I write this from the security of my hotel room situated on the 10th floor of the building. From here everything looks idyllic, my balcony (I have a balcony!) overlooks the glimmering ripples of the pacific as it meets the freshwater flowing out of Valle del Cauca's mesh of tangled waterways. I can see the jetty from here, look down Calle 1 and  can listen quite clearly and distinguish the lyrics, from ten storey's up, of the salsa booming out of the box the carwashers have set up on the street as they attend to every stationary car. It all seems perfect from here.

It is hard to believe when you see the photos accompanying this blog that everything is not well here in Buenaventura. Being Colombia's largest and most important port on the Pacific you can only imagine what ills that brings to a city. Last week the BBC  reported the discovery of yet another cartel owned drugs sub being discovered here. I guess the real question that arises is that if the authorities have found one, how many have made it through the net?

All last week friends in Bogota have been warning me about Buenaventura. I heed all warnings but take a great deal of them in my stride as so often is the case, Bogotanos have an unreal grip on what is happening beyond the capital. But, for the most part they have been right this time. Even my taxi driver - Fernando - on the way in from the airport has been telling me to remain cautious. I recall reading about this city's murder rate...

this is what Wikipedia has to say about the place

Buenaventura has had a notorious history plagued by drug trafficking, violence, and the presence of guerrilla and paramilitary groups. In the last two years, the amount of reported homicides has doubled. The murder rate that is 24 times that of New York City. To counter the violence, the Colombian government has set up a marine special forces unit in the worst area of the city in order to quell the violence.

Wary of any and all threats, I hired Fernando to be my guide and drive me around the parts of the city he felt that I should see. We drove up a mild hill and he pointed out a viewpont...but of course the balcony of my room has a better view, we then paused at an open air market and he said to me earnestly:

"You are never to go in there. There is a turf war between Paramilitaries and the Guerrillas in there."

As you can imagine I am becoming more ill at ease as I realise that there is little to see here in addition to Fernando's cautionary tales. We have been driving for 40 minutes and have covered an area of 5 or 6 city blocks in which he points out cash machines, hotels, bars and clubs that sailors come to in order to secure "chicas de la vida alegre".

Finally, at the hour point of the tour, I push some money into Fernando's palm thanking him for the insightful tour and move out to the tourist jetty. From here I wander along the sea wall into a haze of marijuana smoke. At this point I cannot tell where it is coming from, I stop, a massive cargo ship passes and so I line up my camera to get some shots. Before I know there are three 20 something guys authoritatively informing me that my line of fire for the camera should be away from them.

I snap a shot and notice a small crowd of people congregating nearby. Quite clearly a business transaction is taking place. They don't see too many europeans about these parts and I have attratcted a fair amount of interest, pad and pen in hand and camera slung about my neck.

I decide to leave. Which is where you now find me, on the balcony on the 10th floor of my hotel. I can see the transactions from here but since the sun is behind me, I reckon they cannot see me.   

Tomorrow I shall head to Cali.