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Cartagena was hot. Too hot. And I was feeling a bit warn down. After five months in Central America I had finally landed in my first and only (for now, at least) stop in South America: Colombia. And I wasn't in love. I was afraid that I wouldn't be. Colombia was one of those places that was talked up so much as being a favorite country, a must-see, that I worried that it wouldn't live up to the hype. And while Cartagena was pretty, while the food was cheap and plentiful, while it was a nice town, I wasn't feeling it. It didn't help...

My sunburnt arm pressed into the wooden deck. My head, propped up with a balled up, wet, pink elephant-print sarong I'd purchased in Thailand. My eyes were closed and I breathed in and out with the waves. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but I was just trying to block out the nausea. The sun was setting on my fourth day of what was meant to be a five day sailing trip: we had officially hit open water that afternoon. For the first few hours I did doing nothing but sit, staring at the horizon. "Everything is going to be...