Night had already fallen in the cold streets of the downtown Bogotá’s Candelaria Quarter. The wind blew, invading the nooks and crannies found in its arbitrary and turbulent path.
The corner Barrio de la Candelaria, Bogotá, Colombia
It found its way into the marrow of the occasional passerby, who fought back with their heavy clothing, bent and crouched into the wind, in a battle that they were gradually loosing.
Entrenched in a high stool at the counter of the bar in a pub known simply as “El Corredor de las Begonias”, I watched the climate’s desolation, together with my family.
Stories In Spanish How to buy Facebook