Greetings from Bogotá.

Yet again there has been a sizeable gap between updates, so I hope you have enjoyed your respite from my attempts at aggravated asinine alliteration. We certainly enjoyed the gap, as we have been entertaining some eagerly anticipated visitors and we were not disappointed.

As foretold in my last Letter, much-treasured friend Jack, from Walcha in Australia, returned to visit after a gap of 8 years, accompanied by three beautiful veterinarians; his daughter Tallulah, and her friends, Lani and Bianca.

The girls had just completed the Inca Trail, and the Bolivian Death Road, and all those other ‘must do’s’ for Australian backpackers (ABPs) but unlike most other ABPs they also spent time working in a Spider Monkey sanctuary in Bolivia, which I think they found more satisfying than coping with the crowds at Machu Picchu. They loved the trek to get there, but the sheer number of tourists robbed the magnificent Inca site of its magic. Their experience evoked memories of our recent visit to Siena. I was pleased to see they didn’t have one selfie-stick between the three of them.

They were the first to stay in our newly renovated and expanded apartment at Mykanos, and I think the décor agreed with them. All the walls feature murals and drawings and designs of Adriano’s and the view, through the glass doors and from the new terrace, is across to the neighbouring guadua (bamboo), coffee and mountains.

In the short time they were with us we had: breakfast at Lina’s in Anserma (our standing in town went right up hosting three beautiful, sophisticated young women); sundowners in Guatica; a visit to the wax palms in the Valle de Cocora; beers and coffee in Salento; a gargantuan Colombian supper at El Roble in Quindio; and some coffee picking (a 10 minute photo opportunity) at Rancho Grande. When they left us, each took a pack of the world’s most exclusive coffee … Zamudio Estate Coffee, in the form of freshly roasted beans. Why so exclusive? Because, as a single estate coffee, with all the terroir-related aspects that that entails, it is only available if we give you a pack. And we only do that with people we like.

It was easy to like our three vets. They had been deprived of their regular animals so Zsa Zsa and Checho and the pussies all received more than the usual amount of attention. After observing Torsalino for a few days, Lani thinks that his lack of directional stability might well be the result of cerebellar hypoplasia … a problem with the development of his cerebellum, in which case he is the full quid, but just not very good at walking in a straight line or being able to balance normally. He can still pose for a great photo however, and catch the odd bird and mouse and rat, so his quality of life is certainly not being hampered.

With a load factor greater than could be accommodated in the taxi, we spent quite a bit of time in the jeep going hither and thither. They took it in turns joining Adriano on the back grille as ‘parilleros’ (literarily ‘grille hangers’) taking in the mountain and valley panoramas unhindered by struts and side flaps. Travelling around the coffee region in a 40-year-old jeep, albeit golden, struck a more authoritative note than a normal car or minivan and contributed to the authenticity of the experience even if it did not contribute much in terms of comfort.

I would like to think Jack enjoyed the jeep as well, as he is very motoring minded. Not only does he get great joy from personal transport technology, he is also one of the foremost authorities on Alvis and Lagonda, an expertise he inherited from working alongside his father, the late E J Whitehead, a world renowned collector and restorer of fine classic cars.

When Jack was last with us at Rancho Grande in 2007 we didn’t have many chairs. In fact, we had four hammocks and a couple of stools. This trip, as a result of his ever ticking mind and a surfeit of downtime, he decided to count our chairs, resulting in a seat count of 45, and that was not separating sofas into individual cushions, and ignoring chaises lounges etc. It seemed sufficient for two people, he opined.

After they had all departed, the girls to Medellin driven by Jhon Fredy, and Jack to Bogotá, Miami, LA and Brisbane, courtesy of Avianca, American Airlines and QANTAS, we had to do the two hour trip to the town of Supia for the funeral of Adriano’s maternal grandmother. She had lived to the age of 96.

Doña Isabel, as I had known her for a quarter century, eloped on a bicycle with her boyfriend when she was 16. Her father tracked them down and the boyfriend was thrown into prison and was only allowed out when he agreed to marry Isabel. He was Adriano’s grandfather. Perhaps inevitably, however, the marriage did not last and Isabel went on to lead a life, and be involved in situations, that I will write about eventually but will have to frame as fiction because nobody will believe it could have really happened. That’s Colombia for you.

In my week here in Bogota by myself I have been catching up on television. It sounds mundane, I know, but when we are together the only television we see is when we go to bed, as until then we are apertitif-ing, cooking, eating and, of course, talking. When here, in the Big Smoke, I like BBC Entertainment in HD, and the two programmes I have seen a lot of, as November featured them heavily, were Top Gear and the Graham Norton show.

I always knew of Top Gear but had rarely seen it. I remember years ago, when working with Ford of Europe, commenting that, once upon a time Top Gear was a motoring programme but it had seemed to become something else. “Yes,” they said, “ it has become entertainment and has never been so popular. Basically, too few people are really interested in cars and watching car programmes is a minority pastime”. Well this last week I learnt a lot of what goes into it and became quite enamoured of Top Gear and all its silliness.

You already know, from previous mentions in these Letters, that I also like the Graham Norton show. One of many viewed over the past week featured Matt Damon as one of the guests. He was asked how it felt winning an Academy Award, with Ben Affleck, for ‘Good Will Hunting’, at the age of 27. Matt Damon said that he couldn’t sleep and he just sat staring at the Oscar thinking that, “I’m glad I didn’t fuck anyone over for this”. Because, as he said, he realised that this … the lifelong ambition of so many people … could never fill the hole that it represented in so many peoples’ lives, and he was glad he didn’t spend his entire life chasing after it, only to find, at 80, when his life was almost over, that it was just an illusion. It was somewhat similar to pop stars finding that fame and fortune reads better than it lives, or a lottery winner discovering that lots of money causes as many problems as it solves.

All obvious to you I know, but I always find it refreshing to hear a different take on a perennial problem.

But I think what I really got from my television viewing was an understanding of what made these programmes so enjoyable.

It wasn’t hearing the inside information about the movie business or anecdotes about the rich and famous, nor witnessing the sheer silliness of trying to race a double decker bus around a race circuit or driving through Alabama with “Man love rules” and “Country music sucks” emblazoned across your sedan, but it was the dynamic between the people involved in the programme.

On Top Gear, it is the long-developed edgy, sarcastic, competitive, cynical but overwhelmingly loving relationship between the three presenters … Jeremy Clarkson, James May and Richard Hammond. And I understand completely why the triumvirate decamped together when Clarkson was sacked (quite correctly) for doing the unpardonable and biffing a production assistant because there was no hot food provided after a shoot. In its most recent manifestation they were Top Gear, and I hope they can continue their entertaining interaction elsewhere.

As an aside, the production assistant involved is now suing Clarkson for assault and for using a racist slur in that he called him a ‘lazy Irish c###’. I think there is a huge profit opportunity here for Aussies to capitalize on all the things that Brits call us.

On the Graham Norton Show it is the atmosphere of informality and bonhomie that he creates, in which his guests, many of the biggest names in the world of entertainment, always with a film, song, book or tour to promote, let down their defences and have an enjoyable evening coaxed along by a host who, maybe disingenuously, doesn’t take himself too seriously but instead gives them a break from the relentless repetitive chore of self and product promotion. As several of them have said, this is unlike any other chat show they have been on, and we can all enjoy the difference.

And I suppose that is what I think I have learnt from Top Gear and Graham Norton. The best fun … the best of life … is experienced when spending time with people you like.

We certainly did that when Jack and girls were here, and I do that all the time when Adriano and I are together … but then I am just lucky.

Gracias a Dios for that.

Love from him and me,

Barry