Towering palm trees. Cloudless, blue skies. Cloying heat. Our shirt sleeves and pant cuffs were rolled up in preparation for the dramatically different climate, our heavy winter outerwear left behind in the cars at an outdoor car park in frigid Detroit. All 20 of us attending the wedding—including Anthony, the groom—stepped off the plane and on to the sizzling tarmac at Rafael Núñez International Airport in Cartagena.
Luckily, heat rising didn’t seem to apply 20 floors above the ground on our hotel’s rooftop patio. The strong breeze coming off the Caribbean sea was a refreshing respite, making the view that much more enjoyable. Oh, and if anyone wants a greater sense of security when visiting Colombia, you could inadvertently pick a hotel that’s directly across a naval base, like we did…
Years ago, someone once told me and my friend Alfred that we looked like siblings (falling prey to the “they all look the same” mentality), and we’ve been known to call each other “brother” and “sister” ever since.
Alfie is also known for unintentionally spouting off endearing questions and statements, which my friends and I have appropriately dubbed Alfredisms. Alfredisms were out in full force on our five-hour drive to Detroit Metro Airport, where we were catching our flight to Colombia, and it soon became necessary to record them in writing.
Alfred: What’s the difference with Colombians and Hondurans?
Justin: …They’re from Honduras.