Josef sighed. From his seat near the departure screens he could see that the status for the 9:00 AM flight from SFO to CTG had just changed from "On Time" to "Delayed." The large window to his left revealed the likely culprit: a low-lying river of cold fog.
Compulsively he swiped his phone, staring again at the awkwardly cold goodbye texts he had exchanged with his ex-fiancée. He knew they each meant well, but they hadn't figured out how to talk to each other now that their relationship was over. He hoped distance and a break would help.
He slipped his headphones in and closed his eyes.
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Josef woke from a sweaty half-sleep as the bus's whine down-shifted to a growl. The pockmarked window to his left framed a bright Caribbean inlet full of fishing boats and through the windshield he could catch snippets of the coastal village at the end of the descent.
He'd been in the bus for more than five hours. He'd been in the country for just over two days. He really needed to pee.
Five minutes later they came to a grinding stop at the first intersection in town. Josef pulled his headphones from his ears and stuffed his already bent and rumpled book into a small backpack before stretching and joining the slow moving line in the aisle. The stocky Colombian woman in front of him slung a trussed chicken over her shoulder. The forced immobility of its body was belied by the rapid flickering of its eyes.
The two Australians behind Josef joined the queue as well, continuing the endless discussion of which particular areas of corporate law they hoped to focus on that had plagued the pre-sleep part of Josef's bus ride. The girl was actually cute in a waify way, but her apparently genuine fascination with the details of commercial paper and/or transactional intellectual property law--she couldn't decide--robbed Josef of any attraction he might have felt. Not her fault really.
While he waited for the driver to unload the bus's luggage compartment, Josef looked around. The ocean was two blocks away down a slight slope and from where he stood he could see a row of food carts lining the road that ran alongside the water. The streets between the bus stop and the ocean were paved, but those that wound away from the water were pitted dirt and gravel. Houses--most concrete blocks, a few made of uneven bricks--lined the edges of those roads until the buildings petered out and the streets became footpaths that wound into the green-spined hills.
He dug his guidebook out of his small bag and flipped to the dog-eared page on the village of Taganga. The hostel recommended to him by a friendly German he'd met in Cartagena was circled, but it took Josef a moment to locate it on the small map of the town and another moment to place himself in relation to it.
Bags were appearing out of the bus's undercarriage, and he moved forward to watch for his. The Colombian woman and her unfortunate chicken retrieved a pallet of soft drinks and moved away down the town's main road. The chattering Australians slung brand new packs onto their shoulders and sauntered off in the same direction. By the time his own rather worn looking backpack emerged the crowd of passengers had dwindled to two.
Josef was turning to leave when he heard the remaining passenger begin to interrogate the bus-driver in rather proper sounding English.
"Where's my bag? Is there another compartment? I loaded it myself, so I know it's on the bus!"
"No entiendo, señorita."
"My bag! Where is it!"
"Ah, su mochila. No sé, no esta aquí." The driver gestured at the empty baggage hold.
"I don't understand! Where is it?"
Josef sighed and internally debated just continuing on to his hostel. He wanted nothing more than to sleep (and to empty his bladder) but he knew he'd feel guilty if he just walked away.
"Can I help?" he asked the English girl.
"Do you speak Spanish?" she turned towards him hopefully. He hadn't mastered the rather impressive range of British accents but hers reminded him of the BBC radio voices that his parents had listened to on occasion. and experience taught him she was likely from London.
"Badly, but apparently a little bit better than you at least," he answered.
She frowned at him. She was pretty. Clearly of Indian descent; long black hair and almond skin, with judgmental grey-green eyes.
"Sorry," Josef said, "I'll ask him about your bag."
The driver insisted he knew nothing about the bag. He let them look in both of the compartments under the bus and they were empty. The girl was almost in tears by the time they finished searching.
"I'm sorry. It happens. Either one of the other people on the bus grabbed it before you got off, or it was taken at one of the stops we made on our way here," he told her.
"All my clothes were in it! And my toiletries. And my shoes! My trip is ruined and I've only been here a day."
"Do you have your wallet and your passport at least?" Josef asked.
"Yes. Thank god. They're in this bag. And my laptop too." She indicated the small backpack she wore.
"Then you're alright. You can replace your other bag and you can buy new clothing. All you've lost is a little time and money."
He could see that she was on the verge of tears, but right before they started she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
"You're right. What's an adventure without a few hiccups?"
Josef smiled at her. She smiled back.
"That's the spirit. Do you know where you're staying? I would offer to carry your bag there, but well... you know."
She smacked him in the shoulder.
"Ass. I had a hostel picked out, but my guide book was in the bag that you so gallantly won't be carrying. Do you know where you're going?"
He pointed at the nearest road that led away from the beach.
"That way," he paused, looking around. "I think." She rolled her eyes.
"I'm Josef, by the way."
"Mira. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid to me you'll always be the boy who couldn't find my bag." They shook hands.
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The road to Josef's chosen hostel skirted an unoccupied dirt soccer field on its right. On their left they passed three ramshackle restaurants, one outfitted with a stand selling woven bracelets. Mira's eyes roamed everywhere.
"Is this your first big trip?" Josef asked.
"Yeah, I've travelled some in Europe and India, but this is my first proper time backpacking. I quit my job a month ago and here I am."
He eyed her carefully. "Accountant?"
"How dare you!" She glared at him, and then paused. "Investment banker."
"Ha! Is there really a difference?"
He got smacked in the shoulder again.
