“I couldn’t remember a lot of the night. But what the fuck did I got robbed within 24 hours?”

24th of July I left the States behind to continue my adventures in South America, first stop: Colombia. When I told my parents that I was going to Colombia they where not as excited as I was. For them, and most people, the stories of FARC rebels, drugs cartels and crime like: taxis that force you to get as much out of the ATM as possible or just getting put on gun point would come to mind. But then, there are still people living there, so how bad can it be?

Well…

I just arrived in Bogotá and went out that same night. With four fellow hosteliers that I met a few hours before: Two French guys, a guy from the UK, one German dude. We started the evening by chilling & hanging in the hammock, while having a skyline view on the old center of Bogotá (La Candalaria). After some laughs, chats & drinks it was time to get out. There we went to get a taxi… You have to know almost every taxi in Bogotá is a little Atos, acar that only can have max 5 people and that includes the driver. But with in a short time we were able to find a taxi who would take us 5 at once (1 in front, and 4 in the backseat).

Don’t know if this was the amount of Aguardiente that night. 😉

Once we arrived in Chapinero, another part of Bogotá, we went to a night shop and bought a bottle of Aguardiente (Translation: Fire-water), Colombia’s national drink with a alcohol percentage of 29. Tastes kind of the same as Ouzo, Sambuca, etc. and cheap, real cheap! You already can buy a bottle or 1L cardboard pack (yeah they have those) for $25.000 peso. After finishing one bottle we bought bottle number two. After finishing it halfway the German and the UK guy went home. And the two French guys and me would continue the night at a real Colombia place called Armandos.

Armandos is a place with two areas, 1st one with salsa/reggaeton/champeta, and 2th level one with more western music. When we arrived at the second level the real fun started… In no time I was socializing with Colombians that started to buy drinks for me. Shorty after that my head started spinning like crazy… and I was not able to find the French guys (that were apparently just standing next to me). So just after just being there for an hour and a half, I just decided to leave asap. So fast that I literally thought: “I do not know where the wardrobe is… Well fuck it then, I will just buy a new jacket.” I don’t know how I got out side, but once outside I just rolled in a random taxi, showed the address on my phone and there I went, shitfaced drunk, in a taxi, in a city that I just met 12 hours before. Halfway the worst happened, I had to throw up… I rolled down the window and just puked out of the back window while driving. All over my arm… The taxi driver was laughing at me.

Found this picture after another crazy Colombian night (Bogotá, Colombia, 2015)

The next day, I woke up and I couldn’t find my creditcard, passport and my money… I couldn’t remember a lot of the night. But what the fuck did I got robbed within 24 hours? Well after a search of 10 minutes I found them in a plastic bag somewhere behind my bed… the “great” thinks you think of when your drunk. Later that day I heard the story of the two guys that went home. They walked all the way back (a hour walk), one of them had a broken toe (like I said: the “great” thinks you think of when your drunk). While they walked back they bought another bottle of Aguardiente and got in a “fight” with the Colombian police. Both ended up safe and sound back at the hostel.

So I don’t know if we were just lucky or that people & governments like to exaggerate it a bit. I think the last one, and it’s not that bad after all. Or am I crazy.. What do you think?

And sorry mom & dad… It will never happen again 😉

 

Thijs

Loving the weird!

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