Maybe secluded bays and pristine beaches aren’t the first things that pop into people’s head when they think of Colombia, but a trip to Colombia’s Caribbean coast reveals just that. And the best part? No tourists.

By Matt Stabile

AS I LOOKED OUT THE BUS WINDOW AND INTO THE NIGHT SKY, I could see flashes of lightning igniting the dark, colorless clouds lingering high above the Caribbean Sea, portensions of things to come. It was Friday night. Cumbia music was blasting from a radio hanging by a wire above the driver’s head. Behind me a teenage girl was meticulously applying makeup with the aid of a small compact mirror. Two seats in front of me, a group of young Colombian men were drinking from an open bottle and joking around with each other. I peeled my shirt away from my chest, damp from a combination of a slight drizzle and the tropical humidity that had blanketed my body the moment I stepped off the plane, and I couldn’t have been happier. I had traveled here to Colombia’s Caribbean coastline to visit its famously beautiful and remote beaches — beaches whose mythic-like images were planted enticingly in my mind by travelers during cold, rainy nights in Bogotá hostels and Medellín cafes; usually described in hushed tones, like the disclosure of the whereabouts of a lost city that few had seen.

It was only fitting that the rain began to fall the minute that I stepped off the plane. At first it was a light drizzle, but as the hours wore on, the rain progressed into what I would soon learn was an once-in-a-decade “weather phenomena” that, during the course of my stay along the coastline, would cause rivers to overflow, shantytowns to flood, city streets to become deluged and hidden beneath torrents of water flowing from the nearby mountains, and for me to seriously question what vendetta had I with the gods that was causing this storm to strike during the exact period of time that I was staying there.

The good thing about rain, particularly the kind that falls in the warm, humid months of November and December here, is that it’s still far better to be caught in than, say, a snowstorm in the icy, frigid streets back in New York where, had I been at that exact moment, I would certainly not be wandering around in a pair of swimming trunks and sandals, stopping into various shops, and lounging on the beach with a concoction of freshly squeezed coconut and orange juice served in a plastic mug shaped like a coconut shell.

“When do you think it ends?” I asked a bored barista the next morning, shortly after I had ordered my third straight cup of coffee. (more…)

One of the hard working ladies from “The Lost Girls” is/was in Colombia recently, blogging her way through the northern stretches of the country. Her latest dispatch finds her taking a side-trip to Santa Marta where she lounges on the beaches in Santa Marta and soaks up some rays.

Though mentioned in passing in her article, the real reason to visit Santa Marta is not for its beaches (a little touristy, a little bland) but as a place to stay so you can strike out for Tayrona National Park, Colombia’s renowned reserve containing beautifully secluded, pristine beaches where you can snorkel, eat fresh fish caught earlier that morning, and relax and enjoy your time hours from the closest hotel. Given that the park is made up of isolated beaches and coves accessible by a single road, you could easily spend weeks just trying to see all of the park’s different sites. My advice: sleep in Santa Marta, spend your time exploring Tayrona.

One note on this piece, what really stuck out for me was the fact that she was staying at the Sofitel in Cartagena (I think, she may have just been using their concierge). Though amazingly luxurious, it just seems a little odd given that this is a city where a pretty okay room can be had for as little as $10 a night (hot water may be lacking, but when looking at rates of over $300, I’ll stick with the budget hotels). Besides, the real attraction is the city itself, and as much time away from your lodgings is highly recommended. Or maybe things over at Lost Girls are going the Twitter route and the ladies have a few extra dollars to spare, in which case, Sofitel away.