A man and a woman, a dog and a house. The man runs a kiteschool, the woman is a journalist and a writer, the dog barks and the house accomodates us. We’re north of Cartagena in Puerto Colombia. We’re kiting, eating, reading, playing and sleeping. And today we were on the prime time news over here…
It was hard for the guy behind the immigration-desk to understand and accept that I arrived this day with absolutely no plans. I didn’t have a single adress in the fourth largest country of South America or a contactperson among the 45 million inhabitats of Colombia. Not even a return-ticket. So while trying to convince the guy that he should let me enter the country, a girl sticks a note in my hand with an adress. “Hey, this is my place!” I tell the guy. And the note gets me over the boarder. I’m in Colombia! On this last day of 2011.
