Volcano Here, Tattoo There

Tess arrived in Cartagena as I was finishing my last post. We spent the afternoon moving down the street to the sister hostel of the one where I spent the first three nights (so we went from Makako Chill Out to the Chill Out hostel). Both are owned by a lovely gentleman named Rafael, who kindlyaccompanied us to a bus station so th

at Tess could retreive her violin, which she had accidentally left on the bus.

Later that evening, we met up with Eran, who had also come to Cartagena, and Bao, who had participated in the dive class in Taganga with Tess and Eran while I was off in other parts of the country. We all enjoyed a nice sunset/moonlit walk around the walls of the Old City, and also ventured out a bit into Getsemani. However, between the dive courses and the general heat of the city, we called it an early night.
The next morning, Tess and I decided to make our own adventure. Our destination of choice was called the Volcan de Totumo, description coming below. Most hostels offer tours there for 50 mil pesos, but we knew that by taking colectivos we could easily cut costs. We walked a few blocks from our hotel and hopped on the first colectivo, which journeyed for about an hour until we arrived at the Transport Terminal at the outskirts of the city. We definitely enjoyed getting to see other areas of Cartagena, and spent much time talking about how we will be making the world a better place throughout our lives. At this point, we needed to find a second colectivo taking us to Lomo de Arena. A guy directed us onto a bus, and it was underway in a short amount of time. The fee for this bus was 6 mil per person, so I decided to pay for both Tess and myself in order to break a 50 mil bill. The change I should have received was 38 mil, for you math whizzes out there. The man who had first led us to this bus hands me 30 mil, and jumped off as the colectivo was en route, effectively stealing 8 mil. After talking with other people on the bus, including the other money collector, it seems that this guy was not actually working for the bus line, and there was no way to get our other 8 mil.
Now, since that equates to around $4 US, it's not a big deal financially. However, for Tess and I it was slightly disheartening, since it was the first negative experience either of us had had in the country. However, the reactions of everyone else on the bus shortly restored our faith in humanity: the collector didn't make us pay the fee again, everyone kept shaking their heads and voicing their dismany at the situation, and an older gentleman sitting next to us bought us biscuits and yuca sweets to make us feel better! The sense of community felt was really incredible.

A ride of 1.5-2 hours eventually brought us to Lomo de Arena, where we then hoppe

d on mototaxis for a 5 minute ride over to our destination. The Totumo Volcano is a mud volcano, and you jump into a big pit of mud at

the top, supposedly with great benefits for your skin. I'm not sure about that, but it was quite the experience. Between the gooey texture of the mud itself, and the fact that its buoyancy prevents you from doing much more than floating at the surface, I have never seen or done anything similar in

my entire life. We enjoyed about 20 minutes of muddy pleasure, including massages by men in the pit, then made our way to the lagoon to be rinsed off by local women. Once rinsed off, the tourism of the entire situation hit us: suddenly, the men who massaged us wanted money, as did the women who rinsed us, and ditto the boy who took photos of us throughout this whole process. Since it was only total about $10-15 US in tips, it was not a big deal for the experience, but definitely a reminder that certain areas

are touristy, no matter if you arrive on the tour bus or in colectivo like the locals. The other interesting part of this experience was that MANY people wanted pictures

of the gringas who had been mudbathing. I think we posed for at least 10 pictures between the top of the volcano and entering the lagoon for rinsing. I didn't think we were that interesting...

Our motorbike men came back for us and

we made the return trip to Lomo de Arena. Here, we found out that our next bus would not be coming until 3 PM. It was only 1 PM. Mototaxi and regular taxi drivers alike began offering us prices to get back to Cartagena. Luckily, at the same time a car passed by with a woman in it who had been on our original bus ride out. She was going back to the next little town be

tween our location and Cartagena, and we would easily be able to catch a colectivo there. We could ride in the car also for 3 mil pesos each ($1.50). We hopped in and chatted with her and the driver all the way back to the little town, got on the bus, and continued talking. Sandra, the woman, was very sweet. She did get a bit religious on us, imploring us not to get the tattoos that we were planning for the night because "we should give our bodies back to God in their pure state". However, as I said, she was very kind, and even invited us to her house for lunch after the adventure. Since we A) felt bad putting her out, and B) Tess had a Skype date with her family, we politely declined.

After some rest, Skype, and dinner, it was time for tattoos!

Luckily, there was a very reputable place a few blocks from our hostel. The whole idea behind our tattoos should be explained at this point. Back in Bogota, when drinking before the Gay Pride Parade, we had seen that our friend Daniel (same as participated in the trip to Parque Tayrona and my visit to Medellin) had a tattoo reading "Por que no?" (Why not?) on his chest. Ever since seeing it, Tess and I had loved the idea- we only have one life, and why not experience everything that you can throughout it? It would also be a great reminder of the trip and all that we had experienced. We made our way over, selected the font for the tattoos, and got prepared for the needles. Tess went first, feeling slightly nervous as this was her first tattoo, but was a total trooper, especially considering she got it directly above her ear. I went second and was unpleasantly surprised at just how much it hurts to get a tattoo on the inside of your foot! However, I was definitely pleased with the final result.

After tattoos, we headed back to the hostel, where we were planning to drink and go out with various people, including Diego, a Chilean with whom I had many discussions, especially about imperialism in the Western Hemisphere. It was fun! We all had a few beers at the hostel, went out to go dancing, found the club to expensive, and ended up drinking and talking more beneath Quiebra Canto again. Around 2 A

M, we eventually went back home, where everyone else went to bed but Diego and I continued our discussions. Another relaxing yet fun night in the Caribbean...

Wednesday morning Tess and I woke up to tour the Castillo San Felipe, built in the 1500s as part of the defense system of the city. It was gorgeous and offered great views of the city, but knowing that it was our last morning together after some epic travels, we mostly just talked about life, the future, and the future of our lives post-Colombia. For sure we'll get together and save the world, the rest is all up in the air. We stopped by an artisan market, had the most fresh shrimp cocktail of our lives, and ate our last together-cooked meal in the park, then she escorted me to the Terminal de Transporte for our last goodbyes. Without getting too sappy, there are few people in the world as terrific as she is, and it was really hard to know that it'll at least be some time until we get to see each other again. I also have to credit her with giving me the inspiration to keep traveling around the country, and the courage, through her example, to go it alone at various points along the way. Tess, may the rest of your travels be as good to you as these weeks were to me!

Off then on a legendary 25 hour bus ride, through most of which I thankfully slept, arriving Thursday early evening to enjoy my last four nights in Bogota...