Posted by: Larzizou | August 22, 2008

Taganga, Colombia

Shamefully, I skipped Carthagena. Simply no time to get there on my tight schedule. I will have to come back to Colombia, which is a rather pleasant thought for me right now… I don’t want to leave. A few hours North of Carthagena is Santa Marta, that is, a 16h bus ride from Medellin. I have been warned a lot of times by numerous people to avoid or at least be careful with night buses in Colombia, but nothing has happened to me so far. So far.

Twenty minutes away from the colorful Santa Marta in the Carribean is Taganga, a small fishermen village. It is also the temporary home of hosts of Israeli backpackers, an excellent place to grab freshly squeezed fruit juices in the street and a cheap scuba diving location.

A rather dreamy location. The beach front.

I stop at the much recommended Casa Felipe, opened a few years ago by a Frenchman – not surprisingly – going by the name Philippe. I hear great things about him, but do not have the opportunity to meet him. This is the inside yard from the hostel.

It’s only 10 minutes from the beach front, so easy to get back…

Fresh maracuya juices. Less than one US dollar. Where else in the world…

You can find anything on the beach, even games for children, with scriptures in Hebrew.

Fresh fish can be bought at night on these barks turned upside down. Although you have to haggle a lot and check that what you get is what you asked, it usually turns out really cheap.

I take a cab to Santa Marta to investigate the surroundings. Small colorful city.

That is right. This shop sells articulos religiosos. Religious items.

“- Excuse moi… – Oui ?” Stephanie, from Lyon in France, whom I met in Patagonia with her boyfriend five months ago, hails me in the street. I have trouble recognizing her at first, she does not. Like me, she and her boyfriend had not planned to get to Colombia. Like me, they stay as Casa Felipe. That would be coincidence number 4568798854 in my trip. We decide to have dinner together at the hostel.

They bought a fish. Luckily (and quite understandably), Casa Felipe boasts a grill.

I am in charge of the dessert. Nothing fancy (I cannot do fancy), bananas covered with maracuya (passion fruit).

One of the biggest attraction near Taganga is Tayrona Nacional Parque. I meet Dargilio (thus named by his mother as the contraction of Darwin and Virgilio) and his brother, Americans of Philippians descents. Ten years ago, Dargilio spent a year studying in France as an exchange student – and ever since, carries a 20 francs note. I have not seen one in eight years.

Getting ready to rumble in the jungle.

Millions of ants.

Bigger than your fist.

Brazilian provocation.

No wonder people rush to Tayrona.

I am not staying for the night and only have a few hours to spend on the beach. It takes 2 to 3 hours to get there, from the entrance of the park.

Most people, like them, whom I met in Medellin, spend a few days at Tayrona, and get busy bathing, talking, drinking, smoking… and sleeping early in hammocks on the beach (no electricity).

The Philippino bros.

Already going back…

And back at Taganga. Tonight, tuna and salmon, bbq’ed and sashimi style.

Very few people know about Taganga’s concern for public health. Di NO a las drogas !!! Translation : “Say no to drugs, cigarettes and alcohol, because in general, they destroy your organism and your life and bring you to places where you would have never wanted to go and much less experience.

Very few people know about Taganga’s poets. Luis Alberto Devia expresses his art on the city’s walls as you can read. Two poems below : Vivir Como Las Flores (Live like flowers) and Las Mujeres (Women), the later starting with Las mujeres son como manzana en los arboles (Women are like apple on trees)… Wanna have a bite ?

My two Israeli pals met at Manizales. Also staying at Casa Felipe…

The black and red zebras made everybody jealous – due to their exceptional dancing skills.

And finally, Las Mujeres damos el Ejemplo.

Me, at Casa Felipe, chilling…

… in the flowery yard…

…before the most traumatic ride of my life.

To be continued…



  1. tous tes rides sont les plus traumatics de ta life


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: