I couldn’t believe it , there it was , U.V.F , sprayed up there with the rest of it . Where the fuck was I .
Not pretty , not ugly and not a backpackers place . Not big not small and not a lot of busking going on either . Well theres some but not much , you could nearly do without pitching here .
Cartagena is certainly a navy town boasting Spain's first naval military base and it also credits the invention of the first torpedo powered submarine .
I did a pitch on the calle Florentin , one of the centre cut off’s . I made a few tips , an old lady offered me half a packet of biscuits . That happens when people are unfamiliar with what you are doing .
There was something else I had to do while I was here , well this is a navy town and I knew the score . Sailors bars can be rough , but theirs plenty of loose woman there .
I ended up with a middle aged fatty still on her moons . That didn't bother me , man I was really thirsty and I was tired of bashing my bishop . We took a night bus to the other side of Cartagena , indeed a Spanish housing estate , believe it , it’s not all villas and beach apartments here . Bad graffiti and burnt out stolen cars blocked the entrance . A Manchester no go area , only warmer , just that . I did it once at night , I did it again in the morning , blood ´n`all . What’s the difference it saved me a magazine , of which can be pretty expensive , I got a place to stay too .
Outside it was an ugly grey day maybe reflecting my dry mouth , bad nerves , deep regret and blood stained trousers . I was indeed greeted with hostile stares from dark skinned , hard looking types , some were young some were a bit older .They asked me where I was going and what I was doing . After I told them I didn't have any money and with the help of my Am harmonica I then musically described to them what I was planning on doing . I had to improvise , I may as well go down with a blues note or two , not just with my blood stained trousers . They only laughed and wished me the best though .