Women in red saris return from morning prayers carrying plates of flowers and tikka powder. I weave past them and dodge rickshaws on the narrow streets. A young man with a bicycle packed with pomegranates makes his way through the crowd, loudly proclaiming he has the best prices. Then the sun hits the golden roof of a temple...
High in the Venezuelan Andes, crammed into the Chama River Valley, there’s a small city with a growing reputation. Home to colonial buildings, shady plazas, leafy parks, and1,000 flavors of ice cream, Mérida has become increasingly popular with travelers looking for a South American experience.
Every day, I walk to work past houses framed with bright bursts of flowers, whose owners unfailingly smile and call out a greeting. I have moved to Chia, Colombia, 45 minutes north of Bogota.