AC093.

AC093.

We passed over Bogota an hour earlier. Mind you I had zero clue. I woke up from 2hrs of sleeping pill activity on the runway of Bogota. Stewardess' voice, "Welcome to Columbia."

-sorry, where are we?

-columbia.

It was 2:30am. 30mins on the ground and they announce the crew will retire and we'll be put up in the Sheraton. By 3:30 I'm checked in. Sleep to 8:30 and fuel on two cups of Columbian brew.

Managed to hire a cab and drove up to the Museo del Oro. The building was a refurbished 4 stories of slick stone inner halls. Seemed like a relevant time to check out an entire building dedicated to the most celebrated creations of Latin-American gold. Pretty spectacular Masterpieces.

Was out in 45mins. Circled a few historic blocks of downtown. Coffee, no camera. Met back up with the taxi and we drove an upper road with a view of the sprawl of Bogota. Red roofs faded into the hue of urban smog. Stone buildings from the 1700's lined the narrow cobblestone roads of Candelaria. Seemed like each block hosted the eyes of an elder. The Plaza de Bolivar is a wide open square of prominence with buildings of discipline and disciple on each 4 sides.

The graffiti is fantastic. Detailed murals. Wicked colours. No camera. Less words. Some of the better stuff I've seen on my trip through Chile and Argentina. Less sporadic 5-year old set free with a spray can littering single word tags. Tight canvass space added to the seemingly wide diversity of artists. Good presence through the city. Not cluttering.

I was working backwards from 2pm all day. Well, since i arrived at the Sheraton and again after waking up. Plane was leaving at two, or so we believed. It didn't. It took off at 6pm. I'm not one to utter passive lines of indifference, but there are moments when all you can do is hand over control and accept that certain things are beyond you. Seat belt on, sitting in the full upright position aboard a commercial airplane is one such moment. Your completely captive. You are there until it decides you can get off. Now I really enjoy flying for obvious reasons of travel and destinations. Yet, along with renouncing control comes complete downtime to do just about any activity which incorporates sitting. I find myself in states of excessive ambition (3 books and 8 magazines) or utter exhaustion. Regardless, I'm often asleep before we're off the runway. Must be something in the air. I woke up from my early nap, but the plane hadn't budged.

Once again passenger well being was at the helm of the plane and the same ill-two from the original flight were back aboard and independently not feeling well. A man sporting an oxygen mask was escorted off the plane. A lady followed 20 minutes later. The rest of the plane sat, slept or stirred for hours as they located and removed the recent absentees' luggage.

It had been a cool day. Sure we were delayed, yet I couldn't help to think how much better a layover in Bogota is than a winter storm delay in Chicago while waiting within the airport. I was also reminded about the Louis CK rant on Conen. Quality.

The stop was unexpected, but ultimately welcome. I had wanted to visit Columbia and simply confirmed I will be back. First though, I had to make it home to Canada for Thanksgiving with the entire family in Haliburton, Ontario.

By midnight we arrived in TO, 32hrs after leaving BA. Mike was clearly there. Clearly patient. I can only give thanks. by 4:30am we pulled in to the cottage driveway. Past the Brady Lake sign. Took a leak over the ledge into the forest. Opened the door and was welcomed with its own cedar smell and chime. Made a salami sandwich and went to bed with an extra blanket and all the windows open. Amazing how still and quiet a crisp October weekend by the lake can be, especially compared to the summer frogs and forest sounds. Good to be back home for sure.