The travel instructions were pretty simple: take the bus to San Onofre, then travel on to Rincón del Mar.
Reality turns out to be more a bit more complicated. Corozal airport is barely bigger than our sitting room. Three diminutive propeller planes sit quietly on the tarmac; I have arrived in one of them. There are no buses anywhere.
But, this being Colombia, people rush up to help. I am told that the bus to San Onofre departs from a place with an unpronounceable name. I need to take a taxi to get there. A tiny yellow vehicle pulls up right away.
The driver looks like Ghandi. He is very old and missing a few teeth. He drops me off at a gritty, dusty parking lot. I can’t see any buses — but what is that ramshackle windowless vehicle around the back? It is a bus, and it has been waiting for me: it leaves as soon as I get on. The part of Colombia we travel through is a long way from Medellín.
The bus pulls in on the steep main road of small rural town buzzing with stalls. Is this San Onofre? No, no, San Onofre is another 50 km! This is just the driver taking a leak. He returns to continue the journey, but the bus realises it is too tired. Its engine bubbles, then stalls. This happens again and again: every time we seem to be off, we’re not. By now, the bus is sticking out diagonally into the road, and a roar of hoots blasts from the obstructed traffic. Members of the public jump on the bus with all kinds of suggestions for the driver; none of them make any difference.
At some point all of us accept that this bus isn’t going anywhere. With the help of the public, the driver rolls the bus back, down and in. The road is uneven and the bus tilts precariously. We disembark as quickly as we can.
By the time the chauffeur has released my orange suitcase from the back of the bus, all the other passengers have disappeared into alternative forms of transport. But — this being Colombia — nobody is going to leave me in a lurch. The bus driver starts shouting at someone nearby who starts shouting at someone else who runs to a car in the distance that is just about to leave: Esta señora! Take this woman!
‘Car’ is perhaps an overstatement; the vehicle I get into has lost various body parts. It is definitely not a taxi. Even so, I squeeze into the back, between two local older women. I am an older woman myself, of course; I keep forgetting. The driver hauls my suitcase on the roof and ties it with a rope, although I am not sure how as the car doesn’t have a roof rack. As we drive through rural Colombia, I can hear my suitcase banging above me.
After about an hour, we come into San Onofre. Where do I want to be dropped off? I explain that I am en route to Rincón del Mar. Suddenly alert, the two ladies sit up and instruct the driver to stop at the square, where I can grab una carrera — a ride. That sounds good, especially since there seem to be hardly any cars in San Onofre.
In fact, there aren’t any cars in the square. But my new friends point me towards a man straddled across a large motorbike that has seen better days. I smile, shake my head, point to my suitcase which is being hauled of the roof (and now has seen better days too): you can’t take a suitcase on a motorbike, right? Wrong: the driver sweeps the suitcase in front of him on the bike. So what can I do? I climb on the back. Where are the helmets? There are no helmets. Again, this isn’t an official form of transport.
The motorbike gathers speed quickly and I clasp my arms around the driver’s substantial waist. Más lento, por favor! He either doesn’t hear me or ignores me. We sprint over an unsurfaced road full of holes and stones. It’s crazy — and fun! We encounter small herds of cows, but no people. When we enter the village I am, incredibly, still in one piece.
We stop in front of a rickety bridge that has some planks missing. My destination — Dos Aguas lodge — lies behind it. I can see that I will have to drag my suitcase over a stretch of soft sand. But no, a boy of about 10 is already offering his services. And he doesn’t drag my suitcase; he puts it on his head! I am in Rincón del Mar. I like it already.
