The only illegal substance I was offered today was a Cuban cigar

I don't know if I could ever get used to humidity. Yowsa, it's annoying! But as hot and sticky as it was today in Cartagena, Colombia, I was more comfortable than yesterday in Aruba. It has a lot to do with the fact that it didn't rain today. Still, as much as I like heat, I think it would be difficult to get used to feeling damp all the time. The forecast for today was 86 degrees with 78% humidity. Is that icky? To a West Coaster, who is much more accustomed to spelling “Colombia” with a “u,” it sure felt icky.

Despite the dewy conditions, though, we had a good time wandering around Cartagena today. And I must say, since all I knew about Cartagena was that it was (is?) majorly related to the trafficking of illegal substances, I wasn't so sure I ever needed to be within sight of it. But tourism has been recognized to be rather lucrative so the old historic parts of the city are pretty safe.

Despite our agreement with the port's taxi driver that our fare was $15, he pretended to be stunned we didn't think it was $20 when he dropped us off in front of the 16th century wall that still stands in protection of The Old City. Fortunately, we were already stopped with the car door open and I was exiting, so there was nothing he could do but take our $15 with a scowl. And this was a light blue shirted driver we were told was more reputable. Our trip back to the port from a driver wearing a yellow shirt was faster and cost $10. So much for reliable port info from the excitable Jewelry Lady.

We walked through the wall and into the maze of narrow streets, saying “No,” “No, thank you,” “Not today,” and otherwise ignoring completely the street vendors and taxi drivers offering us all sorts of jewelry, sunglasses, wooden kitchen utensils, and rides back to the ship, thus dashing any delusions that we were blending in with the locals. Maybe it was the stuffed pig wearing an Aruba t-shirt I was carrying?

Anyway, our first stop was the Palacio de la Inquisición – the site of questioning and torture of suspected heretics and witches during the Spanish Inquisition in the 18th century. Although 98% of the accompanying displays were written in Spanish, it was easy enough to decipher the purposes of the various artifacts and replicas. It was an eerily beautiful building, with a courtyard and lush trees and with a beautiful view of a nearby cathedral's dome. I was doing OK until I wandered down some stairs and into the doorway of what was likely a dungeon. It was completely empty and dark and without signage of any sort. As I stepped closer, I was overwhelmed with a need to flee. It was a very creepy feeling. I turned on my heels and told Rob, “I need to not be here.” If I didn't believe rooms have memories, I do now.

We then took to the colorful, busy, narrow streets of Old Cartagena. We walked past the Universidad de Cartagena and Rob took a picture of me and Piglet standing outside of their version of Starbucks: The Juan Valdez Cafe. A few more blocks and we were at the town's edge. We climbed up on the wall, snapped some more touristy photos, and then made our way to the Museo Naval del Caribe Cartagena de Indias. Or, as my people say, the naval museum. Not a stitch of it was in English but the building was air conditioned so I didn't care. As Rob put his high school Spanish to use, I wandered around looking at lots of displays of water ways and harbors and forts. I also learned...I think...that the same Sir Francis Drake that I learned about with reverence in the 7th grade for having likely discovered the San Francisco Bay (a rival high school was even named after him) was the same piratey guy who tried to take over Cartagena in the early days. I think the word over his wax figured likeness was “invasion.” Fascinating how different history is depending which side you are on.

Our last stop before deciding we were hot, tired, sweaty, and didn't have enough time to try to navigate the local cuisine was that historic Cartagenian rarity: The Hard Rock Cafe. Several decades ago I bought myself a t-shirt from the London restaurant. I have had no interest in similar shirts from around the world, but it occurred to me that a Cartagena one was just weird enough to warrant a stop. But, being a tightwad and even talking the young gal down a bit, I still couldn't justify spending $32 on a silly t-shirt. Instead, I ended up buying some locally made earrings at the port's terminal. Honestly, I bet I'll get a lot more use out of the earrings.

Oh, and my original impression of Cartagena being a scary place full of drug lords? Yeah, I was a little freaked out when a truck pulled up near us and two men jumped out, both wearing bullet-proof vests. One was carrying a military-style shot gun and the other flashed a seen-in-the-movies-and-they-hold-it-sideways-because-they-are-just-that-badass pistol. They stood at the ready, surveyed the scene, and then jogged ahead of us and into a store. As I was covertly snapping a photo (what else would you expect from someone carrying a stuffed pig wearing a t-shirt?), Rob calmly assessed the situation as the truck being an armored car and the men gathering a deposit. I suppose, but I still felt like I was in an Al Pacino movie, especially when we walked past a third bullet-proof vested guy who I imagine was a look-out. Even though it wasn't real, it was sort of fun to have a little bit of my Scary Colombian City image play out in front of me.

So we are now back on the ship, cruising towards the Panama Canal. According to the lecture we attended a bit ago, we will be arriving at the entrance to the canal at about 6:00am tomorrow and it will take us about 10-12 hours to pass through it. Tonight will be an early one so we can be up and dressed and on the bow to watch our entry. The rest of the day will likely be spent watching the passage from our room's balcony. We might give the free room service a try, too.