Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Macarena Memories

Finally, pictures of my DREAMBOAT Apartment in Macarena. The pictures are taken by John Z, the best person in the world and also the person I lived with for a month in June (also known as: The Best Month of My Life). This apartment used to be famous as a place one of the most well-known gay socialites of Bogota would hold outrageous parties. You can see why.

The first two photos show the views looking down and looking up from the main area. John's bedroom was up the first set of stairs and my temporary abode was up the second set. There are no photographs of my bedroom, which is a shame, because it is the best bedroom I have ever seen. It is huge, which two opposite WALLS of WINDOWS facing: 1. The mountains, including the famous lit up Church, and 2. The lights of the Bogota skyline. It was RIDICULOUS.

Although I don't have any photos (because I'm a raving idiot) there is at least, a photo of John's bedroom - which is also gorgeous, and shows you a glimpse of the Bogota skyline. Amazing.

The glass table in below the hammock was later smashed by me - while swinging like an idiot on the hammock, I knocked over one of those giant candle holders. It was Quite Dramatic. John ran in and could not stop laughing.

The top room (MY room!) was so hot during the day, as it was essentially a glasshouse, so Sam, John and I would lounge around on the bed/ sofa/ armchair, play on the internet, drink wine, open all of the windows and generally talk about how exceptionally priviledged we are. Xo.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

There is a man who calls me Macarena

So, my favourite neighbourhood in Bogota - La Macarena - has been tapped by the NY Times. Now it's only a matter of time...


In my words: this is the neighbourhood I lived over for 3 weeks in the most beautiful apartment of my life with John New York Charming and Samuel Linguistic Genius. La Macarena grabbed my heart from my first visit, alone, scared and lost only two days in to Colombia. I stumbled out of my cab - every building is a different colour, every second one is a cafe, the people are young and hot and experimentally dressed and the food is cheap. There are green grocers markets, pricey brunch cafes which are irresistable when hungover, art galleries, a weird concoction of classic Spanish and modern early 80s architecture, homeless dogs, prostitutes, and beggars who offer to find you a cab for a buck. There is the best Argentinean steak house in Bogota. There is the best sushi in Bogota. There is a bar with 40s jazz played by two old Afro-Caribbean men who wear white pressed trousers, bright white shoes and dazzling smiles. There are almost all of my friends, within streets of each other. There is a corner store which sells my favourite Chilean wine for the cheapest price I've found in Bogota.

Half the taxi drivers in Bogota don't know where it is, there is no hostel and my Bogotano friends say sigh wistfully when I say: "I live in La Macarena".