You'd expect in this country of 82 microclimates of growing coffee, delicious coffee drinks would be available easily.
This is absolutely not the case.
Most coffee is exported, and the coffee that is here is almost all instant, and people are getting their energy fix from Coka Cola.
Since we are here in a decent-sized city, we set out this Sunday morning (whilst everyone else slept off the fiesta hang-overs) with the single goal: find a cappuccino. In the states, this is effortless and would not be considered a major goal of a morning.
But here, finding a coffee is a task about as immense as filing your tax return.
We girded our loins that we might in fact not find any coffee shops, or they might be closed because of the festival, or closed because of Sunday, or closed just because little in this country is supposed to make sense.
So on the way we sated ourselves with a lovely Sunday morning bicycle ride, along sleepy streets. And we found this beautiful street art, and enjoyed posing our bicycles for photos.
The most hopeful option, Juan Valdez (Colombia's Starbucks, as it were) was closed on Sundays. I read their hours on the door, and also learned that no one can buy a coffee between 1pm and 3pm, as this must be a fat 2hour lunch break or siesta.
But, oh, the blessings and jubilations! We found a schmancy establishment in the Rich Turismo part of town, and they had an espresso machine.
This photo shows that I was indeed SHINING with the pleasure of this drink. And also sunscreen. I am positively reflective today for some reason.
We ordered cappucinos ($6,000, which is just under USD$2) and soft-boiled eggs so tender and perfect I didn't even need salt for them. A little croissant came with them, perfectly buttery and tender and I was in Paris. I ate these heaven-sent glories so slowly I was just about hungry for a second breakfast by the time I was done, so I did the egregious and had a cup of hot chocolate too. No gray salty soup today.
Relishing that which is so rare and worked-for!
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