A tremendous percussion pounds overhead as the once pacific clouds now rain down upon the corrugated rooftops, splatter and run down the haphazard sidewalks and busy streets of Friday night. While clothes may be dampened, spirits are not, and it is nice to have finally arrived.
The city is a mystery - a mix of excitement and trepidation, a flood of sounds and smells but without the benefit of sight. Every corner hides another unknown entity, another piece of history, another threat, another peal of joyful laughter, another song. Yet there is nothing that needs to be found in the midst of everything as one wonders without reference, unteathered to desire or preconceptions, pleasantly surprised in the falling rain.
El Barrio Granada tumbles out of the hills of Juanambu, following Cl 9 down towards Versailles and the Cali River. It is a hodgepodge of hotels, bars, restaurants, fashion designers and studios, the likes of which are housed in everything from colonial relics to modern high rises and art deco facades, structures with eclectic pounding beats which merge with a haze of cigarette and wafts of marijuana smoke. They are precariously pitched over the winding sidewalks, which bobs and weaves, surfaces and then disappears without warning, making its way around power lines, patios and driveways, despite the fact that the street itself is straight.
There are all sorts here, couples sipping wine intimately over candle lit sushi, professionals unwinding after a conference and hipster types lounging outside tiendas with cervecas and chilled bottles of the new Aguardiente, sin azucar.
The city is a mystery - a mix of excitement and trepidation, a flood of sounds and smells but without the benefit of sight. Every corner hides another unknown entity, another piece of history, another threat, another peal of joyful laughter, another song. Yet there is nothing that needs to be found in the midst of everything as one wonders without reference, unteathered to desire or preconceptions, pleasantly surprised in the falling rain.
El Barrio Granada tumbles out of the hills of Juanambu, following Cl 9 down towards Versailles and the Cali River. It is a hodgepodge of hotels, bars, restaurants, fashion designers and studios, the likes of which are housed in everything from colonial relics to modern high rises and art deco facades, structures with eclectic pounding beats which merge with a haze of cigarette and wafts of marijuana smoke. They are precariously pitched over the winding sidewalks, which bobs and weaves, surfaces and then disappears without warning, making its way around power lines, patios and driveways, despite the fact that the street itself is straight.
There are all sorts here, couples sipping wine intimately over candle lit sushi, professionals unwinding after a conference and hipster types lounging outside tiendas with cervecas and chilled bottles of the new Aguardiente, sin azucar.
