By the time we reached Bogota, our trip was winding down and the reality of life after South America was setting in. The beaches of the Caribbean left me feeling warm and glowing and it was with a reluctant sigh that I boarded the 23 hour non semi-cama bus to Bogota. Passing through lush green rolling hills, tiny villages selling fried everything and arriving in cold, rainy Bogota left me feeling a bit alienated. Curled up in an unfamiliar place with memories of Australian friends, white sand beaches and the last camping of our trip, the first night was a little rough. The next day I warmed my bones with some dark coffee and wandered the streets, impressed with the bohemian murals and political messages. The overwhelming vibrancy of the art made me see Bogota with fresh eyes despite the constant drizzle. The art scene, evolving from a tattered and complex political history evoked memories of Berlin. Both places are still evolving, moving forward from the unrest to a brighter, smarter and more beautiful future. Broke, caffeinated, and in love in Bogota. Not a bad way to finish an epic journey through South America.
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