Google map for Taganga:http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=es&geocode=&q=taganga+colombia&sll=11.272356,-74.154282&sspn=0.080135,0.175095&ie=UTF8&ll=11.28111,-74.256592&spn=0.160264,0.350189&z=12&iwloc=A
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Google map for Tayrona Park:
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=es&geocode=&q=tayrona+parque+colombia&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=33.160552,56.25&ie=UTF8&ll=11.272356,-74.154282&spn=0.080135,0.175095&z=13
I guess this one is further to my previous thoughts on tourist gatherings.
First, Taganga. Quite bluntly, it’s not a pleasant place. I happened to be there just to dive, and then to leave my backpack as I explored the surrounding area over the course of a week or so – Ciudad Perdida (see 2 posts before this one) and the Tayrona National Park (this post).
Taganga was probably a pleasant fishing village years ago, just 5 km but a million years away from the noise and buzz of the city of Santa Marta. But now it’s an overdeveloped centre for backpackers, with a fairly poor beach on offer – especially when there are so much better alternatives close by. So, why the crowds?, I ask. Well, I don’t know about the rock n’ roll part, but sex & drugs are definitely appealing to many around there.
Second, Tyrona National Park. I had heard great things about it, from both foreign tourists and Colombians. It’s perhaps a bit too close to Taganga (just 45 minutes away) and its appeal – great gold sand beaches surrounded by cliffs covered in tropical jungle – made me fear the crowds. But I decided to give it a try anyway.
Well, the place is indeed beautiful, but touristy. I stayed the first night in Cabo San Juan del Guía, which is 1h30 walking, in a very well marked trail, from the eastern entrance of the park. Since that area presents the best beaches for swimming (most of the others are quite exposed and have strong currents), the majority of the tourists end up gathering there…
The place looks like a pleasant camping site. Pleasant, but still a camping site. Tourists – mostly, if not exclusively, foreigners – sleep in tents and hammocks, giving to the place an atmosphere that could be anywhere in the south west coast of Portugal. (Ok, we don’t have such nice and tropical beaches, but you get what I mean). Not exactly what I was looking for.
There are some positives from being amongst a small crowd of other backpackers: it’s easy to get a group together for a barefoot football match at the end of the day, for instance. But it’s at dinner time, when everyone gets together in the only restaurant (or should I say canteen?) available that I get somehow claustrophobic. While during the day people were spread around the beach, at night you see yourself surrounded by 50 or 60 other tourists. You can easily listen to the conversations around you – some in English, most in Hebrew, but virtually none in Colombian Spanish.
I said “enough is enough” and decided to leave the next day. Despite the interesting pair of folks I happened to meet there, and even if it had been easy to get away from the crowd during the day and find a beach only for myself, the all thing wasn’t really working for me.
In the morning I chose to hike 1h uphill to visit El Pueblito, which is kind of a mini and more accessible version of Ciudad Perdida. There I found out about a trail leading to another park entry, which meant I didn’t have to return through the same way I had come in. Good. And in that direction I went.
After a few minutes walking in the jungle I find a signpost to “Playa Brava” (not the own that is shown on the maps, apparently, but another one with the same name). It was still quite early (around 10am?) so I decided to head there for a last swim before I left the Park. The trail was mostly unmarked, and it became clear that wasn’t a route travelled very often. After 1h30 of a tiring hike, a couple of wrong turns, and a close encounter with a too-big-to-be-true spider, I got to the beach. Simply beautiful and completely deserted.
Or almost. There was the local family (mother, father, 2 children, a dog and a handful of cats) that takes care of the facilities – a few cabanas with hammocks, completely empty at the time. I got directions for a waterfall near by and then came back for a surprisingly good lunch.
The man, clearly looking for a nice chat with someone new (from the visitors’ book, they have to wait a few days for anyone to show up), comes by my hammock and tells me about the story of the place. Apparently it was owned by a “drug lord” a decade ago, and he used it as cover for his main line of business: cocaine trafficking, that he shipped from Sierra Nevada (just next door) to the sea, via speed boat. He sold all his possessions when the government stroke strong against the drug business in the early 2000s, and left the country. The place is now used once in a while by Colombians on holidays, mostly from Bogotá. It’s private property and the new owner doesn’t want it to be on the National Park’s tourist map, to avoid the crowds and keep it nice and quite. I bless him, and just hope it’s not for the same reasons as his predecessor…
The beach is amazing. The hammock is relaxing. My book a good read. There is no sound other than that of the waves and a few random coconuts hitting the ground. It’s deserted, it’s perfect, and I decide to stay for the night.
It was probably my best beach day of the all trip. Food at dinner was again excellent and I ended up sharing shelter with a fisherman, who seems to be the target of the jokes of the local family, most of which about his poor fishing skills.
The stars in the sky were more brilliant than I could imagine. And around midnight the scenery became even better, with a storm and lightning approaching the sea. So, it wasn’t hard to forget about the absolute darkness – there isn’t even a generator around there – and all the animals and insects that were certainly all around us, as we slept with no mosquito nets. Not that those can protect you against the tigers that are said to inhabit the park… By the way, just joking and no worries as they surely stay away from the coast and have never attacked humans!
That was perfection. And the only thing you need to do to get a glimpse of it is to challenge yourself to move away from the crowds – sometimes, like this once, it may take not more than 2 or 3 hours – take a turn where you weren’t expecting to, and insist on following a poorly marked trail when it seems it’s taking you nowhere.
Just think different.
Cañaveral beach, 45 minutes away from the Park’s eastern entrance_
The sand is really thin. You can see it in your hand, but if you pass your fingers over it you cannot really feel it – it seems its part of your skin
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