The morning before my late afternoon flight back to Bogota, I took the local bus for the 15 minute ride to nearby Taganga, what was once a remote fishing village now turned “gringo haven” for backpackers and SCUBA diving enthusiasts. I had considered staying here instead of Santa Marta, but had to make the choice between the national park and diving, as I was simply running out of time. Continue reading
I awoke very early to run errands and get all my stuff together for what I hoped would be an overnight visit to Parque Tayrona. According to the Lonely Planet, there was food available in the park, but I figured I had better take some provisions, just in case. Being Sunday morning, there wasn´t much to choose from except salchichas (vienna sausages) and mixed nuts and raisins from the minimart. Continue reading
Another nice bus ride with a window seat from Cartagena to Santa Marta through Barranquilla, where I met three nice backpacking girls in the bus station, fresh out of college from San Diego, all fluent in Spanish. I traded them the cost of a cab ride from the bus station to the Centro in exchange for their translating skills. At a buck per person, they thought the taxi was too expensive and were planning to take the bus. Given my challenge of navigational Spanish, I definitely got the best end of the deal. Continue reading
The most popular day trip out of Cartagena is an hour away by boat to the island of Playa Blanca…emphasis on “most popular!” It was a mob scene with what had to be 300 people crowded at the dock waiting for their number to be called, herded through the loading pen and wedged into the small boats so tightly there was no chance of hitting a wave and bouncing out. Continue reading
The Colombian Quarter — not to be confused with the French Quarter…well, it could, actually. If Colombia is a dangerous country, someone needs to tell all the tourists! The streets are packed! Cartagena is very much like New Orleans, only instead of the muddy Mississippi river, Continue reading
The mere mention of Medellin brings up images of Pablo Escobar’s infamous drug cartel hit men gunning down policemen in the streets and reigning king over the hillside barrios. I did lots of research before deciding to make this stop. Once considered the most dangerous city in the world, the murder rate dropped in 2009 to it’s lowest point in 30 years. Now on the incline again, I figured I had better go before the upswing trend continues! Besides, if it was safe enough for Anthony Bourdain, I figure it was safe enough for me. Continue reading
My plan for Colombia was to work my way overland toward the coast in order to see some of the country, then fly back, as it is a BIG country! What I thought was going to be an eight hour bus from Bogota to Medellin turned out to be eleven and a half! Continue reading
Follow along on my whirlwind tour through Colombia where the tourism slogan is “Colombia — The only risk is you won’t want to leave!”
At 60 degrees, foggy and a bit rainy, it is much colder in Bogota than I had anticipated due to the high elevation. I packed mostly for the tropics, which meant mostly summer clothes, so I spent the entire 3 days in the same warmer clothes from the plane ride. Continue reading
Shalom! Or shall I say “!שָׁלוֹם עֲלֵיכֶם” I have rented a laptop from the hotel, and it has taken me 18 minutes to figure out how to type on it in anything but Hebrew!
It was a long trip, as I had about a 12 hour layover in Barcelona, putting me into Tel Aviv at 4:00am, what seemed like the middle of the night as I had to bang on windows and doors to try to wake the hostel night watchman. I fell out like a zombie, awakening just in time so as not to miss my free breakfast! As many times as I have visited the Middle East, seems I will never get used to tomatoes, cucumbers, and feta cheese as breakfast fare.
Nothing cures a case of jet lag like a trip to the sunny beach. Tel Aviv looks very much like a European version of Miami Beach with one high rise after another, and lots of beach-side cafes and restaurants, color-coded umbrellas, kite surfing, wind sailing, and even a few sailboats. The wind is hellaciously high here, so the water is a bit rough beyond the breakers, but thankfully there are jetties spaced pretty close together which make for a pretty pleasurable swim in spite of the stiff breeze.
But first before my swim, I hopped the city bus bound for the old Arabic town of Jaffe. (No, not Gaza, Mom!) This incredibly scenic old town right on the waterfront overlooks a port full of old fishing boats and nets, bustling food and flea markets, and lots of interesting history, with it’s natural port in use reportedly all the way back to the Bronze Age.
Lonely Planet recommended a local restaurant as having the best hummus in all of Israel — I can’t speak for all of Israel, but it was certainly the best I had ever eaten!! It was “roll eyes back in the head” good! It sounds strange, but in addition to pita bread, they gave you big, sweet onion wedges to dip in the hummus like tortilla chips. MAN, was it good!
It is brutally hot here, more so than I expected, but also gets dark earlier, so twilight was my preferred time of day to swim in the beautiful Mediterranean sea. The water temperature, depth, and wave action were all just to my liking, and the perfect setting to watch the sunset while gently bobbing in the waves, as the crowds moved from the beach chairs to the candle-lit outdoor cafes along the water.
It is an interesting contrast to experience two areas of the city so different from each other, yet in plain sight of each other, only about 3 miles apart. Tel Aviv is all concrete and glass highrises, while Jaffe is old stone, mosque minarets, and looks more like an old fort jutting out toward the sea.
It was interesting to ponder this contrast while swimming in the ocean this eve, as I could see the old clock tower in the distance, just beyond the high rises. Then, you have to think what lies just a little further south than that….Gaza, where they are not even allowed concrete to build, or spices for their cooking. I couldn’t help but wonder what swimming was like along their beach. Hardly think it would be the same expensive ice cream shops, chaise lounges, and posh mirrored hotels reflecting back the sunset. It is an interesting study of contrasts in a country only the size of Vermont.
Ice cream obscurity, six bucks a scoop!
I am eager to get on to Jerusalem — as much as I love the ocean, I have never really been the “Miami Beach type!!”
During my visit to Cumberland Island National Park last year, I came upon a sight that stopped me cold in my tracks — a white deer. It was just after sunset as I was hiking through the ethereal windswept maritime forest up in the inner dunes on my way back out to the beach. Continue reading