We arrived in Cartagena on Sunday the 4th of August planning to ship the Dodge to Panama on Friday the 9th. As soon as we arrived in town the Swiss couple we had been travelling with and Will and I meet up with the shipping agent called Manfred, but he wasn't exactly what we expected. Originally from Germany and a former ship captain Manfred was a scruffy, fat, grey haired and bearded man who couldn't give a straight answer to a single question and constantly left us wondering what it was he had under his dirty oversized t-shirt that looked like a bum bag but could have been anything… Oh and he hated anyone who didn't understand him which was everyone because he always talked in a quiet mumble filled with lots of frustrated sighs and an increasingly red face. He met us in is 'office' which is actually the local Carulla supermarket's cafe. We explained that we wanted to ship on the 9th and the Swiss the Friday after, Manfred suggested we could possibly get on the back of a Flat Rack (open container) with a French family and said that he would confirm it the next day. So we left the supermarket and followed the Swiss to the Bellavista hotel which allows overlanders to camp in the car park for 15,000COP each per night.
In the morning Michael and Martina (the Swiss) left for the beaches further north around the coast with time to kill before their shipping in two weeks. Meanwhile we moved to a different and slightly cheaper campground/hotel carpark a bit further out of town, but with a swimming pool and good wifi. At 2pm we met Manfred and the French family back at the supermarket. The French family turned out to be the same family with the huge Renalt overland truck we had met back in Cusco. Here Manfred told us the idea was a no go as the shipping company said the fit was too tight for us both on the same 40 foot Flat Rack. Disappointed we advised Manfred that we still wanted to ship on the 9th and could he please then arrange a 20 foot container for us, he said yes with a huge sigh and promised to get back to us in two days time as the next day (Wednesday) was a public holiday.
In the morning Michael and Martina (the Swiss) left for the beaches further north around the coast with time to kill before their shipping in two weeks. Meanwhile we moved to a different and slightly cheaper campground/hotel carpark a bit further out of town, but with a swimming pool and good wifi. At 2pm we met Manfred and the French family back at the supermarket. The French family turned out to be the same family with the huge Renalt overland truck we had met back in Cusco. Here Manfred told us the idea was a no go as the shipping company said the fit was too tight for us both on the same 40 foot Flat Rack. Disappointed we advised Manfred that we still wanted to ship on the 9th and could he please then arrange a 20 foot container for us, he said yes with a huge sigh and promised to get back to us in two days time as the next day (Wednesday) was a public holiday.
So it was all systems go for us with the possibility of shipping out in three days we had a lot to see and organise. We got washing done, reserved a place on a sailing boat through Blue Sailing with a New Zealand captain, brought food and drinks for the sailing trip, went to a mud volcano, got mugged after an evening in the old city and had some clothes stolen off the line, action action action! The mud Volcano was a strange experience but Tripadvisor does a good job of explaining it so there were no surprises. We happily had men massage us in the mud pool crammed with tourists and then had ladies viciously scrub us off in the grey laguna then yell at us that we hadn't paid even through we had.
Our evening in the famous walled city that most tourist's visiting Cartagena never leave was lovely at first, we even went on a horse and cart ride, had a beer in the plaza then strolled over to a restaurant for dinner. Heres Wills description of what happened next….
So last night at about 9:30pm Rochelle an I were walking to a bus stop in Cartagena, Colombia where we were going to catch a taxi back to our camping ground. We had had a great afternoon/evening in the 'old city' walking around enjoying the beautiful spanish buildings. We finished with a wander along the top of one of the huge fortified stone walls that bounder the old city. It was here when we had just left the walled area, crossed the road and were walking along a footpath to a bus stop where we had seen a number of taxi's passing. It was a relaxed evening and I guess I had let my guard down a little as for the past 8 months in South America we had been greeted with nothing but smiles and friendly hellos. Then out of the blue I was struck with a heavy blow to the back of the head. After being stunned for a second I spun around to see a man clutching my sunglasses which had been on my head from earlier in the day. Against the preached procedure to let muggers have whatever they demand rage took over and seeing my advance the guy took off across the street. One the other side I caught up to him and after a short struggle had him on the ground in an average headlock. Unfortunately he slipped an arm and landed a shot to my head giving me a purple shiner. At this stage Rochelle tells me she caught up and put in a few kidney shots to help me out. Seconds later there were cars stopped in the street and nearly a dozen people around including one big fella who dealt to our attacker. The next moment all I could see was blue and red flashing lights as the police roared in on two motorbikes, instantly they had guns out and the chaos calmed down pretty quickly.
And so with that we had been attacked in the streets of South America. I know its something that could have happened anywhere in the world but certainly as a foreigner in this continent you need to keep your whits about you all the time. It certainly wasn't something we hadn't thought about or been careful of but yet it still happened. I guess now all I can say is I'm glad he didn't have a knife or a gun and all I walked away with was a bruised eye and a few cuts and scrapes…
Our evening in the famous walled city that most tourist's visiting Cartagena never leave was lovely at first, we even went on a horse and cart ride, had a beer in the plaza then strolled over to a restaurant for dinner. Heres Wills description of what happened next….
So last night at about 9:30pm Rochelle an I were walking to a bus stop in Cartagena, Colombia where we were going to catch a taxi back to our camping ground. We had had a great afternoon/evening in the 'old city' walking around enjoying the beautiful spanish buildings. We finished with a wander along the top of one of the huge fortified stone walls that bounder the old city. It was here when we had just left the walled area, crossed the road and were walking along a footpath to a bus stop where we had seen a number of taxi's passing. It was a relaxed evening and I guess I had let my guard down a little as for the past 8 months in South America we had been greeted with nothing but smiles and friendly hellos. Then out of the blue I was struck with a heavy blow to the back of the head. After being stunned for a second I spun around to see a man clutching my sunglasses which had been on my head from earlier in the day. Against the preached procedure to let muggers have whatever they demand rage took over and seeing my advance the guy took off across the street. One the other side I caught up to him and after a short struggle had him on the ground in an average headlock. Unfortunately he slipped an arm and landed a shot to my head giving me a purple shiner. At this stage Rochelle tells me she caught up and put in a few kidney shots to help me out. Seconds later there were cars stopped in the street and nearly a dozen people around including one big fella who dealt to our attacker. The next moment all I could see was blue and red flashing lights as the police roared in on two motorbikes, instantly they had guns out and the chaos calmed down pretty quickly.
And so with that we had been attacked in the streets of South America. I know its something that could have happened anywhere in the world but certainly as a foreigner in this continent you need to keep your whits about you all the time. It certainly wasn't something we hadn't thought about or been careful of but yet it still happened. I guess now all I can say is I'm glad he didn't have a knife or a gun and all I walked away with was a bruised eye and a few cuts and scrapes…
Afterwards an English speaking local pulled up and translated for us, he explained that we should leave as the police were going to "beat him for a bit" so he took us to the restaurant his friends and family were at. Kindly he brought us a drink and found some ice for Wills eye. They were all very nice and extremly embarrassed for their country, they really wanted us to enjoy our time giving us plenty of recomendations on things to see and places not to go.
The next day to add to our run of bad luck our clothes were stolen off the line at our so called 'campground'. Despite being called Hotel Boquilla Camping no one would ever really camp there because they leave the gates open all day and refuse to close them. Its defiantly not safe for tents and not even really for car campers with random people using the car park as a thoroughfare all day. So we moved back to the Bellavista hotel with its round the clock parking guards having had enough of Cartagena and hoping to be leaving on Friday. Sadly though it wasn't to be; Manfred called and explained he couldn't get us on Fridays ship. Later we discovered this was because he had stuffed up and not realised that due to the public holiday on Wednesday the shipping papers needed to be in on Tuesday, this meant that the French family who had already been waiting two weeks wouldn't be on the ship either and they were furious!
The next day to add to our run of bad luck our clothes were stolen off the line at our so called 'campground'. Despite being called Hotel Boquilla Camping no one would ever really camp there because they leave the gates open all day and refuse to close them. Its defiantly not safe for tents and not even really for car campers with random people using the car park as a thoroughfare all day. So we moved back to the Bellavista hotel with its round the clock parking guards having had enough of Cartagena and hoping to be leaving on Friday. Sadly though it wasn't to be; Manfred called and explained he couldn't get us on Fridays ship. Later we discovered this was because he had stuffed up and not realised that due to the public holiday on Wednesday the shipping papers needed to be in on Tuesday, this meant that the French family who had already been waiting two weeks wouldn't be on the ship either and they were furious!
Looks like we would now be shipping with the Swiss after all, so we called them up and started making plans to share a 40 foot high cube container together. Then we hit the road for a few days out of the city. Without planning to we ended up driving to the famous peninsular beach of Playa Blanca (white beach), on the way we got into an argument with the car ferry driver and ran out of fuel but luckily right outside a house selling gas in 1L coke bottles. Eventually we arrived at the beach and parked to the sound of our brakes making a new 'somethings defiantly broken' noise. We chose to ignore the problem and spent the next two nights sleeping in the car park two minutes walk from the beach. It was hot as ever so we made the most of the new 12v fan we had attached to the food shelf and the new mosquito net that went over the back door so we could leave it open. We spent the days lazing on the beach getting harassed buy vendors who often out numbered the beach goers and swimming in the warm turquoise waters.
We returned to Cartagena on Monday morning with screeching brakes. At Bellavista we found the Swiss as well as our German friends and a Dutch family in a beefed up 100 series Toyota Landcrusier that made our truck look tiny in comparison. After taking off the Dodges back tyres it was discovered our brake problem was in fact caused by the front pads which were disintegrating, one had broken away completely causing the noise and damage to the rotor. On Wednesday we would be putting our cars into the port so we had only Tuesday to get the brakes sorted. The pressure was on but we aced it by showing a taxi driver the worn pad, he took us to a brakes specialist who amazingly had the correct new brake shoes and could machine our damaged rotor while we had a sleep in the air-conditioned office. Back at Bellavista Will worked hard to get the new pads on then just before dark we dashed to the car wash to get the Dodge cleaned up before going into customs the next day.
At 7:30am on Wednesday morning we met Manfred back at the supermarket; it was us, the Swiss, the French and another coupe from America in a Nissan who were originally from Germany. Here Manfred told us to grab a coffee so we did but grumbled that we would have rather had another 45 minutes sleep in. Eventually after Manfred was done fluffing around it was time to go so we traveled in convoy to the port. Only the drivers were allowed into the port in their high-vis vests and hard hats so I waited outside with our heavy beer filled bags. It was here that we ran into some crazy Argentineans who we had briefly met a few days ago. They were a group of five traveling in a Citroen 2CV and a Fiat 600 (think similar to a small VW beetle) both tiny old cars, they had no money to speak of and were heading for Mexico and Alaska respectively. Because their cars were so small they were looking for a third car to share a 40 foot container with them. When we first met we spent an hour measuring all the cars to see if we would fit but in the end we were about 20cm too long. Instead we put them in touch with another overland friend called Hein from Holland who was driving an equally small Rav4 and was planning to ship soon. It worked out for the best as we were all now shipping together on the same boat but the tight Argentineans refused to pay for a shipping agent so were having to do a lot more running around than we did. That afternoon we found a cheap room with two bunk beds and two fans that would be our extremely stuffy home for the next three nights.
On Wednesday evening we headed out for dinner to say good bye to the Germans Oliver and Isobel who were flying home after eleven months in South America and to our new friends the Dutch family who the Germans were sharing a container with. The Dutch were also heading home after five years away. Will and I thought we had found a great place to eat earlier but when we arrived we discovered they had just had a transformer blow out so there was no electricity. After a bit of humming and haring we decided to eat there anyway. We sat outside on a street table with candles and food cooked on a gas stove under torch light, it was a good night all round and the food was brilliant.
On Thursday Will, Michael and Martina left for the customs drug inspection while I looked after their dog Killa (Ki-ya) and did some blogging in the luxury of their air-conditioned room. At 2pm they arrived back hot and hungry after having totally unpacked and repacked the vehicles before finally putting them into the container and getting them strapped down. That night we had a few final beers together and in the morning we got ready for our sailing trip that would begin on Saturday.
We were super eager to get to Central America and begin the next stage of the trip but life had other plans… Our sailing yacht broke down and had to return to Cartagena after only one day, can you believe our luck?!?!
More about the sailing in the next blog...
Rochelle & Will
We were super eager to get to Central America and begin the next stage of the trip but life had other plans… Our sailing yacht broke down and had to return to Cartagena after only one day, can you believe our luck?!?!
More about the sailing in the next blog...
Rochelle & Will