Monday, December 12, 2016

NCL Cruise LA to Miami: Cartagena, Colombia

Cartagena, Colombia
December 6, 2016
Latitude 10° 24.29” N

This was the second time I’d been to Colombia in a year and a half--high in the Andes for the first visit; sea level for the second.  Nice contrasts.  But, as usual, part of a day was hardly enough time, especially is an outdoor museum like Cartagena.

It was the day before Pearl Harbor Day.  Twenty-five years ago today I was in Colonial Williamsburg for their annual Christmas kick off weekend.  I was with my mother and Eleanor and Carol Schnob.  Two gone now.  It hardly seems possible that that was a quarter century ago.  It’s a long shot to think I’ll be here a quarter century from now, although both Mom and Eleanor made it to 94.  Memories.

We got off the ship early and a wet blast of humid air hit us.  It was going to be a hot day!  Stupidly, we didn’t plan this day well enough in advance and hastily joined a “tour” sold by an overly aggressive, and rather rude man.  “Give me $20.00,” he barked at all of us more than once.  And we did.  Once aboard we were told that we’d paid for transportation and that we’d have to pay him.  Well...I don’t think so.

This became the tour from hell.  Stuck in traffic getting out of the port.  Ten minutes here.  Twenty minutes there.  No narration.  Thirty long minutes at an emerald shop.  A hasty walk through the old town.  Once I spotted a source for taxis I told some people on the tour to tell the “guide” we were leaving.  That gave us three full hours to tour. Hardly enough time but it was more than the other people on the tour got.

Lots of people were selling arepas and that was my lunch.  One dollar for a cheese stuffed Colombian bread than no one outside this part of the world can really make.  It’s all about local ingredients.  I changed some money and was glad I did.  Dollar prices were twice Colombian peso prices, and speaking the language didn’t hurt.

Cartagena is a bit of an outdoor museum.  In its old core, balcony porches were laden with bougainvillea from lovey old colonial buildings.  It was all very picturesque and super crowded as there were three ships in port at the same time.  We had a bit of lunch, an ice cream and a few cold drinks.  It was blistering hot—not the kind of place I could ever call home.

I was walking in my parents’ footsteps.  They only took two cruises that I know of in their lives.  One with my brother and me when we were in high school; the other was at the end of my dad’s life.  They’d come back north from Florida because he just wasn’t able to do the trip anymore.  My dad loved warm weather and when he heard of a cruise being offered by a local radio station he wanted to do it.  My mother hated warm weather and water and simply did not want to go.  But they did and Cartagena was one of the stops. 

If I knew then what I know now, I would have taken him myself.  We would have had a wonderful time and would have made another wonderful memory.  But that was then and I didn’t know then what I know now.  It didn’t even dawn on me to offer to take him.  I could not help wonder what they did in this hot, hot place.  My mother would have wilted immediately and my dad really wasn’t capable of getting off the ship alone.  Just wondering…

By day’s end we slogged back onto the boat, clothes sticking to our bodies.  It had been a hot, very humid day.  The first blast of air con once in the boat was delightful.  I lingered on the balcony staring out at the German Ship Mein Schiff 4.  All of a sudden St. Nicholas caught my eye.  He was waiting to be photographed at the lower bow of the ship.  St. Nicholas!  And then it dawned on me…today was St. Nicholas Day and it brought me immediately back to Vienna and year ago today when St. Nick was plying the streets of the old city.

It had been day of contrasts with memories of other places on this same date coupled with the reality of being in South America for the day. 

We were more than happy to get back on the ship and out of the deep humid heat.  All my clothes needed to be washed, if for no other reason than to get the grim out of them before packing them away.

We pushed off at 6:00 pm.  The lights of Cartagena showed brightly off the calm waters of the bay we’d sailed into.  In the eastern sky a gently half-moon was rising—a fine end to a fine day.

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