Pimp my isle

We Irish have been, and are, called many things but ostentatious can never really be one of them. In comparison to our brethren across the pond (the bigger pond that is), we tend to be quite a reserved bunch; then again, who isn’t when viewed in such a light?

Halloween — less substance, more shabby style?

Even at the height of the Celtic Tiger when many people had more (borrowed) money than sense, we never really became too brash or cocky. 

Sure we may have built to excess but we tended to stick to the ‘less talk, more action’ mantra. Things were ‘grand’ (in Ireland that means an ordinary 'fine'); you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone use that flamboyant, quintessentially North American word ‘awesome’.

Perhaps much of this was due to the fact that deep down, even if we didn’t outwardly acknowledge it, we knew our newfound (borrowed) wealth wouldn’t last.

So now that the arse has well and truly fallen out of our ‘mighty little’ economic miracle, you would think being showy is the last thing on our minds – considering, that is, that we traditionally don’t do it, it just doesn’t sit well with us at all. Rather than things being awesome, they’re just awkward.

Yet, as the dust settles on our gluttonous years, one obvious legacy, very much in evidence over the Halloween period, is the desire for young families to pimp up their homes for various events and festivities. 

OK, one might have expected a scaling up in this regard when the country was awash with (borrowed – get it?) money, but there appears to be no sign of scaling back now that we’ve returned to our ‘normal’ financial state (hard-pressed that is).

Christmas decorating predates the boom years and it’s not something we’ve too many misgivings about, although its arrival seems to get earlier and earlier each year with an accompanying increase in the lavishness of these Yuletide manifestations.

It’s the relatively recent uptake of Halloween folderol that has us scratching our heads. 

We’ve always recognised the day, of course – in fact, it’s an Irish festival, its roots going back to pagan times on the island. But the odd costume and trick-or-treater aside, we were never too bothered about jazzing up our houses and streets with a host of Halloween paraphernalia – we left that to the Yanks, in much the same way we ‘let’ them outdo us with the St Patrick’s Day celebrations.

That all seems to have changed now. Decorations are a prerequisite these days – fake spiders’ webs are hung up (while at the same time frantically sweeping away real ones), figures of witches and skeletons put on display and pumpkins are ‘planted’ in every corner of the house.

Decommissioned. 

Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with such practices – you could argue that they bring some lesser-spotted cheer to surroundings in these hard-pressed, almost gloomy times (the current state of play being far spookier than any contrived Halloween scare). 

However, when you’re preaching poverty to strait-laced neighbours who happen to be paying your way, being a bit flashy doesn’t send out the right signals, does it? 

It’s a bit like the struggling parents, who apparently never have money for anything, hiring a private photographer when it comes to their little Johnny’s or Mary’s Communion Day. Well come on, they couldn’t be expected to share the one laid on for the group or, whisper it, take their own amateur photos on such a momentous day.

Back to Halloween, how about returning to some of our more, um, traditional, simpler customs? 

The innocent days of kicking some old man’s hard-saved cabbage, launching fireworks and mild explosives at legitimate targets and subsequently getting chased by An Garda Síochána (the Irish police) appear lost in the past. Solid substance has been replaced by shallow style.

Come on guys, you know this showiness doesn’t suit us. It’s not always best practice to slavishly follow Mr and Mrs Jones.

Any which way but lose . . .

We've had a lot of time to think over these last couple of months. Too much time, you might say. Indeed, as a good friend tells us, that’s generally the start of our problems – when we begin to think that is.

That "advice" aside, our return to the home soil was always shrouded in doubts and questions as to what we would do once the chief reason we came back for was over. 

A big factor in this was that we were leaving a place, Colombia, where despite the many virtues it had – and has – for us (see http://bit.ly/1bJI3eg), from a work point of view it hadn't really got us too excited (that’s not to mention the very modest financial returns that accompanied said employment – we’ll say no more on that for a number of reasons).

Back to basics, back to the bog. Or should that be Bogotá?

However, from early on in our sojourn home, we pretty much convinced ourselves that we wouldn't be staying for any considerable length of time. We feel we’re just not ready to relocate to Ireland right now. 

Much of that may be due to the fact of where we are. Back under the parents’ roof for what is now the longest period of time in over five years, extremely grateful as we are not to be paying rent, in a rural Ireland suffering from a pretty dramatic youth drain whilst having no gainful employment*. 

These points conspire to ensure our social life doesn't come close to what it has been like over the last number of years.

The bounce we got from coming home and catching up with family and remaining friends has waned considerably. Rather than feeling re-energised, we’re fast becoming drained. 

Of course, there may be an element of a self-fulfilling prophecy in all of this. We expected Ireland not to deliver for us, so we've done little to counteract that. We envisaged ourselves leaving again, so in one sense not doing so would be a comedown. Basically, we've enjoyed not being in Ireland. We've become comfortable being the emigrant, the ‘outsider’.

There’s even a hint of embarrassment for us now when we meet people, 'Oh, you’re still here. We thought you’d be gone by now.' So did we, so did we.

Being in a house where RTÉ Radio One (the Irish state broadcaster) is the station of choice doesn't help things either – if you’re feeling a bit too happy in yourself, an hour’s listening to this will see you right. Perhaps it's just reflecting the general mood of the nation? 

In any case, with our political, critical and at times cynical nature, we’re just the type of listener Radio One sucks in. We ignore the health warnings and indulge in it to dangerous levels. Changing that dial, both physically and mentally, is proving to be quite a difficult task.

In a more benign way, our attitude towards Ireland could be compared to a mother who wants her little Johnny to be the best he can be and is at times overly critical and demanding of him. Sometimes, though, it’s best to leave Johnny to his own devices.

Belfast's 'exotic' side.

We've been here before, of course. In 2009, when we returned home after a year of travelling, it wasn't too long before we started looking for the exit doors again. As it turned out, a speculative job application came good and we found ourselves Belfast-bound. 

Considering we’d never been to that city before, it did offer freshness and its own exoticness (don’t laugh) for a Free-Stater**. The small bit of the Queen’s pound that came our way was well received, too. In any case, it staved off the wanderlust for a while.

So, you ask, why are we still here? Well, trying to get a work visa for Colombia, the default go-to right now, has proved to be a convoluted process; although an end does appear to be in sight. Alongside this, an unsolicited, potential job offer has come our way. 

Given the employment plight of many Irish people these days, we feel at the very least that whatever may be on the table merits some serious thought.

Here we go again, though – back to thinking. Was that not our problem in the first place? The tried and trusted coin toss is beginning to look like the best solution to our predicament.
_________________________
*For more on that 'youth drain', see previous post No country for young men at http://bit.ly/1aV6tn4.

**A 'Free-Stater' is a term of, um, endearment used by Northern Ireland residents in reference to people from the Republic of Ireland, which was previously known as the Irish Free State.

Colombia, te extrañamos (Colombia, we miss you – in some ways)

To coincide with St Patrick’s Day earlier this year, we came up with a list highlighting the things we missed from Ireland (see http://bit.ly/Xgz0J6). 

Now that we’re back on home soil and plotting what’s turning out to be a less-than-straightforward return to Colombia, in weaker moments we have found ourselves thinking about certain things we long for from our previous home. 

OK, it’s not a case where we can’t sleep at night because of this but the following still resonate with us all the same.

Chilled-out times in Colombia.

Amigos

Obviously, this is not to say we’ve a lack of friends here at home (despite a mass exodus of people in their twenties from the west of Ireland), it’s more a point that some fine additions to our buddies list were made in Colombia over the last two years or so. 

Most of these, but not all, were fellow expats and some of them have also bid adieu to the country in the last while. There are, though, still a few old dogs remaining – perhaps we’ll be rejoining them shortly.

Good, old friends in the big city.

Big-city living

This may directly contradict with one from our Ireland’s calling list, but a lively metropolis, which Bogotá can be at times, is generally a good base for young(ish), single people. Plus, as mentioned above, the lack of younger people where we currently are is a drawback on occasions. Which brings us on to ...

... las chicas

OK, we haven’t always written in a positive light about Colombian women.* However, this still doesn’t take away from the fact that they are amongst some of the best-looking in the world. And before anyone accuses us of being sexist or a male chauvinist, Colombian women know they are beautiful and like to be told it, too. We’re thus doing our duty.

Not bad ... (courtesy of revistadonjuan.com)

A different tongue

No, this has nothing to do with the above point, we’re on about the language here. 

While we’re not masters of Spanish by any stretch of the imagination, we were slowly (very slowly, you might say) getting better through enforced daily usage** – as an old teacher used to say, ‘If you throw enough muck at the wall, some of it’s bound to stick.’ However, with the lack of regular practice over the last couple of months, bits of that muck are beginning to fall away.

Ah, cheap beer, cheap fun.

Reasonably priced beer (and other things)

One of the main reasons the Irish pub appears to be in terminal decline is down to price (for more on this, read http://bit.ly/MmS5bm). A pint in the pub is at least three times more than the price you can get it for at an off-license. 

In Colombia, however, beers in the ubiquitous tienda bars (for our favourites see http://bit.ly/17yN8HH) are very often cheaper than in takeaway locations – encouraging a bit of, ahem, healthy socialising. And we like to socialise.

It’s not all about beer, of course. An affordable, refreshing coffee and biscuit in the company of good friends also hits the spot. Again, something we’ve mentioned previously in Bogotá's simple pleasures http://bit.ly/Uzc3lk.

Keeping the peace.

Street food

Coupled with the above are the cheap snacks to be found on the streets – not in the rubbish bins, but for sale from vendors. 

Our personal favourite is the arepa packed with meat while a stuffed empanada is also agreeable from time to time. Outside of these evening time meals, we’re big fans of buying our fruit from street sellers, especially considering it generally retails at a fraction of the price compared to the supermarkets. One must be prudent with the pesos.

‘Extra’ demand

Now, while we did quickly become bored and frustrated working as an extra for various TV programmes – see http://bit.ly/NrbPc3 for the reasons why – we do miss the odd call from agencies requesting our services. Perhaps it’s an ego thing? 

Well, being egotistical is a prerequisite for those who want to make it in the acting world, right? Plus, the extras work gives us the opportunity to be on the right side of the law for a change.

High and mighty.

Altitude

As oft-detailed here, we’re fans of the high life; that is living a bit closer to the celestial stars as opposed to living it up with the so-called human versions (yes, we question their humanness). 

So while it’s not the highest perched capital city in the world, at 2,600 metres above sea level, Bogotá is lofty nonetheless. A close-to-perfect big city in which to be naturally high we feel. 

Or maybe that’s just all this sea-level air messing with our thoughts? A return journey might see us right. Time to get moving so.

___________________________
*One place to start in relation to our experiences with Colombian women is The Republic of Jealousy at http://bit.ly/ZrSQaN.

**Our Spanish got so good that we were even asked to do some promotional work for the Venezuelan government http://bit.ly/1a1I1er.

Our alcohol problem

A couple of weeks ago we were moved to reply to a letter from a Mr T. Broderick in the sports section of Ireland’s Sunday Independent. First of all, here’s the offending letter:

What would Bishop Brennan make of all of this?

“I watched the All Ireland hurling final last weekend and three things have really bothered me since then.
1. Should pundits/commentators be discussing and commenting on gambling during such a game? Michael Duignan got very excited about Liam Sheedy having a great bet for the draw at 14/1.
2. Should Michael Lyster be posing questions regarding players drinking after matches? Was he implying that they could not survive without a drink for another three weeks? Why would he pose such a question?
3. Cyril Farrell's comment about the Clare team "jumping in the Shannon" if they had lost that game. Is hurling that important? Did the Galway minors consider jumping in the Corrib when they got back to Galway after their loss? These words although said in jest are very powerful and could be heard differently by people in difficult situations.
What subliminal messages are said comments sending out to people dealing with gambling or alcohol problems or contemplating suicide? This banter also normalises these behaviours for our teenagers. What are they thinking listening to these comments?
These are serious problems and I know that the above-mentioned commentators did not mean to cause offence but they have a greater responsibility than maybe they realise.
With 1.3 million watching this programme at some stage, surely we should expect a higher standard of broadcasting?
Keep the pub banter for off air in the future.”*

This got our blood up at the time of reading it, so we decided to respond. Our riposte, below, was published the following week:

Ireland's own.

“What a brittle, brainless bunch we Irish ‘commoners’ must be, if the words of Mr T. Broderick are to be taken seriously.
A jovial brief chat by some ‘Sunday Game’ (a programme that covers the Irish sports of hurling and Gaelic football) analysts about a spot of betting and downing a few pints and this means that we’re all going to gamble away our house (those of us that have one that is) down at the bookies while making our way to the nearest hostelry to get inebriated.
Heck, perhaps we should ban the announcement of stock market news on the airwaves in case it encourages us ‘dumb masses’ to get involved in that dirty business too.
A typical Irish attitude, blame somebody else for any ‘problems’ we may have.
The phrase ‘grow a pair’ springs to mind.
In any case, you need to have a long, hard look at yourself if you heed the word of those working with the state broadcaster.”*

No prizes, then, for guessing where we’re coming from on all this.

For now, we're just going to focus on the alcohol issue. Irish people’s relationship with it has been quite topical in recent days – to be honest, it’s something that’s never too far off the national debating agenda here. 

The reason, though, why it’s back on the front pages is to do with Arthur’s Day. To the uninitiated this now annual event (for the time being anyway) was first introduced in 2009 to celebrate 250 years of the alcoholic beverage Guinness, the brainchild of Arthur Guinness, being brewed in Dublin.

Many see it – and we tend to agree – as purely a marketing ploy by Diageo, the owners of Guinness, to promote the consumption of its leading brand. 

More stringent critics say it gives an easy excuse for people to ‘go on the lash’ where otherwise they may not have bothered; the fact it is always fixed for a Thursday, traditionally a big student night out in Ireland’s big towns and cities, underscores this ‘excuse’ point for many.

However, alongside encouraging people to raise a pint glass ‘to Arthur’, the day (or indeed days as it now is) incorporates a number of music events sponsored by the drinks company. 

So with the once well-celebrated Irish pub apparently in terminal decline, if these free or cost-price music shows entice a few extra people out, isn’t that a good thing?

Our coffee is blocked out by all the bottles in the front.

As we wrote about before in more detail in An Irish lament, it’s not like Irish people are drinking less with the decline of the pubs; if anything, as a nation we’re drinking more than ever. 

The difference now is that most of it is done at home, away from prying, perhaps judgemental, eyes. Yes, it might be cheaper but it doesn't mean it's any better.

The question the whole Arthur’s Day should-we-shouldn’t-we debate brings up is as a country are we not responsible enough and mature enough to have such events, whether you support them or not, without us getting ‘ossified’ (drunk that is)? 

If you do drink to excess, that’s your issue – don’t be looking for others to blame. Are we meant to ban every occasion we like to celebrate, public or private, just because some people might over-indulge in alcohol?

While the Arthur’s Day experiment may die a quick death (and we won’t shed a tear for it), many other more internationally recognised and celebrated festivals such as St Patrick’s Day and Christmas won’t be going anywhere soon. Many Irish and a host of other nationalities will drink perhaps a little bit too much in marking these and other such events.

Go ahead we say, just don’t shirk the personal responsibility you have for your own actions. 

It’s something we’re slowly trying to learn. Without, that is, blaming the media or some marketing event for any drunken escapades we might get up to.
_________________________

*Both letters can be found in digital form on independent.ie. The first is here http://www.independent.ie/sport/other-sports/have-your-say-29580333.html, while our reply is midway down this: http://www.independent.ie/sport/other-sports/have-your-say-29596689.html.

For a previous article on a similar theme of being responsible for our own actions, see Survival of the dumbest http://bit.ly/NNg2E8.

And now for something completely different (well kind of)

We’re stepping out of our comfort zone somewhat this time around – a good thing to do every so often that, right? And with it we’re looking for your help and support (don’t worry, it doesn’t take much effort and won’t financially cost you!).

It’s all to do with the travel website jauntaroo.com’s search for a ‘Chief World Explorer’, or ‘The Best Job Around the World’ as it’s being dubbed. Basically the company is looking for somebody to travel the world for them for one year, where he/she will participate in voluntary projects and write and produce short videos of the places visited for the website and potential customers. And it all comes with a salary of $100,000. Not bad, eh?

Considering we’re ‘between projects’ right now (that’s how we’re putting it anyway) we thought we’d give the application a lash; that being a minute-long video explaining why the job is for us.

So, basic (very basic) equipment in tow, we put something together – perhaps not enough to make Quintin Tarantino feel like he should call it quits, but you’ve got to start somewhere. We are ‘cheese’ masters after all.

Where your help comes in is to give our video as many ‘likes’ as you can. To do that, click on this link http://www.bestjobaroundtheworld.com/submissions/view/12962 and hit the like button. We’re not sure if you actually have to become a member of jauntaroo.com firstly in order to like it (all that requires is an email and password if that is the case), but by clicking on the link you’ll find out!

You can like it every 24 hours up until the 01 October; so set a reminder each day up until then, won't you?!

The video itself is below (you can also watch it on YouTube at http://bit.ly/19OqqII) but remember in order to like it you must do so on the jauntaroo website from this link http://www.bestjobaroundtheworld.com/submissions/view/12962.

Thanks for your help guys!

No country for young men

As regular readers may have noticed (yes, all two of you), our inspiration to write has been a little low since our return home.

Hard at it ...

One explanation for this could be due to the very fact that we are back home and with it the associated comforts. 

Now, we must qualify that these comforts, such as free board and food, are purely because the powers that be understand we’re only meant to be here for a short stop; they’re not indefinite nor would we expect them to be. 

Also, the fact that it’s our first trip back after our longest stint away – specifically for a family wedding – has meant that it has been hard, in a nice way, to find as much thinking time as we tend to do in Colombia. People to catch up with, events to attend, and suchlike – you know how it is.

It must also be said that we’ve been enjoying the longer daylight hours that you get in Ireland at this time of the year – something we do miss when in Colombia (see previous post http://bit.ly/Xgz0J6). 

Plus – and we’re not just marketing the homeland here – the weather has actually been relatively good with little rain for the month or so we’ve been about thus far.

Throw in the odd radio interview (we have to market ourselves – listen at http://bit.ly/18CuOco), letters to newspapers* and trying to sort out the ridiculous paper work in a bid to secure a more stable return to Colombia while at the same time not really knowing if it’s the right move, and it’s pretty understandable that the Wrong Way creative juices have dried up somewhat, temporarily as it may be (or maybe not?).

Yet, another factor, perhaps, in all of this is familiarity breeding contempt. The land we know – and in many ways love – so well rarely changes. 

From a physical point of view, this is a good thing; but when it comes to the mindset of some of the people, it can become tiring. This is something that is especially common in rural areas as they have a more elderly population compared to the cities and commuter belts.

However, it’s not exclusively rural or elderly – Ireland as a country has often been slow, averse even, to change. We may travel the globe and populate its four corners but back on the island we tend to maintain the status quo, with just some minor, superficial tweaks every now and again.

Back to normality; the rain has arrived.

There’s a bit of an uproar when another scandal is revealed about our politicians or bankers or whoever, but it generally goes away again as quickly as it came on us. And at election time we tend to have the same sorry bunch looking up at us from the ballot paper – in a similar mould to previous candidates if not the same people – and we take pity on them, buying into them once again.

You can only read, listen and write about all this for so long until it just beats you with frustration and bleeds you dry.

So Ireland now (at least the rural areas), as it was before, is no country for young men it would appear.

Maybe, just maybe, we’ll find something to inspire us in that.
________________
*Surprise, surprise but we like a newspaper rant every now and again, slightly edited from the original as this may be: http://bit.ly/1cRPm3N.

For an earlier piece on Ireland and emigration, see On the road again, naturally http://bit.ly/14z2F3e.

Palomino and Cabo de la Vela — the lighter side to Colombia's Caribbean

For self-confessed inlanders, we do manage to spend a relatively nice amount of time on the coast when it comes to getting some rest and relaxation.

Sunset in Cabo de la Vela.

So after taking in parts of Colombia's secluded Pacific coastal region for our last 'voluntary' travels i.e. outside of visa renewals or specific events, this time around we headed back to the Caribbean, a part of Colombia we like to think we know very well.* 

That's largely based on the fact that we've been to the highlight city, Cartagena, on three separate occasions; taken in Sapzurro, Capurganá and Turbo (for more on the latter see http://bit.ly/SVtkWW); visited Santa Marta and stayed in Taganga; alongside travelling from Turbo via Cartagena to Maicao (that city's 'delights' are detailed here http://bit.ly/VG94Ho).

This time, however, we took in what might be described as a more tranquil side to this part of the country (the bustling port city of Santa Marta and the calmer Riohacha apart, that is — not that there is anything wrong with both places. They’re just bigger cities but have their own charms too).

Nice surprise.

That more tranquil, 'lost' side consisted of, firstly, Palomino and then Cabo de la Vela – where the desert quite spectacularly runs into the ocean. And for some peace and quiet, while at the same time getting that sense of adventure, neither location disappointed.

Palomino is described by many as Taganga of the 1990s; laid-back, reasonably priced and not very crowded with tourists. 

Of course, there is a risk that this could all change, especially as more people discover its treasures. What might keep some people away, though, is a constant strong ocean current, meaning a relaxing dip in the sea is not an option. 

However, with two river estuaries a short distance away, there are natural places to have a cooling-off swim, along with gentle tubing on offer down said rivers.

Being able to relax on a beach without a host of people constantly trying to sell you things was enough for us; throw in an unexpected photo shoot of a Colombian model right next to our sunbathing spot and we were more than happy with our time there.**

Downtown Cabo de la Vela.

In fact, we enjoyed ourselves so much that we had two stints in the village, stopping in for a second time on the journey back from Cabo de la Vela. 

For our first stop there we rented a hammock by the sea for $10,000 COP (roughly €4) per night. 

On the return visit, a chance encounter with a hostel employee saw us spend four nights in a small dorm room in newly opened lodgings about a ten-minute walk from the beach, closer to the actual village. That cost $13,000 COP per night, with access to a modern, clean (very important that), well-equipped kitchen. ***

Now, while Palomino is certainly a chilled-out spot, the fact that it is just off the main road between the cities of Santa Marta and Riohacha ensures that it never feels completely cut off from the outside world. 

The same cannot be said for Cabo de la Vela. 

Getting there is less straightforward, where asphalt roads give way to desert expanse making everything look pretty much the same. But like many of these secluded locations, the extra bit of effort (not that it’s that difficult) to get there is worth it.

Amigos.

For our own journey, even the required transfer stop at the nondescript Cuatro Vías de Maicao turned out to be an unexpected delight – four free beers (we’ll never say no to that) from the street vendors there while we waited for the next leg of the trip were well received in the hot midday sun.

The town of Cabo de la Vela itself is, unsurprisingly, quite basic with that tumbleweed-style feel to it. 

There are, we estimate, a few hundred residents – after a day it feels like you know all of them and they know you – and it gets plenty of tourists passing through, mostly in December and January. 

However, this is still very much Wayuú territory; unlike some other remote Colombian resorts we’ve visited, the indigenous here are the dominant force and haven’t been pushed to the margins. Indeed, Spanish plays second fiddle to the Wayuú native tongue in these parts.

A desert stroll.

On the what-to-do front, relaxing while taking in the scenery and stunning sunsets are pretty much the chief activities. 

Pilón de Azúcar, a sacred seaside hill overlooking golden sand beaches, is a must to take in. It’s about a 40-minute walk from the town if you fancy stepping it out in the heat, just make sure you take plenty of liquid and cover yourself up well – our nonchalant approach to this was almost our downfall. 

Alternatively, there are plenty of guys in ‘Cabo’ that will bring you there and back on a motorbike for a small fee.

The sport of kite surfing has found a suitable home here, with a never-ending strong gale blowing. There is also the option of taking a trip to Punta Gallinas, the furthest point north in South America. 

It’s approximately a two-hour jeep ride to get there and relatively costly; hence, on our tight budget, it was something we passed on this time. We like to give ourselves an excuse or two to return to such places.

Atop of Pilón de Azúcar.

We found a couple of nights in Cabo sufficient on this occasion – perhaps with a partner in tow it might be worth sticking around a bit longer. 

Our early morning journey back to the transfer town of Uribia – the nearest urban centre – was memorable for the fact that it seemed to be goat-slaughtering day. Thus, we were joined in our packed jeep by a few crying goats, all four legs tied together, ready to be dropped (and chopped) off in Uribia. A man’s got to eat, we guess.

Returning to our inland abode of Bogotá was nice – we’re not going to disown it just yet – but this latest coastal adventure certainly gave us food for thought. 

Just more examples of the plethora of treasures Colombia has to offer.
______________________
* See 'Lesser-spotted Colombia: Bahía Solano' at http://bit.ly/X3lWpV.

**For more on that photo shoot, visit http://www.revistadonjuan.com/galerias/andrea-escobar-el-angel-colombiano-de-victorias-secret/12993587/0.

***Hostal Urbe is the name of this place. It's located about three blocks off the main road heading towards the beach, down from the tienda 'Donde Leopoldo'.