After rodadero, me and Kevin caught a taxi to Santa Marta. The plan was to stay at a hostel my friends from bogotá had recommended to me after they visited it a couple weeks ago. I remembered having found it on my "hostelfinder" application right after I got my iPhone back in April. I had looked it up that day and gotten the address for it. We had been told by the puerta a routa driver that the first one didn't exist, so we decided it must be the second one. Our cab driver was unable to find the address we gave him, and didn't know what a hostel is, so we tried to explain it to him:"it's like a hotel, but more cheap..."
'ah... Las hoteles económicos son en el centro, cerca la playa'
"no... We need the one at carrera 16 con calle 5"
he looked for it, asked several pedestrians for directions, and eventually told us we might be better off getting another taxi, with a local driver who may know where it was we were looking for. He only asked for 4 Mil, instead of the 9 he quoted us in Rodadero. We decided we'd walk around a bit and see if we might happen upon The Dreamer's Hostel. So, following my trusty sense of direction, we set off. We walked for about 20 or 30 minutes before we hailed another cab.He seemed to think he might know where we needed to go. About 4 blocks later (in the exact same direction we had just walked from--so much for my internal compass) he pulled over, turned the car off, and said something in spanish as he tapped his jugular on the side of his neck. I didn't really understand what was going on. His car had broken down. Oooh... I thought he was going to rob us. We caught another taxi, and when he didn't know The Dreamer's Hostel, we asked for a cheap hotel close to the beach. We had given up on Rhe Dreamer's Hostel, but only for that night.
We got a room--air conditioned-- for only $45.000. Okay, great. And free wi-fi.
To Be Continued
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