No rest, heaven awaits us. Before leaving we enjoy a good coffee mocha coffee with Rafael that we prepared and we eat mangoes that Victor has picked from the garden. We leave the bulk of our business in the house, take only our small backpacks with next to nothing in and take a minibus to the city center, before we climbed Victor ensures that the driver drop of good market Hence we can take another bus to the park entrance. We arrive at the heart of the market still dirty from the previous day, with the heat rising odors, purgatory before paradise? The bus is here, wisely we expect it to fill. Twenty minutes to simmer in the heat of the bus and finally we leave the purgatory, the wind rushes through the windows wide open and quickly cools the air. We cross a few problems areas bordering any city. Gradually the houses goes missing blocks, pavements are cleaner and green, the trees make their appearances. On our left the jungle on our right the Sierra Nevada. Thirty miles further bus let go, that's it we are there. A few more steps, a few pesos and we have our ticket for the coconuts, white sand and the turquoise sea. We pay our entrance fee much higher for foreigners, it gives us a pretty bracelet to keep the time of our stay. But before crossing the barrier we must open our bags, like the couple in front of us. For us it will be fast, is more problematic for them, the young man is Colombian, manufactures craft and has a good stock of bracelets, hats and other trinkets that you find on every self-respecting tourist spots. The goalkeeper makes his junk repack, prohibiting her from selling the site which is located in a national park. Our craftsman argues that it is not there to sell but to prepare a festival. Nothing to do his b 
Abiola and equipment will have to wait her out of the park. Still 10 km before the beach, two solutions: to walk along a paved road in the heavy heat and humid jungle, or pay a taxi to take us to the end of the road. We choose the taxi and an old pickup dating from between the wars comes spluttering and smoking. We load the bags, the driver restarts his old jalopy over, we start with a nice roar of diesel and a beautiful plume of black smoke. We finish the journey on foot through a heavily wooded path to the various sounds of the forest, the Amazon back memories. The light step back and sweating we finally arrived on the beach just in time for sunset. No chance we are facing due east and the sun is already behind the mountain. We return to the campsite, the closest there is a luxury hotel in the park and found two hammocks for the night, we put our business back on the beach to enjoy the last light of day in love's hand in hand, feet in the water, listening to the waves, losing our gaze into the starry sky. We reach a corner of paradise, but the happiness is short drive ed, we're hungry ... Our stomach gets back to restaurant the beach. We meet and Hélène Florent, French guests very friendly. Sated we will swing in our hammocks and dreaming of white sand and warm but with the idea of waking up at dawn to watch the sunrise, having benefited from his bed. It is 4:30 ET we're back foot in the white sand for a sunrise worthy of the finest posters on display in the first tour operator nearest to you. After all the emotions we go back to bed.
I'll spare you the details of these two days of intense activities in this place where the turquoise water mingles white sand licking huge round rocks emerging sandbars backdrop of virgin forest. Moreover nothing to spoil this atmosphere, the beaches are deserted. We will find another place to swing our hammocks among old-timers who are settled there for many years. They were well Penard the siblings before the Colombian government does not leave the management to a private company and settle other campground owners to the tune of baksheesh. Maybe we live the last years of this paradise lost soon ... Their site is not maintained very small family but a little crazy is really nice. The last day one of the brothers learn a few steps from salsa Laetitia while we await a deluge of rain and tropical
ceases. Even in paradise Heaven has its quirks, this gives an alternative view i which would be interested in our dreamscape, but prevent us from exploring the jungle. The rain lasted three hours and we will have to walk the walk we will return with Marielle, a French expatriate in Quebec. Resuming an old taco to join the main road from there a bus that drops us at the market in Santa Marta. time to do some shopping in town to eat and what to drink tonight Marielle and Florent come to eat at home. The time to install, Victor tells us that tonight is her birthday. We are preparing the grub and invite Victor and his buddy to share a meal with us. Marielle and Florent arrive independently of each other. Good evening to get to know us and toast to 50 years of Victor. It will not stay long with us. Slowly the conversation is ongoing and sometimes even on her favorite topic of expatriates - Marielle 5 years, Florent over 15 years and we've only been 10 months - Our dear and loving home that we all left for some time. The result is that France is seen from afar not as beautiful and romantic that foreign tourists would have us believe! Especially when it comes to the next star system and neo-capitalist of our new super president and his government. Short between leftists and after many cervezas, we agree with France, Europe and the world go wrong. On this observation we go to bed and maybe we'll dream of a world less selfish, consumerist, and hast thou seen perhaps another revolution useless ...
The next day, we spend our stroll in town, eating ice cream on the seafront, wander the shops for tourists, go to museum museum : All closed on Sunday and forget our good resolutions revolutionaries of yesterday. Back home in the cart loaded commissions. We discuss anything and everything in us swinging in the hammocks. Meanwhile Marielle we prepare a nice meal with seafood that we enjoy around a nice cold bottle of white. Happiness and satiety. Just
time separations, little by little the house is empty. Florent was going back to continue his southern sojourn of several months in Colombia, Marielle share further north perhaps we shall find on the road in Central America. It is noon, we catch a bus leaving in the direction of Cartagena. Is not as the first class bus, but it is early and not much in demand.
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