At 2:21pm yesterday I was just about to depart my residence when all of sudden my knees felt a little wobbly. Upon further investigation, it became clear that everything in my apartment was suffering from the same affliction. An earthquake had commenced. What registered as a 6.1 on the Richter scale equated to no less than a 9.5 on the Huseby fear scale. Nevertheless, after a minute or two of oscillating between hiding under the desk, positioning myself beneath a doorway, and exhibiting general panic, it became clear that I would live to see another day.

After narrowly sneaking past the grim reaper (or something like that), I walked down 11 flights of stairs and kissed solid ground. I then proceeded, accompanied by Eli (my favorite Colombian), to commence a six-mile walk to the Tierra Viva thermal baths. Tierra viva means “live earth” and, despite the fact that I thought I had experienced quite about enough of the earth being alive for one day, thermal baths did seem like a good contrast to swaying buildings.

Our walk gradually morphed from cityscape to countryside, and the scenery was nothing short of spectacular.

Colombia gracefully decided to apologize for it’s rambunctious behavior earlier in the day by presenting me with a lovely apology leaf.

I decided against taking a picture at the thermal baths (for fear of appearing like a weirdo), but rest assured that the three natural pools of varying temperature were just what the doctor ordered.