My bus descended into a valley, with fields full of vegetables. We stop at an army check point. The local males, especially, the young ones are searched. Foreigners are left alone. Arriving at the small bus station, I try to roll my bag down the cobblestone streets which do their best to resist. I descend some stairs and find my hotel.
Villa de Leyva boasts a large, cobble stone square with a small colonial white church on one side and a stone fountain in the middle. Some of its buildings have Moorish arches. I spend time looking at school children across the square, young lovers flirting and people walking their small dogs. The sun sets on this square, turning the sky crimson red above the white washed buildings with their red tiled roofs.
