Hello and happy Thursday. I bring you part 3 of my “Meeting Foreigners” mini series, and I hope you’re enjoying reading about these stories as much as I enjoy telling them.
Last time I told you about how my Monday night in Cartagena ended up, so now let’s talk about Tuesday night, which was our last one there. In my last two posts I mentioned Sebastian, a friend I traveled with, but I was also joined by Felipe, who on Monday had dinner plans with some guys he met at the beach earlier that day. On Tuesday, though, the three of us were together, at least for most of the night.
Monday night had been good, and I had this idea that Tuesday would be better. We had dinner reservations at this cute restaurant in Getsemani because of Felipe’s birthday on Wednesday, so we planned to go to the town square after dinner and basically sit down and meet foreigners just like we’d done the previous day.
We had dinner at Di Silvio, and it was the best pizza I’d had in a while (probably because it wasn’t made with chia or almond flour…this was a real pizza and we each ate a whole pie). We then went to the town square and immediately noticed it had way less people than the previous day, but that didn’t worry me because I thought it probably was because on Tuesday more clubs are open. We decided we’d go to this club in Getsemani a guy on Tinder suggested and then maybe we’d go to this gay bar at Centro Histórico.
The mood in the town square wasn’t really like the one we’d experienced on Monday. There were less backpackers and more families or older couples chilling there. One of those older couples was the one Felipe had met the previous day on the beach, so we approached them, just to say hi and ended up talking to them for about 20 minutes until we all got desperate to go. They left with us and actually walked us to the bar I’d been suggested.
It was still early, so I understood why the club was nearly empty when we got there, but I wasn’t just going to stick around and wait until it had a decent amount of people. We decided, then to walk from there, in Getsemani, to the gay bar my friends wanted to visit. It wasn’t the longest walk but I was wearing wedges and my feet were starting to hurt, which is something you don’t want when you are planning to dance. Luckily, when we got to the bar, we all had a chance to sit down. Felipe bought a beer for himself and I was able to rest my feet while he drank it. Turns out that bar was dead too. There were people but nobody was dancing. Again, I was starting to grow impatient.
After about twenty minutes sitting down and doing nothing else, each looking at Tinder (them looking at Grindr) and trying to find a way to make the night better, I declared I wanted to go back to Getsemani. At least there we could sit down and maybe meet someone.
Back in Getsemani, we sat down in the town square (again!) and Felipe ditched us to go meet a guy (again!). Next to us was a guy I thought looked cute. He looked like your typical American guy, all broad-shouldered and big and muscular. Then he talked to us. In Spanish. Turns out he was Argentinian, and not even from Buenos Aires, which Sebastian and I have visited together. No, he was from Cordoba.
We started talking to him. He told us his name was Juan and he’d been staying in Cartagena for over three weeks but he was planning on moving to Medellin to be a cook. I literally couldn’t understand three out of four words he said; I’m not sure if it’s because he was drunk or high or if his accent was just like that, but man, he was annoying me. Just like Roman, he talked A LOT, but I didn’t think he was as cute or interesting. I stuck around only because I didn’t have any other place to go.
At some point Juan decided he wanted something to eat (is it just me or are backpackers always hungry?) and he left us there. Our night wasn’t over though, we were missing one last bit I’ll tell you about in tomorrow’s post. In the meantime, let me know what you like to do at night when you’re traveling. Do you go out to dance? Have dinner? Stay in sleeping?
Love, Miss Camila