Our time in South America
was quickly drawing to a close. We had two days left in Colombia, and then we
are off to Venezuela Caracas and Simon Bolivar international airport to start
our journey back to South Africa.
But before we leave we need to collect a parcel that was posted to us ten days earlier from the USA.
Friday afternoon I find the post office only to be told it has not arrived and I should head to dispatch.
On foot with vague directions I'm off to find dispatch, before closing time.
With the clock tuning away I find dispatch and chat to the man in charge. Going through the tracking process I find out it’s not in Cartagena and will only arrive Monday morning 6am we depart Sunday 7am. No good now what?
No worries says man in charge the parcel is in Santa Marta three hour bus ride from here I can collect from there tomorrow before 1.
Panic sets in my mind starts working over time, I dawdle back to the boat, what to do? What to do?
By the time I have walked across town and paddled our kayak back to the boat I have decided the only thing to do is go find this parcel tomorrow.
The bus terminal or rather "Terminal de Transported" is 12 km away. I had been there a few days earlier and it had taken me just over 2 hours to walk.
At 4am the next morning, Saturday I leave the boat paddle to the main land and start my mission.
My budget was enough for return ticket and a cab ride.
My plan of action, take first bus to Santa Marta find parcel take last bus home.
Remembering our bus leaves at 8am tomorrow for Venezuela.
Being on a boat of any size it’s hard to stay walking fit and after the last few days of walking already my body was not very impressed, lucky it was still del and cool and I reached the terminal just on 6am an caught the first bus out arriving in Santa Marta at 09h30. It was time to get going.
In my confused state the day before I never got the address of the dispatch office. I had however 5 addresses and hoped one was the right one.
I closed my eyes picked an address found a taxi and off. No worries I have 3 hours.
The first address was wrong but the kind assistant googled my tracking number and gave me the correct one.
Awesome still on time. With half directions I'm off up the road, left here right there ..... Or was it?
Ahhh no worries see the sign. Shoo! Made it.
It looks small for a dispatch haha its only for receiving, the dispatch of course is the other side of town and its 11h30, next joke! The office closes at 12.
I only have cash left for the by ride home!!!!
So close yet so far.
No worries I'll make a plan, sigh!
Just then a courier from the post office arrives to collect.
A short chat in my broken Spanish and my bus ride money in his hand and off we go to dispatch.
Up until this point u sort if knew were in town I was in conjunction with the "Terminal de transported"
Remember I need to get home before dark the last bus and now I need to walk to the station.
The Colombian Michael Schumacher took off and by the third turn down a back road I was lost.
Arriving at dispatch in the industrial area of town the doors were closed. I knock on the front door it was locked no answer.
I've just gambled everything to get here and now?
I chase around the back of the building and find an open door. Haha
No one is leaving until I get my parcel.
Vacant stares follow my every move as I explain in a mixture of Spanish, English and 'funnigalo' with a few threatening Zulu words thrown in for effect.
Realizing no one was going home until this crazy gringo leaves, a sparkle of activities insures and a number of staff disappear to different corners.
A few moments later a parcel appears, I hand over my passport as proof of identification.
"Ah Sud Afrik??
Yes no gringo I reply.
The room breaks out in laughter, I'm no gringo I'm OK I'm cool I'm an African.
5 minutes later after strong words of caution about the dangers of this particular area I'm outside parcel in backpack ready to go home.
Home? Point! Hmmm!
You know those silly comedies like " Dude where is my car"? That very lost stoner look?
Well here I was in the industrial area of Santa Marta, my tablet, the only form of Map and communication I have is off as the battery is low, and "Dude I'm lost"
I have no idea where I am and all I know is in what direction south is.
The last bit of my battery allowed me to check Google maps, showed me where I am and where the terminal is. I got to street numbers; this was where I was heading.
Well this is easy I'll head east counting the street numbers backward until I reach Calle 15, sweet I'm on Called 27.
Woohoo what a pro I chuckle to myself, off I go with a bounce in my step, down the main road I'm on, I'll take the next left.
26; 25; 29 I stop, look, reverse back to the last road 25, no other roads? No. Carry on 29, no worries check the next road. 32 hmmm.
I scratch my head a little perplexed. "No worries" I say. Time is short, I'll hook a right here, jog down to the next intersection ill pick up the numbers again.
One intersection two intersection third intersection hmm! I hang right, no I'm moving the wrong way I take next left - I am so lost
A note on being lost -
Personally I don't mind being lost, I have spent many of my journeys to a destination lost. But today time is not on my side and when working with time there is no time to be lost.
Doing as any good guide would do in my situation; I keep going hoping to spot something I recognize.
You will remember earlier I gave my bus money to the courier driver, so what's my stress if I can't get home anyway? You may be asking?
Well in the parcel is a laptop and in the laptop are some US dollars.
I was aware of this and out I desperation I spent my cash in the belief that there would be enough in the laptop.
So while I'm jogging through the myriad of streets looking for a landmark I come across a double lane road. Now for someone lost in the wilderness this would be like finding a river.
Time to reassess my position and change my USD into CoP (Colombian peso)
In Colombia there is no black market (well there is but you need to know the know) being in the industrial area there are no banks no bureau de change or bureau de cambia.
I stop a taxi and ask if he will accept USD. No no he says shaking his head I keep moving and come across a casino an restaurant, "cambia deniro" I ask showing the USD. No no he says. In my broken Spanish I understand he is directing me to a money exchange. I take a jog up the road in the direction he is pointing. Two blocks later I come across an Exito, a chain store like picknpay in SA or Wall Mart, Colombian style. They have a money exchange.
That was easy.
Western union is closed for lunch but there is another one, cool I stand in line.
At the counter the pretty lady shakes her head "no cambia" Western union.
No!! I cry slipping into a chair they are closed for lunch my bus departs 2:30pm lunch finishes at 2.
OK no time to loose, where am I where is the terminal de transporte?
I find a plug point plug in my tablet; I have enough time to check my location on Google maps, 2.5kms to the terminal, OK! Guess I'm going to have to run this; I have less than an hour.
No problem I've done more than that in an hour.
Unplug the tablet put it away and move through the exito for the last time.
A quick glance over to Western Union I see a guy sitting behind the counter eating.
I slide over and politely say "Buenos dios¿ cambia deniro? USD" he looks up smiles and replies "no problem how much you want?" I reel back in surprise, really! Blah blah my whole story comes spilling out. With a smile he hands me the CoP and wishes me well.
With a chuffed spring in my step I saunter out the shop through the car park to the road, I hail a taxi climb in and off to the terminal de transporte.
Thank heavens I didn't run, I remember thinking as we were pulling into the terminal.
I jog into chaos, weaving through the masses. I get to my ticket office, "uno ticket Cartagena por vafour." The lady behind the counter looks at me looks at the deniro I'm holding out, looks at me and then starts. What she said I have no idea.
The next thing a gentleman takes me by the shoulder directs me through the gate onto the bus and to a seat, the money still in my hand.
Looking around a little confused I relax take my cap off and smile, click.... I look up the driver has just taken my picture. I rub my eyes sigh and smile again. In on the bus I have made it.
Before I have started to formulate the last part of my journey we are pulling out the terminal- time2:15.
Would I have made it had I have run?
A taxi from our boat to the terminal de transporte costs 18000 to 25000 CoP again depending on what you know. Catch a motorbike can cost 10 to 18000 CoP again depending on what you know. The public bud from the terminal to the castle which is fifteen minutes walk from our anchorage costs 1 USD.
I arrive in Cartagena as the sun was falling, caught the bus to the castle and had enough money to buy 4 beers and a chocolate for Joshua. Chocolate in Colombia costs more than a gram of cocaine.
Tonight is our last night in Colombia and we are having dinner and drinks with our good friend and skipper of sailing yacht Star stream Mr Larry
What a great evening, what a great end to an epic sail and a testing journey.
To sit on a boat we had sat on in Grenada drinking rum and now drinking the same rum on the same boat with the same Mr Larry was a great honour and a nice end to our sailing adventure.
At sunrise we overland all the way back to where we started from, I had a lump in my throat and emptiness in my stomach.
But before we leave we need to collect a parcel that was posted to us ten days earlier from the USA.
Friday afternoon I find the post office only to be told it has not arrived and I should head to dispatch.
On foot with vague directions I'm off to find dispatch, before closing time.
With the clock tuning away I find dispatch and chat to the man in charge. Going through the tracking process I find out it’s not in Cartagena and will only arrive Monday morning 6am we depart Sunday 7am. No good now what?
No worries says man in charge the parcel is in Santa Marta three hour bus ride from here I can collect from there tomorrow before 1.
Panic sets in my mind starts working over time, I dawdle back to the boat, what to do? What to do?
By the time I have walked across town and paddled our kayak back to the boat I have decided the only thing to do is go find this parcel tomorrow.
The bus terminal or rather "Terminal de Transported" is 12 km away. I had been there a few days earlier and it had taken me just over 2 hours to walk.
At 4am the next morning, Saturday I leave the boat paddle to the main land and start my mission.
My budget was enough for return ticket and a cab ride.
My plan of action, take first bus to Santa Marta find parcel take last bus home.
Remembering our bus leaves at 8am tomorrow for Venezuela.
Being on a boat of any size it’s hard to stay walking fit and after the last few days of walking already my body was not very impressed, lucky it was still del and cool and I reached the terminal just on 6am an caught the first bus out arriving in Santa Marta at 09h30. It was time to get going.
In my confused state the day before I never got the address of the dispatch office. I had however 5 addresses and hoped one was the right one.
I closed my eyes picked an address found a taxi and off. No worries I have 3 hours.
The first address was wrong but the kind assistant googled my tracking number and gave me the correct one.
Awesome still on time. With half directions I'm off up the road, left here right there ..... Or was it?
Ahhh no worries see the sign. Shoo! Made it.
It looks small for a dispatch haha its only for receiving, the dispatch of course is the other side of town and its 11h30, next joke! The office closes at 12.
I only have cash left for the by ride home!!!!
So close yet so far.
No worries I'll make a plan, sigh!
Just then a courier from the post office arrives to collect.
A short chat in my broken Spanish and my bus ride money in his hand and off we go to dispatch.
Up until this point u sort if knew were in town I was in conjunction with the "Terminal de transported"
Remember I need to get home before dark the last bus and now I need to walk to the station.
The Colombian Michael Schumacher took off and by the third turn down a back road I was lost.
Arriving at dispatch in the industrial area of town the doors were closed. I knock on the front door it was locked no answer.
I've just gambled everything to get here and now?
I chase around the back of the building and find an open door. Haha
No one is leaving until I get my parcel.
Vacant stares follow my every move as I explain in a mixture of Spanish, English and 'funnigalo' with a few threatening Zulu words thrown in for effect.
Realizing no one was going home until this crazy gringo leaves, a sparkle of activities insures and a number of staff disappear to different corners.
A few moments later a parcel appears, I hand over my passport as proof of identification.
"Ah Sud Afrik??
Yes no gringo I reply.
The room breaks out in laughter, I'm no gringo I'm OK I'm cool I'm an African.
5 minutes later after strong words of caution about the dangers of this particular area I'm outside parcel in backpack ready to go home.
Home? Point! Hmmm!
You know those silly comedies like " Dude where is my car"? That very lost stoner look?
Well here I was in the industrial area of Santa Marta, my tablet, the only form of Map and communication I have is off as the battery is low, and "Dude I'm lost"
I have no idea where I am and all I know is in what direction south is.
The last bit of my battery allowed me to check Google maps, showed me where I am and where the terminal is. I got to street numbers; this was where I was heading.
Well this is easy I'll head east counting the street numbers backward until I reach Calle 15, sweet I'm on Called 27.
Woohoo what a pro I chuckle to myself, off I go with a bounce in my step, down the main road I'm on, I'll take the next left.
26; 25; 29 I stop, look, reverse back to the last road 25, no other roads? No. Carry on 29, no worries check the next road. 32 hmmm.
I scratch my head a little perplexed. "No worries" I say. Time is short, I'll hook a right here, jog down to the next intersection ill pick up the numbers again.
One intersection two intersection third intersection hmm! I hang right, no I'm moving the wrong way I take next left - I am so lost
A note on being lost -
Personally I don't mind being lost, I have spent many of my journeys to a destination lost. But today time is not on my side and when working with time there is no time to be lost.
Doing as any good guide would do in my situation; I keep going hoping to spot something I recognize.
You will remember earlier I gave my bus money to the courier driver, so what's my stress if I can't get home anyway? You may be asking?
Well in the parcel is a laptop and in the laptop are some US dollars.
I was aware of this and out I desperation I spent my cash in the belief that there would be enough in the laptop.
So while I'm jogging through the myriad of streets looking for a landmark I come across a double lane road. Now for someone lost in the wilderness this would be like finding a river.
Time to reassess my position and change my USD into CoP (Colombian peso)
In Colombia there is no black market (well there is but you need to know the know) being in the industrial area there are no banks no bureau de change or bureau de cambia.
I stop a taxi and ask if he will accept USD. No no he says shaking his head I keep moving and come across a casino an restaurant, "cambia deniro" I ask showing the USD. No no he says. In my broken Spanish I understand he is directing me to a money exchange. I take a jog up the road in the direction he is pointing. Two blocks later I come across an Exito, a chain store like picknpay in SA or Wall Mart, Colombian style. They have a money exchange.
That was easy.
Western union is closed for lunch but there is another one, cool I stand in line.
At the counter the pretty lady shakes her head "no cambia" Western union.
No!! I cry slipping into a chair they are closed for lunch my bus departs 2:30pm lunch finishes at 2.
OK no time to loose, where am I where is the terminal de transporte?
I find a plug point plug in my tablet; I have enough time to check my location on Google maps, 2.5kms to the terminal, OK! Guess I'm going to have to run this; I have less than an hour.
No problem I've done more than that in an hour.
Unplug the tablet put it away and move through the exito for the last time.
A quick glance over to Western Union I see a guy sitting behind the counter eating.
I slide over and politely say "Buenos dios¿ cambia deniro? USD" he looks up smiles and replies "no problem how much you want?" I reel back in surprise, really! Blah blah my whole story comes spilling out. With a smile he hands me the CoP and wishes me well.
With a chuffed spring in my step I saunter out the shop through the car park to the road, I hail a taxi climb in and off to the terminal de transporte.
Thank heavens I didn't run, I remember thinking as we were pulling into the terminal.
I jog into chaos, weaving through the masses. I get to my ticket office, "uno ticket Cartagena por vafour." The lady behind the counter looks at me looks at the deniro I'm holding out, looks at me and then starts. What she said I have no idea.
The next thing a gentleman takes me by the shoulder directs me through the gate onto the bus and to a seat, the money still in my hand.
Looking around a little confused I relax take my cap off and smile, click.... I look up the driver has just taken my picture. I rub my eyes sigh and smile again. In on the bus I have made it.
Before I have started to formulate the last part of my journey we are pulling out the terminal- time2:15.
Would I have made it had I have run?
A taxi from our boat to the terminal de transporte costs 18000 to 25000 CoP again depending on what you know. Catch a motorbike can cost 10 to 18000 CoP again depending on what you know. The public bud from the terminal to the castle which is fifteen minutes walk from our anchorage costs 1 USD.
I arrive in Cartagena as the sun was falling, caught the bus to the castle and had enough money to buy 4 beers and a chocolate for Joshua. Chocolate in Colombia costs more than a gram of cocaine.
Tonight is our last night in Colombia and we are having dinner and drinks with our good friend and skipper of sailing yacht Star stream Mr Larry
What a great evening, what a great end to an epic sail and a testing journey.
To sit on a boat we had sat on in Grenada drinking rum and now drinking the same rum on the same boat with the same Mr Larry was a great honour and a nice end to our sailing adventure.
At sunrise we overland all the way back to where we started from, I had a lump in my throat and emptiness in my stomach.
Baz
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