Sunday, December 12, 2010
Updates
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Turbo to Paradiso (Capurgana)
Back at the port, a jostling elbow fight for the back row seats as hawkers selling any and everything, gafas, peliculas, musica, perritos, bolsas, musica, gafas... The funniest being the bald guy with a cute puppy. But we managed to get ourselves some good seats, and secured our bags with a plastic trash bag to ensure a dry arrival.
Our boat was the Deep Blue, and we were happy to find that it was covered to keep us out of direct sun for the whole trip, but we were surprised at the number of people they fit on the raft, with about 35 people squeezing on board with bags before gunning the engines and after a quick stop at the port authorities, we were off, southwest across the bay and then up the coast to the Panamanian border.
Upon our arrival, a heavy presence of police and bag searches were the final hurdle before being met by the son of our host Dona Mery, the son Being Enrique, an eager and bright eyed young go getter, who loaded up the cart while telling us his life story and rounding up tow others to come and stay at the Cabinas Darius with us. There is only one moto in Capurgana and we didn't see it until the day we left a week later. Other than that it is horses and carts like this:
After arriving and quickly showering, it was down to the beach to stick our toes into the Caribbean and admire the paradise we had found.
Matty's thoughts on vacation:
Sunset at Turbo
Cartagena to Turbo
View Larger Map
For those of you thinking of traveling by road, either on your own, or via bus, there are a couple of additional facts you should probably know. Before we left, we had triangulated facts on the mission, it was confirmed to us that there was a direct bus that left about 6 times per day to Turbo from the Cartagena bus terminal (which happens to be 45-1hr outside of town). We were told the price would be COP 50,000, and that the road was safe – night or day. This is from the nice and very pregnant woman who runs the front desk at the Hostal Real, whose birthday it also happened to be while we were staying there, and whose parrot subsequently tried to bite my eye out (succeeding only in plucking a few stray eye lashes), so I guess we should have known.
They always say when you hear bad news, get a second opinion, while in this case, it sounded too good to be true, so I asked around. Local police and Colombians told me it was always better to take the bus during the day, and that while they had not heard of any problems on that route, they did not recommend traveling at night. No one had actually done the trip before, but we decided to take the 10-hour, 5:30am direct bus that would ensure us to arrive during the daylight into Turbo which also has a bad reputation for being a dangerous town, but which was also the only access point to the towns we were seeking up the coast.
Whizzing though wide open cow fields with large shade providing trees and various types of cattle from the thin arching shoulders of the milk cows to the broad sleek coats for the beef cuts. Dozed off to a bumpy but necessary sleep, waking up only twice, once as my head ricocheted off the glass as we went over some thin bumps encouraging drivers to slow down, and another for a much needed bathroom break and refill on the essentials, this time, refreshing coca-cola, two cold beers and another liter of water.
It was just after passing the factory where they produce RoundUp to use in fumigation efforts in the region that we pulled up to the isolated bus terminal of Monteria, there, still slightly blurry from sleep, we were surprised to find that it was already 12:30, too close for comfort to the 1pm cutoff time we had been informed of when we boarded in Cartagena. Securing 2 seats on the “direct” bus to Turbo on the well-reputed line of Gomez Hernandez, Matty grabbed us seats as I watched the bags get put underneath the bus, and made sure they stayed there. Upon boarding the Red and Gold Striped bus, with flashy lettering proclaiming to all that Gomez Hernandez was the proud banner under which it flies, I had an inkling that this would be a different experience than our fairly comfortable if not a bit long, initial journey. Of course, if I had bothered to look at my map or at google maps, I would have realized that the road to Turbo via Arboletes was not paved, nor had work been done on it since several years before. In hindsight, a bit more research might have helped us to avoid the next 6 hours of our lives, during which many a vision would pass before our eyes, and multiple lives we would be put at constant risk.
It was not until after we stopped in Arboletes for a pit stop where we utilized some local public facilities and procured ourselves some cold beverages to wet our unquenched thirst. I also found what I am sure is to be the new health food craze across the world, ad one that made Matty squirm in his seat, good old fashioned mayonnaise flavored potato chips! Just look at his face of unabashed joy!
Our bus and the commercial strip of Arboletes, the beginning of the perilous final stage.
It being Thanksgiving, this woman was, no doubt in honor of el Dia de Accion de Gracias, transporting an enormous live gobbler onboard what most would usually call a chicken bus, but perhaps a turkey bus for the day.
Based on this shot, you would think it was jus a normal bus, which it was, it was the driver, his assistant and the condition of the roads that combined to make this particular stretch so daunting.
