01.03.2013 - 01.03.2013
After diving this morning we have spent most of the day at the bus station, reading or sucked into the Colombian version of "The Price Is Right" ("El Precio Es Correcto"). Tonight we take an overnight bus to Bucaramanga, and Chris has me unaccountably worried there will be a bus hijacking. Whenever we've had a premonition like this it seems to come true. I wonder how we'll sleep.
It's strange to leave Santa Marta, as if we're just now commencing traveling again. In San Gil we'll have to start all over with figuring out and exploring until we know it just well enough, and then it's on to the next place. If you sense some dissatisfaction in this you wouldn't be far amiss, and yet I can't think how else to do it...this time. Already a wave of plans carries us forward from one place to the next, and my old innate passiveness takes over, as if I were more interested in watching than living my life.