We headed down on foot from the walled city and after a very long and sweaty walk (and a calorific stop in a bakery next to an industrial fan), set up camp amongst ten million other Colombians. They also had the great idea of spending Christmas on the beach.
We bought some beers from one of nine hundred people who offered, and sat back to enjoy the view… for about twenty minutes. At which point my brain was melting so I got an air-conditioned taxi back to the hostel, where a bunch of us are now slumped pathetically on the sofas wondering who will find the energy to start cooking first.
it’s fucking hot here.
Even this laptop is sweating.
I think I’m going to make some mulled wine. I’ve bought the ingredients, but to be honest I think I’m going to have to chill it first and turn it into some sort of weird spiced up sangria before anyone will drink it. Jeeeeeesus! (Oh, sorry Jesus, happy birthday!)
Feliz Navidad from Colombia! Be grateful for your log fires, if you have them! Oh, and apparently we have just been invited to a party in some bloke’s cigar shop later…