Trip Through New Mexico's Red Rock Country

Ivy Peltz is like many people who go on tours or cruises alone: She doesn't like to room with strangers, but she also hates paying a single supplement—the fee many travel companies levy on singles who want their own two-person room. "It's like a double punishment," says the 51-year-old New York dentist. "You're going alone, and you have to pay more for the pleasure. If you are feeling sorry for yourself, the single supplement is a real slap in the face." Because of high fuel prices and the struggling economy, however, some industry experts say that tour operators and cruise lines may have trouble filling their slots in the coming year—meaning single travelers could have luck getting around the dreaded supplement. "But you need to know how to find the deals," says Lea Lane, author of Solo Traveler: Tales and Tips for Great Trips and editor of sololady.com, a site for single travelers. "Single supplements are like rack rates—you can usually do better." Here are tips on how to find a sweeter deal: Be the first one in line... Tour companies sometimes scrap the single supplement for the first few people who book trips the operators believe may not sell out. For example, Singles Travel International will waive the supplement for the first six people who sign up for a Solo Super Savers trip to Europe in early 2009 (singlestravelintl.com). To find this kind of early-bird special, ask a travel agent or check sites like sololady.com or Connecting: Solo Travel Network (cstn.org). CSTN lists its deals in a bimonthly newsletter that it e-mails to members—the one-time fee to join is $50. Your best bet is to start looking at least six months before a trip's departure date, as most tours begin to fill up after that. ...Or wait till the last minute Operators also occasionally reduce the single supplement as the deadline to book a tour approaches and they get desperate to sell any remaining spots. "If you can wait until the last week [before the sign-up deadline], chances are you'll get a deal," says Lane. "But it's a risk-reward kind of thing. You could miss out on the trip altogether." Some companies, such as Backroads (backroads.com) and Mayflower Tours (mayflowertours.com), also offer what's known as a "guaranteed share": If they can't find a roommate for you before a certain date, you'll get your own double room at no extra cost. This works only if there's an odd number of men or women on a tour, so check in with the operator regularly before the deadline to see how many people have registered. Last-minute deals are possible on cruises, too. Some companies try to off-load unbooked cabins in the weeks before a departure by offering "happy hour" specials in which they reduce the supplement. The sales are typically held the same day they're announced on the companies' websites, says Amber Blecker, a travel agent who founded a website listing discounts on supplements for solo cruisers: singlescruiseresource.com. Most travel agents receive advance warning of the sales. Negotiate with the operator You can always turn on the charm and try to persuade the tour company to drop the supplement. If you've got a good reason why you think you shouldn't have to pay, sell the operator on it. "I've mentioned a recent divorce and a first trip after being widowed—both true stories," Lane says. "Usually, I ask the company to waive the single supplement and then hope for an upgrade." Sometimes, you don't even need to give the company a reason—just be friendly and make your preference for a private room clear. "The person who makes the best impression will definitely stand out in the operator's mind and could receive a single room if it becomes available," says Beth Whitman, author of Wanderlust and Lipstick: The Essential Guide for Women Traveling Solo. Small-scale tour operators, such as Country Walkers (countrywalkers.com) and Mayflower Tours, generally have more flexibility than larger companies when it comes to giving single travelers a break on fees. "If the owner answers the phone, he can strike a deal right on the spot," says John Stachnik, president and co-owner of Mayflower Tours. "With a large company, the reservationist can't really diverge from official policy." He says to sweet-talk the booking agent by saying you will recommend the trip to friends and by stressing your discretion: "Assure the operator that you will not share information about your discount with other travelers on the tour." Travel when others don't Discounts for singles abound in the less busy off-season—summer in Mexico and the Caribbean, winter in Alaska—when tours and resorts have difficulty filling all their spaces. Globus, for example, has no supplement on 11 of its tours in Europe this winter, saving people as much as $550 per trip (globusjourneys.com). At the Club Med Turkoise resort in the Turks and Caicos, there was no supplement for solo travelers who booked a double room this past June (clubmed.us). The off-season is also a good time to save on the supplement on cruise ships, although the companies often do not advertise the deals. For example, Blecker says that some cruise lines, such as Royal Caribbean, charge less for the supplement on what they call "repositioning cruises," when companies move their ships from their summer cruising waters to their winter waters (from the North Atlantic to the Caribbean in the fall), or vice versa. "These kinds of specials are out there with the mainstream brands, but they're not so easy to find," she notes. "You should have a travel agent look on your behalf." Try a European operator Tour companies based in Europe are also less likely to charge a supplement, mainly because the fee is not an accepted part of the culture there. "Europeans are not as couple-oriented when it comes to travel," says Lane. "Plus, they're more cost-conscious and simply would not agree to pay the supplement, so tour operators have less choice. The market drives the cost." In addition, European companies often offer accommodations in family-run pensions and older hotels, which have rooms of varying sizes—including single rooms. For instance, Solo's Holidays, a British operator that specializes in organizing trips for singles, provides most of its customers with their own room at no additional charge (solosholidays.co.uk). Got any solo travel tips? Share yours by posting a comment below.

New York City When it comes to jazz joints in Manhattan, the question for baritone saxophonist Claire Daly is not where to go, but how many places she can pack into one night. Three of her favorite spots downtown are within blocks of each other. "They're friendly, local haunts," Daly says. "You could spend the whole evening at any of them, or club-hop from place to place." Daly usually starts her night at the Prohibition-era 55 Bar, where luminaries like Miles Davis alum Mike Stern often jam (55 Christopher St., 212/929-9883, 55bar.com). Then it's off to Sweet Rhythm, a hangout formerly home to Sweet Basil that attracts the best of the upstarts and such veteran players as drummer Lewis Nash (88 Seventh Ave., 212/255-3626, sweetrhythmny.com). By 1 A.M., Daly needs some sustenance, so she heads to the Garage Restaurant & Cafe, a swanky jazz supper club that serves steak frites and fresh Malpeque oysters during big-band shows (99 Seventh Ave., 212/645-0600, garagerest.com). New Orleans Double bass player Ben Jaffe came into this world to the beat of New Orleans's famed music. "My parents arranged for a band to play at the hospital the day I was born," Jaffe says. He ultimately followed in the footsteps of his late father, tuba player Allan Jaffe, and joined his dad's New Orleans–based ensemble, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. When the group isn't on tour, Jaffe often checks out two of his favorite acts, the New Orleans Jazz Vipers and trumpeter Shamarr Allen, at The Spotted Cat, in the Faubourg Marigny district adjacent to the French Quarter. "It's where locals go to hear acoustic jazz," he says. "The place is set up like a living room, so you can sit on a plush old couch and listen to music while watching passersby through the club's big bay windows." 623 Frenchmen St., 504/943-3887. St. Louis Whenever he visits St. Louis, reed player and bandleader J. D. Parran of Spirit Stage checks out Jazz at the Bistro in the stylish Grand Center arts district. The main room has family-style seating, so you can meet and mingle with such living legends as pianist Cedar Walton (3536 Washington Blvd., 314/289-4030). Parran's other local haunt is the Scott Joplin House State Historic Site. Ragtime notables, including Donald Ryan and Richard Zimmerman, play several shows a year at the house, still furnished as it was when ragtime legend Joplin wrote "The Entertainer" there in 1902 (2658 Delmar Blvd., 314/340-5790). Chicago According to trombonist Steve Swell, bandleader of Slammin' The Infinite, Velvet Lounge showcases some of the Windy City's coolest jazz bands. "The place was founded in 1982 by a fantastic elder statesman named Fred Anderson, who plays tenor sax there," Swell says. "Fred was an early member of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, which helped many black musicians develop and record their own music." Velvet Lounge moved to a new space in 2006, but die-hard fans will be glad to know it's still presided over by an enormous shabby-chic chandelier that was a hallmark of the old venue. 67 E. Cermak Rd., 312/791-9050, velvetlounge.net. Amsterdam, Netherlands "Everything about Bimhuis, from the comfy seats to the terrific sound system, is first-rate," says jazz composer and violinist Jason Kao Hwang. The concert hall overlooking Amsterdam's harbor puts on more than 300 concerts a year, featuring the best of the local scene and plenty of international stars, including sax player Pharoah Sanders. "Unlike at most venues, the bar is separated from the stage, so chatter doesn't disrupt the performance," Hwang says. But if you do take a break for a drink, you won't miss a note—music is piped into the bar. Piet Heinkade 3, 011-31/20-788-2188, bimhuis.nl. Cologne, Germany Jazz pianist Ursel Schlicht, who moved to New York City from Germany in 1995, has a soft spot in her heart for Loft in Cologne. (Owner Hans-Martin Müller, a jazz flutist, converted his apartment into the club in 1989.) "A lot of albums have been recorded at Loft because it has great acoustics," Schlicht says. "And the huge Steinway grand piano attracts the who's who of international and local new-jazz pianists, including Georg Ruby." As you'd expect from the name, Loft is an open space with seating that allows the audience to sit close to the musicians. "Because it's so intimate," Schlicht says, "it's easy to strike up a conversation with the players after each gig." Wissmannstrasse 30, 011-49/221-952-1555, loft-koeln.de.

BRAZIL Fernando de Noronha This island 225 miles off the northeast coast of Brazil is as pristine as they come, and it's determined to stay that way—visitors have to pay an environmental preservation tax (TPA) of $20 per day. But the surfing, diving, and snorkeling are so good, and the scenery is so lush, that no one seems to mind chipping in for the island's protection. Sleep: The bright, air-conditioned apartments at Pousada Del Mares are decorated with Brazilian artwork (Rua do Sol, Vila dos Remédios, 011-55/81-3619-1243, from $111). Fuel up: Surfers love Fernando's big family-style dinners, which have a tradition of joining locals and travelers together. Palhoça da Colina serves up one of the best spreads on the island—but make sure you have a reservation, and get there by 8:30 p.m. (Estrada da Colina 4, Vila do Trinta, 011-55/81-3619-1473, palhocadacolina.com, from $49). Hang out: Join the eclectic crowd at Bar do Cachorro, which thumps nightly with forró music—similar to a polka lost in island rhythms (Terminal Turístico do Cachorro, Vila dos Remédios). Surf: The friendly folks at Your Way will set you up with a local instructor suited to your level of experience (011-55/81-3619-1796, www.yourway.com.br, one-hour lessons from $31). MEXICO Troncones Though only about 50 miles from the larger resort communities of Ixtapa and Zihuatanejo, its rural setting, jungle backdrop, and eco-vibe make Troncones feel a world away. The town is a haven for surfers, who are lured by the miles of waves and white- and golden-sand beaches. Sleep: Quinta d'Liz is a clean and colorful B&B made up of six beachfront bungalows. Each has a private bathroom, and there's a communal kitchen (Playa Troncones, 011-52/ 755-553-2914, playatroncones.com, from $38). Fuel up: The resort food at Manzanillo Bay's garden-patio restaurant might seem a bit much for surfers (golden malted waffles with fresh fruit and cream, anyone?), but that doesn't seem to deter them. Of course, the nice surf break directly in front of the restaurant doesn't hurt (Playa Troncones, 011-52/755-553-2884, www.manzanillobay.com, breakfast from $4.25). Hang out: Go to the beachfront restaurant El Burro Borracho for local seafood like red snapper, shrimp tacos, and abalone fajitas. Wash it all down with a michelada: ice-cold Mexican beer that's accented with lime juice and salt (Playa Troncones, 011-52/755-553-2834, burroborracho.com, entrées from $6). Surf: ISA Mexico offers one-day group and private lessons year-round. From November through May, when the weather is more reliable and the waves are more rideable, it also conducts multiday surf camps (541/550-7343, isamexico.com, lessons from $50). PORTUGAL Ericeira With its cobblestoned streets and tiled buildings, Ericeira looks like a quintessential Portuguese fishing village. But north and south of the village center, scalloped cliffs give way to white-sand beaches and—much to surfers' delight—consistent right-hand reef breaks. Done surfing? Spend some time at the region's palaces and vineyards. Sleep: Pensão Gomes, home to 20 modest rooms, might be a little rickety, but the staff is so effusively friendly that you won't mind a bit (Rua Mendes Leal 11, 011-351/261-863-619, from $37). Fuel up: At Pão da Nossa Vila I, a café on the east side of the village square, the servers may be stoic, but the stiff cappuccinos, delicious pastries, and seven types of queques, similar to muffins, are anything but (Praça da Republica 12, 011-351/261-865-958, pastries from $1). Hang out: In the center of town, the cozy Neptuno Pub offers Super Bock beer and, occasionally, fado, traditional Portuguese music with soulful lyrics backed by acoustic guitar (Rua Mendes Leal 12). Surf: Na Onda Surf School has been teaching mere mortals to surf since 2003. It offers private lessons as well as multiday packages (Rua Patrocinio Ribeiro 7, 011-351/917-822-851, ericeirasurf.com, two-hour lesson $30, packages from $88). FRANCE Hossegor The combination of relaxed European living—think leisurely French lunches—and miles of beaches with waves for every level has lured surfers to this spot in southern France for 20 years. A word of warning: If you're looking for a little peace and quiet, don't schedule your trip for August, which is when the rest of Europe descends on the town. Sleep: All of the bungalows and cottages at Camping du Lac have full kitchens and sleep four to six people. Open April to September (580 route des Lacs, 011-33/5-58-43-53-14, camping-du-lac.com, one-week minimum in July from $386, two-night minimum for the rest of the season from $134). Fuel up: Surfers like to boost their energy levels with fresh fruit or vegetable juice from Le Café Sud (Les Terrasses de l'Océan, Capbreton, 011-33/5-58-43-42-64, lecafesud.com, juice from $5). Hang out: Follow the crowd to Rock Food, a restaurant and bar right next to the beach. When the Quiksilver Pro surfing contest is in town every September, the festivities last well into the night (place des Landais, 011-33/5-58-43-43-27, rockfoodhossegor.com). Surf: Surf Trip will teach you how to ride a longboard or shortboard, bodyboard, or bodysurf (011-33/5-58-41-91-06, 90-minute class $52). ECUADOR Montañita A relative newcomer on the surf scene, this tiny South American village is what some of the more established surf towns were like 20 years ago. Many of the accommodations are hostels or just barely a step above, but the bohemian international crowd wouldn't have it any other way. After all, the camaraderie—and consistently good waves from November through April—are why people come here in the first place. Sleep: About a block from the beach, the hostel Cabañas Pakaloro has 10 rooms and plans to open more before the end of the year. Each room boasts a private bath. Most have a balcony with a hammock, and there's a shared kitchen and courtyard (Guido Chiriboga Parra, 011-593/9-741-5413, pakaloro.com, from $8 per person). Fuel up: Go to Hotel Restaurante La Casa Blanca for the omelets and fruit smoothies, and stay for the board games in the open-air setting (Guido Chiriboga Parra and Costanera, 011-593/9-318-3202, continental breakfast $1.75). Hang out: The nightly happy hour at Tiki Limbo Restaurante tends to be the ignition point for beach bonfires and all-night fiestas (Guido Chiriboga Parra, 011-593/9-954-0607, montanita.com/tikilimbo). Surf: Montañita takes a laid-back approach to pretty much everything, surf lessons included. Rather than book in advance, simply meander along the three blocks of the main road, stop in one of the surf shops, and ask for a lesson. Rates start at $15 for a two-hour private session. HAWAII Haleiwa, Oahu They say that if you're not surfing the monster waves on the North Shore between November and February, you're not serious about surfing. Fortunately for novices, there are some small, gentle breaks, too. When you're not in the water, head to Haleiwa town for its surf shops, cafés, and shave ice, a sno-cone-like Hawaiian specialty. Flip-flops required. Sleep: Sharks Cove Rentals offers beach cottages with full kitchens and close access to Waimea Valley, Waimea Bay, Pipeline, and Shark's Cove, a favorite snorkeling spot (59-672 Kamehameha Hwy., 888/883-0001, sharkscoverentals.com, from $75). Fuel up: Big waves call for big breakfasts, and Café Haleiwa provides. Oversize omelets, banana pancakes, and breakfast burritos draw surfers, both before and after they ride the waves. (66-460 Kamehameha Hwy., 808/637-5516, breakfast from $6). Hang out: The pupus—the Hawaiian word for appetizers—and cocktails at Haleiwa Joe's Seafood Grill are a nice way to end your day, but it's the view, which is worth a whole lot more than the price of a mai tai, that makes this spot a favorite gathering place (66-011 Kamehameha Hwy., 808/637-8005, haleiwajoes.com, appetizers from $3.50). Surf: Hans Hedemann Surf, founded in 1994 by a former pro surfer from Hawaii, gives lessons at North Shore's Turtle Bay Resort (808/447-6755, hhsurf.com, two-hour lesson $75). COSTA RICA Dominical The breaks attract surfers, and the setting—rain-forest-covered mountains, the Río Barú, long stretches of beach—attracts everyone else. This small Pacific coast town has experienced a bit of the Costa Rican boom in the past few years (Internet cafés and tropical-fusion restaurants abound), but it has managed to hold on to its rustic roots. Sleep: Set just outside an 815-acre wildlife reserve, Hacienda Barú Lodge has a butterfly garden, bird-watching hikes, and some of the most beautiful orchids you'll ever see—all within walking distance of the beach (215-8000 San Isidro de P. Z., 011-506/2787-0003, haciendabaru.com, cabins for two $47). Fuel up: Tortilla Flats, right on Dominical Beach, is the go-to spot for a sandwich and a drink. Surfers love its California Chicken sandwich, a baguette with grilled chicken, avocado, tomatoes, and mozzarella (Playa Dominical, 011-506/2787-0033, tortillaflatsdominical.com, sandwiches from $5.50). Hang out: San Clemente Bar and Grill is the original surfer hangout, with a pool table, a ping-pong table, darts, broken surfboards hanging from the ceiling, and surf videos playing on the TVs (next to the soccer field on the main road, 011-506/2787-0055). Surf: When you take a surfing lesson from Green Iguana Surf Camp, you get use of the board for a full 24 hours. Don't worry about storing it—most local hotels have designated surfboard areas or will let you keep it in your room overnight (011-506/8825-1381, greeniguanasurfcamp.com, two-hour lessons from $40).

A week after I booked my tickets to Cartagena, the Colombian military launched an attack on a group of FARC rebels hiding in neighboring Ecuador, prompting Venezuela to move 6,000 soldiers to its border with Colombia. The raid was Colombian President Álvaro Uribe's latest attempt to quash the narco-terrorist group that had given his country a bad rap. I was annoyed. For months, my friends and family had questioned my sanity when I told them I was going on a trip to Cartagena, a jewel-box city in northern Colombia. Even my husband, Todd, who once tried to convince me to bungee jump off a bridge in Zimbabwe, asked if he needed to bring a bodyguard. The fact that the country was suddenly in the news wasn't helping my cause. But I didn't budge—we were going. Ever since my father had visited the 16th-century walled city when I was a kid, I'd been obsessed with seeing it for myself. After each of his trips, he told me what a magical place it was, a city that hadn't changed much since the Spanish founded it in 1533. And even in the 1980s—some of the most violent years of Colombia's civil war—my dad felt safe in Cartagena, far removed from the unrest in cities like Bogotá. On the plane, however, Todd still isn't convinced. "Remind me why we're doing this?" he asks. "Because Cartagena is not Bogotá, and even that city is OK to visit nowadays," I reply. Todd's seatmate, a man wearing a crisp guayabera, looks amused by our conversation. "I'm always happy to see Americans going to my homeland," he tells us. Now living in New Jersey, Carlos Bossuet Marino is on his third trip to Colombia this year. "You visit once and you have to go back—it has that kind of effect on people," he says. "That's why I bring different friends with me each time, to show them what this beautiful country is really like." We've divided our week between the Centro Histórico—where most of the city's European-style plazas and colonial sights are located—and the somewhat grittier but lively area of Getsemaní. Rather than stay in a hotel, I've booked us rooms at a couple of more intimate guesthouses, which have sprouted up in recent years. Since the mid-1990s, many Colombians have made Cartagena a second-home retreat, buying up old, neglected buildings at rock-bottom prices to convert them into restaurants, bars, and inns. Many of the guesthouses have just a handful of rooms and a couple staff members, so you really feel as if you own the place. There's just one catch: You may need a little luck finding them. After settling into our Moroccan-style room at Casa El Carretero in Getsemaní, I notice that our cheerful housekeeper, Alicia, keeps asking if we can find our way back to the hotel. "Sí, claro," I respond, letting her know that, sure, we can manage. What I don't seem to notice as we set out to explore is that our casa doesn't have a sign, and that all the houses on all the streets look strikingly similar—rows and rows of colorful buildings with identical arched doors. When I realize that I've forgotten my hat, we end up wandering the dusty streets for half an hour before finally stumbling upon the church plaza next to our place. Alicia laughs when I tell her that we got lost, then points to the fancy door knocker next door. So this is the secret to distinguishing one home from the next: Each knocker has a distinct personality. There are lioness heads, giant iguanas, and—Todd's favorite—a delicate hand cupped over a buzzer. Walking down streets just wide enough to fit one of the city's ubiquitous horse-drawn carriages, I'm reminded of San Telmo, the timeworn barrio in Buenos Aires where the tango was born. Life is lived here, and most of the time, it's in the streets. Old men push creaky carts laden with halved coconuts and corn pancakes, while teenagers carry carpenters' boxes packed not with tools but with thermoses. They're selling a quintessential Cartagenan drink known as tinto, a Dixie-cup-size shot of coffee. As we head toward the hilltop fortress of Castillo San Felipe de Barajas, the noonday sun is blazing, and people have their shutters swung open. A mix of Cuban and Colombian vallenato music pulses from every window, making me think of my father. He passed away suddenly a month before our trip, and I never got the chance to tell him I was visiting his beloved Cartagena. Now that I'm here, I feel oddly close to him. "I can see why he liked this place," I say, maneuvering around a donkey cart stacked with ridiculously long planks of wood. "I bet this is where he fell in love with Cuban music." It's then that I realize our climb up to San Felipe, which looked like a short walk from the rooftop of our hotel, is in fact a decent hike. In the hot sun. With no water. When we finally reach the fortress, which resembles a Mayan ruin, we scale the stone path to the top and are rewarded with panoramic views of Cartagena. The Spanish built the fortress and its surrounding walls in the 17th century to keep pirates from raiding their stockpile of gold and emeralds. Today, as we look out at the city, a flag at least 20 feet wide flutters above us, animated by the trade winds that carried the Spaniards here in the first place. Overheated, Todd and I hail a cab back to the casa and cool off in the rooftop pool before dinner. It's only 4 p.m., but the plaza below is hopping. Couples are dancing to music drifting from a café across from the church, and children are chasing each other in the street, dogs nipping at their ankles. In Getsemaní, most nights are like a big block party that lasts into the early morning, which could explain why some of the city's most popular bars and clubs are here, crammed on a stretch of Calle del Arsenal. We find a more subdued spot for dinner, an open-air parrilla called Casa de la Cerveza Cartagena built on top of the old city wall. The small-plates menu includes Creole baby beef kebabs, toasted plantains with cheese, and, for the more intrepid eater, fried tripe with yucca. As for the beer, forget pitchers—the brews on tap come in laboratory-style beakers with spouts for pouring. On the couch next to us, several young American and Colombian friends are on their third round, and one of the men, Sky Olson, asks us to join them. They're in town for a wedding reception the following day in Santa Marta, a sleepy beach town about four hours north of Cartagena. "I'm thinking about coming back to Cartagena afterward," Sky says, looking out at the San Felipe fortress, now dramatically illuminated by spotlights. "I've been on a Central and South American kick, and this city is my favorite, by far. You're going to be blown away by the Centro tomorrow." The city has also grown on Todd in the short time we've been here. "Cartagena reminds me of Venice," he says. "It has that same intangible magic about it." Awoken by the steady tap, tap, tapping of hammers chipping away at the crumbling façades of the buildings next to our casa—a sign there are more guesthouses in Getsemaní's future—we eat a quick breakfast and jump into a cab for the Centro. We go first to our hotel, Casa Boutique Veranera, where we're greeted by Gloria, the housekeeper, and a chipper Bosnian man, who we later learn is a table-tennis champion. He's also the boyfriend of Diana Chen, a former software developer from San Francisco who bought the house after becoming enamored with the city on a trip five years ago. Todd and I instantly love the place, which is decorated with quirky antiques and Asian lanterns, and has iPods loaded with local music in every room. As Gloria gathers our luggage, I hear something unmistakable in the background: one of my dad's favorite Cuban songs, "Chan Chan." It brings me to tears right there in the lobby. After I regain my composure, we follow Gloria to our room on the second floor, across from a dipping pool enshrouded in billowing white curtains. Each guest room in the casa is named for a different color. Ours is Rosada, a nod to the subtle pink touches in the decor, right down to the traditional Cartagenan floor tiles. Around 2 p.m., we tell Diana we're getting lunch at a new Mediterranean restaurant, La Cocina de Carmela, near Plaza de San Diego. "Carmela is one of the best chefs in the area," she says. "And it should be nice and quiet around this time of day." Plaza de San Diego, one of the most beautiful squares in Cartagena, is buzzing with guitar players, jewelry designers selling their wares, and students from the art school on the edge of the plaza. To add to the festive spirit, a trolley-style tour bus drives by, salsa music blaring from its speakers. La Cocina de Carmela, however, is indeed quiet when we walk in, because the early afternoon siesta that shutters most of the city has just ended. I'm tempted to order the prawn dish with chontaduro, a palm fruit native to the region, but I settle instead on the fusilli with blue cheese, nuts, and sliced white onions. The dish could easily feed two, but that's not why I find it hard to finish. Just a few minutes into our meal, I hear "Chan Chan" start to play. I look at Todd in disbelief, blinking back tears. He immediately asks for the check. To orient ourselves in the Centro after lunch, we start at its heart, Plaza de Bolívar, a verdant square surrounded by the Santa Catalina de Alejandria Cathedral and The Palace of the Inquisition. We arrive at the same time as the cruise-ship day-trippers and, as if on cue, men from nearby jewelry shops descend on the plaza, trying to coax people to follow them to their stores. "Esmeraldas bonitas," repeats one man as he trails us to the palace. The irony is not lost on me: Those "pretty emeralds" were why the Spaniards fought so hard in the 16th and 17th centuries to retain control over Cartagena. The Spanish also used the city as a base for trying heretics during the Spanish Inquisition. The palace where the trials were held is not for the faint of heart—it's stocked with torture and execution devices. In a sunny courtyard, I watch as tourists pose by a guillotine, the cathedral's steeple piercing the sky above them. A few blocks south of the cathedral, at Plaza de los Coches, I notice a flurry of activity in a passageway bordering the square. Vendors wedged in between the corridor's massive stone pillars are selling all sorts of confections from enormous glass jars—shredded-coconut patties colored hot pink, tamarind balls rolled in sugar, and dolls molded from dulce de leche. We've stumbled onto Portal de los Dulces (Alley of Sweets), and Todd couldn't be happier. While he samples the sundry goodies, I stock up on souvenirs. An elderly woman passing by sees me buying the cheeky muñecas de dulce de leche in bulk and smiles. "I've been coming here since I was a little girl," she says. "And those dolls are as sweet as ever!" I have a confession to make: If I said I felt safe the entire time I was in Cartagena, I'd be lying. Over lunch one day at La Cevicheria—a tiny restaurant serving inventive ceviche dishes using ingredients like mozzarella cheese and barbecue sauce—Todd suggests taking a day trip to the Rosario Islands, 25 miles from Cartagena. The islands are a nice alternative to the beaches at Bocagrande, a strip of land on the southern tip of the city that's filled with giant, cookie-cutter apartment buildings—and best avoided. When I'd mentioned this very day trip to Todd in New York, he had said, "Not only do you want to go to Colombia, but you want to take a boat ride off Colombia?" Now, he's feeling adventurous. "Let's do it," he says, "before I change my mind." The next morning, we board a speedboat to go snorkeling in the turquoise waters off Isla Pavito, an island that's owned by the Dolphin Dive School, the outfitter taking us out to sea. About 45 minutes into the ride, I see a speck of an island with a modest thatch-roofed bungalow. Upon closer inspection, I realize it's actually the boathouse for a mansion on a private island. Some of the 27 islands in the chain are off-limits; they're rumored to be owned by people who made their fortunes in decidedly less-than-legal ways. The largest island open to visitors is Isla Grande, which has several pricey hotels. A more secluded option is Isla del Pirata, which has just one place to stay, Hotel Isla del Pirata, composed of a dozen bright-yellow bungalows near the beach. Once we drop anchor, our guide fits us with fins and jumps into the water, gesturing for us to follow. "What about life jackets?" I ask as he swims away. "Don't worry, you'll be fine without one," Todd says, abandoning both wife and ship. I'm a strong swimmer, I tell myself, even though the waves around us are shaking the boat. So, taking a deep breath, I jump. The underwater scenery really is spectacular: deep coral canyons inhabited by schools of electric-blue fish and miniature ones speckled with blue dots. For an hour, I forget that a) I am miles away from the mainland, and b) the waves are getting higher. It isn't my imagination. As the boat speeds back to Cartagena in the choppy water, I'm white-knuckling my seat. Is it me, or is the driver going really fast? Then, as the boat crashes down on a huge wave, the fiberglass cracks in a jagged line down the inside of the boat next to my seat. I look at Todd, and we start laughing. "The things you talk me into," I shout over the wind. Luckily, we make it back to shore. When another passenger asks the driver about the crack, he simply says, "No problem, we'll just patch it up." Our last night in Cartagena, I talk Diana and her boyfriend into joining us for drinks (and maybe some dancing) at Café Havana in Getsemaní. During the day, the club looks like an abandoned building, with its floor-to-ceiling windows shuttered tight. By night, it's a different story—you can hear the music from more than five blocks away. It feels fitting to end our trip at a place with live Cuban music and what I'm told are the best mojitos in town. We arrive around 10 p.m., just as a band is setting up on the stage, the fiddler tightening his strings. Photos of Cuban musicians are plastered on the walls, and couples are cuddling at the bar, squeezed in beside old men wearing guayaberas and neatly pressed slacks. "I feel like we could be in Cuba," I say to Diana, mentioning the many times we've heard "Chan Chan" in Cartagena. Earlier, Todd and I had eaten dinner at a scrappy little Cuban restaurant, La Bodeguita del Medio, where a projection screen showed concerts from the homeland, including one band that performed a moving rendition of the song. "Yes, the song is popular in Cartagena," Diana says. That's when I learn that "Chan Chan" is a meaningful song not only to me, but for the many Cuban émigrés who've settled here. "The rhythm of the song really encapsulates Cartagena's soul," Diana adds. The band starts playing, and Diana is quickly swept up in the crowd of dancers forming around the bar and snaking its way outside. Women of all ages sway their hips, and the waitresses do their best to keep from doing the same. Then I hear those familiar, melancholy chords. Except this time, I don't cry. LODGING Casa El Carretero Calle del Carretero 10B-18, Getsemaní, 415/508-3927, casaelcarretero.com, from $165 Casa Boutique Veranera Calle Quero 9-65, San Diego, 011-57/5-664-1111, casaveranera.com, from $189 Hotel Isla del Pirata Isla del Pirata, 011-57/5-665-2952, hotelislapirata.com, from $279 FOOD Casa de la Cerveza Cartagena Calle del Arsenal and Baluarte San Lorenzo del Reducto, Getsemaní, 011-57/5-664-9261, casadelacerveza.com.co, plates from $8 La Cocina de Carmela Calle del Santísimo 8-10, San Diego, 011-57/5-664-8298, entrées from $11 La Cevicheria Calle Stuart 7-14, San Diego, 011-57/5-664-5255, ceviche from $9 La Bodeguita del Medio Calle Santo Domingo 33-81, Centro Histórico, 011-57/5-660-1993, entrées from $11 ACTIVITIES Castillo San Felipe de Barajas 011-57/5-656-0590, smpcartagena.org, $7 Santa Catalina de Alejandria Cathedral Plaza de Bolívar, Centro Histórico, 011-57/5-655-1916, tierramagna.com, $6 The Palace of the Inquisition Plaza de Bolívar, Centro Histórico, 011-57/5-664-7381, $6 Dolphin Dive School Parque Fernandez Madrid and Calle del Curato 38-08, San Diego, dolphindiveschool.com, day trip to Isla Pavito from $67 (with lunch and gear) SHOPPING Portal de los Dulces Plaza de los Coches, Centro Histórico, candy dolls 50¢ NIGHTLIFE Café Havana Calle Media Luna and Calle del Guerrero, Getsemaní, 011-57/315-690-2566, cafehavanacartagena.com, mojito $5