Cartagena & Cured Hearts

Bioluminescent plankton in Colombia and getting over heartbreak

I spent New Year’s going into 2025 in San Andrés, a Caribbean island that is part of Colombia.

Before that, I was in Cartagena de Indias. I spent a few days there as a tourist, walking through its colorful streets and visiting its famous attractions. During my senior year of college, I lived with a Colombian girl, and it was always funny using her slang and expressions with locals. They would immediately ask how I learned them.

This was an unforgettable trip for many reasons.

It was my first time in Colombia, and everything felt new.

I had also just broken up with a not-really-my-boyfriend-but-we’re-definitely-more-than-friends.

And I was sad.

Sad, but determined not to let a “loser” ruin a trip I had been looking forward to for months.

I had spent six months building a relationship with someone who didn’t want to be in a relationship with me. We did everything couples normally do — stayed at each other’s houses, went on dates, met friends and family. He even picked me up from the airport. With flowers. Romantic, right?

But in the end, he didn’t want to put a label on our relationship. And even though I was heartbroken, crying over something that never officially existed, I wasn’t about to stay in a not-relationship with someone who said he “needed time to figure things out” while never really considering my feelings.

So, a break-up and a trip to Colombia it was.

In Cartagena, inside the Walled City, you can’t walk more than a few steps without someone offering you something like tours, boat trips to the Rosario Islands, or transfers to Playa Blanca. That’s how we heard about something I didn’t even know was possible.

Did you know that near Cartagena, you can take a boat out at night, away from the city lights, and swim in water that glows?

I didn’t.

Me, in Playa Tranquila, January 2025

From Cartagena, we took a rocky taxi ride to the Barú Peninsula. We arrived at Playa Blanca, known for its white-sand beaches and turquoise water, and spent the afternoon at a beach club. At sunset, the guide told us to wait because later, once it was dark enough, we would take a small boat out into the open water and away from the buildings and infrastructure to see the glowing water.

Bioluminescent plankton are microscopic marine organisms that produce light when disturbed. When the water moves (when you swim or splash), they emit a bright blue glow, like tiny stars in the sea.

Barú isn’t especially famous for it, and the glow isn’t overwhelming. It’s subtle. But it was enough to make my heart melt.

When I slipped into the water and moved my hands through the dark, it shimmered. I felt like a little kid again, splashing water around and kicking my feet to make the “stars” shine.

And God, I was so happy.

I didn’t know that night was coming. I didn’t know I would get to cross that off my list, one of those dreams I had saved for “someday.”

I keep a list of things I want to do before I die. See Machu Picchu in Peru. Visit the Pyramids in Egypt. Hang glide in Rio (done). Bungee jump (done). And many others.

I didn’t expect bioluminescent plankton to happen on a random night in Colombia, especially not during a trip I had booked while trying to stitch my heart back together.

Now, I don’t consider myself overly religious. I grew up in the Catholic Church, but beyond Sunday Mass, I’m not deeply involved. Still, floating there in the dark water, watching it light up around me, I couldn’t help but wonder if it meant something. If that was one of the signs I was asking for.

And maybe that’s why it felt bigger than it was.

How could it be that at the exact moment I felt unwanted, I was given something I had always wanted?

That’s the thing about travel for me.

My favorite trips and activities are the ones that remind me of how beautiful the world is. I love watching everything in it, from the organisms to the landscapes, and the tiny details, all interacting in ways that feel bigger than me. In those moments, I’m reminded of how small my problems are, how vast the world is, and how much I still have to see, do, and explore, and how many dreams are still waiting for me.

Maybe the plankton wasn’t a sign that everything would work out.

Maybe it wasn’t about signs at all.

Maybe it was the first moment I realized that losing him didn’t mean losing momentum.

I was still traveling. Still dreaming. Still crossing things off my bucket list.

Just without him.

About a year after the trip, my therapist asked me a question that stayed with me: Did I actually like him, or did I like his lifestyle?

He lived a somewhat nomadic, travel-for-months-at-a-time life — something I’ve always admired but never fully allowed myself to do. Did I like him (his personality, his mind, his heart) or did I just like the version of myself I imagined with him?

The truth is, I don’t think we had that much in common.

And here’s a glimpse into the future: I’m now in a relationship with someone I like — love — and who actually loves me back. In about a week, I’ll be crossing off another bucket-list item: I’ll be in Tromsø, chasing the Northern Lights. (This will be my second attempt, after a failed one in Alaska in 2014.)

I’ve never been someone who documents every detail of a trip, unlike my father, who keeps a dated journal listing every restaurant, every tour guide, every bus company.

But this one, I’ll remember.

If you have any recommendations for Tromsø, please let me know. And thank you for reading ✨