Before I get into how I ended up living in Colombia, I first wanted to talk about
how I recently found myself, seemingly out of my control, running up the Torre
Colpatria, Colombia’s tallest tower.
A friend signed me up and paid and so there was no going back. As this is my first
post and none of you know me, you could be forgiven for not understanding the
gravity of the situation. I am not an athlete. Sure, I play football every now and
again, but I also smoke, eat ridiculously unhealthy food and always opt for the bus
over walking. In short, I am terribly unfit.
I had 10 days to prepare for the event. My training consisted of one 15-minute run
and a whole heap of empanadas. Every time I saw the building, which I had hardly
noticed previously, I was hit by a pang of terror. I was going to die in that tower.
For all my cowardice, however, it really wasn’t that bad. I survived. And, what’s
more, I managed to do it in about eight and a half minutes. Don’t get me wrong, I
won’t be doing it again, but it is nice to know that I could if I wanted to.
As for why I’m here, it’s a similar story amongst foreigners in Colombia. The
country grabbed hold of me and wouldn’t let me go. I first came here in 2005 for
two weeks and had been aching to come back ever since. I finally managed to
arrange another two-week trip earlier this year but, as is so often the way in this
country, I couldn’t bring myself to leave at the end of it.
So I set up shop in Bogota, a gritty yet lively and culturally rich city and have been
enjoying the fruits of my decision ever since. Now all I can do is look forward to the
plentiful opportunities that Colombia has to offer over the coming years.