Santa Marta, Colombia

We arrived in Santa Marta with the chaos of Barranquilla and fleeing our jobs, anything but a distant memory. Greeting us at the bus station, besides the usual frantic calls and hand gestures from locals to buy their moody goods, try their food, take their buses and taxis, were many stray and less than healthy dogs. This sad scene climaxed when a wounded dog passed us by, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Not to be outdone, another dog with an obvious broken leg, followed along, lapping up any protein it could get from the spots and streaks of blood leaking from its bus station friend.

After another harried and unnecessarily confusing taxi ride to our hostel, we were settled and ready to explore this insanely hot, quaint, little seaside town. Santa Marta is much more of a port city than a picturesque tropical paradise, but what it does have, is a pleasant mix of rural/indigent Colombian culture, tourist catered cobble streets and gorgeous, little cafes and bars to relax at, while escaping the torturous heat. To explore all there is to offer, one must hit the pavement, dart through allys, tip toe around vendors, be mindful of strays, who are particularly aggressive when you are jogging and have a “no gracias” loaded and ready to go at all times, to avoid being molested by salesmen and women with everything under the sun…and yes, be prepared to sweat...

Of particular interest was a great dinner we had with new friends from Ireland, who are teaching in Santa Marta, in a sweltering alleyway, that was really only tolerable during the first few minutes of each cold beer. This much-needed dinner and vegetable intake, due to the nature of fried breads and meat that generally make up the Colombian diet, was well presented and offered us a touch of back home, coupled with local flavours and ingredients. Besides a quick scuffle between a handful of what could only be described as “stereotypical crack heads,” that sent all the Colombian women eating on the patios, rushing for the indoors, we had a lovely evening and were continuously serenaded by a variety of performers. A man on a bike with a guitar and a soulful voice, sang loudly, but solemnly during or appetizers. Following him was a boy, about 11 or maybe 13, who had a small speaker for his instrumentals and a microphone to rap into, somehow quieter than our first performer. To close out this nights performances, was a man who had a saxophone, seemingly made out of bamboo or another light weight wood. He too surprised with talent and soothing rhythms and helped bring the night to a peaceful conclusion.

My relationship with food and cooking is one of the things that excites me most about travelling and experiencing a new culture. On our first full day in Santa Marta, we spent the morning walking around and learning our new environment, but a desire that has been with me ever since entering Colombia, needed to be satisfied. Since Rebecca is a vegetarian, that meant eating separate lunches at separate restaurants, but together and I honestly think she enjoyed seeing this craving of mine satiated and every last bite satisfying all the anticipation. Mojarra Frito, a popular whole fried fish, was on the menu today and there was no way I was eating it anywhere but at a local shop, with plastic chairs and cold beer. The whole meal was 13 000 COP (about $6 CAD) and was truly everything I hoped for. Served with Plantains and extra salad, as I opted for no rice. Every part of that fish was eatable, except for the spine and its face. Even the crispy fins were delicious and the inside of its head. I am salivating right now at the very thought of the memory. The next morning we walked past another local spot and I inquired if they were serving Morjarra that day and if so how much. This meal, which I returned later that day by myself to eat, was only 10 000 COP and started with an amazing Sopa con pollo, cilantro, patata and an incredibly flavourful broth. At the time eating a boiling hot soup seemed ridiculous given the outside temperature, but it was too good not to. This place was packed and everyone sharing tables, so my table soon filled with Colombians who watched me a little as I ate. This meal also came with more potatoes, plantains of course, salad, tripe and beans. For less than 5 CAD, you just can’t go wrong and it was topped off by a service of ice-cold lime beverage to everyone. Food experiences I won’t soon forget and will forever chase…

This day did not seem to have a chance at progressing any better than lunch, but a decision to meet up with our Irish friends and dine on street food sorted that notion out right quickly. We started with a few rounds of Cervezas and then an appetizer of Colombian grilled Chorizo, while we walked to find the next course. For the girls, it was street pizza made right on a cart while we drank beer and watched. Amazingly they had an oven on the cart and a surface area big enough to work out a beautiful thin dough. As previously stated, Colombians are not big on vegetables, so a portion of the pizza was made vegetarian just for Rebecca. Worth the wait and easily manageable with a few more cervezas from one of many tiendas that litter every corner. The girls had to leave us then, so they missed out the next course of Arepas rellenas con pollo, queso, guacamole, salsa and topped with an (garlic) sauce. Arepas are basically a small pita pocket made with maiz flower and grilled on a banana leaf, before dressed and stuffed the way you like it. We both had cheese, salsa and sauce dripping down our faces, but couldn’t have cared less.

The last morning in Santa Marta started off with another early morning run and now standard chase from a stray dog. Even with the chance of having your calf torn off and contracting some horrible disease, the runs help to discover new areas by covering a lot of ground and taking random turns. An outdoor fish and meat market was discovered this way and we decided to try a get in there, even as the only gringos in sight…which makes for having a nice camera out and even navigating the busy market streets and stalls more than a slight concern. We walked with trepidation, but found the best way to be able to photograph any of it, was to just ask and interact in our rudimentary Spanish with vendors and they were delighted to have us there. Local morning markets are an incredible way to get a sense of how the community works, interacts and depends on each other for survival in a rural, desperate and at times, seemingly forgotten, area of their own country.

View more pictures of Santa Marta by clicking the Photography tab at the top of the page.