Cartagena has always marked new beginnings for us. Nearly a decade after our wedding at Club de Pesca, the city welcomed us once again—not in guayaberas and dresses, but with a rooftop tent, patience, and our trusty Taco Libre, ready for the Pan American Highway.

Our journey started with a classic travel hiccup: Mafé forgot her Colombian passport. Amid flight delays, sprints through airports, and a miracle that let us catch our plane, we finally arrived in Cartagena. Luggage? Delayed. Taco Libre? Even more so. But these “bumps in the road” became part of the adventure.

During a week of navigating Colombian bureaucracy, we rediscovered Cartagena’s charm. Colonial streets buzzed with music, color, and history. Palenqueras balanced baskets of fruit on their heads, murals celebrated culture, and every corner offered a taste of local life—from arepas con huevo to patacón pisao. Art and life intertwined beautifully, from Edgardo Carmona’s sculptures to the door knockers that whisper stories of centuries past.

And yes, we danced. Just as we closed our wedding night on the floor, we shut down Havana Club in Getsemaní, salsa flowing until the night ended. Despite the ups and downs, we’ve made the most of every moment, balancing patience with exploration. With paperwork done and Taco Libre finally in our hands, our South American adventure begins. Cartagena gave us our marriage; now it gives us our starting line.