By now it had been 23 days since we had last seen Paul and the truck Bob. They were supposed to have met us in Cartagena but that had not happened. We had to hire a minivan to take us all to the mud volcano and then along the northern Caribbean coast to the tiny village of Taganga. Paul’s journey had not been so easy. Firstly the barge he was travelling on didn’t set off for a couple of days. Then when it did start moving, the propeller shaft broke causing more delays. The river was low and the current in the wrong direction so travelling was exceptionally slow. He was able to get off at an earlier port in Peru – the one he was aiming for would have been three extra days on the barge. Paul drove the distance between the two ports in two hours! He then drove all the way through Peru, got held up for 11 hours at the Ecuador border simply because the border guards can do that and finally made it through the Colombian border and into Colombia. He managed all this driving in record time and was back on track to meet us. Unfortunately, all roads in Southern Colombia were closed. Blockades and protesters made all roads impassable. Neither cargo trucks, buses or local drivers were allowed through. The local indigenous tribes were protesting at their awful treatment by the government. After all that driving, Paul was going to be late because of road closures. Eventually, he found open roads through the mountains and slowly made his way north.
We had been in the tiny fishing village of Taganga a day when we heard a familiar low rumbling sound coming up the steep hill. An exhausted Paul and Bob had made it! The hostel even rescinded its ‘no alcohol bought elsewhere allowed’ rule so we could all celebrate and watch (and join in) as Paul had his first beer in a month. I really enjoyed spending time in Taganga. There was a superb restaurant called Babaganoush where the chef owner specifically made me some Baba Ganoush (smoked aubergine dip). We had spoken to the owner earlier in the day and he had explained to us that the aubergines available at the moment were not suitable for the dip. Even so, he managed to make up a tiny amount for us. He apologised that it was not the usual standard (it was still very tasty) but I was over the moon he made any at all. Nobody else in the restaurant got some! (The above photo on the right is Tayrona).
The following day we drove (in Bob) the short distance to the entrance of Tayrona national Park. We had to pack a small bag for a two night stay – the smaller the better as we had to carry it on a 2 hour trek to get to the camping ground. The trek took through palm forests and scrambling over rocks. In the heat it got quite strenuous at times – it was a good job we had set off as soon as we could at 9am. We were not sleeping in tents but in rented hammocks – there were 45 hammocks strung up in our hammock shelter – I was number 9. The national park was full of stunning beaches but very cold water. I had a quick dip but it was not the place to spend hours floating and lazing about.
The first day we were there, it was a Sunday and it was exceptionally busy – heaving with families with children, lots of teenagers and hundreds of pet dogs. There were a number of campsites in the park. As well as hammocks you could rent tents and small cabins – day trippers could also come in by boat from a city a couple of hours boat ride away. It got much quieter on Monday and Tuesday and we practically had the place to ourselves. As well as the beach, you could walk around the trails into the forest – you could even try to spot the caiman that lives in the natural pool near the main beach. I did manage to see his eyes at one point.
On the morning of departure, we all opted to leave before 7 so we could watch the sun rise over the beaches as we walked but also so we could beat the heat. The trek back was far easier due to the temperature difference. Sleeping in the hammocks meant there was no chance of a lie in anyway!
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