before. After we got out of bed and collected our things to move into the larger shared
room. We ran into a few fellow travelers from the night before in the courtyard. A few
Englishman had joined in on the conversation and spoke about a place called Isla
Grande with claims of it "being the greatest thing he's ever done in his life" the promises
of bioluminescent bays, cock fights, and recluse were enough to convince us to change
our plans and spend the next night on the island. The hype machine really got started
as others from the hostel jumped onboard for the excursión. However in best efforts not
to let the cart go before the horse we had one more day in lovely Cartagena. Our
newest addition to the group, George, joined us on a trip about town. First at the
recommended restaurant in the square near the hotel and then off to Castillo de San
Felipe perched up on a hill just outside of the walled city.
Mozying about in the heat of Colombia is no small task. Sweating is basically the norm but a local surely wouldn't be seen in anything but long pants. We got a first hand look at the locals in their jobs as we took a wonderful detour to the mall. Wally, George, and Rich needed their respective
fixes from McDonalds (Keylime Pie McFlurrys!!) Now is when the entire trajectory of our
trip changes. We were yearning to learn more about the deep rich culture of Cartagena
and had been told a tour guide would meet us at the Clock Tower in town. There we
were 4 guys waiting for a free tour when 2 Brits recognized us and decided to wait with
us. Shortly after a blue haired Brit who lived in Sydney came by assuming Corey was
leading the tour because of his red shirt. As we tried to piece together the fragments of
information we knew about this tour we became less certain that we were getting the
tour we were waiting for. When we finally realized it was a lost cause we decided to do
a tour of our own. Mostly in search of the famed bar "El Balcon". As we wandered the
streets asking for El Balcon we were assured many times that it was just around the
corner. Along our walk a fellow American, Chris, who served in the Army heard our
English, with a very excited "Y'all Americans??" he joined the crew. We ran into John
the fixer again and he pointed us directly to the yellow building down the block but alas
nothing. At this point we had the three of us leading a total of 8 people through the
sweltering streets of Cartegena for more than two hours in a search of a bar!!! Just as
we were about to give up and have drinks in a square we were able to connect to a wifi
and got directions! The Bar was located on the complete opposite side of the city back
near our hostel. Baffled by the over confidence of nearly every Colombian we strolled
the streets and grabbed an Ice pop at a place called La Palletteria which held us over
until our arrival at the bar. Thankfully it was exactly what we were expecting. A fun
themed bar with a balcony over looking the square at the locals below.
As we caught up and learned more about each other everyone now was hearing about or planned trip to Isla Grande. Not wanting to miss out the rest of the group booked the same hostel for
the next night. Another scenic sunset atop the wall gave us the opportunity to catch up
even more and have a few cold Aguilas before having dinner out in the square. As
expected a freestyling Colombian duo came to our table with their boom box. Having felt
that the only true way to repay them was to repay them with our rendition of Nelly's Ride
Wit Me (this song would become a theme for our trip). As we got more excited for the
night we couldn't have been more happy to rush back to the hostel for our Dance
lessons. We were hoping to brush up on our salsa skills but the bachata was the dance
of the night. It started out quite easy but as the dance progressed became quite difficult.
If there's one take away its that its all in the hips! The only true way to repay the
instructor for his generosity was to teach him a few dance crazes taking over the USA.
Mainly the chicken bop, king crab, jumbo elephant, and stanky leg. Feeling pretty good
about our warm up we wanted to charge ahead and show off our skills at the famed
Cafe Havana where live music and authentic salsa filled the bar and we brought a little
extra flare to the dance floor. Unsure if Chris, the American solider, would make it home
after being unable to communicate where his hotel was we had very little confidence
that he'd make it to meet us the next day at the clock tower.
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