The past 72 hours have been a struggle.  First, food poisoning led to me emptying my bowels for 10 hours and subsequently curled in the fetal position an additional 24 hours.  Saddle up for an arduous 4×4 journey followed by a mountain-scaling bus ride.  I arrived at my next airbnb ready for hydration, food and recovery.

According to Lonely Planet, Bucaramanga is: “…a greater metropolitan population of about one million people, Bucaramanga, the capital of Santander, is one of the largest cities in Colombia, surrounded by mountains and packed with uninspiring skyscrapers.”

I’ll admit, the last part of that sentence really had me confused.  Why mention that in your summary?  Why not something, anything else.  Now, I understand why.  That is potentially the nicest statement I could make about Buca.  It’s incredibly congested, the food has been terrible, nothing is walkable and the people have been totally unaccommodating.  In hindsight, it kind of reminds me of Queens.  People seem to have an entitled aura with an ignorant gaze.  If you are from Queens, I apologize.  But, I probably hate you.  Enjoy your lemon ice.

Upon arrival at my airbnb, I soon discovered the unworkability of the town, and the nonexistence of any sort of restaurants.  I ended up ordering a slice of pizza with meat. (type of meat: unknown)  And sitting in the common area of the house listening to smooth 70s love jams and a heaping handful of Gloria Estefan.

As you can see, the house is very nice.  It includes a pottery studio and various works of art by the homeowner.  In addition, there are two friendly feline friends ferrying about here and there.  Personally, I prefer ‘perros’ to ‘gatos’ and I have a bit of an allergy to cats, so I was determined to keep my distance.  In addition, I did inform the host, that I am allergic and inquired to where I could buy allergy medicine for the beasts.  (Foreshadowing)

Oooh, I have to go to the bathroom.  My bowels are still functioning.  “No toilet paper in the bowl.” I hear as I jog upstairs.  No problem, I could use a shower anyway, I’ll just wash everything nice and clean.  I am in the shower for 30 seconds and the sound of a gunshot is followed by water spraying in all directions with absolute minimal pressure.  I am now, grasping for handfuls of water to attempt to splash my dirty asshole while simultaneously cringing from the frigid water.  Not to be deterred, I got the job done.  Very refreshing.

Time for bed.  I can’t sleep, because the bed feels like it is cut from solid rock.  Which, normally would not be problem, except I’m incredibly sore from sleeping curled in a ball for 24 hours and sitting on a bus for 10.  So, I can’t sleep.  I’ll just take some melatonin (a sleep aid) Still can’t sleep.  I’ll take another.  Nope, now I’m watching a Batman cartoon from 1993 and questioning my whole existence.  There is some sort of bird that sounds like a cross between a fire whistle and the mom from “Throw Momma From the Train”

I hope you enjoyed that clip.  I certainly did.  OK, my eyes are finally closing.  And scratching begins at the door.  The cat is trying to get in.  Relentless scratching.  Headphones, Netflix off.  Mmm, finally falling asleep.  Oh no, a ball of fur is on my face.  And the door is open.  I spent the next two hours tentatively sleeping and having an allergy attack, until the sun came up properly, at which point I was meowed to death.

OK, I’ve only eaten a slice of pizza in the past 36 hours and no caffeine, I’ll venture out.  I packed my day bag on a quest for food.  Again, stumped by a failure to find a restaurant.  I need carbs.  I find a place (90 minutes later) and ask for a menu.  To which, the server returns and looks at me expectantly.  OK terrific.  I’ll have what you recommend.  Apparently, scrambled eggs with cut up hot dogs are the house specialty.  And, the waitress took away my coffee when it was half full.  (Notice my quiet optimism, even in the face of all this) 

However, even the little bit of coffee had me renewed.  And, Courtney, thank my stars and garters for her, helped me to get back on track.  She reminded me of a crucial element.  How could I forget?  I am a man of Leisure, and I happen to enjoy Luxury.  And so, I grabbed my bag and checked into the finest hotel in Buca.  At which point, I ordered room service, took a shower and scheduled a lengthy massage.  I’ve since been relaxing naked, surrounded by a bed of oversized pillows and enjoying the crooning of Bon Iver.  My stress fading away, gone.

And here I am, with uninspiring skyscrapers behind me, sipping a post massage smoothie.

Scathing blogs aside, my host was lovely.  The house was nice.  The slate bed was 1 of 2.  The other, was much softer.  The cats were incredibly cute and friendly.  Alas, the greatest mystery is left unresolved.  How did the bedroom door open.  You see, she informed me the cats may sneak in through the window.  But, why were they scratching at the door.  And why was the door ajar.  I decided to do a load test of the bedroom door, applying 50 ft-lbs of torque, more than adequate for a 13 lb cat.  And the door didn’t open.  The logical answer is that the scratching awoke my host from sleep resulting in her waking up and opening the door for the cat to enter.  This is the greatest offense, knowing of my allergy.  The coup de gras, saying the cat went in the window.

I am ready for the next leg of my trip.  Which leads me to Refugio La Roca, a hostel set in the mountains with climbing and paragliding and yoga.  And, in other news.  I’ve officially acquired my Pearl Jam ticket for Bogata on November 25th!

Adios!