On my way to San Andres, Colombia
Another five days of monotonous routine and solitary introspection at sea. No matter, the excitement can always wait until after I have set my anchor.
Though it does make me wonder how other crews manage similar voyages. If a couple, I don’t suppose it makes much difference. One is on watch while the other sleeps. I guess you need at least three to make passage making a sociable event, otherwise it’s inevitable there will be long hours of solitude.
I wonder whether too much of this is healthy.
Fortunately, in San Andres, there were plenty of opportunities to socialise.
Nene’s Marina certainly has character.
My first impressions were positive. How could they have been otherwise when the first words directed at me (in English), as I anchored off Nene’s Marina were; “I admire you”.
That from the captain of a motor launch slowing for a closer look at Eileen.
I must say, being seen on a Yarmouth23 certainly does have its advantages. Too bad I can’t take her with me everywhere and prolong the admiration. All too soon I’m relegated the to the lofty status of “Mr Nobody” from the moment I step ashore.
Or even before I step ashore, given that I have to paddle there on my humble kayak.
Which, come to think of it, is just the way I want it to be.
Being nobody I get to:
Life is a beach in San Andres
Unobtrusively take photos of fellow nobody’s at the beach;
Wandering about town…
or in town for that matter.
I only went there looking for Aguila girls!
Be proverbially growled at for sitting too close to the supposedly reserved VIP section of the bar in this establishment (where only the “beautiful people” are supposed to party).
Don’t even contemplate it buddy!
Be literally growled at for wanting to sit too close to the section of the wall reserved for dexterous local fauna…
I’m busy…. Doing nothing…
Do nothing… other than sit and patiently wait out the bad weather…. (growling).
My conclusion?
A pleasant stopover. Somewhat bureaucratic (especially for sailors), with a distinct social dichotomy between tourists and locals. But is that not the norm?
I’d have only seen the one side (guess which), had I not chanced upon a resident sailor who took it upon himself to show me the “real” San Andres.
And where is this real San Andres?
All over… It’s where you get to enjoy good company, good food, good wine, and great music, without having to call for “la cuenta por favor” before you leave.
With a little help I was able to see the real San Andres
It’s in the houses and homes… not the hotels.
A rare privilege indeed Damien.
Thanks!
