When I decided to stay in Colombia earlier this year, and start a new blog, Medellin Living, one of the goals I set for myself was to be in a position to attend Colombiamoda, the country's annual fashion week held every July.

I knew it would require a press pass, but I figured there was so little online competition, it was feasible to build my blog's recognition to the point where I'd have a shot.

Obviously I didn't reach my objective since you haven't seen this blog plastered with photos and video of Colombian lingerie models.

Robin, on the other hand, did get behind the scenes at Medellin's 2009 Colombiamoda.  After traveling in the region, he had returned to California earlier in 2009 to start graduate school, only to realize how much he missed Medellin.

As a result, he did the only logical thing - passed on a higher formal education to live in a feared South American city and begin its first English-language nightlife and culture guide, The Arepa.  I contributed a humor piece on riding the city buses for the July issue.

Also featured in the video is Sarah, a trilingual journalism grad who connected with me through Twitter and whom I was suppose to meet up with before leaving.

Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance due to her busy travel schedule, though if ever there was a reason to return, it'd be to hang out with these cool cats (and keep writing for The Arepa).

I awoke at the all too early hour of 5 am with nothing about a long travel day toward home ahead of me.  It was cold enough that I didn't bother with a shower.  I had also packed my headlamp at the bottom of my pack, and without the desire to repack the night before leaving, I had to execute my final hostel room departure in complete darkness.  At least the taxi ride to the airport was faster without the business of rush hour traffic.

Once at the airport, I checked my backpack, leaving me with my two laptops, camera, and a few random items in a cheap bag I bought before leaving Medellin.  I bought a last minute bottle of Medellin Anejo rum so I could enjoy the occasional rum on the rocks or with Sprite as I'd done so often the first half of 2009.  Of course I was raped with a giant mark-up which made me wonder why the hell I didn't just bring a bottle from Medellin.  You'd think I'd have learned to anticipate my own last-minute souvenir-buying tendencies by now, but nope!

The flight to Orlando, Florida was uneventful.  I didn't get a window seat, but I did amuse myself with a funny movie called I Love You Man and some Jon Stewart from The Daily Show.  Maybe there are some benefits to getting back to the USA after all.  But in general, I'm going to try and refrain from watching TV once home.  Aside from Lost, I didn't miss it at all while traveling.

Once we landed in Orlando, I passed through immigrations and customs with ease.  I was officially back in the USA, and it was weird.  I boarded a light rail to the main terminal, and was suddenly surrounded by Americans.

My first impressions made me realize how accustomed I had become to living amongst Colombians for the prior 6 months.  On average, Americans were heavier, paler (yes, I know I'm one of them), and dressed more casually.  Not to say that the Colombian default of jeans and t-shirts is formal, but shorts are fairly uncommon, let alone flip flops.  Not only was I seeing a lot of white people, I was seeing their white legs and feet as well!  It was almost too much for me to handle.  On the plus side, I was also struck by the racial diversity.  Of course I was at an airport for tourists, but even as I write this a few days later, I'm more aware of how truly diverse we are in this country.

My five hour layover turned to six hours as my connecting plane was late, but I simply camped out at a bar table near an outlet, overlooking the tarmac, and prepared a few blog posts on Medellin Living about my final days in Colombia.

And then I was on my last flight for the foreseeable future, heading back to Dulles International Airport in northern Virginia.  I had a window seat this time, and tried to capture a few sunset photos to mark the end of my journey.

The taxi ride to Jose Maria Cordova International Airport outside Medellin was just as stunning as the bus ride which first took me to the city in late January.  Blue skies, warm sun, green mountains.  But instead of feeling the exhilaration and anticipation of arriving somewhere new, I was trying to let go of not just my new friends and experiences in the city, but the entire way in which I'd lived my life for a year and eight months.

Once out of the valley, there was a noticeably cooler air temperature due to the higher elevation.  The airport seemed smaller than I remembered.  The 25-minute Avianca flight to Bogota was over familiar territory as I'd flown the same route twice from the opposite direction.

The Colombian capital city was just as I'd left it - cloudy, grey, and cool.  Actually, as evening arrived, it became downright cold.  The natural scenery and cityscape paled in comparison to my beloved Medellin.  I wasn't crazy - this was my first evidence that all cities are not created equal.

I took a taxi to Musicology Hostel in La Candelaria, passing ghastly prostitutes in doorways and plenty of graffiti along the way.  I had reserved a bed there through Hostelworld.  I wanted to stay at Fatima again, but as with most of the other hostels in the city, it appeared to be full for the night.  Musicology was a recent arrival on the scene, and I enjoyed the courtyards and atmosphere of staying in a 100+ year old home.  I did not enjoy the frigid temperatures.

Jillian and Danny from I Should Log Off, and their British friend, collected me at the hostel around 6:30 pm and we walked down to Simon Bolivar Plaza which looked more attractive in the evening then when I'd first seen it under cloudy skies six months earlier.  They were all couchsurfing in the city as I had done, and seemed to be having a good experience from it.

When asked what I wanted for dinner, I recalled the delicious and regional soup of shredded chicken, potatoes and corn I'd eaten at a nearby restaurant.  Thankfully we happened upon it, and went in to eat.  In addition to having another opportunity to eat such a hearty and rich soup, I enjoyed getting to know Jillian and Danny better.  They had spent the prior four months traveling through Central America, before a quick return to the States.  Visiting Bogota was the first stop on their South American leg of a 'round the world trip.  Since I knew I'd be reading their blog while I tried to assimilate back into life at home, I was especially excited to hear they planned on traveling overland from Ethiopia to South Africa early next year.

After devouring the giant bowl of soup, I was presented with a cup of hot chocolate, some cheese and bread.  The experience of drinking hot chocolate with cheese is well documented on I Should Log Off.  Let's just say, it was a pleasant surprise that the two can go so well together.

Danny suggested a beer after dinner, and I was up for it despite my need to wake up at 5 am the next morning.  I nixed my plan to go salsa dancing as I was having a good time, too full from dinner, and doubted it could compare with my last night of dancing with friends in Medellin.

We continued to chat over beers in a popular bar nearby.  The walls were adorned with Colombian tourism propaganda, except for a small section that was dedicated to the destruction of the World Trade Center on 9/11.  And it wasn't just the images of the burning buildings that was odd, it was that they even had a close-up image of a person falling from one of the towers.

Beers consumed, we parted ways, with Jillian and Danny heading for an overnight bus to San Gil (an adventure sport town) while I faced a short night's sleep and a long day's travel home.

I managed to roll out of bed a few minutes ago, eat some "goodbye" cupcakes a friend left for me last night, and get a good connection from the neighbors' wi-fi.

In about 2 hours, I'll take a taxi up 1,000 meters in elevation as I leave the valley which cradles Medellin, my second home.

In about 5 hours, I'll be on a plane again for the first time in months, on the short 25-minute flight back to Bogota.

In about 8 hours, I hope to be meeting Jillian and Danny from I Should Log Off for a drink.

In about 10 hours, I'd like to be asking Colombian girls to dance at a popular salsa bar.

In 24 hours, I will be on a Jetblue flight bound for Orlando, FL.

In 36 hours, I will be collecting my backpack at Dulles Airport in northern Virginia, and greeting my Dad.

In 48 hours, after 20 months of traveling through 21 countries, I will be waking up in the United States again.

I was awoken way too early, around the hour of 7:30 am, by Max Blanco - slobbering canine friend.  Another smaller dog also made himself at home on my mattress, practically pushing me off of it.  Oh, the joys of living with dogs!

After awhile, I gave up on the idea of reclaiming my bed, and walked outside with my camera to capture the beautiful views while the sun was shining bright.  I can't say enough about how picturesque it felt.  While everyone else was still sleeping off the night's fun, I found my spot in a hammock on the porch.  It was an especially comfortable hammock, and allowed me to curl up and stretch without risk of falling out or feeling uncomfortable.

I used the time to reflect on my recent experiences, and take in the amazing view before me.  Hours passed and I remained perfectly content to spend the morning in this manner.  As the others arose slowly, the girls cooked up a typical lunch of chorizo and arepas (which were eaten with soft cheese and butter).  We finished off the rice from the night before as well.

Lunch consumed, Lina suggested we play a traditional Colombian board game.  The board was in the shape of a poker table, and was made of stitched leather with horses adorning it.  The rules were kind of like backgammon in that the goal was to move your four pieces all the way around the circumference of the board.  Of course if you landed on another person's space, you sent it back to his/her starting point.  Once we got started, this rule would send people's pieces back left and right.  At one point, frustrated by having to continuously start over from square one, I proclaimed in Spanish that the game was impossible!

We played for an hour and a half or so, before giving up on finishing it properly.  The sun was still out, and the air was warm.  Fincas often feature pools, and while Lina had an above ground one, I was too tired to jump in.  Instead, I enjoyed the two dogs who were alternating between playing with each other and resting, the salsa music on the radio, and the hammock with a gorgeous view of the green mountains across the valley.

As 4 pm rolled around, we cleaned, packed up, and motored back to Medellin.

The longer I stay here, the less I want to leave.

On weekends and holidays, the city folk in Medellin like to escape to the countryside.  I'd been hearing about foreigners visiting fincas (country houses) from time to time, and was hoping I'd have the opportunity to experience this aspect of Colombian culture as well before heading home in a few weeks.

I met Andrea through Couchsurfing last week when we went out salsa dancing.  She brought two friends, one of whom was Lina.  A Brazilian couchsurfer named Airton and a Colombian couchsurfer named Cristian also joined us, along with a few others.  We danced, we stayed out late, we had fun together.  I invited them to the party I was throwing at my apartment.  The day after my party, I received my long-awaited finca invitation!

Lina, Andrea, Airton, and Cristian picked me up quite late.  First, I've learned to really appreciate a normal car ride after having to depend on public transportation and walking for so long.  Then, the hunt was on for our dinner.  We drove across town to Las Palmas where we stopped at a 24-hour grocery store.  The girls and Airton picked out much of the food, including a bottle of vodka.  I had brought some leftover rum and wine from my party.

We then drove about 30-40 minutes north out of Medellin, past the terminus of the metro line in Niquia, and into new territory.  The late hour meant little traffic, and we were soon passing the town of Copacabana, after which we reached Lina's finca.  Her mom had recently moved there, but was in Cartagena at the time.  We got out of the car at the foot of a VERY steeply graded driveway, and hiked up it with the groceries.

Atop the hill, we found a cute house with a view across the highway and valley.  It was midnight, and I was already anticipating the morning view.  Cristian took the lead on turning our lumps of charcoal into a red-hot foundation for barbequing a big chunk of meat, chicken drumsticks, corn on the cob, and arepas.  Airton and the girls took the lead on food prep and cooking, while I supervised (j/k).  We opened a bottle of chilled white wine and Airton, being the resident Brazilian, mixed up some caipirinihas too.

Around 2 am, we finally sat down for dinner, and it was a great one at that.  I'm not normally a fan of steaks, but the meat was tender and delicious.  We enjoyed some rice and boiled potatoes as well.  There is a sauce down here which is a combination of mayonnaise and mustard, which is a perfect dip for chips and the little potatoes.

After dinner, I was helping to wash the dishes when Lina suggested I come out and have fun instead.  She took out some musical items - handheld rattles, a metal cylinder which you play by scraping a special metal fork against, and a plastic jug for drumming.  I would venture to guess we made some sweet, sweet music that night.

I was reminded of a salsa combination I learned the prior week called "the sombrero" but I couldn't remember it when I tried to show Andrea.  This was my fear - doing well with the moves in class and then forgetting them once I was on my own!  But having learned them once should make it easier to learn them again in the future.

To be continued...