Bogota, Colombia
March 17-22, 2025
Bogotá: One Last Adventure Before the Corporate World
In June 2024, I wrapped up my 12th year of teaching and decided not to renew my contract. It was time for a new chapter. I enrolled in the Applied Instructional Design Academy (AIDA), a nine-month program, bartended nights and weekends to make ends meet, and in March I finally landed my first instructional design job. I was SO STOKED.
I negotiated a start date of March 25—not just to give the bar proper notice, but to squeeze in one last trip before stepping into the corporate world. No more summers off, so I figured: go big. I scoured for cheap flights and stumbled on Bogotá, Colombia. On a whim, I messaged my friend Kristin, thinking there was no way she could make it last minute. But the stars aligned—she had also left teaching, was bartending, and had spring break the exact week I was planning. Within minutes, she was in.
We hadn’t traveled together in over a year, and we’re great travel buddies. This was going to be good.
Night One: Cocktails & a Shrieking Stranger
We stayed in Chapinero, a lively neighborhood, and our first night we wandered down the street and found an incredible cocktail bar with live music. The bartenders were magicians—smoking cocktails, elaborate glassware, layered garnishes. We nibbled small plates, but mostly just caught up on life.
On the walk there, though, we had a bizarre moment: a man ran at us, threw out his arms, shrieked, then vanished. Another woman nearby jumped too, and the three of us just stared, rattled. After that, we agreed—taxis only for nights out.
Street Art, Sour Moonshine, and Pink Parades
The next day we did a walking tour. Bogotá’s alleyways are drenched in murals—entire walls alive with color and politics. We ducked into a local market and tried chicha, a traditional fermented corn drink. Every region does it differently, but in Bogotá it’s sour and strong. Not a fan, but glad I gave it a shot.
We stopped at the stunning Biblioteca Virgilio Barco, with its circular balconies overlooking the city, designed by Colombian architect Rogelio Salmona. From up there, the sprawl of Bogotá felt endless.
We couldn’t enter the main square that day—it was a holiday declared to celebrate the government. Everyone was off work and school, dressed in pink, and parading through with music. Instead, we followed a local tip for lunch, where I had ajiaco bogotano, the chicken-and-potato soup Bogotá is famous for. Three types of potatoes, corn on the cob, shredded chicken, guascas herbs, topped with avocado and capers—it was hearty and unforgettable.
Into the Salt Cathedral
The next day we ventured underground to the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquirá, about an hour outside the city. It’s a Roman Catholic church built inside a working salt mine, with chapels carved directly from halite rock, each representing the Stations of the Cross. The naves, sculptures, and lighting effects made it feel otherworldly—equal parts holy site and art installation.
Afterward, our driver asked if we wanted a local lunch, not tourist food. Yes please. He took us to a cavernous spot with flags from around the world, massive smokers filled with meat skewers, and not a word of English spoken. The waiters used Google Translate, grinning the whole time. My meat plate was over the top but tender and delicious. Kristin went for a coconut smoothie that was as refreshing as it was massive.
Football, Contraband, and Coins in Our Shoes
That night we joined a hostel tour to see a local football match—except the “group” ended up being just us and a guide. Before the game, he brought us to a bar where we played a local game that was like pinball’s rowdy cousin. Kristin and I beat him, then we fueled up with empanadas and beers.
Here’s the thing: alcohol isn’t sold in the stadium. The barras bravas (cheering squads) get too rowdy, so everyone pregames. The local solution? Aguardiente, a clear, licorice-flavored liquor that conveniently comes in juice boxes. Our guide bought some and then casually informed us we’d need to sneak them in… in our pants. He explained that we’d be frisked three times, but if we tucked the boxes into our underwear, we’d be fine.
Kristin took one for the team—pro move—and our guide carried mine since he wasn’t drinking (antibiotics). We also had to hide our coins in our shoes because fans have been known to throw them. Inside, the atmosphere was electric. Everyone knew the chants, the singing rolled through the crowd in waves, and at one point we were crouched behind the people in front of us, sipping our “juice boxes” incognito. We laughed until our sides hurt.
Coffee, Museums, and Cheese in Hot Chocolate
The next day we toured a sustainable, women-owned coffee plantation. We strapped on buckets and picked beans by hand on the steep hillsides, sorting ripe red ones from moldy or budding beans. At the end, we sampled coffee the old-fashioned way. Both Kristin and I are decaf-with-milk drinkers, so the punchy natural coffee wasn’t our jam. But we did learn one fun fact: dark roast actually has less caffeine than lighter roasts. Who knew?
On our last day we explored an art museum and finally visited the square we’d missed earlier in the week. We also tried chocolate santafereño, Bogotá’s quirky tradition of dunking cheese into thick hot chocolate. Let’s just say: not for us.
Closing Out a Chapter
The trip was fabulous. It was vibrant, weird, and wonderful in all the ways travel should be. More than that, it was a perfect bookend: closing my teaching chapter, catching up with Kristin, and stepping into my new life. Bogotá was my last teacher-style “spring break.” Next up: the corporate world.
