Colombia marks the first time I've actually been backpacking on this extended trip. My previous stints in Bolivia, Mexico, and Cuba all had some sort of planned agenda with a definitive end-point. From here on out there are no plans until May 22nd when I fly to Puerto Rico for a wedding.
Through purely luck I chose to fly into Cartagena. I had been to Cartagena 5 years ago and knew it was a pleasant place near the water, but its location on the northern coast near Panama makes it the perfect starting point for a trip heading south.
At this point in my traveling career I have become more or less accustomed to the abrupt culture changes when arriving at a new place or returning back home. But stepping into a Colombian supermarket was a culture shock. There were just so many things to buy, an aura of consumerism pulsated from the shelves of cereal, shampoo, and fresh vegetables. I walked around for 15 minutes just admiring the surplus of consumables, basking in the glow of 3x2 lighter packages.
It is always a little intimidating whenever you first arrive in a place where you know no one. Similar to my nervousness during take-off, that first hour in a hostel is just a bit uneasy. You check in, choose your bunk, set your bags down, and then... now what? I usually walk around for a bit, check the internet, read/relax, and wait for the evening. People tend to be more sociable after they have recovered from the previous night's adventures and are beginning the next chapter. Once you meet that first group of friends it is smooth sailing, you just have to get there.
In my opinion, the most important aspect of a backpackers hostel is its ability to facilitate interactions between its guests. People travel to see new places, but they want to meet new people too. A hostel should not be too large -- if there are too many people smaller groups will coagulate and it tends to become a bit more cliquey -- but there needs to be enough people to make a fun group.
Mamallena, my second hostal in Cartagena, was a fantastic backpacker's hostel. Cartagena as a whole wasn't the cheapest of places, but a dorm bed for $15/night was reasonable for the area. Decent Wifi, pancake breakfasts, and a bar with 2x1 cocktails were all comfortable perks.
But the common area made the hostel: a narrow garden filled with wooden tables, lounge chairs, and no restrictions on outsiders. Hostels often have a strict policy of no entry for those who are not staying there. When I talked to the owner, his logic was that by inviting everyone in, non-guests who had a fun time would be more likely to stay and tell their friends. Makes sense to me. Because of this policy, everyone in Cartagena knows that the Mamallena garden is the place to meet up before going out.
The backpacking circuit is a lot like the first week of college. You are exposed to a large group of new peers looking to meet people, you answer the same questions over and over (where are you from, where have you been/going), and there is copious amounts of alcohol. Relationships develop at hyper-speed: you go from strangers to good friends within a matter of hours, spend a few days together, and when you part ways you will likely never see each other again. Pack up your backpack, grab the bus to the next stop, rinse and repeat. Inevitably backpackers will clump together: people tend to be traveling on similar routes and it is nice to have some consistency traveling with a group of friends. Which segues nicely into what I have been up to the past 3 weeks.
Through purely luck I chose to fly into Cartagena. I had been to Cartagena 5 years ago and knew it was a pleasant place near the water, but its location on the northern coast near Panama makes it the perfect starting point for a trip heading south.
At this point in my traveling career I have become more or less accustomed to the abrupt culture changes when arriving at a new place or returning back home. But stepping into a Colombian supermarket was a culture shock. There were just so many things to buy, an aura of consumerism pulsated from the shelves of cereal, shampoo, and fresh vegetables. I walked around for 15 minutes just admiring the surplus of consumables, basking in the glow of 3x2 lighter packages.
It is always a little intimidating whenever you first arrive in a place where you know no one. Similar to my nervousness during take-off, that first hour in a hostel is just a bit uneasy. You check in, choose your bunk, set your bags down, and then... now what? I usually walk around for a bit, check the internet, read/relax, and wait for the evening. People tend to be more sociable after they have recovered from the previous night's adventures and are beginning the next chapter. Once you meet that first group of friends it is smooth sailing, you just have to get there.
In my opinion, the most important aspect of a backpackers hostel is its ability to facilitate interactions between its guests. People travel to see new places, but they want to meet new people too. A hostel should not be too large -- if there are too many people smaller groups will coagulate and it tends to become a bit more cliquey -- but there needs to be enough people to make a fun group.
Mamallena, my second hostal in Cartagena, was a fantastic backpacker's hostel. Cartagena as a whole wasn't the cheapest of places, but a dorm bed for $15/night was reasonable for the area. Decent Wifi, pancake breakfasts, and a bar with 2x1 cocktails were all comfortable perks.
But the common area made the hostel: a narrow garden filled with wooden tables, lounge chairs, and no restrictions on outsiders. Hostels often have a strict policy of no entry for those who are not staying there. When I talked to the owner, his logic was that by inviting everyone in, non-guests who had a fun time would be more likely to stay and tell their friends. Makes sense to me. Because of this policy, everyone in Cartagena knows that the Mamallena garden is the place to meet up before going out.
The backpacking circuit is a lot like the first week of college. You are exposed to a large group of new peers looking to meet people, you answer the same questions over and over (where are you from, where have you been/going), and there is copious amounts of alcohol. Relationships develop at hyper-speed: you go from strangers to good friends within a matter of hours, spend a few days together, and when you part ways you will likely never see each other again. Pack up your backpack, grab the bus to the next stop, rinse and repeat. Inevitably backpackers will clump together: people tend to be traveling on similar routes and it is nice to have some consistency traveling with a group of friends. Which segues nicely into what I have been up to the past 3 weeks.
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