A life in Colombia
Before I left England, I should have made myself a t-shirt. It would have read something like this: “Kent, but I lived in Liverpool. “27, yes, it took me a while to save. “It’s supposed to be six months, but I spent four months in Ecuador, so I’ll probably still be here at Christmas…” The […]
MoreWhen I was at university, I read Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s Chronicle of a Death Foretold and thought it was brilliant. Since then, I’ve been meaning to read more of his work (particularly Love In A Time of Cholera and 100 Years of Solitude) but other novels somehow always got in the way. I have felt […]
MoreI was in Santa Marta for a few days before I hiked to the Ciudad Perdida. There I met a skinny, 26-year-old Colombian lad called Diego. He was on a short holiday from his home in Bogotá, where he lives with his brother, Juan. Now, when Diego heard I was planning to skip the Colombian […]
MoreMy legs used to be my best physical feature. I am 6’1 and – my fondness for cake aside – I have the genes of two relatively skinny parents. As a result, I have long legs. They are reasonably shapely and, most importantly, they were always generally unmarked. I mourn this fact. My legs are […]
More“Do you like cocaine?” he asked, politely. I shook my head. “No, I don’t like,” I replied, in my best broken Spanish. “I think stupid.” The cocaine farmer laughed. “Do you like cocaine?” I asked, curiously. He shook his head and gave me a beautiful smile, revealing two rows of startlingly white teeth. “No, I […]
MoreThe music was loud, the street was filled with people and the smell of fried festival food followed your every move. I went to Medellin for the city’s flower festival and, although this was probably an unofficial street party, everyone seemed in the mood to celebrate. The crowd was too thick for six people to […]
MoreMy Spanish is terrible at the best of times. But, of course, it fails me most when I’m trying to talk to an official through a thick pane of glass. I wobbled onto the tip of my toes, peered over the glass panel and asked the immigration officer to repeat his question. He smiled. “How […]
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