Day 72
Today I'm in: Taganga, Colombia
Taganga is not a large place. It's comprised of roughly ten streets running east-west and about five streets running north-south. The only paved streets are the ones within a block or so of the waterfront, and the main road linking Taganga to Santa Marta. Houses are simple one-level affairs with large tiled patios and interior courtyards. It's easy to forget there's a large city just over the mountain, except at night when the lights of Santa Marta glow brightly over the hilltops. Taganga is a very sleepy place, full of children running barefoot down dusty roads, dogs and cats slinking around underfoot, and families sitting on their front porches listening to Colombian music and watching the occasional motorbike go by. The pace here is molasses slow.
The heat might have something to do with it. Like it does in Cartagena, the heat settles like a blanket on the town, morning, noon and night. With only one exception - the somewhat pricey but not-that-nice-looking Hotel Ballena Azul on the waterfront - none of the accommodations in Taganga have air conditioning. I'm staying at Divanga, a guest house a few blocks inland that consists of ten rooms arranged around a small pool and thatched-roof patio that catch a nice breeze. It's a great place - the French owner Lucie is a real gem and a great source of inside information - but inside my room it's just as hot as it is outside. I don't even mind that there's no hot water, since the cold showers feel so good. There's a ceiling fan, which helps a little, but I still have a lot of trouble getting to sleep. Any time I pass the town's one ATM, inside a little glass booth on the main north-south street, I stop in for a few moments to enjoy the free air conditioning.
Taganga gained fame as a backpacker destination over the last decade, but it's slowly moving upmarket, with more and more private villas popping up on the hills above town and new guesthouses and hostels being carved out of existing homes all the time. The residents still rule the streets, but there are plenty of European tourists as well. Almost no Americans - I listen to voices as I'm walking around and have only heard one other American accent in three days.
The waterfront is the town's de-facto center, although during the day even it is a little slow. It comes alive at night, however - families out for a stroll, tourists in the bars, teenagers setting off fireworks on the beach. There is a narrow beach, but it's somewhat dirty and clogged with fishing boats, so it's better just to look out to sea from one of the beachfront bars than go for a swim. There's a path that leads up one of the headlands north of town that brings you to two smaller, cleaner beaches; I had a swim at one of them today.
Overall, Taganga is short on sights but long on places where you can put your feet up and do nothing. Doing nothing is the order of the day here, all day, every day. After eleven weeks of frenetic sightseeing that's taken some adjusting, but I did get all the way through a book on my phone's Kindle app today while lying in a hammock, so I think I'm getting the hang of it. The big natural draw is nearby Tayrona National Park, which I visited today - more on that in the next entry.
Today I'm in: Taganga, Colombia
Taganga is not a large place. It's comprised of roughly ten streets running east-west and about five streets running north-south. The only paved streets are the ones within a block or so of the waterfront, and the main road linking Taganga to Santa Marta. Houses are simple one-level affairs with large tiled patios and interior courtyards. It's easy to forget there's a large city just over the mountain, except at night when the lights of Santa Marta glow brightly over the hilltops. Taganga is a very sleepy place, full of children running barefoot down dusty roads, dogs and cats slinking around underfoot, and families sitting on their front porches listening to Colombian music and watching the occasional motorbike go by. The pace here is molasses slow.
The heat might have something to do with it. Like it does in Cartagena, the heat settles like a blanket on the town, morning, noon and night. With only one exception - the somewhat pricey but not-that-nice-looking Hotel Ballena Azul on the waterfront - none of the accommodations in Taganga have air conditioning. I'm staying at Divanga, a guest house a few blocks inland that consists of ten rooms arranged around a small pool and thatched-roof patio that catch a nice breeze. It's a great place - the French owner Lucie is a real gem and a great source of inside information - but inside my room it's just as hot as it is outside. I don't even mind that there's no hot water, since the cold showers feel so good. There's a ceiling fan, which helps a little, but I still have a lot of trouble getting to sleep. Any time I pass the town's one ATM, inside a little glass booth on the main north-south street, I stop in for a few moments to enjoy the free air conditioning. 
Taganga gained fame as a backpacker destination over the last decade, but it's slowly moving upmarket, with more and more private villas popping up on the hills above town and new guesthouses and hostels being carved out of existing homes all the time. The residents still rule the streets, but there are plenty of European tourists as well. Almost no Americans - I listen to voices as I'm walking around and have only heard one other American accent in three days. 
The waterfront is the town's de-facto center, although during the day even it is a little slow. It comes alive at night, however - families out for a stroll, tourists in the bars, teenagers setting off fireworks on the beach. There is a narrow beach, but it's somewhat dirty and clogged with fishing boats, so it's better just to look out to sea from one of the beachfront bars than go for a swim. There's a path that leads up one of the headlands north of town that brings you to two smaller, cleaner beaches; I had a swim at one of them today.
Overall, Taganga is short on sights but long on places where you can put your feet up and do nothing. Doing nothing is the order of the day here, all day, every day. After eleven weeks of frenetic sightseeing that's taken some adjusting, but I did get all the way through a book on my phone's Kindle app today while lying in a hammock, so I think I'm getting the hang of it. The big natural draw is nearby Tayrona National Park, which I visited today - more on that in the next entry. 
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