The heat hit me as soon as I stepped off the plane in Cartagena. It was 7pm, dark, and about 30 degrees outside. In the taxi, we drove past palm trees and beaches, waves lapping the shore. I was on the Caribbean coast, the place I have been most looking forward to on my trip, sweaty and excited.

Cartagena is a beautiful colonial town right on the coast. Colourful houses line the narrow streets with lush bougainvillea spilling from the balconies. It is a popular holiday destination for traveller and tourists, Colombian and international. Temperatures have been reaching 34 degrees during the day; being out of the shade around midday is pretty much unbearable. I’ve spent my days bathing in a mud volcano, a lagoon, and the Caribbean Sea to keep cool. I know, it’s been tough.

Due to the high temperatures, I was limited to running first thing in the morning or in the evening after sunset. In favour of lie-ins, I opted for the evening option. Running at night also allowed me to see the Christmas lights around the town. It really doesn’t feel Christmassy to me here; seeing snowflake lights hanging from Palm trees is just a bit weird. Cartagena has a reputation for being one of the safest places in Colombia due to the high police presence in support of the tourist industry. So I figured my run would not result in a mugging/hostage situation either.

The Old Town of Cartagena, where I have been staying, is surrounded by a huge protective wall. In some places it is over 5m thick and really puts our fair toon’s wall and keep to shame (sorry). I had noticed that at night the wall is dotted with people drinking, being romantic, and enjoying the views of the city and the sea. I set off, running the perimeter of the wall. Pretty views and smiling faces punctuated my route. However, running on a 400 year old wall in the dark is not without its hazards. There is no fence or wall to the city side, so I kept my distance to avoid tumbling 5m down to the flowerbeds below. I had a few jolts and bumps over steps and lumps I hadn’t spotted but managed to stay on my feet for the whole circuit.

Leaving the wall to return to the hostel, I bounced through the streets, which were bustling and lively with people having left work and enjoying their evenings. The local evening culture involves a lot of socialising in the streets. Fruit and street food stalls are set up in the Plazas and people gather to music, chatting and dancing. Kind of puts a Monday night in with Corrie, to shame. Whilst trying to take a snap of a fruit stall I was stopped by a local guy who insisted I took a picture of him with his van, and then one with me and him. So just to prove to you that I am actually running over here, this is the picture of me looking shiny, red and sweaty in 26 degree evening heat with my new pal. After a few minutes of broken Spanish being exchanged (on my part), I said goodbye and made my return. I was welcomed by a girl in my dorm exclaiming ‘Rosa es roja!’ and lols all round. I really was.