Taganga, Four Loko and the Kindness of Strangers

Sunday we’re catching an 11:00am bus to Taganga, a small fishing village just outside Santa Marta.  What I’ve come to understand about all forms of transportation here is that you really just can’t expect to have any idea when or what´s going on.  Around noon a van arrives – we aren’t really sure whether it’s a shuttle or the bus, but we pile in, bags on our laps.  After a couple confusing stops where people get on and off and back on again our bus is finally off.  Somehow, they must take all this funny business into account, because despite multiple random roadside stops, we arrive at the expected time.

Our hostel, Casa de Felipe, is a really cool little place with a laid back vibe and a rooftop deck with a beautiful view of the bay where we lay in hammocks waiting out the rain storm.  Once the rain has subsided, we make the short walk into town to get dinner, only to find that the only ATM in town doesn’t work.  We figure we’ll just eat at the French restaurant in the hostel, which I’ve heard is pretty good.  As we walk back it begins to pour.  When we get up to the bar to order, we find that they won’t take a credit card and we can’t add the tab to the bill.  I’m pretty unhappy about the prospect of going without dinner since I’ve only had two granola bars all day, but we can’t get pesos.  Just as I’m about to give up, the two Aussie girls we met on the shuttle from Cartagena must hear my demons and offer to spot us the money.  In exchange, I give them American dollars and we introduce them to Four Loko.  They are about 18 and on a six-month adventure around the world during their gap year before University.  The more folks like this I meet, the more I regret having missed the opportunity to do it myself.  Soon we find ourselves on a roof top in a small town in South America, drinking Four Loko and debating the origin of barbecue.  

Tomorrow we leave for a four-day trek in the jungle.

Johanna