I love losing myself in its lively rhythm—the carefully stacked goods, the vendors calling out their products, people inspecting, touching, and carefully choosing what to buy. And, of course, the food: a feast of flavors that smells like seasoning and tradition.

Comparing this visit to last year's, I'd say it was shorter yet more work-intensive. My days were largely occupied, leaving me only those liminal hours to walk and rediscover the city—either in the quiet of early morning or deep into the night.

According to city records, Santafé de Bogotá was founded in 1538 by Spanish conquistadors atop what was once a Muisca settlement. Its birth took place precisely in La Candelaria—undoubtedly one of the capital's most cherished districts—where Colombia's historical heart still beats today.

A selection of photos from my last trip to Bogotá a few days ago. I took them with my smartphone during my long daily walks through the rainy streets of that city, at times lost between the intertextuality of my thoughts and the appreciation of those who pass by—random paths and crossings unfolding, spontaneous, mostly in the early morning hours and at the end of the day.**

Last week, Caracas and several other cities in the country hosted the International Progressive Theater Festival. With an extensive and diverse program, I had the chance to enjoy three performances with my family—a perfect balance for a Holy Week spent in town.

Being a father in Caracas means my days begin before dawn. My daughters' school schedule sets our rhythm, and while I usually prepare their breakfast and snacks at home, there are mornings when time runs short. That's when I head to a nearby bakery, where bread emerges fresh from the oven in the early hours.