When driving the Panamerican highway, many overlanders plan in a year. With us, it takes a tad bit longer- try three years longer- and that’s only halfway, and we’re not including Canada and Alaska either! Yes, the pandemic sure did slow us down, but once the height of it was over, we realised, this slower pace of travelling actually might suit us… and with a huge and cheap country like Colombia ahead of us, we had a sneaky suspicion, things were not going to speed up anytime soon.
Its diverse terrain full of unique wonders to capture, colourful pueblos to discover, countless unpaved roads to endeavour and utterly curious and hospitable people to encounter had us, you guessed it, renewing our visas and maximising the time allowed to spend in this enchanting first country of South America. And what better way to start than in Cartagena, perhaps one of the most charming cities of them all!
We had flown into the 13km colonial stone-walled city situated on the Caribbean coast to wait for Silverskin, our home on wheels to arrive. We’d left him at the port in Colon, Panama, in the hope that he’d soon arrive safely after his voyage around the impassable Darien gap.
Some travellers wait weeks, some even months but for us, it was only 8 days. And in 8 days we had a lot to see and do.
Our Airbnb was situated deep in the heart of the old town. On a clear blue sunny Sunday morning, we shut our lobby doors, shouted “Hasta Luego” to our concierge and stepped out onto the cobbled streets of Cartagena de Indias.
Just strolling passed the French-style villas, draped in brightly coloured bloom, peeking through the window panes of the chic fashion boutiques or dropping by at one of the many gourmet cafés or restaurants is enough pastime in itself to keep one entertained in this city. But Cartagena offers so much more with the ‘queens’ of the Caribbean coast selling their fruits in their vibrant and lively costumes, the rappers accompanying you in your steps with their ghetto blasters and unique street performances, and the sloths and monkeys having their turn at joining in on the act at the city’s Central Park.
Then there is the history. The preserved colonial churches and plazas, the city walls, and the Spanish fort. Castillo de San Felipe de Barajas is the greatest fortress ever to be built by the Spaniards in any of their colonies and was one we made sure to visit.
We took on this huge bastion with German travellers, Alex, Jochan and their sons Paul and Emil, who we had actually met back in Mexico, in the Chiapas jungle. Back then, almost 16 months ago, going in completely opposite directions, we never imagined seeing each other again. And certainly not in Colombia, but through word of mouth and because their huge ‘Steyer’ Truck also happened to be sailing with its American cousin, Silverskin, here we were sightseeing, crawling the underground tunnels, reenacting the story of Rapunzel and shooting a few imaginary cannons together. This castle was very cleverly constructed on top of the 40m high San Làzaro hill, with only failed attempts on record of ever being taken or destroyed during its 366 years.
Time for a beer I’d say! When with Germans, drink like Germans! And going to a German restaurant seemed like the obvious thing to do. In fact during our Cartagena stay we did a lot of eating out, more because our tribe was all in town, hanging around, each waiting for their vehicles to arrive, some in containers, some Roll on/Roll off. Some we knew already (Gatogoesglobal), some we’d met at the overland Embassy in Panama, (Rob and Dieke and Rodney and Heather from ‘White Troopy’) and some for the first time, those with an interesting story to tell, like William and Karen who organise specialised overland trips in their converted Mercedes truck.
Food in Cartagena was good! Juicy steaks were had, bratwursts and strudel, Spanish tapas and some good old traditional Colombian arepas. Food stands lingered at every street corner with meats such as smoky sausage reeling us in.
But unlike the rest of the country, this enthralling city came at a cost, and it was time to seek accommodation further afield. Even the gates of Getsemani (the striking residential town full of murals and where all the backpackers go), wasn’t cheap enough for us. We’d spent a lot of our hard-earned cash, and our swanky Airbnb was going to break the bank. So to the other side of the sky bridge it was.
Our taxi ride may have been a little disconcerting when the driver suddenly asked why we were staying in this particular suburb- but we were pleased to have arrived in real Colombia. The streets were vibrating with the loud music pumping out of its households and the plaza was thriving with joyful, active children. There was a community spirit here and we were soaking it all in. And as far as safety goes? Perhaps after dark, you wouldn’t feel too comfortable taking that evening stroll but the same rules applied as if in Mexico, and this neighbourhood welcomed us with open arms. In actual fact, it was on the afternoon of this 2nd Airbnb arrival, when we got news that we could go and collect our truck camper, so we had no choice but to park it outside, out on the street. And we were very thrilled to announce that after four days parked in this supposedly dangerous suburb; no damage was done!
Amazed to get that call from Ana Rodriguez, our shipping agent, and even more so of her door-to-door service, Richie hopped into her car, drove to the port and did the necessary paperwork in order to release Silverskin. After just 8 days, we were reunited, everything was still intact, with just a missing umbrella to report. Not bad going I’d say!
Three weeks of Airbnbs and we were definitely ready to climb back into our home, that’s what overlanding is all about, right? And, boy, were we about to embark on a proper four-wheel Colombian adventure!
Thanks for reading and we’ll ‘meat’ you guys around the world!
