Colombian jungle
The first day I was in Bogota I saw a big yellow bus speeding by, full of old-aged pensioners dancing Salsa. I knew I was going to like Colombia. They say there’s a jungle plant here called burundanga. If somebody spikes your drink with burundanga you lose all free will. You hand over your wallet, car keys and do what you are told, however absurd the order. I avoided the plant poison but I have been seduced by this place.
I love the forests. I like the beer. The people are incredibly charming. They tend to drink chocolate rather than coffee and they do not smoke cigarettes much. I like Roman Catholicism. I like the women’s fertility goddess figures — achieved, I hear, by the ‘starch bomb’ effect of the maize pancakes they consume for breakfast and the world’s largest silicon breast implant industry.
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