Everyone likes Cartagena. Ask the next person to describe the perfect Caribbean city, and chances are that it will look just like this Spanish -colonial gem to the sunny northern coast of Colombia.
Dainty Smedijzer balcons with Bougainvillea, the pastel-colored square and churches are in the boarding.
The only problem is – as everyone agrees – the cute narrow lanes of Cartagena are stuck with Mariachi -Trios and American honeymoon.
Don’t worry because I am told that if you make an effort, you can find a colonial Colombian city just as beautiful – yet you can have it all for yourself. Where can it be?
Next dawn I jump into my car-plus driver. Soon, the City Cape will be resolved in banana orchards.
Three hours later we rattle in Santa Marta, a pleasant bright harbor on a spectacular location, where the mountains of the mountains are played in the ocean.
If I drink a cafe shortage on the breeze seafront, I call my plan. The dashingly moustachio’d barista says: ‘Are you really going to Mompox? You are happy. And unfortunately. ‘
Fortunately, he explains, because I will see the ‘real Colombia’; Unfortunately, because after that everywhere else can look a little colorless.
Sean Thomas visits the city of Santa Cruz de Mompox and discovers why it – according to residents – is the ‘real’ Colombia
The nearest Starbucks, Chain Restaurant or Hotel is about 200 km from Mompox
Santa Barbara Church in Mompox is a highlight for many visitors to the city
Further and domestically. In time, the farms and pastures give place for waterways and jungle
Eventually, after a full six hour management, the Great Magdalena River expands in front of us, and we draw in my ultimate destination. Santa Cruz de Mompox. Or just ‘mompox’ for those who like it.
History hangs slowly around Mompox, like one of its many hammocks. In the 17th century, Spanish traders, with the fleeing pyratic British attacks on the coast, stabbed their fate here: building palaces, churches, warehouses, mansions.
When she was on the channel, trade evaporated, and mompox was brilliantly marched. Result – The nearest Starbucks are 200 km away, also the nearest chain hotel or hypermarket. No one complains.
There are some decorated boutique hotels and a few relaxed bars and riverbank restaurants. Safe, seasoned, delicious little mompox gets just enough tourism for it. My bijou bolt hole is a tiled, colonial palacio with green around a dive pool.
After a calming siesta, I walk out to the city and discover that, just as I hoped, there is almost nothing to do.
At dusk, the residents bring out Mahogany chairs and put them on the river and drink cold Colombiana beer.
After an hour they float to the cafes, for fresh catfish in coconut curry. Meanwhile, an owl sits in a graceful church tower, and boys play football in the Starlit Square.
Mompox’s historic center was colonized by the French in the 17th century, and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site
Sean takes out a fishing boat on the Magdalena River, with the help of a local fisherman
The next day I go out on the river – that’s what people do if they don’t stare at the river.
As the afternoon goes asleep, the boat rang by lily -cleavated crews where king fishermen swing electrically blue. A fisherman smiles, knee court in the river; The trek is so plentiful that he has to hardly work, so that he blows to us instead. His laughing children do the same.
As we go home, the captain kills the engine – to see how the tropical sun performs its nocturnal trick. With the daylight dying behind, Mompox becomes crimson, then purple, with its bell -bell theaters mirroring in the copper -colored river wax.
That Santa Marta Barista was right. Cartagena Dazzles, Santa Marta Sizzles, but Mompox Enchants
As I find my evening scoop, I think of Gabriel García Márquez’s famous words about this city: ‘Mompox does not exist, but sometimes we dream of her.’
With all due respect, I do not agree with the Great Colombian novelist. Mompox exists, beautiful and stubborn, right to the watery edge of reality.
