This is part 2 of a 2-part series. You can read the first part here.

In the morning, I awoke to birds chirping, people stirring about on the ground floor of the finca, and the gorgeous mountain and valley views I can’t get enough of.
I walked downstairs, and greeted Rodrigo, his parents, and others.
I was immediately offered sandals, but refused, in a hippyesque “life is better barefoot” moment. The morning slowly unwound with fresh Colombian coffee and casual conversation.

I made another circuit around the property, taking photos from every view and angle I could think of.
Only after returning to my apartment in Medellin, did I realize my head was getting a massive dose of solar radiation as a result.
With the cool temperatures, I often lose myself in the moment and forget that the sun is much stronger in Medellin than Washington, DC due to the city’s proximity to the Equator.
I have a hat for such purposes, but early in the morning I don’t think to wear it because in the USA, it wouldn’t normally be a problem.

For breakfast, the same cop who cooked the burgers the night before took the lead on scrambling eggs, heating up arepas, and mixing hot chocolate.
It’s a winning breakfast combination, and while I still have trouble eating the arepas and eggs with my hands (versus using a fork and knife), it’s become normal for me.
The secret to making arepas taste good is lots of butter and/or cheese.

After breakfast, Rodrigo mentioned he would be heading back to Medellin around noon, though I was welcome to stay at the finca all afternoon and go back with his parents.
I appreciated the offer, but opted to return with him so I could get some work done.
I felt sufficiently rested, and despite Copacabana being so close to Medellin, it really does feel a world apart once you’ve gotten away from the traffic, noise, crowds, and pollution.

Upon visiting Rodrigo’s finca in Copacabana, I couldn’t help but feel lucky to have such a good friend.
He’d helped teach me Spanish in 2009, and while we only met up once in 2010, he was still more than happy to invite me away for a weekend.
In parting, he invited me back any time, as his parents go there almost every weekend, as he does as well.
I haven’t gone back yet, but few weekends go by that I don’t think about visiting a finca in Copacabana, or another pueblo for some peace and quiet.


















