A Not-So-Simple Day Trip to Playa Blanca from Cartagena, Colombia

Throughout 2017, I experienced a variety of colonial seaside cities in Latin America. In February I visited Old San Juan in Puerto Rico; in March, Cartagena in Colombia; and in August, Granada in Nicaragua. Each city maintains a particular cultural attitude informed by its history yet I found many similarities: the continuous cobblestone streets of rainbow painted buildings (in Old San Juan we learned it is illegal for two adjacent buildings to be painted the same color), the breeze from the sea acting as a cooling agent for the warm weather, and an intriguing sensibility that only exists in a place that encapsulates bustling urban life paired with the laid back mindset of a beach town.

Cartagena, while beautiful in its Caribbean metropolitanism, was a disappointment when it came to actual access to the ocean. Sure, you could hop a taxi from the old city to Bocagrande for less than the cost of a NYC subway ride but, once there, the beaches have dark sand and water that look as if they came from the Long Island Sound. Not exactly the white sand beach and turquoise ocean we had imagined...

Joe investigates the beach in Bocagrande

To fulfill the "relaxing beach day" portion of our trip, I researched and landed on a day in Playa Blanca on the Isla Barú. We started our excursion early in the morning to allow time for what we understood to be an intricate process of successfully purchasing boat tickets and arriving at our island destination in a timely manner. By 8AM we were at the port, just outside of the entrance to the old wall separating the Ciudad Amurallada and Getsemani.

There were a few obstacles in play: to not get ripped off on the price of the boat trip (most everything here is negotiable and tourists tend to pay more) and to make it to Playa Blanca without any unnecessary or lengthy stops along the way. Our research had revealed that many people attempting to visit one of the islands are taken for a ride, truly, when their boat makes several stops before their destination that could add hours to the transit time. As a Spanish speaker of what was once advanced proficiency and now lingers around intermediate with the ability to understand most verbal & written communication, I was determined to score us the best deal and the most efficient route.

Arriving at the port we were flooded with local vendors selling boat tickets. Unsure of the legitimacy of these sellers, we headed further into the fray, towards the docks themselves where there were ticket booths set up. Prepared for negotiation, I approached a booth and asked for two tickets, directamente a Playa Blanca por favor, sin paradas. Straight to Playa Blanca please, no stops! The clerk offered two tickets that included a "tourist tax" and amounted to 60,000 Colombian Pesos (~20 USD) each. The tourist tax seemed superfluous but a day in paradise for $20 was fair enough for us. When I confirmed, Sin paradas? Directamente? the clerk laughed a bit but gave confirmation and we made our purchase. In retrospect, I wish I had attempted to negotiate for a better deal, knowing that the prices were somewhat fluid.

The process lacked organization as we were ushered into the loading dock and made to wait over an hour. Past 9AM by this point, I thought I heard our names called and scurried to the woman with the clipboard. It seemed like she acknowledged that we were in the right place (at the time I was concerned we were getting on the wrong boat to who knows where) and we were placed in our vessel, aptly named Cero Nervios, "zero nerves."

To be kind, the boat ride was bumpy. Roller coaster bumpy. For most of us it was a dangerous kind of fun although a few passengers clearly got more than they bargained for. It was amusing, after the first few big lurches, to see the entire passenger group rush to put their phones/cameras away for safe keeping when just seconds before the devices were outstretched through the open windows. The ride was fascinating, though, in its landscape. We passed mangroves and tiny inhabited islands. Being that during our Colombian adventure we were only able to visit Cartagena and the surrounding areas, this ride provided some insight into the rural population of the country.

Approaching (the crowded section of) Playa Blanca

Exiting the boat after the 30 minutes ride could be equated to dismounting a large horse into several inches of water. The boat slid onto the beach and the single crew member helped as I jumped into the ocean. A group of locals were waiting to begin the enduring ritual of selling products & services on the waterfront that anyone familiar with South American beaches has seen. In Playa Blanca, the most common items for sale were oysters (be careful of a hoax in which the seller shucks an oyster "for free" and then requires you to purchase) and massages (a no gracias will do).

Without a doubt, the best piece of advice we received regarding Playa Blanca was to walk at least 15 minutes down the beachfront to retire in a much quieter, less crowded part of the island. Ten minutes into the walk I almost gave up, unbelieving that serenity could lie ahead after passing by countless crowded places to rent beach chairs, teeming with day trippers like us. The walk, however, was key in bringing success to our day.

We stopped when we reached Hugo's Place, a hostel we had read about with stellar reviews. The owner, Hugo, welcomed us in and rented us two beach chairs for about 50,000 COP. ATMs do not exist on the island, and we had limited cash after our sunset watching night at the Hotel Movich the evening prior, so we enjoyed inexpensive local fish for lunch. The beach chairs were set up so close to the bright blue ocean water that we were almost immersed and the view was nearly free of any humans or boats, save for the few jet skis floating by, available for rent.

The scene at this end of the beach was a world away from the dark shores of Bocagrande and the thought of hectic life in New York - exactly what I had hoped for. Wading into the clear water and being the only person in the near vicinity was a sublime feeling. In the end, the work that went into arriving at Playa Blanca faded away and the memory that remains is of the tranquil seaside day.