...the flora and fauna were something special. Large colourful butterflies flitted past as we walked, birds were dazzling yellows, greens and blues. Insects came in a variety of sizes and shapes. Repairs to the track were being undertaken, materials brought in by mule, concrete mixed by hand. Hard manual labour in steamy tropical heat...
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... Convivial evenings were enjoyed by the merry band of cruisers having a short vacation away from the boats. The girls went off for an afternoon of craft activities (more from Sue later on that one) while the guys tested hammocks back at base. A meeting arranged at a local bar was delayed into the hours of darkness as craft work ran later than scheduled. An interesting couple of hours watching the world go by as we sat opposite the fortified police station. The air of frontier living has been all too real within the past decade with battles being waged between Guerrillas and government forces in this village. A large and heavily armed police presence remains with roadblocks and patrols a constant backdrop.
Photo shows the girls having located the well oiled chaps before searching out an excellent local restaurant for a meal.... Left to Right > Kate & Paul (Iolea), Sue (Spruce), Marion & Mark (Zenna)....
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..Not always restaurant meals ... one night we bought supplies and barbecued at the hostel. A great evening in spite of discovering the steaks would probably have been better stewed; none the less very tasty fare. The claim it only rains for an hour each day up here was found inaccurate as three closely spaced one hour long downpours challenged male prowess at the BBQ; various techniques were employed to stop the tropical rain drowning our embryonic fire...all turned out well and a lovely atmosphere for our meal on the eve of Sue's birthday... Clockwise from bottom left >> Andy, Kate, Paul, Sue, Mark, Marion.... in the background some of the other visitors to the hostel....
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...tough but tasty :-)
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08/Jul/2012, Santa Marta
Today we arose at 6am and were off for a walk as the sun came up half an hour later. Already people were on the beach playing and splashing this sunny Sunday morning. A culture where hiding from the mid day sun is an art, no signs of the locals roasting themselves like tourists often seem to do. The city is completely different without so many street traders or stalls in operation, the churches and cathedrals were bursting with litanies and sermons bubbling onto the streets through wide open doorways. A stop at one of the small cafes frequented by the locals gave a substantial standard menu breakfast: meat soup followed by scrambled eggs with plantains and washed down with sweet milky coffee...
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..one of the early morning street traders ready for the rush on buying reed baskets and sombreros ...
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