A Lady in London

Last week my boyfriend and I belatedly celebrated his 30th birthday with a trip to The Fat Duck. For all the non-foodies out there, The Fat Duck is chef Heston Blumenthal’s three Michelin starred restaurant in the idyllic village of Bray, England. This temple to molecular gastronomy is second only to Ferran Adrià’s El Bulli on Restaurantmagazine’s Top 50 Restaurants in the World list.

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The final leg of my Colombian odyssey was Bogota. Reaching an altitude of 2640 meters (8300 ft), the city is the third highest capital city in the world. As such, getting off the plane from Cartagena is quite a shock. After only one hour of traveling, the thin, chilly air in Bogota is a world away from the turgid heat on the coast.

We landed in Bogota and wrapped ourselves in our warmest clothes, then headed off to explore the old town. We strolled by the Capitolio Nacional and the Palacio de Nariño, past the Iglesia de Nuestra Señora del Carmen, and back towards the more modern Biblioteca Luis Angel Arango admiring the mix of old and new in the historic city center.

That evening we met up with some people who would be at our friend’s wedding that weekend. We had a great dinner at Club Colombia, where one of the locals recommended ajiaco, Bogota’s specialty of chicken and potato soup. Delicious.

After dinner we headed to the home of a friend of the bride’s for a surprise serenata, or serenade. A Colombian wedding tradition, the serenata involves surprising the bride-to-be with singing. This serenata included both a guitar duo and a full-fledged mariachi band, and the groom sang a lot of the songs. Aguardiente, the national anise-flavored liquor, flowed freely throughout the evening, giving those not used to the altitude quite a rough morning the following day.

Thankfully my boyfriend and I kept our aguardiente drinking in check, and woke up early the next morning to visit the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquira. Carved out of an old salt mine, the cathedral featured a whole bunch of stations of the cross (I was under the impression that there were only twelve, but apparently you can add more), beautiful carvings, and a reflecting pool.

After the cathedral visit my boyfriend met up with a former coworker from the days when he worked in Bogota. I was left to my own devices at the local mall. After two hours of primary research, I concluded that malls are the most soul-sucking places on earth, no matter where on earth one is. I was glad to get out of there and head to dinner.

Dinner was at Colombia’s most famous restaurant, Andres Carne de Res. There is really no way to do justice to the insanity of this restaurant, other than to say that it is big enough that one can get lost in the quirky labyrinth of its rooms, dance floors, bars, and halls. Its low ceilings and long walls are so packed with kitsch that they make Buck’s of Woodside look like an austere tribute to Modernism. The music was loud, the menu came in a box with a jack-in-the-box handle to wind it, and the dancing started early and went late. The food was mainly steak, and the caipirinhas were strong. It was a good night.

The next day was our friend’s wedding. We boarded a bus at noon that drove us up over the mountains and out of Bogota. The wedding was at a villa on a farm, complete with sheep, donkeys, and mules dressed in festive flowers for the occasion.

The ceremony was short and sweet, and afterwards the guests gathered for drinks and dinner followed by hours of dancing. My boyfriend and I stayed as long as our jet lag permitted, then headed back to Bogota so that we could wake up early for our flight back to London.

The wedding was the perfect way to finish off our trip to Colombia, but we still weren’t ready to be back in London quite yet. Our five hour layover in Miami was useful in that respect, as we spent most of it sipping drinks by a beach bar in an effort to prolong paradise. Then it was back to London and back to work, leaving us with nothing but a desire to return to Colombia at our earliest possible convenience.

After our short stint in Miami, my boyfriend and I traveled to Cartagena last Sunday to enjoy some equatorial sun. One of Colombia’s most beautiful coastal cities, Cartagena had long been on my list of places to visit.

We arrived at our hotel, Casa El Carretero, at midnight. The three-room boutique hotel in Cartagena’s up-and-coming Getsemani district felt just like a private house. Luis, the staff member on duty when we arrived, took us on a tour of the hotel, including the amazing roof deck and pool. Afterwards he informed us that we were the only guests for the week, so in a sense it really was a private casa just for us.

The next two days were spent exploring Cartagena’s old town. We woke up early and Alicia, the staff member on duty in the morning, cooked us traditional breakfasts, complete with delicious meat-and-cheese filled arepas and a cornucopia of fresh tropical fruit. The meals were great sustenance as we set out to explore the old walled city.

We spent our mornings walking through the narrow streets with their brightly colored buildings, climbing up the wall for views of the sea on one side and the city on the other, and visiting the Modern Art Museum, the Gold Museum, and the castle.

By the afternoon the equatorial heat had sapped our energy, so we spent time in the pool on the roof of our hotel and read the books and magazines that had been piling up for months on our to-read lists. It was great to have some time to do nothing but relax.

The evenings were filled with leisurely dinners at La Vitrola and La Cocina de Socorro, followed by drinks at Cafe del Mar, a bar on top of the city wall with great views over the sea.

On the third day in Cartagena we headed out to the Islas del Rosario, a chain of islands off the coast. After an hour’s boat ride, we arrived at the islands, which are a protected national park. I was expecting pristine islets with no trace of human habitation, but was met with a hyper-developed archipelago brimming with resorts and illegal fishermen. Sigh.

At least the snorkeling was good. We saw all kinds of tropical fish, squid and huge crabs. There were schools of bright yellow fish, blackish purple fish, and tiny iridescent fish. There were over 200 different kinds of coral, some of which were sadly dead, but others that were bright orange and soothing mauve. We swam with the fishes for awhile, taking care to appropriately chastise our guide, who kept standing on the coral to teach a young girl how to snorkel. So sad.

That evening we returned to Cartagena and discovered Casa de las Palmas, a little restaurant right by our hotel. It was filled with locals and decorated like an old Havana paladar. We loved it. The food was the best we had in Cartagena, and we were sad we didn’t have any more nights to return to try other dishes.

The next morning we were up early and off to the airport for the final leg of our journey and the wedding that prompted our entire trip: Bogota. Leaving behind the hot weather, the beautiful sea, and the colorful streets of Cartagena, we packed our bags and departed our casa with the hope of someday returning for more.

For as much of the world as I’ve seen in my life, I’m embarrassed to admit that there are some major American cities that I’ve never traveled to. From Nashville to New Orleans, Austin to Anchorage, my experience with U.S. cities is wholly inferior to that of my experience with European ones.

One such city that I had never visited was Miami. It was a shame, too, because my boyfriend used to live in South Beach and knows the area quite well. It was lucky, then, that when we were invited to a friend’s wedding in Bogota we were able to book flights that allowed us a day in Miami en route to Colombia.

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A month ago my company moved into a new office in Noho. Formerly known as Fitzrovia, Noho is a trendy area around Charlotte Street in central London. The area has grown on me quite a bit since I started spending most of my waking life there.

Noho wasn’t totally new to me when we relocated in June. I have two friends who live on Charlotte Street, so I’ve spent a few evenings in the area. But being there during the day is different. I’ve been able to explore the breakfast and coffee scene in the morning, the lunch scene at midday, and dive deeper into the drinks and dinner scene post-work.

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Last Saturday was America’s birthday. Most years on the 4th of July I spend the day in a bathing suit by a lake and a grill. At night fireworks burst overhead as we recall our great war for independence. And while most Americans would have trouble telling you what year that great war started, most of them could eat a few burgers washed down with cheap American beer and sing a somewhat coherent version of the national anthem.

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Two weeks ago my boyfriend and I got an email from a friend of ours inviting us to travel to Jamaica the following week. Not able to take a whole week off work but still wanting to see our friend, we decided to make a long weekend of it.

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I love Paris in the summer. I love the warm weather, the endless daylight, the leafy green gardens and parks, and of course, the soldes. Unfortunately, since I moved to London I’ve had the bad habit of visiting Paris in the dead of winter. And while even wintry Paris has its charms, I couldn’t help but feel like I was missing out on something by not vising the city in the summer.

Then last month my boss suggested I take a trip to Paris for a couple days to meet with clients. He didn’t have to ask twice. I booked my Eurostar ticket to Paris and set about lining up meetings.

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