Cartagena

Join David Noton as he energetically engages with the lively and vivid streets of Catagena

The salty spray of the Caribbean douses the taxi as we drive around the Old City walls. Cartagena; just the name evokes the romance of travel. Founded in 1533 it was named after the town in Spain, which in turn was named after Carthage in Tunisia. During the colonial era Cartagena was the main port for the export of Peruvian silver to Spain and the import of slaves from Africa. Now the fabled colonial walled city and fortress are a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

I’d read, in the Rough Guide, that Colombia’s Caribbean coastal belt has a different vibe to the rest of the country; livelier, more colourful, more hedonistic. That’s evident from the taxi drive in… We check into our hotel, drop our bags, and hit the streets. Already I’m wishing we had more time here.

Immediately we’re bombarded with the colour of the brightly painted colonial buildings, murals, cafes and bars. Musicians, food vendors and various flamboyant characters throng the streets; there’s so much going on its intoxicating. The locals seemingly live on the pavements. In amongst the network of impossibly narrow alleyways they’re relaxing, drinking, eating, dancing and playing music, football, or backgammon. Wall art and bizarre metal sculptures adorn every wall and pavement.

This, the burgeoning barrio of Getsemani just outside the walls of the historic Old City, was formerly a haven of prostitution and drugs. Now the once-seedy neighbourhood is charming, and 'the place to be'. Trouble is the street theatre and local colour is all a little overwhelming; photographically I don’t know where to start. I end up flitting about shooting hand-held frantically, but I’ve the strong suspicion I’m shooting crap; I need to slow down.

We take a break over beer, sitting outside a bar, watching the world go by. I’ve my 5D Mk IV in my lap with the EF 85mm f/1.2l lens on again, occasionally shooting passers-by, the waiter, and water sellers. There’s a friendly vibe about the place, with no antipathy directed towards my camera. As dusk settles I roam again with an increasingly high ISO, shooting the hawkers pushing carts laden with fruit and the street barbecues lighting up. Every arch way, alleyway and courtyard reveals more street theatre; it’s like a film set. I have to admit I’m buzzing with excitement; it’s reassuring to know after all the miles I can still feel this way.

Three days later I’m hiding on the back streets of Getsemani. I’m shooting with the 5D Mark IV again. It’s a more flexible camera for travel photography then the 5DS R, but I do like having both, just in case. Using the EF 35mm f/1.4l wide prime, I’ve just photographed a bicycle repair man, now I’m approaching two geezers sat outside The Parrot Bar. Having been prowling these streets for the last few days I’m now on nodding terms with a few of the locals, many of whom seem to spend their days sitting on the pavement watching the world go by. Where am I going wrong?

A mime artist is working the crowds in Plaza de la Santísima; he’s hilarious to watch with his ability to instantly mimic mannerisms and exaggerate body language. Our friend the 'Cheery But Worst Busker in the World' is back; I shoot him too; why not? A music video featuring a rapper lip-syncing to a hovering drone camera is being shot in the square; we must appear in the background. Pigeons flock overhead, while dogs circulate. A minibus pulls up and disgorges today's load of backpackers; tattoos, huge ear rings, wrist bands, flip-flops, dreadlocks, man-buns and gargantuan sacs predominate. Kids on bicycles weave between them all, watched by Wendy and I from our pavement bar. We like our solitude, peace, tranquillity, and space. We’re country people. Give us our green lanes, rolling hills and the great wide open any day. Yet Cartagena has been mesmerizing, intoxicating, and inspirational. We’ve loved it.