own circles in the shade with babies bopping on laps and little kids running around. This is what small town life looks like. There is nowhere to go and nothing to do. The sun is scorching, skinny dogs roam the area and at times, they get to chase the pigs in the middle of the street.
We stand out like sore thumb. I have no idea how the locals feel about the few hotels on the beach and the a handful of tourists it brings (especially the ones that look like us) but I'd be damned if I didn't attempt to make a convo with every single one.
Our hotel had no other guests the entire time we were there. The breakfast was included but we had to tell the cook if we wanted lunch or dinner. If not, she got to go home. After all, there was no one else to feed.
Rookie mistake: "Oh no, we don't need dinner, we'll eat in town." Damn, there is so much assumption in that sentence. That there is a restaurant. That it's open. That they have food. We quickly realized that in our Good Samaritan spirit of giving the night off to the cook we had nowhere to eat. As we bought an apple and a pear at the store the lady told us "if you don't eat at your hotel you don't eat." Undeterred we found a local garage that had some tasty rice to serve. The cook was all out of meat and asked the lady next door for a chunk. You better believe we had a phenomenal dinner!
This story repeated itself several times throughout the stay as we let the cook go home and scrounged around town for a meal. The hunt became a task we were happy to complete.
We were told ahead of time that the weekend is when *everyone* comes to town and it really gets boom boom boom. If ten Panamanians descending on Manzanillo is crazy then this town knows how to do it right. On Saturday, as promised, people showed up and all of the sudden we had activities to choose from! There was one kayak, one banana boat and one jet ski.
As we giggled at our selection we so loved the days we spent here. Our biggest concern was whether breakfast will be practically spoon fed to us at 9 or 9:30 am. Whether I'll read this book or that one. Shall I nap in a hammock or a chair. Yes, this place is ridiculous. Ridiculously relaxing if you can just turn it all off, listen to the waves and breathe.
So ends my Summer 2016 Big Trip. For the first time since I started blogging/journaling/whatever this is, someone I don't personally know read it. Exciting times! I didn't pay them either.
In the next couple of weeks I get to celebrate my birthday in the US for the first time as long as I can remember, see my parents, pick up a super sweet and toothless kid (what would travel look like without Skype?! It probably wouldn't!), teach him Spanish and get my own apartment back from my AirBnB girl who is holding down the fort. Adelante!
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