Love Is Not Hard Work - San Andrés

Isla de San Andrés, Colombia

It was our last day on the island, as well as in Colombia. Two weeks had flown by since we landed at Bogotá, and we had enjoyed ourselves spectacularly everywhere. San Andrés was the last in a string of positive surprises. When I was doing research for the tour, I had two opinions and almost did not include it in the itinerary. Now, we were glad I did. 

San Andrés is a small Colombian island in the Caribbean, actually closer to the Nicaraguan coast than the mainland. Due to complex historical reasons, it has remained part of the Colombian territory. It is known for white sand beaches, crystalline multi-colored waters and coral reefs. Unlike many other Caribbean islands, it is not a destination for the ultra-rich or luxury seekers, and we adored the laid-back and unpretentious atmosphere. There was a feeling of being among regular people.

We took a flight from Cartagena to San Andrés, with a duration of 1 hour and 25 minutes.

Slow, multi-colored Caribbean days

The island offers plenty of aquatic activities and boat tours, but we had done so many guided tours in the previous cities that we only wanted to chill out and enjoy each other’s company. 

In the mornings, we had a late breakfast, then wandered down to the nearest beach, a three-minute walk from the hotel. There was no need to make reservations, we just arrived and asked for a spot. Instead of umbrellas, this beach featured tent-like white shelters which gave excellent sun protection. Smiling young staff members kept running back and forth, taking orders for drinks and snacks. The hours passed just like that, doing nothing, except watching the turquoise waves and following the fluffy white clouds in the Caribbean sky. 

In the evenings, after dinner, we took a stroll on the beach boulevard. It was early January, so the festive lights were still on, adding to the magic. Every night, we walked past numerous families who had set up camp with their own boomboxes, and all generations were dancing salsa together. A couple of times, I had to stop in awe to watch the grandmothers. I could never make my hips move like that!

The beach club’s tents provided excellent protection from the sun.

We loved the white sand and the palmtrees.

The San Andrés days felt like a dream. 

To alleviate the sadness of having to leave the island, I organized a last day’s surprise for Umberto: reservations at a floating beach club. I had read about the concept but never tried it. It could be fabulous - or not, let’s see.

It, too, turned out to be a great choice. All we had to do was show up at the tourist port in the morning and they picked us up. A small boat transported us to the club, which I would describe as a mobile wooden island featuring sunbeds and a bar-restaurant. We were among the first guests to arrive, so we could pick the sunbeds we wanted. 

Latin dance music was blasting out of the loudspeakers. The waiter brought us welcome cocktails, and the island started moving. A bigger boat was towing it further out to sea. Anchors were dropped in a zone where the turquoise sea was shallow and guests could jump in for a swim from all sides of the float. Umberto was impressed by the surprise, he had not expected anything like this.

The small boat kept zigzagging between the port and the club, and more people kept arriving. A few hours later, it was crowded, a real party atmosphere! We got invited to celebrate somebody’s birthday. I pretended to know how to dance salsa and Umberto, not a drinker, secretly poured his whisky in the sea.

We were the first to arrive so could choose any sunbed.

Umberto sipping a drink in front of the bar at the floating beach club. This was in the morning, before it got crowded.

The Drama Queen arrives

At some point in the afternoon, I noticed a woman that I had definitely seen before. Early thirties, tall, blonde, pretty. She kept talking on the phone but the music was so loud I could not hear anything. How she could maintain a phone conversation with those decibels, I have no idea. Then I remembered, we had seen her at the airport. Twice, actually. 

Before boarding a flight to San Andrés, you have to pay an island-specific tourist tax. The airline gives you a receipt stapled on a form,  to be shown upon arrival. Many of the landing tourists had not filled in the form in advance, including her and her male companion. She made a big drama about it in the long and sweltering immigration line. A bit later, we saw them again outside the terminal. There were no cars waiting at the taxi rank and she, dramatically, made it sound like it was his fault - the boyfriend, or husband. Our hotel was only a kilometer away, so we put one foot in front of the other and walked. No big deal.

I would have not paid any more attention to her now, had she not been on the same boat to go back to town. No male companion in sight this time, though. She kept talking on the phone, ranting and rambling loudly. It was impossible not to hear her now. She was opening up about her love life, probably to a girlfriend, entirely unmindful about the people around her. I looked at Umberto and he rolled his blue eyes with a smirk and a shrug.

“Non siamo tutti uguali, che vogliamo fare…” I could read his expression even if there were no words. “We’re all different, what can you do…”

It was early January, and the festive lights were still on.

Love is not hard work. 

The boat dropped us at the tourist port, we thanked and tipped the skipper and we started heading back to the hotel.

“What was that all about?” Umberto inquired once we were alone. He, too, had recognized the raging lady from the airport. I did not feel like repeating the entire rant, so I just gave him a six-word summary and translated the last phrase I had heard: 

“Oh, she was complaining about her man… and saying that love is hard work.” 

Umberto raised his eyebrows again, but didn’t say anything. We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound was our flip-flops slapping rhythmically against the heels. This is typical of us. We're often silent together. It’s a comfortable, soothing silence, shared breathing.

“No, it isn’t,” Umberto stopped walking and cut the silence.

I find it amusing how he sometimes needs to stop in order to say something, as if it wasn’t possible to walk and talk at the same time. Maybe it’s a male thing?

“What isn’t… what?” I was confused. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about now. To be honest, I had expected him to ask me where we would go for dinner. 

“Love. It is not hard work. She needs to grow up. And the guy, whoever he is, he’s chosen the wrong woman,” Umberto responded and started walking again.

“So, where are we going for dinner?”

The beach near our hotel.

“Our love is like a San Andrés vacation.”

Getting ready to go out that evening, I thought about Umberto’s words. He was right.

“Love is hard work” is a catchphrase. We see it in magazine articles, blogs and self-help books. We hear it in films and television series. It’s an internet meme. It’s a Van Morrison song. I’ve even seen it on mugs and t-shirts. Many people keep saying it. I have, too, in the past. But it’s not true.

If it feels like hard work, something else’s going on, it’s not love. Instead, it can be emotional unavailability, immaturity, possessiveness, jealousy, fear of being alone. It can be unresolved issues in the past raising their heads. It can be ego talk. Or you’re simply with the wrong person. 

Love is not hard work if you’re with the right person. 

Then I had a funny thought: “Our love is a bit like this vacation in San Andrés.” 

How so? Well…

The initial logistics to get there were a bit complicated. But since we arrived, it’s been easy-going, down-to-earth fun, unpretentious. No need for yachts, designer clothes or expensive watches. No drama either, but plenty of sun and fun and great food. Every now and then, there is a tropical rainshower, but it passes quickly and we are already wearing bathing suits so we’re prepared. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty wonderful. The only real problem is, time has been passing far too quickly.

See what I mean?

*****

Our San Andrés favorites

We flew from Cartagena, Colombia, to San Andrés on Lat Am Airlines. We have flown LatAm to other South American destinations and have been happy with their service each time.

We stayed at Aquamare Hotel. Great central location, easy walk to the beach, restaurants, shopping and the airport. We had a spacious room with a balcony and sea view. The swimming pool on the 5th floor is very nice, also featuring a partial sea view. And one thing I always appreciate in a hotel: a decent gym.

Serrana Marisqueria was our favorite restaurant in San Andrés, we had dinner there on two evenings.

Sunset Paradise Beach | Floating Bar - Restaurante. This is the one, and now you know what it’s like!

I am no angel, but I loved San Andrés Island.

This is the last pic taken of me in Colombia - this time. I’ll be back soon!