Cartagena

December 31, 2017

When the Phoenicians ventured from Tyre to found Carthage on the North African coast several centuries before Christ, they cannot have fathomed that among the descendants of that prosperous settlement, and its contemporaneous off-spring at Novo Carthago, in what is now Spain, would be Cartagena, in what is now Colombia.

New Years Eve in Cartagena adds yet more color, pageantry, and festivity to the ubiquitous quantities that seem to be perpetually on offer. Notwithstanding weather akin to being locked inside an energized wok while breathing thru a wet sponge, the day and place were delightful.

We had initially booked an excursion to explore “Cartagena at Our Leisure”, when Rita reminded us we can explore Cartagena at our leisure without paying for an excursion to choreograph how we should explore Cartagena at our leisure.

After cancelling our tour, we instead took matters in our own hands, hopped in a taxi, put our extensive (or at least what we thought of as sufficient) Spanish to use, and after a two-hour drive through the Colombian jungle were seated blind-folded in a remote cave surrounded by armed guards shouting ransom demands in our face.

Just kidding.

Actually, within twenty minutes a very pleasant driver deposited us near the steps of the Cathedral de San Pedro Claver in the old town, from which he agreed to collect us four hours later.

In the meantime, we witnessed the last few minutes of Mass at the cathedral, named for the first Latin American saint, a man revered as minister to slaves and others among the oppressed. Busy man.

This and all other notable churches in the city closed their doors shortly after this Mass ended, their plazas converted into vast amphitheaters that by the end of the day would become mosh-pits.

The plaza at Iglesia Santo Domingo already over-flowed with crowds and revelry, a scene repeated or anticipated at every cafe, courtyard, and colonnade within and adjacent to this walled city within a city.

Meeting our reliable taxi driver a few minutes early, we drove upstream against and along the inbound celebratory hordes, gathering as if in a show of strength against the inevitable retribution of the next morning.

In a display that would make a Bostonian blush, our chauffeur, with the indifference of a man watching his mother-in-law back off a cliff in his new Mercedes, casually defied every stop sign, red light, and lane divider in Cartagena to bring us safely back to our ship.

Before boarding, we spent a few moments walking amongst an aviary through which dozens of macaws, peacocks, and flamingos roamed unhindered beside and above tourists by whom exposure has long since left them unfazed.

Our departure carried us along not only a skyline of Cartagena moderna that is of considerable size and extent, but also past a pleasant statue of the Virgin Mary that, like the Lady it depicts, offers humble benediction and inspiration to the harried seekers of leisure or commerce who periodically require such soothing.