Kay Hyde goes in search of emeralds, iguanas, peaceful havens and bustling streets – and finds them all in and around the historic port of Cartagena . . .

The Rosario islands – a welcoming diversion from city life. At Isla Grande there’s pure white sandy beaches, a tiny palm-thatched beach bar and hammocks strewn between coconut trees

Two nuns rode by in a horse and trap; musicians in the leafy, cobbled square played African drums and teenagers gathered under the shade of a fruit-laden mango tree, filling the place with gossip.

Sitting at a pavement café, an American tourist and I were the only people who looked like they didn’t belong. I tucked into a lunch of Cajun chicken and coconut rice and watched the world go by.

It seemed as if the whole population was out on the streets of Cartagena: Playing cards, selling exotic fruits, listening to salsa music, or snoozing in the midday heat.

Colombia’s pride and joy, Cartagena is a historic port on the north Caribbean coast – a Unesco World Heritage Site. Founded in 1533 under Spanish colonial rule and surrounded by fortified walls, reminders of the Spanish settlers are everywhere, particularly in the colonial-style architecture.

In the 16th century the city, located in a deep and safe bay, became the storehouse for treasure plundered from the native Indians, until ships could take it back to Spain. Pirate attacks became rife and Cartagena’s most famous attacker, Sir Frances Drake, sacked the port in 1586, only agreeing not to level the town when presented with a massive ransom of ten million pesos – which he shipped back to England.

What a tragedy it would have been if this beautiful place had been destroyed.  Inside the old walled city, lining the narrow cobbled streets, are mustard, terracotta, pink and blue houses with ornate balconies covered in crimson bougainvillea. 

Many of the larger properties have been turned into boutique hotels with fabulous inner courtyards, complete with waterfalls and a resident toucan or parrot.

This felt a world apart from the Colombia I’d imagined; a poor country, with pot-holed roads and scant infrastructure – little evidence of that here. Back home friends had voiced concern about my trip: “You’re brave, are you sure it’s safe?” was a typical reaction.

Mention Colombia to anyone and they usually associate it with drug cartels, but away from “unsafe” pockets of the country, life goes on as usual. Ten years ago, cruise ships snubbed Cartagena, but now visitors pour into the city daily from the many that dock here and tourism is beginning to flourish.

I had checked in to the Hotel Tres Banderas, just three blocks from the sea, where an inner patio with palms and waterfall offered welcome respite from the heat and humidity. My comfortable room had air conditioning, tiled floors and wooden beamed ceilings and was an oasis of calm.

There are plenty of museums to visit –  the fort of San Felipe (the strongest fortress ever built by the Spaniards in their colonies); a very good modern art museum; gold and naval museums and several churches – I stopped by the “Palacio de la Inquisicion”, where the history of the Spanish Inquisition, set up in 1610 to judge crimes against the Christian faith, is told in all its gory detail.

A typical house in Cartagena – inside the old walled city you will find the narrow cobbled streets lined with mustard, terracotta, pink and blue dwellings with ornate balconies

Principal “crimes” were magic, witchcraft and blasphemy. Up until 1810, when Colombia gained independence from Spain, 800 people had been condemned to death and executed.

I found wandering the streets and chatting with the locals was the best way to get acquainted. Stopping by a street seller to buy some tamarind sweets, that tasted of pure sugar, a local bar owner invited me inside to dance salsa with him. Given that he was twice my age, with a pot belly and a patch over one eye, I decided to decline! 

With no intention to buy (but out of pure curiosity) I went in search of emeralds  – Colombia produces the largest percentage of the world’s supply. The best quality jewels are a deep, pure green and command high prices. 

Marvelling rather too long over a beautiful emerald and diamond ring, the delightful shop assistant suggested my “media naranja” (half orange, or other half) should buy it for me, but luckily for him he hadn’t joined me on this trip.

Cartagena, though, feels like a place you ought to be with your “half orange”; like Venice or Paris it has an alluring atmosphere all of its own. Romance seems to linger in the 

air . . . It’s hot and humid and the streets are alive with music and lined with chic cafés, bars and restaurants.

One of the most famous love stories to come out of the country was written by Colombia’s noble prize-winning author Gabriel Garcia Marquez – “Love in the time of cholera”.  A recent film of the book is set largely in the convent of San Pedro Claver, founded by Jesuits in the 17th century. In this peaceful haven, with a tree-filled courtyard, you can learn more about Pedro, a Spanish-born monk who spent much of his life here, preaching to the slaves who were brought over from Africa.

Back in the hustle and bustle of the town, I visited “las Bovedas” – 23 dungeons built into the city walls in the 18th century and now housing craft and souvenir shops. Traders vied for my attention, selling woven sun hats, hammocks and finely-woven palm baskets. 

I walked for several hours, exploring every nook and cranny.

A mile or so from the historic quarter is Bocagrande, a thin strip of land where tall, glass apartments seem to loom almost directly from the sea. It’s a surprising mix of modern and old, as if New York and old York have been put side-by-side.

As I walked I noticed there was a “tourist policeman” on just about every street corner.  It felt as if I had my own personal guardian angel watching over me.

A welcoming diversion from city life is a visit to the Rosario islands – 30 small coral islands which lie due southwest and boat tours run daily. Surrounded by coral reefs, the colour of the sea changes from turquoise to deep blue and this whole area has been designated a national park.

There are plenty of activities on offer including salsa dancing

Arriving at the Isla Grande, the scene was just as I had imagined – pure white sandy beaches, a tiny palm-thatched beach bar and hammocks strewn between coconut trees. 

There are plenty of activities on offer here – diving or snorkelling on the coral reefs and cycling and walking around the island. I joined a Mexican couple and booked an escorted canoe trip which took us into shallow freshwater lagoons and through deep mangrove forests. 

Our guide pointed out starfish, lobster and poisonous plants in the sand below and just above us in an overhanging tree we spotted a motionless iguana lazing in the sun.

Back in Cartagena, I quizzed a local shopkeeper about why he thought Colombia has such a bad reputation. “It’s ignorance,” he said, “people don’t know the truth. The country has changed and we need to invest in good publicity. Yes, our country still has problems, but where doesn’t?  You don’t realise it, but we are taking care of you. We can’t afford for visitors to get into difficulty here, our livelihoods depend on tourism.”

So how about it?  As well as historic Cartagena and its islands there’s the Tayrona national park a few hours north – set on the jungle-covered Caribbean coast at the foot of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta  – with some of the loveliest bays in Colombia.

If only I’d had the time to go . . . 

In the words of the tourist board, I can most definitely affirm: “Colombia – the only risk is wanting to stay”.