Fourth Journey Day 103: Salt-Worn Stories
San Andrés continues to reveal its many layers. Today I left the coast behind and made my way to La Loma, the oldest settlement on the island. The air felt heavier inland, the humidity clinging to my skin, but the quiet charm of the village made up for it.
I walked past brightly painted houses, their wooden panels worn by the salt air. Children played in the shade of mango trees, their laughter blending with the soft rhythm of reggae music wafting from open windows. At a small roadside stand, I met an elderly Raizal woman selling handmade coconut sweets. She spoke of her ancestors, of stories passed down through generations, of a time before the island became a tourist hub.
In the afternoon, I visited a modest church perched on a hill. The view stretched across the island, the deep blue of the sea blending seamlessly into the sky. I sat for a while, letting the wind carry the sound of distant waves.
There is a quiet resilience to La Loma - one that speaks through its people, its music, and its traditions. A different kind of beauty, far from the beaches, but just as profound.
