I migrated to another beach town on the Caribbean coast when I left Cartagena. This one is much less popular on the international traveler route than Taganga. Though there are a massive amount of tourist shops selling flip-flops, jewelry, and beach accessories, these cater to the Colombia tourists coming from Medellín and Bogotá. In fact, the town is devoid of tourists outside of weekends – I wondered how the tourist shops managed to turn a profit. It reminded me of all the people working year round in tourism in Lombok, a place where the tourist season lasts for only two months.
The beach is nothing to write home about. In fact, I’ve yet to be impressed with a beach on the Caribbean coast of Colombia so far, yet I didn’t make it to Tayrona. Maybe I’m spoiled being from Florida and taking frequent trips to Trinidad. Anyway, it didn’t matter much to me because I came here to be alone. And alone I was.
You see, I’ve been looking for a place for awhile now that I could be alone for a few days with minimal contact with other people. Why? Because I think it’s a great way to recharge. Moving all the time and meeting new people on a daily basis can be a bit of an overload for me. So I took the time for myself. I banged out a lot of work, which was great because tonight I’m taking a night bus to Medellín for the Festival de las Flores, or flower festival, which should be lots of fun.
A Few Notes on Tolú
Tolú is certainly not home to Colombia’s friendliest people… in fact, it’s a far cry from other similar-sized places I’ve visited here. The men are more aggressive here than in other parts of Colombia, though not to the levels of Central America. The majority of Tolú’s residents do not have cars and instead use bikes. There are no taxis to hail, only bikes with a bench or two built onto the back. 50 cents will get you to anywhere in town. Bikes aren’t just used for transportation; they also act as slowly moving speaker boxes. Watching the sunset, you are likely to be entertained (or annoyed, depending on your temperament) by a pimped out bicycle blaring reggaeton, cumbia, or vallenato in the midst of restaurants along the seashore competing to see who can play their music the loudest. And, for some reason, the mannequins in the storefronts have the most massive boobs I have ever seen. Maybe they visited a plastic surgeon in Medellín?