I returned to Taganga from Parque Tayrona four days shy of my 29th birthday, the final in a rather productive decade from a personal growth perspective. Not being entirely sure of where I wanted to spend my last few weeks in Colombia I decided to hang out in Taganga for another week since I really enjoyed my life here and wasn’t keen on the idea of spending my birthday (the 19th) or Colombia’s Independence Day (the 20th) stuck on a bus. I soon realized I made the right choice as I met one of my more memorable travel buddies, Sherman the German, and also decided to tackle a longstanding fear of mine (more on that later).
More Foodie Delights
With my new friend in tow, I went out for a few drinks to Pachamama, a cozy outdoor /indoor bar and tapas restaurant, in what began the first of a four day silly drinking and eating festival at this establishment, much to the chagrin or possible amusement of the restaurant staff.
Our first day was a warm up and my introduction to Pachamama. Sherman was telling me that this place had really good cocktails and a nice atmosphere. This was a fun evening of jokes abound but I’m hesitant to include the details because they involve jokes about gunshots (this was before the Aurora shootings) and while we weren’t joking about people dying, it was more of a joke about misinterpretation, I think it would be in bad taste to include that here right now.
The second day at Pachamama however was much less controversial and actually much more fun anyway so I’ll focus on this part. After drinks the first night, Sherman and I decided to splurge and have dinner here the next. We were also quite keen on coming back to this place because we gave the bartenders some major headaches with our antics the night before. They laughed and shook their heads when they saw us but allowed us to enter. We ordered a giant feast of tapas, of the same caliber as I had last experienced in Spain. It was heaven in my belly. There was pita bread with a variety of dips representing cultures from Spain, Greece, Mexico and Morocco, french cheeses, and good ole bacon wrapped shrimp. Again I found myself saying over and over again in crazy woman fashion, “Life is so good!” The third and fourth days followed this same pattern.
My birthday arrived with a hot and sunny day and lots of well wishing messages from around the world. It was a rather low-key day spent mostly catching up with friends and family while downing a couple of breakfast mojitos. As much as I’ve learned to enjoy the present, it’s hard not to think about the future on your birthday. Especially when I find myself already knowing where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing next year (so I think now). I don’t think anything in life has prepared me for the scene that will take place for my 30thbirthday as I welcome a new decade with two new friends who are as unhinged as I am, while traveling through the Russian countryside in a little person’s car. My goal for the final year of my 20’s is to treat it like any other year: enjoy the things in life that fulfill me and not fall into the cliché of whining about turning 30. It’s not a death sentence, it’s another annual lease on this splashy adventure called life.