Wake up slightly hung-over, a great night, grab coffee from hostel kitchen and one for Jamie, England says “He’s got you well trained,” fuck you England, shower is warm but I forgot to bring soap so I’m just spreading my ass cheeks apart as far as possible to let running water work its magic on my asshole, all in all good shower and I have the pleasure of fresh underwear and socks, drink coffee cups numbers four, five, and six, begin planning the next leg of our trip, settle on Turmeque next, we decide that we are heading to the coast and will make a run at Punta Gallinas and Ciudad Perdida.
Plan of travel as of today:
Bogota -> Turmeque -> Tunja -> Villa de Leyva -> Bucaramanga -> ValleDupar -> Riohacha -> Uribia -> Cabo de la Vela -> Punta Gallinas -> Riohacha -> Santa Marta -> Ciudida Perdida hike -> Santa Marta -> Cartegeña -> Medellin -> Pereria -> Salento -> Bogota
(All routes of travel subject to influence from the travel gods)
Kick it at the hostel which is super chill (talking with people who are doing the same thing as you at that moment in time), drink coffee, write, talk with people from San Francisco, England, and spend a few minutes talking with Australian guy who owns the hostel, good guy, mellow, happy, think about opening a hostel somewhere (why not?) Health update based on bowel movement: green (why not?), also, fun fact: wiping ass and throwing TP in trash-can is reflexive (way to pay attention to the rules, buddy)
Take money out of bank, buy soap, and eat Ahiaco (top three soup experiences of life… Ramen #1, Avgolemono #2, Ahiaco #3), love Bogota want to spend more time but excited to hit the road, leave Bogotá via bus, intense bus ride, curves and cliffs like a mother fucker, crazy, most people on bus just going home after work (“the work is good, but the commute is a near-death experience”), countryside is gorgeous and hilly and green green green, check out statues and plaza, dinner with beers (meat and beer? Yes, please), sleep in awesome hostel for four dollars.