“Stop being such a crazy bitch…”

…were (very) justified words from Jon as we made our way out of Bogota airport.

After 10 hours on a plane, we are tired, grouchy and a little overwhelmed as we struggle with our back packs through the airport in search of an ATM to get some pesos.

We reluctantly walk up to a money exchange counter and an exhausted Jon forgets every word of Spanish he knows except Hola. He turns to me, wide eyed and says “I can’t think” and proceeds to ask the advisor for the equivalent of about £35 🙈

I suggest that he ask the advisor where the nearest cash point is, but Jon refuses. Confused, I strut off mumbling something like “Get your shit together, I can’t handle this right now”, which in hindsight did not help calm Jon’s already frayed nerves.

I’m now pacing with my heavy back pack, intermittently walking up to Jon at the counter and repeatedly ask him to ask about a cash point, teeth becoming more and more gritted with each attempt. Finally, Jon turns to me and squeals “oh yeah and he’s gonna tell me that and not get any commission…unlikely.”

Frustrated by his overthinking, I go to take his phone out of his pocket so I can google translate ‘where is the nearest ATM’ but he holds his phone tight and shoots me another wide eyed glance.

I back off, suspecting that he is on the verge of a sleep deprived breakdown. He manages to compose himself and finally asks about the ATM, they are just around the corner 🙌🏻

So we come out at arrivals to find four ATM’s…the first two declined our requests… “WE ARE GOING TO HAVE NO MONEY TO LIVE, WE’RE F***ED AND IT’S YOUR FAULT, YOU ARE THE MONEY PERSON” I said as I threw my backpack onto the floor with dramatic abandon. Jon snatches the bank card out of my shaking hands and tries the third…then fourth machine and finally we get our money.

Relieved, I look up at a red faced Jon “You did it, we can do this, let’s go get in a taxi”. He looks down at the ground, clearly traumatised by the situation that my sass had not helped with at all. Realising he really wasn’t impressed with my display, I plead “Let’s make up, I’m sorry, I love you”.

He smiles, kisses me, and we stumble off to the taxi rank, still adjusting to our new centre of gravity caused by the immense weight of our overpacked rucksacks.

We are led to a taxi, a lovely chap puts our backpacks in the boot and wishes us a wonderful trip. Jon generously tips him with what he now realises is the equivalent to £24 (twice the amount of our taxi ride to the hotel) and we are on our way to our first stop… Chapinero.

We can’t believe we are here, it’s surreal, but we made it and we feel so lucky 🙏🏻