“How can you even believe that?” Juan said with an ironic smile. “How could sancocho ever be better than ajiaco?” Alejandra shot back with a playful, almost familiar shout: “Of course it is!” They were walking along Seventh Avenue toward Plaza de Bolívar. With all the noise around them, it was hard to hear each […]
—¿Cómo así que tú crees eso? —dijo Juan, sonriendo con ironía—. ¿Cómo va a ser mejor el sancocho que el ajiaco? Alejandra le respondió con un grito familiar, casi juguetón: —¡Claro que sí! Caminaban por la carrera Séptima rumbo a la Plaza de Bolívar. Con todo el ruido alrededor, era difícil escucharse, pero cada uno […]
You gaze at that jewel. Bogotá throws it at you head-on: the Colegio Mayor de San Bartolomé. You breathe deeply. The air hides away. To your left, the house where Bolívar’s beloved sighed toward the Liberator. You cross. The Teatro Colón smells of art. One more step: Silva’s childhood home. You push your son’s stroller […]
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