What immediately makes me think of pirates, rum and Johnny Depp can only be a good thing. Cartagena was the city I had been looking forward to most because of its beautiful old town and proximity to the sea.
Cali was on my (very vague) itinerary from the very beginning. It claims to be the capital of salsa and Lonely Planet describes it as a pulsing city that offers everything other cities only promise, so naturally I had to go. It is situated in the Valle del Cauca and one of Colombia’s agricultural centers. More interestingly, it was home to one of the big drug cartels not so long ago, which is possibly why inhabitants take extra security measures, like manned gates in some of the nicer neighbourhoods.
This is a reminder that there is such a thing as taking too many precautions. It’s also a story in which a bra is the culprit.
It seems so innocent, but don’t be fooled.
That or something along those lines was often the reaction when I told someone about my upcoming solo four-week trip to Colombia. When I say “often”, I mean when I told my grandpa, but there was definitely some consternation accompanied by a whole lot of warnings. I got messages from people, who usually don’t keep in touch much warning me to be careful and not to trust anyone. What worried everyone most, was that I was going to go alone.