As mentioned earlier, we made our way to Tayrona National Park. It is a huge area on the Caribbean coast of Colombia. There are very few hotels there, but those are not really suitable for our budget. The other option is camping, which is what we chose. But first, we stayed in a hostel just outside the park, only a few minutes' walk away. It was a real jungle hostel.
The rooms were huts on stilts with no windows or doors. The bunk beds were made of bamboo and luckily equipped with mosquito nets, with a view of the jungle. Then we set off on a short hike, the so-called 'Monkey Trail'. No, it's not named after me... it's because there are different types of monkeys living there. We walked and had to cross a river. until we saw the first little monkeys. They were capuchin monkeys. After they threw about 50 nuts at us, we continued walking. We stopped at a place and admired a huge ant trail. Suddenly, we thought it was raining because it sounded like it. No, it wasn't rain. We saw a huge bush with thousands of ants climbing on it and chewing the leaves for their nest or their burrow. It was very impressive to see how the whole 'logistics' worked. Eventually, we arrived at the beach. It was really beautiful, but unfortunately we couldn't swim because of the dangerous currents. Anyway, we headed back. After a 20-minute discussion with Muriel about which way was the right one, we finally found the correct path. Along the way, we saw the sun setting between the banana plantations, and it started to cool down. At the hostel, there was a 'family' dinner. We all sat together at one table and told each other exciting stories until late into the night. The next morning, we set off for the park entrance, of course with our small backpack. Swimming trunks, sunscreen, sunglasses, and 3-4 spare underwear, just in case. The day before, we had already reserved our hammock at the campsite with some scam artist on the side of the road, not knowing if the campsite even existed. We then bought our tickets and took a shuttle bus for the 8-kilometer ride. It made a short stop a little further in and the first group got off. We had not really informed ourselves about where the park was, so we decided to stay on the bus, hoping that we wouldn't have to get off. Wrong thought. At the end of the road, a worker told us that we had to get off at the other stop. Okay, but the shuttle driver didn't care and, in response to our polite questions, gestured towards the road with his thumb. What a jerk... Anyway, we walked back the approximately 3 kilometers with our flip-flops and finally arrived at the campsite. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Between palm trees and various bushes and plants right in front of the Caribbean Sea, the hammocks were hanging and the tents were set up. It was truly a dream, camping was so much fun. But we didn't stay long, we wanted to go swimming. A worker told us where the beach was. We checked it out and, surprise, swimming was prohibited. Great, I was a little frustrated. So, we walked all the way back to the main entrance to take the shuttle again. This time, we took the wrong path. With our amazing footwear (Flipflop 2000), we walked along a really nice trail. There were beautiful views of the sea, but unfortunately they were too far away and I was longing for them in the 35-degree weather. It went up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, down, down, and then up again. After about 1 ½ hours of walking, Muriel let out a tired but energetic sigh. Somewhere between trees and shrubs, we took a break. It felt like we were on an island, no idea where we actually were and no plan at all. We discussed whether to turn back or continue. We decided to keep going. We then arrived at a small village with a few huts. We had lunch there and continued walking. Yeah, it was more luxurious than being all alone on an island. We finally found the first beach, but swimming was prohibited. Smiling, we continued walking. On the way to the next beach, in the middle of the jungle, we found a large concrete block. There was trash all around it. On my phone, it said 'bakery'. I thought it was wrong because it definitely didn't look like a bakery. Later, we had a surprise at that bakery. Finally, after a good 4 hours of walking with flip-flops, we reached the beach. It was called La Piscina (The Pool). I reluctantly admit that it was worth it. One of the most beautiful beaches we have ever seen. However, it was already 4:00pm and the sun was about to set. Well, at least now we knew where the beach was. We couldn't get lost on the way back to the village because there was only one way. Suddenly, there was a loud noise. Howler monkeys were right above us and they were shaking the coconut trees. We were scared but excited. New park visitors kept passing by and they warned us. 2-3 times, coconuts narrowly missed hitting people. After the village, the path split. We had a 50/50 chance. We decided to take the 'wrong' 50% and walked on the wooden path. Everything looked the same. Until we reached a narrow canal. I realized that we hadn't taken the same path. It was basically the highway for horses. Since it was impossible to ride a horse on the other path, they prepared a separate path just for that. Technically, it was not allowed to walk along the horse path. But no one cared. After a ridiculous 1 hour and 10 minutes, we reached the front entrance. We actually saved over 2-3 hours. When we arrived at the campsite, it was already dark, with only torches burning. We collapsed onto the first chair we found and dug ourselves out. We had walked more than 23 kilometers, and stupidly all in flip-flops. We ate something and made ourselves comfortable in the hammock. The next morning, I woke up with a tickling sensation on my leg. After shaking for a moment, it started to tickle on my thigh. I found it strange and looked to see what it was. The gecko on my chest looked just as surprised as I did. After not moving for 5 seconds, we both started moving frantically. Muriel, from her hammock next to me, said, 'Aww, a gecko!'
Then we decided to go back to the same beach. Now we knew the faster way via the 'highway for horses'. But there was a catch. The path was not meant for pedestrians. There was a huge square with about 30 horses and around 15 guides. To the right of the square, there was a path leading to the 'highway for horses'. So we had to cross the square unnoticed and sneak onto the path. Once we were on the path, no one cared about us; we just had to walk until we reached the path. I felt like I was in a Mission Impossible movie. We started slowly crossing the square, looking at and petting all the horses. Of course, everyone wanted to sell us a tour. But we kept saying, 'No, we just want to pet them.' Until we reached the last horse. At the right moment, we turned onto the path. About an hour later, we arrived at the beach.
The place is known for snorkeling, but the price for the equipment was quite high, 15 francs for 2 hours. However, our neighbors had two snorkel masks and snorkels. I thought, if I talk to them and ask about snorkeling, they might let me borrow theirs. Just 2 minutes of talking to them, and they said, 'Take my mask and go see for yourself.' The plan worked. During the afternoon, our neighbors suddenly appeared with chocolate croissants. Muriel, of course, woke up from her deep sleep. We asked them where they got the croissants. They had bought them at that bakery we laughed about. But Muriel immediately headed out. And let me tell you, it was the best chocolate croissant we've ever had in our whole lives. In the evening, we returned to the camp. We had dinner and played with the camp cat for a while before going to bed. On the next morning, I woke up with a hangover. After a little shaking, my thigh started tingling. I found it strange and looked to see what it was. The gecko on my chest looked just as surprised as I did. After not moving for 5 seconds, we both started moving frantically. Muriel, from her hammock next to me, said, 'Aww, a gecko!'
After the morning hangover, we flew to Panama. Unfortunately, we missed our flight. Why? You can read about it in the next blog about Panama – San Blas.
