Flight attendant calls my name to the counter. I’m thinking they are going to say the flight is full and you’re shit out of luck. Instead she asks me for my visa to Colombia and gives me a fucking mini heart attack. Uhhh, I googled that shit. It said we don’t need a visa. Unless that changed in the last few months. Turns out she just drank special sauce for dinner.
When they call my zone, I jump like a ninja and get in line. Delta has midget-sized overhead compartments where you can only put the bag in sideways. A massive amount of people had to check their luggage. Haha, suckers!
I’m seated in the center aisle that has 3 seats. My seat is far right. McDuschy’s seat is far left and no one in center. But he insists on sitting in the center and taking up both seats. Whatever, McDuschy, but could you at least not sit spread eagle and jab me in the fucking side with your arm? Asshole.
I landed in Atlanta at gate A at 8:30 a.m. and my flight to Cartagena is at the very end of the airport at gate F. It starts to board at 9 a.m. It was 1-2 miles to my gate and if they didn’t have a train I’d be one pissy-ass bitch. The train was fast as hell and got me to gate F in like 5-10 min!
On the flight to Colombia two girls were talking about yoga crap for two hours. Yadda yada chakras, yadda auras, yada yadddddazzzzzzz.
There was 1 person at the customs counter for about an hour…then they decided to add 2 more cuz the line moved like 20 people, maybe. The customs guy was like, is this address Airbnb, pointing to the form I filled out. I say yes and he asks to see the reservation cuz what I wrote down isn’t an address. The one in the listing was bullshit. It doesn’t match the address you get when you hit find directions. He’s like, why doesn’t it match? I say… I don’t know… I’ll just call them. He bitches and moans for another few minutes and then asks what’s my purpose here. I say to catch a boat. Then he’s like, what? And asks me again and I respond in very enunciated English “TO CATCH A BOAT TO PORTUGAL.” I’m not in the mood for bullshit. He asks me where’s the boat? Wtf? I don’t know…the gawd damn harbor! He looked confused and finally stamped my passport. No wonder it took so gawd damn long to get through the line. Dickwad.
Creepy dude glares at my sunglasses as I walk to the bathroom at the airport. I then exchange a whopping $20 cuz I’m only here for a day. I ask the lady in Spanish how much does a meal cost. She says 10,000 pesos. That’s not as cheap as I was hoping.
The men and boys are flirtatious as hell and say various forms of hey or what’s up in Spanish. Most the women scowl at me. Lots of honks as men go by on scooters, which I’m assuming is more marriage proposals. Y’all will have to wait in line, I’m on backorder since 7 countries ago.
The Airbnb address leads me to the wrong place. Fuck me. I had a few ladies come up to me while I’m wandering aimlessly around looking frustrated. I think they told me to put my phone in my pocket cuz motorbikes come by and steal it. At least that’s what their gestures suggested.
I wandered back and forth for a while and even tried to talk to the host on the phone but no luck cuz their English was as good as my Yiddish. Which made me feel like a putz. As I was about to give up and go to a real hotel some biker cops came up and ask me if I need help. I didn’t quite trust them cuz I don’t know if cops here are dirty or not. We went in search of this house and they slowly rode down the street while I walked behind them. I was getting a police escort to my room. Lol. They had guns and I had this urge to touch the coppers’ guns cuz imma troublemaker. I kept looking at them. They were calling my name. Nooo, resist, Shelly. You will become dog sausages! The cops asked the neighbors where this mythical address was and we were sent on a wild goose chase. I’m like, fuckit, I’m calling again. I call and they answer, I say un momento and hand the phone over to the cop to talk to them directly. The whole time I’m worried he’s going to run away with my phone. They hosts fucked up the address and typed it in Airbnb wrong. Gawd damnit. We ended up finding the place but even though I had paid for the room, it wasn’t available. What the actual fuck?! They rented out my room to someone else?! They ask me how much I paid for the room, I say $11 USD. Which is weird as fuck cuz they should know that. I remember it saying they had really good reviews. This isn’t good reviews type of service, y’all. They called a neighbor, Isabel, who also does Airbnb. She didn’t have any of her Airbnb’s open but she did have a room available in her house. I asked if she had WIFI and AC. She said yes. So I’m like, ok, I’m too fucking tired to find a new place. Please don’t kill me. Lol. There was a series of 4 bedrooms that I got to pick from. I picked the bed that looked the most comfy. She changed the sheets and mopped the bathroom floor. I just walked 2 miles from the airport in 85 degrees of humid sweaty balls weather mixed in with delicious airplane stank. Time to shower!
My communication with Isabel is mostly over google translate. I ask where to get food. She said just a minute and went to change and put on a fanny pack. They’re back y’all! Lol. She ended up showing me in person to this hole in the wall cafe. No way she would be able to describe where it was. Too many gawd damn turns. They had no menus but she said they have pork. I ask if they have chicken. No chicken. Ok, how bout beef? They got beef. I have no idea what I was getting but what showed up looked delicious. I asked how much it costs. ‘Twas 9,000 pesos. At least it was about the price the money exchanger told me. The meal was a thin piece of beef, rice, yucca, salad and some sweet juice/tea. I ask her what the juice is. She decided to take a sip. I’m thinking, hmmm ok… I don’t even let humans back home do that. They all have diseases! Haha. The food was delicious. I’ve never had yucca. It tasted like a more starchy and dry potato. She said what I ate was a Colombian dish. I scarfed it down like I hadn’t eaten in days.
Before I left I locked my laptop bag, which was locked inside my other bag, and then locked that to the bed cuz I was super paranoid about getting my shit jacked. Two locks and a cable lock should deter them, I hope. But the whole day I’m just hoping that muh shit is safe or they at least leave my passport. Lol.
After the food, she asked if I want a guide. I think she was offering to take me around town. Why not, I did want to see old town. We bought a bus pass to go to old town, which was about 15-20 drive. It was 1,000 pesos for one way. I gave her two expecting to come back on the bus but didn’t. The bus driver slammed on the brakes every 3 seconds. ‘Twas annoying as hell when you are packed into a bus like sardines. I’m trying to hang onto my phone and wallet in my pocket and staying super alert. This bitch is not getting pickpocketed. Though if they took my wallet they’d get like the equivalent of $15 USD and my Metro card for LA. Lol.
We went to old town to visit the purdy architecture and ambiance.
Then we happened upon an Afro-Cuban dance. It was awesome to watch. Saw the sunset on top of a castle wall.
Ate some gelato cuz it’s hot as balls. Somehow I ended up paying for her ice cream. She made no attempt to pay. Lol, oh well, I guess it’s my service fee for hanging out all day. I felt much safer with a friendly local by my side. I haven’t seen a blond person since I got here so maybe that’s why I’m getting so many odd stares? We walked to her aunt’s store where she left her phone to charge. Then got a ride home from her brother.
Slept 12 hours. Woke up feeling like death even though I only changed like 2-3 hours in time zones. I showered, then Isabel accompanied me to eat at a fast food restaurant. Got a chicken salad. Some of the chicken was undercooked. Waaaaaa. Then we took an Uber to the harbor and said our good-byes. She said come back and visit again soon. I’d like to cuz there was a castle on a hill that I didn’t get to see!