Colombia's Caribbean coast - white sand and glass waves?
- michaelmarquardt07
- Jan 21
- 6 min read
After a few weeks in the Colombian highlands, we now want to head towards the Caribbean coast. Micha, in particular, has been looking forward to the sea for months.
36 degrees and it's getting even hotter
We notice several hundred kilometers before reaching the Caribbean. The climate is getting warmer, and the nights are truly uncomfortable for sleeping. Despite fans and ventilation, the camper just won't cool down at night. We end up sleeping with the door open after building a special contraption to keep out mosquitoes. They're becoming increasingly numerous here and seem to have a particular fondness for Micha.
The drive to the coast costs us several days and even more nerves. Every single day of driving is exhausting, even though we only drive for a total of three or four hours a day.
Sunday is the last straw. We start off with roadworks right around the corner from the campsite. The detour takes us through the narrow, steep streets of Santa Fe de Antioquia's old town. What we deliberately avoided the day before, we now can't avoid. Without low-range gearing, we wouldn't be able to climb some of the narrow streets with our weight. It seems they have different road construction regulations here than in Europe (or maybe none at all :-)). Further along the route, we encounter countless police checkpoints, a farmers' strike (resulting in a two-hour wait at a bridge), and even a fatal accident. What was planned as a two-hour journey stretches to almost six. Our nerves are frayed! Diego, of course, has no patience for such long drives.
Mosquitoes, boomboxes and heat – our biggest challenges
The two nights spent traveling the route were anything but pleasant. We slept more or less at emergency stops because there were no campsites along the way. The first overnight spot in the residential area of Santa Fe de Antioquia promised a peaceful night. We had a pool and a beautiful garden with tropical fruits—unfortunately, the neighbor across the hall partied all night. The boomboxes blared at full volume until 6 a.m. I tried to make contact to complain (I knew it was pointless), but no one heard me. Of course :-)
The second night wasn't much better. We spent the night at a gas station where trucks were constantly coming and going. Hopefully, it would be quieter on the coast (of course, it never is; in South America, they just like to be loud).
Our first stop was Nicocli, a small, colorful village near the border with Panama. The sea was disappointingly murky, probably due to the end of the rainy season. Still, it felt good to be by the sea. We bathe for hours in the lukewarm water and enjoy fresh coconuts. Another plus: boomboxes are forbidden at our campsite :-)
In search of the perfect wave
Now it's time for our first surf spot. Micha's real goal. There are practically no "real" campsites along the coast. Our strategy is to ask at nice accommodations if we can park in the garden or on the private beach and use their facilities (pool, shower, Wi-Fi, etc.). And finally, we found the perfect spot near San Bernardo del Viento. According to the surf app, the waves are too small for surfing. But it's always turned out that we can't rely on those kinds of predictions. With our (lack of) skill, you never know where it'll actually work. And of course, every beginning is difficult. After all, we haven't been on a board for over a year. Micha is doing pretty well. I'm struggling more. But above all, I lack the necessary willpower. My tolerance for suffering is severely limited. If my board flies off and hits me in the head during a surf session, I get bitten by a bug, and I end up in the "washing machine" five times, then I've had enough. The place is still very beautiful, though. We're parked in the middle of a garden under coconut palms, 20 meters from the sandy beach, and we have a pool, showers, and even a restaurant at our disposal. Well, the restaurant is a bit of a mixed bag. Service in Colombia is generally poor, and even worse on the coast. Untrained staff, poor communication, no business sense. It's frustrating when I order a soft drink and don't get a glass with my plastic bottle, when my food arrives without cutlery, when only one of the ten items on the menu is available, and when part of my order is almost always completely forgotten. Most of the time we cook for ourselves anyway. That's what we prefer, apart from the fact that we want to avoid any heat sources in the car in this heat.
Beautiful Panama, colorful Mexico, or cold Germany?
We're using these quiet days, free from the stress of driving and shopping, to make a long overdue decision. Where should our journey take us next?
If we want to continue north from Colombia, we'll inevitably have to ship our car—either to Panama, Mexico, or directly home.
We quickly dismissed the option of staying on the South American continent, as Venezuela isn't a viable travel option at the moment, and we don't want to go south again. And after three months, we've had enough of Colombia, at least I have. We've seen some beautiful places in the country. The people are very hospitable, and the food is delicious. To be honest, there aren't really any true natural highlights. At least not compared to what we've already seen in South America. Of course, the Tatacoa Desert is beautiful, but it doesn't compare to the Atacama Desert in Chile. Of course, the Caribbean coast is beautiful, but it doesn't compare to the beaches of Aruba or the surf spots in Peru or Ecuador. Of course, the highlands are beautiful, but they don't compare to the lush greenery of Ecuador or the endless expanses of Argentina. Well, maybe that's just complaining about a first-world problem.
After many days of heated discussions, the decision has been made. We're shipping our car to Veracruz, Mexico. We want to focus on the southern part of this vast country, as well as Belize and Guatemala. This also means that we have to drop off our car at the port of Cartagena at the beginning of January. So we only have a limited amount of time left in Colombia. We want to spend it on the coast, at the best surf spots (which we still have to find).
On the Island
On our way, we'll visit the islands of the San Bernardo Archipelago. They promise turquoise waters and white sandy beaches, just an hour from the coast. Sounds good! We book a hotel and a boat trip. When choosing the hotel, we made sure there weren't any "party spots" nearby. We're fed up with boomboxes and sleepless nights; the research definitely paid off. We're on the quieter side of Tintipan Island in a small, charming hotel. It's a short boat ride to the main beach. After just a few minutes there, we're glad we're not staying there. The first boats start arriving at 9 a.m. By 11 a.m., the entire beach is packed with boats, each one louder than the next, and hundreds of tourists. Cocktails, food, massages, haircuts, and other things are being sold everywhere. If you've forgotten your boombox, you can rent one on site. Once again, it's like so often: The islands are very beautiful, but the way tourism is run here, and the target audience, are repugnant to us!
Endless surfing
Now we continue east along the Caribbean coast. Micha has picked out a few more potential surf spots, all near Palomino. When we reach the first one, we're shocked by how big the waves are. Swimming is forbidden, by the way, because of the strong currents. Micha, however, is undeterred and tries his luck at several different times of day. Disappointing. I don't even dare go into the ocean without a surf coach. We both quickly come down to earth. The beach is probably for advanced surfers, says Aldo, my surf instructor. And the Caribbean is more challenging than the Pacific anyway. Well then, we continue practicing paddling every day—at least it's a good workout. In total, we spend over a month on the coast. We make progress, but at some point, our surfboard breaks. A sign?
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