YYZ –>BOG VII: Fear and Loathing in Chia

Part I      Part II      Part III      Part IV     Part V     Part VI

Alright, it’s about bloody time I get to this part.  Andres.  Chia.

My Accountant and I have about 72 hours left in Colombia.  As I’ve said waaaaay too many times throughout these aimless stories about being drunk on another continent…Andres (The good one out in Chia, not the shitty one in down town Bogota by the mall…I emphasize this part) is THE thing to do.

My Accountant, my Translator and myself were all sitting around a table at an empanada stand eating…empanadas, obviously.  I wanted a Singapore sling, but you can’t get a good one down here.  We received a call from Mama Correal that The Twingo was ready to take us to Chia.  We immediately left the empanada stand without paying the bill (but we actually paid the bill)

I was beginning to sober up from whatever it was we were doing today, and my Accountant and I weren’t really sure if were in the mood for this whole Andres place.  But we had to.  My Translator got a call from his sister/my stepsister calling us ‘bitcheeeeessssss’ and it was re-enforced that we were going to Chia no matter what.  So, Andres is happening, we have no choice.  So, once again, we all loaded into The Twingo.  I mean, it’s no 1971 Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado, but whatever, I’m not complaining.

From what I remember, It’s was about a 45 minute drive to Chia (with a single…peaje along the way…look at me learning!)

Remember the bat country scene in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, where Raoul and Dr. Gonzo pull over, and Raoul is so twisted he swats at bats that aren’t even there? “…we can’t stop here, this is bat country!..” Well, Chia feels like bat country.

Andres is an enigma…or a mirage, if you want to be an existential weirdo about it.  It just kind of appears in the middle of Chia (Chia, the village itself, also kind of just appears in the middle of nowhere)  Nothing on the internet exists about this place.  Just a few random blog posts from people who got drunk there once.  No website, nothing (I found out later that this was because I’m an idiot who can’t read, and was spelling the name wrong)  It’s a little piece of paradise in the middle of Colombia.  I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t actually exist, and my Translator put something in all the empanadas I’ve been eating just to make me think I was there.

Oh good! They’re open…

Remember that other part in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, where Raoul goes to the Circus Circus on acid, and everyone turns into lizards?  This place is kind of like that, except without the acid, the ether, the lizard-humans and Hunter Thompson.

“…There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than two Canadians in the depths of a cheap Colombian cerveza binge…”

The building itself is a football field sized mash-up of Foufounes Electriqués, The Bovine, Terminal 5, and Sneaky Dees, where everyone just goes fucking bat-shit crazy until 5 am.  That’s the best description I can come up with…and I’m pretty good with similes.  This comparison doesn’t even do half the justice to Andres that’s deserved.  We were nuts to butts with drunk, twisted people from all corners of the planet.  At one point, while I was in the wash room peeing (as I often do) this random girl ran into the men’s room and started puking in the urinal next to me.  She then ran to the sink and puked again.  And once more in the corner on the way out for good measure.  All while maintaining her crown and sash (if you’re a foreigner at Andres, you get a complimentary crown and sash)  The bouncers saw this entire thing and did nothing but ensure that she puked safely in the mens room.  A class act all the way.  She immediately went back onto the dance floor, got herself a fresh drink and carried on.  This MUST be experienced.

Upon entrance, you’re given a complimentary shot of Aguardiente and best wishes from a gypsy (fucking Gypsys…) to have the night of your life…(challenge accepted Andres) Because of this complimentary shot, I’ve already forgotten about the 5000 peso cover charge I just had to pay (just in case you wondering how to win me over)

There were couples making out behind us.  The cerveza’s were in bottles, and they were out of whatever the ingredients are in a Singapore Sling.  I wasn’t happy about any of those things, but I had no other options…

—-

Everyone here makes these sour faces after they take their tiny Colombian sized shot of Aguardiente.  Weirdos.  Me? I secretly pour myself a Canadian sized shot whenever I can.  It tastes like Sambuca, but with less liquorice horse shit.  I’m pretty sure my liver is shrivelled up into a wilty grape, or is black and completely non-functioning at this point.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy!…..not that there’s a damn thing wrong with that.

That same urinal puking girl from a few paragraphs up came back to the wash room and puked in the sink again, then proceeded to wash her mouth out with hand soap (chugged straight from the hand pump) then get back on the dance floor and make out with some dude.  Lucky Guy.  I got several more drinks.  My Step Sister got me a drink that was basically every kind of booze the bar had (2 different types of Tequila, and 2 different types of rum, yum) poured into a skull, and mixed with a cream soda type slush.  It’s tasted exactly like that sounds.  Delicious and boozy.

and here is that drink…I think.  That skull mug currently looks great sitting in my kitchen cabinet.

I never did get that Singapore sling I wanted.  Later on, my Accountant met his dream woman, and fell in loooooooove…

Short. Cute. Nosering, second from the left.  More on that later…

I finally got my crown and sash.

Then it was my turn to pick up a quick part timer to make some extra money.  There were no takers.

All kidding and shenanigans aside, this night was great.  I think.  I’m sure places like these exist anywhere and everywhere in the world, and it’s just me/Canada who’s naive to everything.  Get people to go to a huge compound outside of the city, in the middle of nowhere.  A place where you can safely park your car, get wasted, get your greasy drunk food afterward (No poutine though…I’ll be sure to include that in my comprehensive Yelp review) Then get a safe ride home for around 25000 pesos total.

We lived man…we lived.