Well, I just finished my last nights sleep here in Bogota.
Yesterday was a pretty lazy day, as Ive been partying pretty hard over the last three days of my trip. During the day, I bummed around the hostel and organized my things for the flight home, and last night I had dinner with Santiago and his sister, Andrea.
Over the last week, Ive been brainstorming ways to tie this monstrosity of a blog all together. Theres so much I could say, theres so much Id like to say, and it just seems like a daunting task to attack.
That being said, I decided that the only logical solution is to procrastinate.
My flight home leaves in just over three hours, and Im gonna save the final post for when I touch down in the States.
Id just like to thank everyone who has been reading for coming along on this wild ride, and Im really looking forward to seeing you all when I return.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Bogota, D.C.
Yesterday was just all around amazing.
Santiago met me at the hostel bright and early, and after a hearty breakfast we set off on my tour of Bogota. We walked through the Candelaria, which is the area surrounding the center of the city, and then we met up with Luisa and headed over to the national museum where there was a great exhibit commemorating Colombias recently celebrated bicentennial anniversary.
In the afternoon, Santiago had class, and I tagged along. Santiago and his friends are fourth year university students studying industrial design. For me, it was more of a Spanish class than a design class, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
After class, we headed over to the mall, and after the mall we headed back to Santiagos house where I was introduced to his mother and sister--two extremely warm and wonderful people.
Then, last night, we all went out and had a blast.
Santiago met me at the hostel bright and early, and after a hearty breakfast we set off on my tour of Bogota. We walked through the Candelaria, which is the area surrounding the center of the city, and then we met up with Luisa and headed over to the national museum where there was a great exhibit commemorating Colombias recently celebrated bicentennial anniversary.
In the afternoon, Santiago had class, and I tagged along. Santiago and his friends are fourth year university students studying industrial design. For me, it was more of a Spanish class than a design class, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
After class, we headed over to the mall, and after the mall we headed back to Santiagos house where I was introduced to his mother and sister--two extremely warm and wonderful people.
Then, last night, we all went out and had a blast.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Ants, Buses, and Final Destinations
Well, I throughly enjoyed my time in San Gil, and my last day there was quite memorable.
In the morning, I woke up really early and took a short bus ride out to a small colonial town called Barichara, which is known for its small artesan shops, quaint architecture, and the local specialty, Hormigas culonas. (For those of you who are yet to have done your homework, "hormigas culonas" more or less translates to "fat-assed ants.")
It was recommended by the hostel that I check out one restaurant in particular, El Color de Hormiga.
So, in need of a hearty lunch before embarking on a two hour hike, I marched right into the restaurant, set down my bag, looked straight at the waiter, and said:
"Look here. I want two large pieces of filet mignon. I want them wrapped in bacon. I want yuca, rice, and a salad on the side. I want the meat to be smothered in ant sauce. I want an army of fried ants sprinkled on top. And I want it all for around ten dollars."
He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay."
It was surprisingly delicious, and just the fuel I needed for my afternoon hike to a town called Guane.
Guane was an even smaller colonial town, perhaps the size of a bloated pickle jar. It was a friendly little town. Everyone I encountered was more than happy to chat it up with the only Gringo there, and I got the impression that the little trinket I bought from one of the artesan shops was the first item the shop owner had sold in days.
Then, when I arrived back in San Gil, I had every intention of arranging my belongings and packing everything up for an easy exit in the morning.
Yeah right.
One of the great things about jumping from hostel to hostel is that youre always meeting swarms of interesting new people who are loads of fun. The downside, though, (if it can be called a downside) is that when all of these great people realize that youre leaving the next day, they tend to want to sit around till four in the morning drinking beer with you.
Ive had a number of less-than-clean exits from hostels throughout my trip, and my exit from San Gil was up there on my ever-growing list entitled, "Filthy Exits."
I sat around drinking beer with a delightful Irish couple till the wee hours of the night, stumbled out of bed the following morning on minimal sleep, haphazardly threw my shit in a bag, and rushed off to the bus terminal to catch a morning ride to Bogota.
Not surprisingly, the bus ride sucked a fat one.
I was able to cope, though, since it was to be the last monumental bus ride of my journey. And seven hours later--after stopping to pick up passengers at every street corner--we arrived at my final destination:
Bogota, D.C.
Last night, after taking a much needed nap, a Swiss girl from the hostel and I went into the Zona Rosa--the bar, restaurant, and club area of Bogota--polished off a bottle of Aguardiente, and taught the Colombians a thing or two on the dance floor.
This morning, Santiago, Sebastian, and Luisa, three of the students I met in Cartagena, are meeting me at the hostel and taking me on a personal tour of Bogota for the day.
And tonight we gonna party like its 1999.
In the morning, I woke up really early and took a short bus ride out to a small colonial town called Barichara, which is known for its small artesan shops, quaint architecture, and the local specialty, Hormigas culonas. (For those of you who are yet to have done your homework, "hormigas culonas" more or less translates to "fat-assed ants.")
It was recommended by the hostel that I check out one restaurant in particular, El Color de Hormiga.
So, in need of a hearty lunch before embarking on a two hour hike, I marched right into the restaurant, set down my bag, looked straight at the waiter, and said:
"Look here. I want two large pieces of filet mignon. I want them wrapped in bacon. I want yuca, rice, and a salad on the side. I want the meat to be smothered in ant sauce. I want an army of fried ants sprinkled on top. And I want it all for around ten dollars."
He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay."
It was surprisingly delicious, and just the fuel I needed for my afternoon hike to a town called Guane.
Guane was an even smaller colonial town, perhaps the size of a bloated pickle jar. It was a friendly little town. Everyone I encountered was more than happy to chat it up with the only Gringo there, and I got the impression that the little trinket I bought from one of the artesan shops was the first item the shop owner had sold in days.
Then, when I arrived back in San Gil, I had every intention of arranging my belongings and packing everything up for an easy exit in the morning.
Yeah right.
One of the great things about jumping from hostel to hostel is that youre always meeting swarms of interesting new people who are loads of fun. The downside, though, (if it can be called a downside) is that when all of these great people realize that youre leaving the next day, they tend to want to sit around till four in the morning drinking beer with you.
Ive had a number of less-than-clean exits from hostels throughout my trip, and my exit from San Gil was up there on my ever-growing list entitled, "Filthy Exits."
I sat around drinking beer with a delightful Irish couple till the wee hours of the night, stumbled out of bed the following morning on minimal sleep, haphazardly threw my shit in a bag, and rushed off to the bus terminal to catch a morning ride to Bogota.
Not surprisingly, the bus ride sucked a fat one.
I was able to cope, though, since it was to be the last monumental bus ride of my journey. And seven hours later--after stopping to pick up passengers at every street corner--we arrived at my final destination:
Bogota, D.C.
Last night, after taking a much needed nap, a Swiss girl from the hostel and I went into the Zona Rosa--the bar, restaurant, and club area of Bogota--polished off a bottle of Aguardiente, and taught the Colombians a thing or two on the dance floor.
This morning, Santiago, Sebastian, and Luisa, three of the students I met in Cartagena, are meeting me at the hostel and taking me on a personal tour of Bogota for the day.
And tonight we gonna party like its 1999.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
San Gil
It may seem as though in the past week or so, my posts have become fewer and father in between.
Thats because my activites have become fewer and farther in between.
And thats because my budget is now tighter than a pussycats asshole.
Papa Isaacson just voluntarily offered to deposit a little extra fuel in the tank, though, which will most likely be used for two purposes:
1) To buy him a souvenir
2) To pay the exit tax at the airport
San Gil is a gorgeous city, and Im almost glad that I havent partaken in any of the extreme sports, because to do so would mean to miss out how beautiful the area really is.
My first day here, I hitched a ride to Chicamocha canyon with a group of extreme sporters who were going paragliding. Chicamocha is the Colombian version of the Grand Canyon, and its quite a site.
Yesterday, I took a trip out to a series of waterfalls called Pescadarito, where there are a number of natural waterslides and swimming holes. Good cheap fun.
And today, Ill take a trip to a small colonial village for a photo-op and some lunch.
Oh, and I am still yet to indulge in the local specialty, Hormigas Culonas, which I will certainly do this afternoon.
(I think its probably best if you Google "Hormigas Culonas" on your own.)
Originally, I was going to checkout of the hostel here in San Gil this morning, store my bags here during the day, and catch a midnight bus to Bogota to avoid paying for lodging tonight. Now, with the extra fuel from Papa dukes, I think Ill spend the $15,000 pesos ($8.10 USD) for an extra night, and leave in the morning.
Thats because my activites have become fewer and farther in between.
And thats because my budget is now tighter than a pussycats asshole.
Papa Isaacson just voluntarily offered to deposit a little extra fuel in the tank, though, which will most likely be used for two purposes:
1) To buy him a souvenir
2) To pay the exit tax at the airport
San Gil is a gorgeous city, and Im almost glad that I havent partaken in any of the extreme sports, because to do so would mean to miss out how beautiful the area really is.
My first day here, I hitched a ride to Chicamocha canyon with a group of extreme sporters who were going paragliding. Chicamocha is the Colombian version of the Grand Canyon, and its quite a site.
Yesterday, I took a trip out to a series of waterfalls called Pescadarito, where there are a number of natural waterslides and swimming holes. Good cheap fun.
And today, Ill take a trip to a small colonial village for a photo-op and some lunch.
Oh, and I am still yet to indulge in the local specialty, Hormigas Culonas, which I will certainly do this afternoon.
(I think its probably best if you Google "Hormigas Culonas" on your own.)
Originally, I was going to checkout of the hostel here in San Gil this morning, store my bags here during the day, and catch a midnight bus to Bogota to avoid paying for lodging tonight. Now, with the extra fuel from Papa dukes, I think Ill spend the $15,000 pesos ($8.10 USD) for an extra night, and leave in the morning.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
And yet another bus
Well, my stay in Bucaramanga was short lived.
This afternoon, I checked out of the hostel and caught a bus from Bucramanga to a town two hours south called San Gil.
Originally, I had wanted to travel directly from Medellin to San Gil, but there were no direct routes. Bucaramanga was a nice city--with buildings, parks, and the like--but, perhaps a bit burnt out from the previous bus ride, I was all building-ed and park-ed out.
So, I took a day and a half to rejuvenate, watched some Criminal Minds and CSI Miami episodes, and moved on.
This particular bus ride was actually the most pleasant Ive had in Colombia for a number of reasons.
First, the buses in Colombia are usually fridigly cold--as I have certainly learned from experience--and this bus was mildly temperate, which was a nice change.
Second, the bus rides in Colombia are notoriously long, and this one took only two hours and change.
And third, since all of my other bus rides have been at night, everyone has been sleeping for the most part. Since this ride was during the day, I was able to strike up a conversation with the cute Colombian girl sitting next to me.
Since Im not 100% confident with my Spanish, I wasnt initially sure how to go about striking up up a conversation. But eventually I figured it out. I had my Spanish-English dictionary on my lap, and when I noticed her glance over at it, I turned to her and said, "Es mi biblia."
Its my bible.
That got things rolling.
Jenny is a 27-year old social worker, born and raised in Colombia, with dual citizenship in Venezuela--her father is from Venezuela, and her mother is Colombian. (Sadly, Torrenay, I didnt get a chance to ask her if she likes beer.) She was heading to a town three hours south of San Gil for work. Its actually a shame that we werent headed to the same place--or that we dont live in the same hemisphere--because she was smart, cute, and quite enjoyable to talk to.
Ah, well. I guess I found my self a new facebook friend.
My plan is to spend a few days here in San Gil before heading on to Bogota, my final destination. As the adventure sports capital of Colombia, I suppose Ill engage myself in some sort of adventure sport in the next day or so.
(Itll have to be a reasonably priced adventure sport, because the funds are running low.)
This afternoon, I checked out of the hostel and caught a bus from Bucramanga to a town two hours south called San Gil.
Originally, I had wanted to travel directly from Medellin to San Gil, but there were no direct routes. Bucaramanga was a nice city--with buildings, parks, and the like--but, perhaps a bit burnt out from the previous bus ride, I was all building-ed and park-ed out.
So, I took a day and a half to rejuvenate, watched some Criminal Minds and CSI Miami episodes, and moved on.
This particular bus ride was actually the most pleasant Ive had in Colombia for a number of reasons.
First, the buses in Colombia are usually fridigly cold--as I have certainly learned from experience--and this bus was mildly temperate, which was a nice change.
Second, the bus rides in Colombia are notoriously long, and this one took only two hours and change.
And third, since all of my other bus rides have been at night, everyone has been sleeping for the most part. Since this ride was during the day, I was able to strike up a conversation with the cute Colombian girl sitting next to me.
Since Im not 100% confident with my Spanish, I wasnt initially sure how to go about striking up up a conversation. But eventually I figured it out. I had my Spanish-English dictionary on my lap, and when I noticed her glance over at it, I turned to her and said, "Es mi biblia."
Its my bible.
That got things rolling.
Jenny is a 27-year old social worker, born and raised in Colombia, with dual citizenship in Venezuela--her father is from Venezuela, and her mother is Colombian. (Sadly, Torrenay, I didnt get a chance to ask her if she likes beer.) She was heading to a town three hours south of San Gil for work. Its actually a shame that we werent headed to the same place--or that we dont live in the same hemisphere--because she was smart, cute, and quite enjoyable to talk to.
Ah, well. I guess I found my self a new facebook friend.
My plan is to spend a few days here in San Gil before heading on to Bogota, my final destination. As the adventure sports capital of Colombia, I suppose Ill engage myself in some sort of adventure sport in the next day or so.
(Itll have to be a reasonably priced adventure sport, because the funds are running low.)
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Mad rush
So, I´m here in Bucaramanga.
And I´m a bit surprised, too, because my exit from Medellin was a bit loco, to say the least.
Every morning in Medellin, Javier and I would discuss who would take the keys to his apartment depending on our schedules for the day. If all of his obgligations for the day would be over before before mine, then he would take the keys, and vice-versa if I would be the one to finish my day first.
Yesterday, my only obligations were the final two salsa lessons that I had signed up for. The first was from 9:30 - 11:30 in the morning, and the second was from 5:00 - 7:00 in the evening.
So, since Javier had to work until only 4:00 in the afternoon, he took the keys.
The day started off extremely smooth. I attended my morning class, and then I headed over to the local mall for some lunch.
After lunch I decided to catch a movie to pass the time.
This time, though, I was sure to ask the attendant if the dialogue would be fed to me in English in some form or another. And of all the movies being shown, "Agent Salt," with Angelina Jolie, was the only one that was offered in English, with Spanish subtitles.
Sounds great. I´ll have that.
The movie was absolutely ludicrous--with a plot containing more holes than 50-Cent has gunshot wounds--but it was sufficiently entertaning. After the movie, I made a quick stop at the cleaners to pick up a shirt that I had dropped, and I headed back to the dance studio for my evening class.
(I can´t believe I just said, "...and I headed back to the dance studio.")
After my class, the real fun began.
My plan all along was to head back to the apartment after class, collect all of my junk, and make my way over to the bus station.
¨Part One¨ was to head back to the apartment, so when I got out of class just after 7:00 I headed straight for the Metro station. I still had plenty of time, though, because my bus didnt leave until 9:00, and Javier´s apartment was just one stop away.
Well, let me rephrase that.
Javier´s apartment WOULD have been just one stop away had I boarded the train that was going in the proper direction.
It wasn´t until just after the first stop that I realized I was headed the wrong way, which means it was two stops before I switched trains to go back in the proper direction, and I was now three stops from my desired destination.
I´ll be fine. It´s a quarter after seven. Still plenty of time.
Now, I haven´t done enough research to understand the logic behind this next part, but apparently at certain times in the evening, the Metro train only stops at the Ayura station--the station I needed--going in one direction.
And it wasn´t my direction.
So, I stood there helplessly as the train whizzed by my stop, and I was forced to switch trains once again and head back in the other direction.
I arrived at the proper station at about 7:30 and, after nearly a twenty minute walk, I arrived at Javier´s apartment just before eight.
Ring, ring.
No answer.
RING, RING.
Still, no answer.
Fuck.
Javier wasn´t home, I didn´t have the keys, and my bus left in just over an hour from a terminal that was a twenty minute metro ride away.
I jogged over to a pay phone, and it wasn´t until the third pay phone that I found one that would make calls to a cellular phone.
¨Hello?¨
¨Yeah, Javier, this is Brandon.¨
¨Hey, Brandon, what´s up?¨
¨Oh, you know, nothing much. Where are you?¨
¨I already went out for the night. Where are you?¨
¨Oh, just standing here outside the apartment, you know?¨
¨Well, I already went out for the night. I´ll call the landlord to let you in.¨
¨That would be great, Javier.¨
¨No, problem. Oh, and I checked for you today. The bus leaves at nine.¨
¨Much obliged, Javier. Gotta run.¨
So, I got into the apartment just after 8:00 PM. I rushed to gather up my things--which thankfully I had already semi-packed in the AM--and I hightailed it out the door.
The landlord´s (hot) daughter told me if I took a taxi back to the metro terminal, I´d be fine. She said that the ride to the bus station shouldn´t take more than twenty minutes, and that it was just a five minute walk from there.
I grabbed a taxi back to the metro station, purchased a ticket, and hurried down to the ramp to wait for the next train.
And I waited...
And waited...
And waited.
No train.
I was probably only waiting for a total of five minutes. But it was already just before 8:30. If I boarded a train in the next minute, that would place me at my desired metro terminal at approximately 8:50. Then, from there, according to the landlord´s (hot) daughter, it was a five minute walk to the bus station.
Assuming it all went down flawlessly, that would leave me with five minutes once I arrived at the bus station to find the proper window, buy a ticket, and find the proper gate of departure.
The numbers just weren´t adding up in my head.
I knew that even if the metro ride did in fact take twenty minutes, there was no chance in hell that the walk from the terminal to the bus station would take me five minutes.
Five minutes was the quote for someone who knew where they were going.
I knew that I would have to ask for directions at least three times before I understood exactly where the bus station was. Then, once I arrived at the station, I knew that I´d probably have to ask for directions at least three more times to find the proper ticket window, and I´d probably need another three sets of directions to find the right gate.
Stay with me, now:
The bus was scheduled to leave at 9:00 PM. It was now 8:30 PM. A twenty minute metro ride would put me at my desired stop at 8:50 PM. From there--according to you know who--I would have ten minutes to complete a five minute walk, find the proper ticket window, purchase the proper ticket, find the proper gate, and solicit at least nine sets of directions.
No chance in hell.
At the last moment, as I heard the train roaring down the tracks, I made the decision to forfeit the metro ticket I had just purchased, book it back out the street, and take a taxi directly to the bus terminal. (I figured that this decision would cut out at least five minutes of walking and three sets of directions.)
I got into a taxi at 8:35, and the driver told me that we would be there in approximately fifteen minutes.
He made it in fourteen.
That left me eleven minutes to solicit six sets of directions, purchase a ticket, and find the proper gate.
I did it all in two sets of directions, and boarded the bus with three minutes to spare.
(At some point during this whole mad rush, I realized that I had left my freshly laundered button-down shirt at the salsa place. I decided, though, that although it´s one of my favorite shirts, going back for it just wasn´t worth losing a whole day of travel. So I sent the school an e-mail this morning asking them to donate it to a charity of their choice, or to use it as kindling.)
And I´m a bit surprised, too, because my exit from Medellin was a bit loco, to say the least.
Every morning in Medellin, Javier and I would discuss who would take the keys to his apartment depending on our schedules for the day. If all of his obgligations for the day would be over before before mine, then he would take the keys, and vice-versa if I would be the one to finish my day first.
Yesterday, my only obligations were the final two salsa lessons that I had signed up for. The first was from 9:30 - 11:30 in the morning, and the second was from 5:00 - 7:00 in the evening.
So, since Javier had to work until only 4:00 in the afternoon, he took the keys.
The day started off extremely smooth. I attended my morning class, and then I headed over to the local mall for some lunch.
After lunch I decided to catch a movie to pass the time.
This time, though, I was sure to ask the attendant if the dialogue would be fed to me in English in some form or another. And of all the movies being shown, "Agent Salt," with Angelina Jolie, was the only one that was offered in English, with Spanish subtitles.
Sounds great. I´ll have that.
The movie was absolutely ludicrous--with a plot containing more holes than 50-Cent has gunshot wounds--but it was sufficiently entertaning. After the movie, I made a quick stop at the cleaners to pick up a shirt that I had dropped, and I headed back to the dance studio for my evening class.
(I can´t believe I just said, "...and I headed back to the dance studio.")
After my class, the real fun began.
My plan all along was to head back to the apartment after class, collect all of my junk, and make my way over to the bus station.
¨Part One¨ was to head back to the apartment, so when I got out of class just after 7:00 I headed straight for the Metro station. I still had plenty of time, though, because my bus didnt leave until 9:00, and Javier´s apartment was just one stop away.
Well, let me rephrase that.
Javier´s apartment WOULD have been just one stop away had I boarded the train that was going in the proper direction.
It wasn´t until just after the first stop that I realized I was headed the wrong way, which means it was two stops before I switched trains to go back in the proper direction, and I was now three stops from my desired destination.
I´ll be fine. It´s a quarter after seven. Still plenty of time.
Now, I haven´t done enough research to understand the logic behind this next part, but apparently at certain times in the evening, the Metro train only stops at the Ayura station--the station I needed--going in one direction.
And it wasn´t my direction.
So, I stood there helplessly as the train whizzed by my stop, and I was forced to switch trains once again and head back in the other direction.
I arrived at the proper station at about 7:30 and, after nearly a twenty minute walk, I arrived at Javier´s apartment just before eight.
Ring, ring.
No answer.
RING, RING.
Still, no answer.
Fuck.
Javier wasn´t home, I didn´t have the keys, and my bus left in just over an hour from a terminal that was a twenty minute metro ride away.
I jogged over to a pay phone, and it wasn´t until the third pay phone that I found one that would make calls to a cellular phone.
¨Hello?¨
¨Yeah, Javier, this is Brandon.¨
¨Hey, Brandon, what´s up?¨
¨Oh, you know, nothing much. Where are you?¨
¨I already went out for the night. Where are you?¨
¨Oh, just standing here outside the apartment, you know?¨
¨Well, I already went out for the night. I´ll call the landlord to let you in.¨
¨That would be great, Javier.¨
¨No, problem. Oh, and I checked for you today. The bus leaves at nine.¨
¨Much obliged, Javier. Gotta run.¨
So, I got into the apartment just after 8:00 PM. I rushed to gather up my things--which thankfully I had already semi-packed in the AM--and I hightailed it out the door.
The landlord´s (hot) daughter told me if I took a taxi back to the metro terminal, I´d be fine. She said that the ride to the bus station shouldn´t take more than twenty minutes, and that it was just a five minute walk from there.
I grabbed a taxi back to the metro station, purchased a ticket, and hurried down to the ramp to wait for the next train.
And I waited...
And waited...
And waited.
No train.
I was probably only waiting for a total of five minutes. But it was already just before 8:30. If I boarded a train in the next minute, that would place me at my desired metro terminal at approximately 8:50. Then, from there, according to the landlord´s (hot) daughter, it was a five minute walk to the bus station.
Assuming it all went down flawlessly, that would leave me with five minutes once I arrived at the bus station to find the proper window, buy a ticket, and find the proper gate of departure.
The numbers just weren´t adding up in my head.
I knew that even if the metro ride did in fact take twenty minutes, there was no chance in hell that the walk from the terminal to the bus station would take me five minutes.
Five minutes was the quote for someone who knew where they were going.
I knew that I would have to ask for directions at least three times before I understood exactly where the bus station was. Then, once I arrived at the station, I knew that I´d probably have to ask for directions at least three more times to find the proper ticket window, and I´d probably need another three sets of directions to find the right gate.
Stay with me, now:
The bus was scheduled to leave at 9:00 PM. It was now 8:30 PM. A twenty minute metro ride would put me at my desired stop at 8:50 PM. From there--according to you know who--I would have ten minutes to complete a five minute walk, find the proper ticket window, purchase the proper ticket, find the proper gate, and solicit at least nine sets of directions.
No chance in hell.
At the last moment, as I heard the train roaring down the tracks, I made the decision to forfeit the metro ticket I had just purchased, book it back out the street, and take a taxi directly to the bus terminal. (I figured that this decision would cut out at least five minutes of walking and three sets of directions.)
I got into a taxi at 8:35, and the driver told me that we would be there in approximately fifteen minutes.
He made it in fourteen.
That left me eleven minutes to solicit six sets of directions, purchase a ticket, and find the proper gate.
I did it all in two sets of directions, and boarded the bus with three minutes to spare.
(At some point during this whole mad rush, I realized that I had left my freshly laundered button-down shirt at the salsa place. I decided, though, that although it´s one of my favorite shirts, going back for it just wasn´t worth losing a whole day of travel. So I sent the school an e-mail this morning asking them to donate it to a charity of their choice, or to use it as kindling.)
Friday, July 23, 2010
Moving right along
I´m sort of in a time crunch here with this post, but I wanted to get something up today because I´ll be traveling shortly.
My time here in Medellin is coming to an end. Tonight, I have my final salsa lesson from 5:00 - 7:00 PM, and then my plan is to catch an over night bus to the town of Bucaramanga.
I really do have to run.
Catch you all en la manana.
(I know, I know. Weak.)
My time here in Medellin is coming to an end. Tonight, I have my final salsa lesson from 5:00 - 7:00 PM, and then my plan is to catch an over night bus to the town of Bucaramanga.
I really do have to run.
Catch you all en la manana.
(I know, I know. Weak.)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)