My 26th birthday

An excerpt from a letter to a friend describing my birthday last year:

I wonder how you are celebrating today, what delights have been arranged. For myself, I had quite a wonderful birthday, and a wonderful last few days as a 25 year old. Shall I write you about them? You can't answer, so I'm to answer for you: Yes, yes I shall.

It began with our arrival in Santa Marta and meeting Patrick, our Irish host at our chosen hostel. Patrick, an architect by trade, had purchased a farm in the surrounding mountains, the Sierra Nevada of Santa Marta some nine years ago or so in an effort to 'get back to the land' as it were. He planted avocados, mangoes, and most recently cacao. He returned to Ireland to work for a few months of every year until last year when - dum da da! - he started building the hostel.

Anyway, he's a charming, delightful, warm and welcoming sort of man who made us feel immediately about 100X better than we had been feeling after the horrific bus ride I described earlier. He recommended a fantastic restaurant as well, also run by a very warm and loving sort of person. After dinner we bought some wine at the grocery store and made our way to the rooftop terrace where we joined Patrick, two hostel-owning friends of his from Medellin (an Aussie bloke and his lovely Colombiana lady friend), Tim from Denmark (who was very quiet, but smiled a lot), and David, from England, who was very cute in a thrilling, 'oh, here's a cute boy' kind of way.

So the evening passed with wine, beer, conversation, and music fromt he nearby gay-transvestite club. Lovely.

Saturday night was decided to go out. It was my last Saturday as a 25 year old, after all, and despite much talk of going out dancing in the 7 weeks we had been travelling we still hadn't done it. So we donned our best salsa-dancing dresses and made our way to the "it " club in Santa Marta - La Puerta. We were there a bit early - it hadn't filled up yet, so we sat back with a beer and watched the crowd trickle in. Finally we couldn't resist anymore and we made our way to the dance floor. There was no roof, so when I looked up I saw the stars, and there was a cool breeze blowing from the ocean. I was in a club in Colombia, dancing with my best friend in all the world, with stars above me and music all around me. What could be better?

A salsa with a tall Colombiano, that's what could be better.

He and his friend danced with us a good portion of the night, and they were very good - fun, not too pushy, not trying to grind on us or anything. I danced most of the night with his friend, who like to shake his shoulders and throw his hands in the air. Then a salsa song came one, and after briefly showing us the basic steps, I found myself swept up in the arms of this tall boy from Bogota, with a white shirt and dark hair. And despite the lack of space and my struggle to follow well, he swung me around like nothing and I loved it.

Do you remember the boy from the Fest Noz who twirled me 'round the room in a waltz? I sure do. I remember every boy who has ever spun me around in a dance. It's my favourite feeling in the world and I wish oh I wish I had gotten Bogota boy's number for when I got o Bogota next weekend. Sigh.

David and Tim were at the club as well and we chatted with them before going home.

Sunday, my very last day as a 25 year old, we went out to Patrick's farm where we were treated to a walk in the countryside, a tour of another nearby hobby farm filled with medicinal plants, a meditational labyrinth, and a butterfly sanctuary, a picnic on a rock by the river, and a swim in the river and a waterfall. In the evening Patrick joined us for supper and we shared a bottle of wine with Patrick and his girlfriend Diana, chatting about Colombian politics and civil wars. In the night there was no light whatsoever - completely black - and only the sound of the river below to fall asleep to.

Perfection.

The farm contained:
- one small house next to a river with two simple guest rooms
- many trees and paths through the trees,
- an unfinished, but beautiful, guesthouse on the top of a hill
- many children who enjoyed giggling at everything we said and regularly stripping off clothes down to underpants and jumping in the river
- the cutest, tiniest puppy I have ever seen. He still had his milk teeth, and he fit into the palm of my hand. And he liked to snuggle against me and fall asleep. sigh.

So on the morning of my 26th birthday I woke in this delightful place, enjoyed a delicious meal prepared by the lady who lived there (she made us tea from lemon and sweet grass - it was delicious), went for a walk, read my book by the river with my feet dangling in the refreshingly cool water, enjoyed another lunch delicioso, went for a swim in the river, playing in the rapids, and enjoyed a fantastic moto-taxi ride down the steep, twisty turney mountain road, breathing in the sweetness of my handsome young driver and admiring the beauty of the mountains.

For dinner that night Alexis and I dressed up and went out to a "rather posh" seafood restaurant at the edge of a plaza. We sat on the patio and watched children play, lovers cuddle and long strands of Christmas lights blow in the breeze. The entire plaza was decorated - an enormous white-light snowman waving at us from beneath palm trees, and long strands of green lights hanging from every tree.

After supper we returned to the hostel where we joined Patrick, Diana, David and others on the front porch. Alexis produced a birthday cake out of nowhere (she's magic, she is, that girl) and we passed around pieces, before sharing what was left with the kids playing next door. The two Swedish men we had met on our second day there arrived and serenaded me in Swedish (que bueno!), we drank wine, or beer, and enjoyed the night.

It being a Monday, I would not have expected to go out and faire la fete. HOWEVER, Colombia a fait la fete pour moi! It was la fete de candles or something. Something to do with the Virgin Mary and it involved lighting candles, a holiday on Tuesday, and LOTS of drinking on Monday. As midnight approached, and with it the official end of my official birthday, we were joined by Imogen and James, an English couple from London who had just gotten married and were taking a 9 month honeymoon. The hostel was running low on beer, and Imogen was keen to sortir, the boys insisted that it was still my birthday until the sun came up and I'd best do it justice by going out. So out I went. Alexis and the Swedes were starting a 5-day hike the next day, so they went to bed, mais moi, je suis sortie avec les anglais - James, Imogen and David.

Back to La Puerta, more beer, the local strong liquor 'aguardiente', chatting up the pretty Colombian girl sitting next to us, watching Imogen get very silly and say "James, I'm very drunk, we have to go home now," scoping the dance floor and deciding it was too crowded to try, returning to David who, having been abandoned by Imogen and James was now surrounded by Colombian boys determined to practice their English.

We decided to leave, and had made it as far as the doorstep when we stopped to talk to some other people from the hostel. Then the song "I have a feeling" came on and I couldn't help myself.

"I think - " I started to say
"You have to go dance, don't you?" He said with a smile.
I nodded
And he took my hand and led me to the dance floor, where we danced the rest of the night away, until the last song ended and the lights came on. Sometimes his hand was on my waist, and sometimes my arm was around his neck, mostly we were caught up in the music, and always we were having fun. Perfection.

Back at the hostel, still too charged up for bed, we retrieved some white wine from my room and made our way to the terrace on the roof again

I almost wish I had kissed him - it seemed such the moment to. But in the end I think it's perfect just as it was - dancing, conversation, the evening breeze.

I did kiss him, briefly, just at the end, in farewell and in thanks. It was an unforgettable evening on all counts. But the kiss was of the unromantic kind, which is quite lovely as well, I think.

So that was it. My 26th birthday. Quite multi-cultural, quite remarkable, and quite unforgettable. And I have this feeling that the rest of my year might just be like that as well. I have a good feeling about 26. I feel it's a year of big change, but a year of good surprises.