Woke up without a hangover and the intention of going to Tayrona National Park, basically as Lonely Planet says you should. This place was the number one thing I wanted to do in Colombia before we even started the trip, since then everything has eroded the enthusiasm for going. Liz was not keen on sleeping in a hamock and I was unsure whether it was going to be sufficiently good to offset this concern based on travel bloggs I had read.

There are lots of other pro's and cons making it an agonising decision for me not to go. Just as I am coming round to the decision we just this instance got a message from Simon who is heading over there tomorrow.

Palomino is on the Caribean conveniently about half way to the border. It is not detailed in any of the guidebooks but looks like it could be a bit more of an adventure after Santa Marta and a good concelation after missing Tayrona. It is probally the only place where you can have your feet in the Caribean and see 5800m snow capped mountains.

We had to catch the local (as usual packed) bus from the Market. Hardly any travellers cross the border and very few visit Palomino. We were the only people on the bus when the bus conductor told us we had arrived.

We didn't have anywhere to stay but we knew that there would be something on the beach. We asked the direction to the beach and refused the offer of a bike ride there - we heard a few tails regarding bike rides with large rucksacks. A family (as it turned out from Bogota) were listening, true Colombians they wanted to help and asked some locals where we could go. They then offered to take us there in their car.

We followed an earth track but soon abandoned it in favour of going across open fields. It looked very touch and go but we eventually made it to the coast.

The family rallied around a local guy who led us to this lovely almost Swiss looking cabin. It is massive inside with four beds but still costing less than our basic place in Santa Marta.

Finding anywhere to eat, never mind vegetarian was an issue as there were no restaurants, shops or people selling things. We headed out down the white and black beach in the hope that the people here must eat something. After some massive tyres that were used as a sand break we noticed that a couple were having something cooked close to the beach. We went up to see if we could get something there. It was a private place but the couple asked the chef if he could cook something for us. We polished off the omelete and chips and then started to make some plans for something to eat later. Later didn't seem that far off it was already 4pm. I didn't fancy walking back to the road a forty minute journey and having just eaten decided to try and find something along the beach in the other direction.

We were sort of in luck, we didn't find anything to eat but we did find a guy selling beers on the beach from his camp. This was basically a camp fire, hamocks between the palm trees and the all important Jamaican flag with the usual motifs.

We had a beer until close to sunset with the aim of coming back later and sitting round the fire.

I went back sooner than expected as I forgot my sandals. On the way back again there were wails coming from a group of locals that were earlier having a good time in the large surf here. Looking out you could see a kid and presumably his father battling against the waves. This area is notorious for drownings and the locals knew it. Within a couple of minutes a long section of rope was rushed to the beach. With rope in hand someone swam out, with me and some others holding the other end - day saved thew!

I went back to the 'camp' later (Liz and possible rain don't mix). Other than getting some beers and possibly having a good laugh around the fire I needed to find out about the buses - which happened to be scarlily early. I didn't care for the people round the fire so I headed back.

It is strange talking about camp fires when you are on the Caribean. After hot sunny Santa Marta everything below 28C (the temperature we set the A/C to seems chilly). It is not cold going by Liz with the fan, it is overcast and I am hungry. I was cold in one other place on the Caribean namely nearby Venezuela - the weather was the same on the beach there as well.

Hunger is the overriding feeling as I finish off the day, thoughts are of my mums homemade cheese and onion pie, curry and various other things are dominating the conversations. I am looking forward to Santiago not because of it's nightlife or sights but the possibility of getting curry.