Can the back of your palms sweat?

That´s how hot it is in Santa Marta, south up the coast from Cartagena, pass Barranquilla, the birthplace of Shakira. I get myself a tiny stinking hot room and check out the beach, so so. The town is smallish and nice but i had a better time on the beaches which were a hop skip and jump away, where i´d go for the day. There i also immersed myself in Vallenato which was blaring from the shopfront in front of my hostel and where i danced on the pavement with my newly acquired Colombian friends. Vallenato is a kind of traditional Colombian music which is beautiful to listen and dance to, more popular in some parts of the country than others. Lots of other music was available to listen to which had more black coastal beats. Vallenato, like most music i hear here, has always a love story to tell, and being serenaded was a hoot.

Something happens when you reach the sea and the tropical air, you take off most of your clothes and then your watch because you no longer need to know what time it is, except for sundown, sleeping and feeding time, and time to dance and sing.

Here i also met my travelling companions that i would have for the following weeks. Eduardo and Eduardo It seems since we met we´ve been inseperable. Meet Eduardo and Eduardo accompanied by their respective 3 year olds. Colombians living in France and right now holidaying the nasty dangerous colombia. We´re an incredible gang - so funny when they´d get mistaken for foreigners, or when i´d get mistaken as the mother of their children... Together we visited these nearby beaches where we´d have to get a little boat, the only means, and plant our buts for the day in the sun, indulging. I´d dip into the serene crystal waters, lay in the sun, dip in again and again, let myself be washed up by the waves and then indulge in fresh fish, fried banana and rice. I was being so spoilt i had a permanent grin that left tan lines. I saw the 2 kids find 5 hours of fun picking up and throwing sand. I also saw the same two beat each other up, and even when one was told off, she looked up and then lay another kick in. We went to another beach too called Rodadero, tiny and spiffy with high rise hotels. Beach was crowded more with vendors than anything. It was a bit too much in the end, not a minute of peace, but what do you say to someone who´s trying to scrape a living. Every 5 minutes they´d pass, selling ice cream, necklaces, coconut juice, hard unripened mango with salt, sunglasses, beach toys, chewing gum and lollies, massages, braids, more jewelery, ceviche of fish or prawns, beer, coke, and a whole lot more, only to pass by again and again for the rest of the day... But i was grateful for the 5 piece band who came by and sang for us, and little ol me especially, some vallenato tunes as the sun set. Divino!

We returned to Cartagena where Eduardo and his other mate had access to a high rise apartment overlooking a beach that i hadn´t managed to get to last time i was there. Then we head off north down the coast to Golfo de Moroquilla and land in a village called Sispatà. The only gringa in town and you´d have trouble finding it on the map, however the beaches are a summer holiday destination for Paisas (people from Medillin). There we stayed with Eduardo´s brother who lives there now, and, just like the rest of them, a lifelong traveller Ruben has been everywhere. Conditions were modest to say the least but welcoming and hospitable. Six in a room where we had to keep the door closed because of the bloodsucking nasties - but to no avail. I´ve never been so badly bitten nor itchy in my life. What remained was to spend more time in the sea being washed up again on the golden beach, mmmm. Ruben had an old jeep sleeping in the driveway, but with in a day the fellas had it coughing up and ready to get on the road, unregistered and all that, which later on got us in a bid of a bind with the police who we had to sweet talk. But with this beauty, all 7 of us, we manage to take some interesting rides and got to travel to some of the rivers and take a boat through the mangroves... geeez it was magical. Drinking whisky or rum on the beach, eating homecooked meals, yummy yuka, platano and hot chocolate drink.