Tolú, the interlude before San Andrés

I got to the bus station in order to buy a ticket few hours before the departure, to get around and also make sure that there will be the tickets (it was unlikely that there wouldn’t be, since thousands of people were coming for the concert, not leaving, but still).

The ticket cost whooping 100 K, but was hoping to get comfort in exchange.

I was told there will be Wifi, reclinable seats and lots of legroom.

All correct, even wifi worked. The girl I was sat next to told me that Tolú before Montería, and it would take less than 8 hours to get there. She said it with absolute confidence about the subject. I was pretty amazed, but quickly checked on the google maps. It was the way I checked before.

The ride was quite comfy. As a matter of fact, I got better sleep than during last 4 nights in shitel. And instead of arriving at 8 am, we got to the destination at 9,30 am, something I was expecting given the overall colombian timing.

From the station, I took the human tuk-tuk. The asking was exactly what I expected to pay, so with no haggling we went on to the hotel.

It was going to be several days of total relax, or so it seemed. I was the only guest in the hotel. Picked up the room, and went to eat late breakfast. Quite lucky, I found a place where for 7 K I got a nice piece of fish with sides.

Upon returning, I found out that just next to my room, the family of 5 moved in. With a baby having less than a year. It was crying when I was passing through. I immediately decided to move to the furthest room possible. Unfortunately, the internet didn´t get there, and it was hot because of direct exposure to the sun. But as far from the noise as possible.

After moving, decided to take a stroll in the village. Realizing that there were literally no beaches (due to the storm in the sea, the tiny beach shrinked to zero – water was hitting the malecon (named exactly as in Cuba).

There was one nice thing – waves. Lots of youngsters were surfing, basically on the piece of wood, part of the cupboard, etc. I decided to get mine. On the way was asked by one fellow costeño if I needed a weed, coke or anything else (got used to it already). I said I needed a surfboard.

Sure, I can get you.

How much?

ee, 25 K.

Thanks, I’ll get back to you upon return *(or not).

I kept walking. At the other extreme I saw the family with 3 “surfboards” – exactly as I was looking for. After asking how much he would want for one, he asked how much I wanted to pay. Around 5 K, I offered. OK – deal. We spoke a bit more, he turned out to be the driver of milk truck, but today he was off and decided to spend a day with his family.

Before paying for the board, I wanted to try it. But to try, I had to leave my phone and wallet with the guy. Which in this part of Colombia would usually mean losing the goods. But I trusted my guts and left it with them, looking every few seconds if they are still there. Board seemed decent, I paid 4,5 K (cause next bills was 20 K and the guy didn’t have a change), and left. On the way I was asked several times how much paid for it. Response didn’t raise any reaction in none of the cases.

I left all the valuable stuff in the hotel, and went surfing.

I was warmly welcome by the youngs as gringo.

It didn’t matter I spoke spanish without accent.

It didn’t matter I wasn’t from US. Finally, it didn’t matter I did the same sport as they did, with same equipment.

I was a gringo, regardless the name.

If they could extract some money from me, I would be amigo, but in this case, I was gringo, the collective choir made their verdict.

 

Some of them were cool though, one was even trying to give me lessons how to use the power of the waves.

After getting some proper slides (can’t call it proper surfing with the kind of equipment I had), it was time to take a rest.

Also, since for 2 days didn’t get any response from the airlines, I pushed the subject with flight reschedule.

Next day was going to be calm, and I felt it was a good moment to catch up with work, since on the Island there might, or might not be the internet at all.

 

 

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