If hell has a measurable temperature, I’m pretty sure it’s the same as the temperature in Cartagena today. I keep thinking there is something dripping on me from above… turns out it’s ME dripping on me. It’s not a gentle glow, either. It’s full on make-up sliding off my face, hair frazzled out to HERE, can’t get enough water to drink, hot. And this is from someone who likes the heat. All around me men and women alike are dressed in jeans, and I’m just barely hanging in there in a tank top and shorts. Note to self… next time choose the accommodation with pool. At least I had the good sense to get a room with A/C…the loudest A/C in the western world, but air conditioning none the less.
Despite being so hot I’ve nearly lost the desire to eat, I signed up for a street food tour, which takes place in my neighborhood and is lead by Kristy, an Aussie who relocated to Cartagena and now runs Cartagena Connections. Since arriving in Cartagena yesterday, I’ve been intrigued by the various fried goodies and strange fruit for sale on every street. Today I hoped to find out what it all was. Wouldn’t you know it… just like the subway tour in Moscow, the tour guide never showed. When my land lady called her, she brushed her off. Lesson learned… when you have a nagging suspicion that you should follow up with someone, do it.
So now I’m hot and hungry… but at least I’m also 60,000 COP richer… that’s $30 for anyone keeping track. I’m trying hard to remember to go with the flow. 🙂