In the morning we wandered up the street from our hotel in search of the Crepes and Waffles restaurant we'd spotted the day before. In our conversation, we walked passed it by a few blocks (which is very "Ugh"-inducing in the oppressive tropical heat). Doubling back, we were very confused to find it wasn't open until noon anyway, "Maybe waffles are a lunch thing here?" Eric wondered.
We went back to our hotel and had a very nice continental breakfast there even though they told us it was only served until 9:30 and we arrived around 10:30. "Remember, time is only a mere suggestion here" Eric reminded me. Indeed. The restaurant was a funky modern place, with artwork on the walls that reminded me of the cartoon art in the movie Osmosis Jones, except all the characters in the art were all very busy and important, rich, and living in Switzerland, apparently. We found them quite amusing. The dining room was clean and white with modern furniture and orange table clothes.
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| the funky art of Cartagena Millenium |
Today we checked-out the wall surrounding the city more closely. Such a beautiful sight! The buildings in Cartagena are so colorful! Blues and reds and yellows in all shades. In preparation for the tourist season which starts in a few weeks, repairing and painting was going on all over the city. The walls of the buildings seem to crumble in the breeze and we wondered what caused it; simply the ancientness of the city itself? The salt air? The blazing sun or maybe the materials they use to repair are not very resilient? It was a mystery to us.
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| from the top of the wall looking out of the city. |
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| so many beautiful doors with the little doors to enter through! |
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| repairs on the inside of the city's wall. |
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| these little statues were sold all over the city. Replicas of the work of Fernando Botero. |
The narrow streets continued with their liveliness, but today, Saturday, there were more tourists in town, brought in by the bus-loads. The narrow streets leading into the plazas throughout the city seemed to purge-out foreigners. We explored the neighborhood of Getsemani as well. Clearly not as well cared-for as the main part of the city, Getsemani is a "rougher" part of the city.
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| shooting in Getsemani |
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| there was lots of wild graffiti throughout Getsemani. And stray dogs, of course (at left). |
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| How could I forget that we managed to get in a swim!? |
In the evening we headed out again for a night on the town, starting with dinner at Oh La La Restaurant. The food at Oh La La was not French, not as far as we could tell. It wasn't very good either. So, after eating our fried cheese (which looked like fried spam but really, it's cheese so still very eatable) and mozzarella with what appeared to be canned sun-dried tomatoes, we moved on to enjoy our main course at Son Pedro's. It was there that Eric made a confession to me - although he does go to the bathroom when he says he needs to, he also uses it as an excuse to be nosey and look around places he's never been before. So, this time, he used his "bathroom break" as reconnaissance and reported back to me that on the other side of the restaurant is a bisutecki/hibachi grill thing going on.
Our last night in the city ended with more people watching and strolling. The street performers were out along with all the tourists.
I really loved Cartagena. I was so disappointed to not get more time there. I should know this about myself but alas, I seem to always forget - I need time to adapt. I was just starting to feel that I understood the place when we had to get on a plane for home. Our hotel was just becoming home away from home and I was just starting to "get" the cadence of our days when it was time to turn right back around again.
As brief as it was, it was a trip I won't soon forget. No mudslides or drug cartels as Joan Wilder experienced in Romancing the Stone, and I was pleased to be able to return with soties of interesting people, food and sights, rather than crazy scary adventures people were concerned I might have. Aside from the creepy crazy guy who followed-us a little too closely one night after pulling a quarter out of his pants, I felt really quite safe!
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