Taganga

A 20 minute bus ride from Santa Marta lies a small fishing town named Taganga. This very laid back and slow-paced location is no place for anything other than sandals on your feet. The main strip of beach front street is lined with kiosks and open-air restaurants, bars, markets and dives. This place reminded me a lot of the towns alongside the Carribean side of Costa Rica.

After a while of searching, Vic and I found a cozy place on the end of the main street for a very cheap price. The room was unusually large compared to most other hostels i've been in. It included 2 beds, a fan, table and a VERY small bathroom. We had a joke about the bathroom. It provided the four "S" all at the same time if need be. You could shit, shower, shave and if unlucky, shocked. There was a loose light bulb and fixture adjacent to the shower.

One of the hidden jewels in Taganga is a hidden beach (not secret) that's accesible by a 20 minute walk through a mountain path or you can pay a boat ride there. We took the path. Glad we did because the views were spectacular. And a little monkey almost went off on me. I enjoyed the walk to the beach more than I did the beach itself.

Another one of the standout moments for me in Taganga, was at night. Vic, Samantha (our English buddy) and I went out in search of some night life. It started with some drinks. We went to this upscale place on the beach that we had heard about and it was dead. Personally I feel like it was too much for this environment. We ended up at a little sit-down bar and had some drinks. Met a local legend singer who sang with his dreadlocked son. Those guys could sing. When he found out I was Cuban, he sang a Willy Chirino song (Ya viene Llegando). He sang it even better than Willy. Sing is all these guys did, with nothing more than an old, beat-up guitar. Later on we found a place called "El Garage". That place was jamming. We were lucky enough to get there early and secured a table and chairs. After a short while it was standing room only. Salsa, merengue, even Pitbull vibrated off the speakers. I have to admit, it made me proud to know that the 305 was represented even in a remote part of the world.

No hormiga culonas here. The only culonas were the local women :)

Next stop...Parque Nacional Tayrona.