Bogota and Me: It’s Complicated
It’s 2.40am. I went to bed at 7.30pm with an unexplained banging headache, so predictably I am now up and wide awake. It’s the witching hour on a Monday morning in Bogota, and the main road next to our living room is spookily quiet. With nothing else to do at this hour but to let my mind wander, I’ve started pondering my relationship. Not my [more]
