Leaving the most "Delicious Colombian" for later, we arrived in 

Cartagena.

 It seems to be woven from one house, stretched along all the streets, from one flower pot, replicated on all balconies, from one stout African American woman, who fed with her fruits the whole world. The city, which became the decoration for 'Love in the Time of Cholera' by Garcia Marquez, where no matter where you go - there will be the sea. Because the sea is all around, it sometimes seems that the sea is inside. The ball, badly given from a corner, flies through it to the Caribbean...

After looking at his arms I saw myself in 20 years, even though I already have more rings now... but looking up at his neck I realized that I still have something to strive for.