So, after fulsome promises to blog with conviction once I left Guatemala, I have instead fallen into a severe rut in which I have not felt like blogging at all. And so, I haven't.
La Cieba, Honduras left me a moderate depressive (I'll probably get around to explaining why here, soon) so that I decided not to go out to the Bay Islands to dive like I'd planned. Instead, I came directly south to Tegucigalpa, then Managua, then San Jose, then Panama City. I spent several days in Costa Rica's national Marian shrine, in Cartago near San Jose, which I will blog these coming few days. I have good pictures, and the place was impressive. I'll gloss everything I've done, mostly by posting some of my backlog of photos. That's both easier, and I think more interesting than writing and reading a blow by blow of my travels.
In any case, last week I took a sailboat to Columbia. If you were not aware, there is no road from Panama to Columbia, the isthmus is blocked by a jungle called the Darien Gap that is home to FARC communist insurgents, drug smugglers, and other thuggish types best avoided. The passage took five days, and it was exceptional. I shall blog that, too..
See how glibly I promise. I'm not much in the mood to write, even now. But I ought to, just to feel virtuous.
Tonight however, I'll just tell you that I am in Santa Marta, Columbia. I was in the extremely beautiful colonial gem Cartegena for five days after debarking, and spent far too much - 45$ - Like a cheap American motel price, for a nice room in Getsemani, one of the historic parts of Cartegena, a room that in the States would cost probably at least three times what I paid. 45$ for a crappy motel stateside would have me feeling frugal and disciplined, but that price here made me feel bovine and used. This afternoon I hopped the bus here, where I suppose I'll go diving if feel so inspired tomorrow. If I don't, I'll just hop another bus to Maricaibo or Caracas. I figure I need go pay Hugo his respects, perhaps sooner than later.
Anyway, I got nickel and dimed stupidly by the cabby from the bus station to the hostel tonight. He asked for 10k pesos - about 5 bucks, again maybe half what I would have paid in the states for the 3km ride - when I asked at the hostel what the going rate is, they told me 5k. So I was left feeling absurdly gypped over 2.5$.. Until they quoted me 35$ for a single room here, putting that in perspective. I took it, because I am in no mood to sleep in the dorm, nor look for another hotel where I may not even get a better deal.
I'm kevetching about all this because until Panama I never paid more than 20$ a night down here. One of the great charms of traveling Latin America has been sleeping and eating well on less than 30$ a day, which is rather significantly less than it costs me merely to live in a damn apartment and eat groceries and all that back home.
Anyhow, I'm sitting at the bar at the hostel here, surrounded by people speaking English - lots of Australians mate d- and being ignored by the bar tender. Like what the crap. You know. What the crap. There's a horned bull skull on the wall opposite, creeping me out. There's absurd alternative music playing, damn kids these days think it's still 1988. Have REM sold out? I still don't care. Like whatevah.
I shouldn't be here.
From here on down, I am am avoiding these gringo infestations. Puede llamarme Carlitos del Barrio.
I'd post a picture, but I got nothin on the pad. Tomorrow. Maybe.
Well, gee, I'm cranky. Time to go to bed.
(autre chose: aujourd'hui c'est le fete de chere ste. therese. prie pour nous tous therese. I'm beginning a novena, tonight, time to get down, you know..)
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Location:14th Street,Santa Marta,Colombia
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