Wet Week

A remote beach set in a jungle-surrounded national park on the Carribean coast sounds just ideal doesn't it? When everyone recommends it, saying you have to go to the last campsite because it has the best beach they tend to leave out one minor detail: the 2 hour hike in 100+ degree weather. To be fair, most people leave their stuff at a hostel in a surrounding town, or come into the park via boat. I was not that unfortunate. I'd like to comment more on my way back, leaving the park. Even though I knew what I was in store for, I wasn't totally prepared for what was to come, but I made do.

To start with, my first day of my week-long trip I lost one contact lens and of course it was the one time I didn't have the foresight to pack another pair. So I was stuck with my glasses for the rest of the trip. Which would have been fine, if it hadn't been humid and sticky and ridiculously hot, leading me to have to push up my glasses off of my nose every five minutes while they simultaneously fogged up so I'd have to take them off and then have no where to rub them down because my shirt was soaked with sweat just from sitting down to a meal. But I was prepared for this as I set off on my 2 plus hour hike to get out of the park. I packed just my big backpack, so my front was free of my little backpack (my first mistake when I came into the park) and had put on a good pair of socks to wear my hiking shoes so I didn't get blisters (my second mistake). About a half hour or so into the hike, dripping with sweat and in the full swing of my glasses-push-up routine, I came to the part of the jungle trail that takes you to walk on the beach. First however, there was a bit of an obstacle to cross consisting of a saltwater pool that had filled up from high tides and rain the night before. There was a few sticks and logs going across the pool, inviting hikers to cross. I was unsure, especially with my 15 pound unsteady backpack. But when a local guy came by and said "yeah, no problem" as I was looking for an alternate route, I summoned up the courage and decided to cross with his help. After a few wobbly steps, I thought I had it, but when I went to put my foot on a small, slimy log, I slipped and soaked my entire left side. Great, well it wasn't like I wasn't already wet before, but this time I got to have the smell of salty stagnant water linger upon me. Excellent. This local man put up with my cursing and attitude for the next few minutes, and when I got over it, we actually had a nice walk back. I managed to step in a only a bit of horse shit and mud, but nothing too horrific. The guy was nice and kept me company, not asking the usual questions of gringos, but asking me if they have this particular type of tree in the U.S. and telling me how he goes up trees and fetches coconuts to ship out. Since he had worked there for 12 years, he knew the best paths and we made it out of their in an hour and a half total. I managed to catch a bus into town after a few minutes of chatting with a lovely old lady who sold me a pork tamal (which I swear was chicken, but she assured me) and told me how it was a shame that Colombians didn't get to enjoy their own country as much as foreigners. I agreed. Part of my plan all along had been to go to town to catch an overnight bus back to Medellin. I had only slightly anticipated the extent to which I would be smelly and gross, so when I got to the bus terminal, it was a relief to see a guy I had met back in Cartagena getting on the same bus to Medellin. While he watched my stuff, I made the required 800 pesos (30 cents) to use the bathroom and wipe myself down with an assortment of baby wipes, soap, and a washcloth. I had one more pair of clean underwear left and put on my last only one day-worn clean shirt. When I came back my friend came me the sniff test and I managed to pass. Then I prepared myself for the 15 hour freezing bus journey by taking out a long sleeved-shirt, a fleece, scarf, and sleeping bag to keep my toasty on the A.C. blasted bus. Twenty-four hours after my sweaty trek, salt water spill, and musty bus ride, I finally got home, scrubbed myself rotten, and fell asleep.