I was looking forward to visiting Cartagena, then exploring the coffee region from Medellín, and ultimately ending the trip with several days at Calanoa Lodge on the Amazon close to where Colombia, Peru and Brazil come together. I had no idea that six days later the adventure would explode into a whirlwind effort to get out of Colombia and back to Costa Rica.
On the morning of March 15, just outside the hostel near PNN Tayrona, I flagged down a bus for Santa Marta. In Santa Marta, I took a second bus to Barranquilla where I was spending the night in a small hotel before moving on to Cartagena. The drive along the coast was beautiful and otherwise not particularly eventful.
On March 16 at 8:30 AM, I boarded what would be my last bus in Colombia for the two plus hour trip to Cartagena. The situation began to change before I left the hotel that morning. I received an email from a Colombian bird guide in Manizales. He informed me that the park where we were going was closing and that there were rumors that roads in and out of the area around Manizales would also be closing soon. That started the chain of events that sent me flying out of Colombia.
Within the next couple of hours, I received an email from my friend in Costa Rica telling me that Costa Rica was closing its borders at 11:59 PM on March 18. That was a little more than two days away.
That email came shortly before I arrived at the Life Is Good Hostel in Cartagena. A very ironic name given what happened next. When I walked into the hostel, a couple of people were solemnly sitting near the entry with their bags packed. The equally solemn desk clerk explained that he regrettably had to inform me that a guest was exhibiting virus symptoms. He handed me a one-page sheet stated that if I wanted to stay, I had to sign and acknowledge that I had been properly advised. The clerk then told me that his honest advice was to leave and stay elsewhere. I asked if he had any suggestions to which he replied perhaps an Air B&B. My head was spinning now so I asked him to give me a minute to think about it. I felt like literally a minute was all I had to make a decision.
When I caught my breath, I figured I had three choices which did NOT include staying at this hostel:
1. Go to the U.S. The problem with that choice was that I had no home in the U.S. I would either have to crash with family or friends, or stay in a hotel. Given the growing number of virus cases at that point, none of these seemed like a very good idea and I certainly did not want to put family or friends at risk.
2. Stay in Colombia. I really liked this option. I was loving the country and it was extremely cheap. I thought I could hide out somewhere in Colombia for a couple of months until everything calmed. Two major concerns pushed back against this choice. First, I really did not know how long this would last. What if it lasted three months or six months? Second, the country was already closing. Parks, beaches, bars, restaurants, etc. all were closing right before my eyes. If I stayed, I would more or less be pinned up in some unfamiliar place.
3. Return to Costa Rica. I thought I could probably change my flight for April 27 and return to Costa Rica early. At least in Costa Rica, I had my own apartment. If I had to stay in place, it would be the most comfortable and the least imposing on family and friends, so I went with it.
I kindly thanked the desk clerk, walked out of the hostel less than fifteen minutes after I had arrived and flagged down a taxi for the airport. This was early-afternoon on March 16.
When I arrived at the Cartagena airport, it was in chaos. After wandering around for a few minutes, I found the Avianca “office”. There were two agents dealing with a line of at least 100 people. I got in the line but thought I could call Avianca and make the flight change that way. Not a chance. I did discover through the Avianca app that there were flights leaving Cartagena for Bogotá onward to San José, Costa Rica that evening. No luck on booking the flight through the app. No alternative but to wait out the line. While waiting, I contacted my friend in Costa Rica and asked her if she could find a relatively inexpensive hotel near the airport. I was beginning to have the feeling that it might not be that easy to get out of Cartagena that day.
After nearly three and a half hours in line, it was my turn. I speak some Spanish and the agent spoke no English. I explained my plight and she was especially upbeat given that she had been fending off disturbed and disgruntled patrons for hours. She messed around on the computer for a few minutes and then gave a double fist pump in the air. I asked her if she was celebrating for me or for her. She said for me because she was able to make the change of flights at no cost to me. Back into the computer she went. After about five minutes, her happy face turned into a frown. She called over the other agent, so now the line was at a dead stop because both agents were dealing with my issue. After a few minutes of conversation, she looked back at me and shook her head. I knew that was going to cost me. She explained that she could not make the change and then wrote down the cost for the change in Colombian pesos. It was going to be more than a couple million pesos! Well, no choice so I popped out the credit card.
My flight from Cartagena to Bogotá was initially scheduled to leave late in the afternoon of March 17. My connecting flight from Bogotá was not scheduled to leave until around 11:00 PM that same night arriving in Costa Rica about 1:00 AM local time on March 18. As I am leaving the airport to find a taxi to my hotel, I receive an email from Avianca. It advises me that my flight from Bogotá to Costa Rica had already changed and now departs at 6:30 AM on March 18. At this point I am becoming a little concerned that the flight will get pushed back again inching closer to the midnight deadline.
I also realize that now I will have about eight hours in the Bogotá airport. I am not comfortable with that, mainly because the longer the time in an airport the more chance for picking up the virus. I had previously booked a small boutique hotel near the Bogotá airport and tried contacting it by email with no luck.
On the morning of March 17, I had breakfast at the Cartagena hotel but had to kill time until about 3:00 PM when I would take a taxi to the airport for my flight to Bogotá. Nothing to do but hang out at the hotel. While I am waiting, I cancel the fifteen accommodations that I had booked for the rest of my Colombia trip.
Mid-afternoon I take a taxi to the airport with an easy check-in for the flight. The flight is uneventful until arrival at the Bogotá airport. The plane taxis to a stop at a remote location away from the terminal. We are informed that we will be disembarking and taking a bus to the terminal. Avianca then thoughtlessly crams us like sardines into a bus for the ride to the terminal. There were seven faces less than three feet from mine. A fairly uncomfortable situation given the circumstances.
When I arrive in Bogotá, I decide for sure that I do not want to spend 7-8 hours in the airport. I decided to take a taxi to Casa de Morelia which is the small hotel that I had booked and cancelled for my night before the trip to the Amazon. Luckily the friendly owner is there and offers a room at a great rate. I walk to a mall nearby for dinner and it is a perfect little neighborhood with shops, stores and restaurants, virtually all of which are closed. The mall is deserted but a few fast food restaurants are open.
My flight from Bogotá is at 6:30 the next morning, March 18. The little hotel is a family operation so the owner arranges for a family member to take me to the airport a 3:30 AM. Francisco is punctually ready and waiting for my final trip in Bogotá. There are few people in the airport and it takes only minutes to get through immigration. Of course, the nearly empty flight is an hour late but all things are ultimately “go” and I arrive in Costa Rica shortly after 8:00 AM on the morning of March 18 well within the midnight shutdown. Piece of cake.
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