28 january Cartagena (COLOMBIA)

Day spent walking around the historical center... Maybe because I feel safer or only because the town is more alive and you can see her true everyday life but I love more strolling around during the day than in the night!

Today we go to "KW", a laboratory of tattoo, because I would like to make a tattoo... However I'm not so sure becuase of the hygienic conditions of the place... I have time up to Thursday to decide...

A characteristic thing of Cartagena is that, on the street, there are so many people that "sell phone calls", with the colored jackets on and the mythical writing: "Llamada", they wander for the lanes of the city with various cellular phones in the hands...

Evening in the enter again. This time there is a new character with us: Beppe, 72 years old and from Verona, called: "Don Josè." A bit stingy however I admire him so much because despite the age he has a great desire to have a good time, travel and simply live!

29 january Isla Barù (COLOMBIA)

Ivan is chatting with the Basque of Bilbao: Igor and asks information about the hostels and the carnival of Barranquilla.

Don Josè tells two itinerant sellers about how life goes on in Italy.

Nick strolls as a "perro" on the beach.

Me, stretched out in the shadow of this palm, observe the sky and the flight of the birds.

But, how did we end here?

We have organized everything in a tourist box along the tercera to Bocagrande. With a lance from 25 people, after a trip spent riding the waves of a sea in storm, among hits of backs and stomach in tumult, we land at the isle of St. Martin de Pajarel, famous only for its aquarium that we have avoided preferring some healthy snorkelling.

There was no particularly interesting fauna, only clouds of curious small fishes, some barracudas that strolled around, nothing compared to the Egyptian coral barrier!

Along the journey we are almost "assaulted", as pirates' way, by some children on a canoe that asked for money...

From this island, with twenty minutes of navigation we reach Isla Barù, on Playa Blanca.

We eat a barbecue fish... In places like this, with that atmosphere, everything assumes a different taste and also a small fish becomes the best meal of the world!

We have relaxed along that strip of white beach, in the shadow of lean palms folded by the wind and with the pelicans that clumsily were flying over our heads, with the local "perro" that, dead tired, stretched out on the beach, sometimes it got up for changing place pursuing the shade...

This magic and relaxing poetry is interrupted by the cries of ours "captain" that, in hurry, tries to assemble us immediately to depart. As feared, the wind has gotten up, the sea is getting cross and now the return will be very dangerous!

This time the ocean is very angry! Our boat seems a hull of walnut-tree that fights in a basin shaken by a child... At every wave that we overcome with difficulty, children howl: having a good time, the women for the pain of the hits inflicted to the back and the men curse in various languages!

Don Josè resists but we see that he is suffering, he is white in face and also when we fool him, he hardly succeeds in addressing us a smile, I sometimes squeeze my eye as to tell him: "Come on, we will manage!"

Luckily everything is all right and later on we are again with our feet on the ground. We stop to drink something in Bocagrande and while we are resting there, we observe how life goes on slowly here in Colombia!

"Come down pilot, let me see, come down at low altitude to see better and to be able to tell what glitters on the great sea ..."

- P.Conte -

In our hotel we see again the two Italian guys known here and they start telling us their sexual deeds of the last night... One of them was still with the "escort girl", a beautiful girl that with that supermini-skirt, in the hall of the Hilton reminded me of a scene of the movie: "Pretty Woman"!

I remained a bit to chat with her while the others went to their room to dress up for the night... It was a great occasion for me and for my innate curiosity, with the due ways I start with: "Where do you work?" - "At Dolce Vita" and blushes! She has told me many things. For a hour of "love" she usually asked from 100 to 200 $, that her typical clients were Italian (what discovery!) but Israelis too! She preferred ugly men because they made her feel very beautiful and then she has finally started with her story: twenty-year old with two son, (one: five years) her husband had escaped (here it often happens) and that she was doing this job for necessity even if by now she got used to it!

 

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