Cartagena pictures

I'm writing this in the comfort of the palace kitchens, where we are now online. I can't spend too long on this as I have to go to the dentist. I had my first appointment yesterday with an English-speaking Hungarian who had been recommended by German at Platypus. His practice was in an unmarked apartment on the eigtheenth floor of a residential block. His wife let me in and I spent about half an hour flicking through old magazines in his living room. Finally he took me through to his consulting room, which seemed to be part of his kitchen. We had a bit of a chat and he told me that he fled to Colombia with all his family because of the Hungarian revolutions of the 1950s. I didn't like to question his choice of safe haven - but I've never heard of anyone coming here to escape political violence. He made a lot of disapproving noises as he examined my mouth and ran through what needed to be done. At this point I realised that because the chair was right up against a wall he'd only been able to check one side of my mouth. I craned my head round and said: "What about all these?"

He then betrayed how long he has been in Colombia by making their national noise of suprise and horror, which sounds something like "oo-weesh" and added to the list of things to do. At this point he told me I needed a temporary filling straight away. I was expecting this as I have had two fall out recently. The first was back in England when I was eating a cherry drop and going too fast over a speed hump. The second was during lunch last Sunday, just as I was explaining that the treacle tart I'd made shouldn't be so sticky. I was expecting to be injected, but instead he just told me to hold my tongue to one side with his mirror and started to drill away at my molar. "Don't worry," he said as smoke started to issue from my mouth, "this is only a very little drilling." At that point the phone rang, so he pushed his drill into my other hand and went to answer it. I was lying back on the chair trying to cool my tooth with my tongue while he stood at the phone for a full minute saying: "Allo? Allo? Con quien? Who is there? Allo! Allo?" He eventually gave up and came back to me, imparting the fairly redundant information that there was nobody on the line.

Anyway, back to Cartagena. Isn't annoying that whenever you take a picture of an interesting door you always get a gorgeous bird walk into the shot?

This little alley runs alongside the city walls, built to keep out pirates like Sir Francis Drake.
It's a colourful place, Cartagena.

I'm really not sure what this shop keeper was thinking with his choice of mannequin - particularly in a town where all the girls are so slim.
Ah, that would be it; a tribute to Botero.





This is the view from the city walls. In the distance you can see the new town. Just along from here is the Colombian branch of Cafe del Mar - the legendary Ibiza chill-out bar. It is a great place to relax; with the Caribbean on one side and the old town on the other. The DJ plays his LPs in one of the watch towers. We only stayed for one drink because we thought it was horrendously expensive - almost a quid and a half a pint. Oo-weesh!

Everybody at the palace has spent all week recovering from the housewarming, but hopefully this weekend should be more sensible - and all thanks to George Bush. Because he's coming to Bogota on Monday, there's a complete ban on alcohol sales all weekend - what's known here as a Ley Seca, or Dry Law. On the other hand, experience tells me that these attempts at calming the populace usually backfire where gringos, particularly the English, are involved. We have already had a stream of visitors asking if they can store booze here . . . so it could turn into another palace-bound weekend like the last one. It may be just as well, because we're only a block or two from the Presidential Palace the whole place is crawling with soldiers and American spooks. There have even been tanks spotted in the neighbourhood. So perhaps it might be wise to keep a low profile. Being searched is never very pleasant.