'Would you like some coffee with your cow's blood?'

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

It's widely believed — and probably true — that Colombia's best coffee is exported. The high-income nations that receive the bulk of this are willing — and able — to pay bigger bucks for better quality. They're also seen as more adept at transforming the product in its crude form into a quality brew. Defined in Colombia, refined abroad, so to put it.

Some Colombians are convinced that ordinary coffee consumed in the country is mixed with cattle blood.

Of course, gourmet or at least half-decent coffee is available in Colombia. Not all of what's consumed here is substandard compared to what's available in the likes of Europe and the USA. Nonetheless, much of it is pretty ordinary.

This isn't always the fault of the alleged lesser-quality coffee left behind in Colombia. A lot of the time it's down to how it's prepared. An any-old-way-will-do approach, such as the use of grecas. These metallic monsters are responsible for many crimes against drinkable coffee.

'It's a rather nauseating notion if there is a drop of truth to it.'

Also, like many things, one has to pay a good bit more than average to get a better brew. Thus, I'm regularly left with the I-can't-believe-it's-not-coffee variety. (It's similar in the dating game. Hence, I remain single. If one is reluctant to or simply can't spend big, one is usually left with little better than the dregs.)

Bloody brew

Yet, I've recently discovered that many Colombians think there's more at play in all this than just inferior coffee brewed badly.

There's a belief, which I've been quick to dismiss as an urban legend, that most mass-produced, affordable, working-class ground coffee sold here is mixed with cattle blood. This is done to add more volume to it. It's a rather nauseating notion if there is a drop of truth to it. But it must be an absurdity, mustn't it?

Well, it isn't for almost all the locals with whom I've discussed this in San Martín de los Llanos. And this is cowboy country, so cattle blood is far from alien to the place. What's more, Colombians tend to make use of all parts of an animal that's killed for consumption. Little, if anything, goes to waste. 

On top of this, there are some questionable practices in the country. What you get isn't always what you're told it is. On the other hand, some do hold dubious beliefs, such as the idea that throwing water on your face immediately after exercise will leave your facial features in a stressed state permanently (that might explain a few things for me).

Now, I'm no scientist, but I figure a quick lab test of the alleged cattle-blood coffee should tell us if it has the substance or not. (I say cattle blood as I assume that if the practice is real, it matters little if it's from a cow or a bull. Although cow's blood probably sounds slightly better for marketing purposes: 'Well, if you put cow's milk in your coffee, what's wrong with a little cow's blood?)

So, can those with the means to do so stem the flow of this ruddy rumour and test these cheaper and cheerful coffee brands for traces of bovine blood? Time to bust this myth. Or are we really being fed a load of bull? It wouldn't be the first time we've been told something is other than what it actually is.
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Listen to The Corrigan Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

Colombia's cacophonies: motos, music and wandering salespeople

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

Motorbikes and speakers. Such plagues on Colombia. They've turned what I imagine were once rather tranquil towns into hubs of headache-inducing noise.

Motorbikes: Wanted for crimes against tranquillity in Colombia.

Let's tackle speakers first — something I often wish to do literally, not just figuratively. It appears almost all bricks-and-mortar businesses, as well as private dwellings, have toddler-sized portable versions of these devilish devices, capable of beastly blasts that travel far and wide.

This intensifies in revelling zones, where each establishment competes to be heard above the other. The result is a racket that drives the sane amongst us mad after a brief exposure. Only with copious amounts of beer and/or aguardiente is this torture made more tolerable.

Unpleasant as it is to be within earshot of this music madness — a distance of a good kilometre is needed to escape the worst of it — it isn't incessant. Although it can be unpredictable. And there's always the risk of a noisy neighbour deciding at any time that those all around deserve to bask in his beats.

Moto madness

Added to this mix are the wandering salespeople who use megaphone marketing — usually in the form of a pre-recorded pitch on an endless loop — to advertise their wares to the masses. As nuisances go, though, these guys are mild.

Much less mild is the motorbike menace. In my current abode of San Martín de los Llanos, these motos, as the natives call them, start revving up from 5 am and continue until late at night. Mercifully, it's not constant; there are less active periods throughout the day. Nonetheless, when the motos make their moves, they are heard well before they are seen.

'It emits a hellish roar as if it's trying to escape Earth's gravitational pull.'

Not all motos are created equally, of course. The din from certain quieter ones is just about bearable. Alas, they are in short supply. The terrible-three worst offenders, the most ear-splitting, are the driller, the splutterer, and the rocketeer. That last type emits a hellish roar as if it's trying to escape Earth's gravitational pull, something that would no doubt send the bravest lion scampering for safety.

It must be why mongrels that otherwise are prone to chase tend to keep their distance from these moto monsters. Or the dogs may have simply got used to them by now. Indeed, it's the rarer sight of a human being walking that vexes the canines more so than the motos. That and the passing of another dog. This is the cue for a bout of barking that sends yet more noise into the Colombian air.

A site for sound

Yet, it appears most Colombians aren't too concerned about these cacophonies. They've become indifferent to this chaos, the commotion.

In fact, in my experience, many are more put out by visual pollution — see my previous post, Colombia's clothes-on-the-window bane, for more on that — than pollution of the eardrum-destroying variety.

OK, visual pollution can be, well, unsightly. It is, though, easier to avoid than noise — avert your gaze. What's more, something unsightly is much less likely to cause humans, as well as other animals, physical or mental harm.

The same cannot be said of excessive sound. It can disturb sleep, cause one to lose concentration, increase stress, bring about acoustic trauma, the list goes on. It's also more difficult to escape, unless one is locked away in a soundproof bunker. And that's not exactly a healthier alternative. Earbuds or noise-cancelling headphones, you say? They might provide occasional respite, but constantly using these things isn't good for one's hearing either.

Now, it must be said that there are towns of a more tranquil nature in Colombia. Not all suffer equally from these sound sores. The hotter, lower-lying lands are generally the worst offenders, particularly when it comes to the motorbike menace. One has a better chance of finding a more relaxed setting in the cooler, loftier Andean towns (special shout-out to Somondoco here!).

That aside, in practically all places where humans reside in Colombia, a sizeable speaker pumping out sounds is regularly within range. Tranquillity is but a brief interlude between the noise.
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Listen to The Corrigan Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

'In Car We Thrust'

@wwaycorrigan

The letters-to-the-editor season continues. Below is a screenshot of my latest musings sent to the Irish Independent. It's also available at https://m.independent.ie/opinion/letters/letters-mark-of-a-good-student-is-growth-so-dont-let-exam-stress-stunt-your-progress/a11539009.html.

Walkers of the world, unite!  

The car is King of Transport in Ireland.

The choice is yours

@wwaycorrigan

Below is a copy of a letter I had published in the Irish Independent for Tuesday 06 May 2025.

The topic is addiction and willpower. The letter can also be found at https://m.independent.ie/opinion/letters/letters-we-must-not-forget-the-importance-of-empathy-in-keeping-ireland-healthy/a1826339086.html.

We live and die by our choices.

Cardinals' call: Pope Brendan Martin

@wwaycorrigan

As the conclave of cardinals gathers to elect a new leader of the Catholic Church following Pope Francis' death, it might be time for a fresh face to become the latest successor to St Peter.

That's the theme of my latest letter in the Irish Examiner, available at https://www.irishexaminer.com/opinion/yourview/arid-41619562.html (and as a screenshot, below).

Let's Make the Papacy Great Again. I await the cardinals' call. 

Making the Papacy Great Again.

Colombia and a few of my favourite things

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

I was looking back at previous blog articles — a blogger's version of going through old photos — when I found Introducing "our" Colombia, published in July 2017. In that piece, in an attempt to remind readers there's no "u" in Colombia, each letter from the word Colombia was used to refer to something that represented the country for me.

Now, while many things in that original story still hold, I feel it's time for an update.

Ergo, I present, in Sesame Street style, 'My Colombia 2025'. (Do note, other letters of the alphabet are available to list some of my favourite things in the country, but I have to follow the format here.)

Our Colombian smorgasbord. Tasty and wholesome!

C is for Costeña (and cuajada)

In my earliest days living in Colombia, I was a fan of Costeña lager. While its taste was similar to the more popular Bavaria beers i.e. Aguila and Poker, it stood out from the others thanks to the form in which it came: a 350 ml short-neck, stubby bottle. The rest were in 330 ml long-neck bottles. Costeña was always competitively priced, too.

When Bavaria introduced 750 ml bottles in mid-2012, followed a few years later by litre bottles, the beer company shifted away from Costeña (initially, in some parts of Colombia anyway, 750 ml Costeña bottles had been available but were soon phased out).

The beer eventually disappeared from the tienda fridges. It was only available in 330 ml cans in some supermarkets.

But in late 2023, Costeña came back to liven up the market. OK, the standout stubby 350 ml bottle is no longer available — it's in the standard 330 ml long-neck — but its return in 750 ml bottles is very welcome. It's almost always cheaper than Aguila and Poker, sometimes up to 40 per cent less, and I don't think it's in any way inferior.

Many Colombians seem to agree with me. From my observations, Costeña is growing in popularity in cantinas and tiendas across the country. It is the economy of it, stupid. Why pay more for a similar brew that doesn't really offer anything different?

Another "c" I'm compelled to mention here is cuajada, a fresh cheese made from milk curds.

For most of my time in Colombia, I'd effectively given up on cheese because I felt the quality of most of it was poor while I also found it quite costly, relatively speaking (I was guilty, though, of not shopping around on this one — a rarity for me).

However, while in San José del Guaviare last year, I got into eating cuajada — and continue to do so. As it's practically salt-free and very mild, I find it a refreshing snack, particularly in warmer climes. And at an average of 9,000 COP per pound, it's not badly priced.

O is for oficinas

As a mostly independent operator in these parts (more on that to come), the ability to spend a few hours every day in Colombia's ubiquitous panaderías — cafés-cum-bakeries — is essential for me. They are my offices, oficinas, where I go to read and write whilst sipping on a competitively priced (yes, there's a theme here) tinto (black coffee) and the odd piece of fresh-from-the-oven bread.

'Before, when offered a bowl of soup with hens' feet protruding from it, I'd politely decline whilst silently thinking what sort of savages eat such tripe, or rather entrails and unsightly body parts of fowl to be specific.'

Yes, I could do this in my place of residence. But, as I explained in a previous post, the coffee shop effect is at play. I'm better able to focus in an establishment where people are coming and going and where there's light background noise. Light, that is. Such places do exist in Colombia, at least on occasions.

L is for los Llanos

Los Llanos, Colombia's vast plains and traditional cowboy (and girl) country. More by accident than design — as with most things in my life — over the last few months I've become well acquainted with the mild hustle and bustle of these plains. To be more specific, considering the enormity of the region in question, I've got to know how things roll in the towns of Granada and that of my current abode, San Martín de los Llanos, neighbouring municipalities in the Meta department.

With temperature highs around 30 degrees Celsius, the temptation for an evening ice-cold Costeña beer in one of my preferred cantinas/tiendas is difficult to resist. So, residing here may not be the best for my health. Nor is it good for doing computer work. I've little enthusiasm to turn on my laptop. It's the heat's fault.

Nonetheless, as a man born and reared on a cattle farm, I find the vibe of the place comforting, most of the time. Sure it wouldn't be true cowboy country without the odd drive-by shooting. And I'm warming to the ever-so-pretty tarantulas.

O is for on the road

OK, it would be helpful if there was a "u" in Colombia for the purpose of this exercise. Although, I'm not sure if I even have a favourite "u". Oh wait, of course I do. Former president Uribe. The people's president. Or the paisas president, at least.

'In some ways I feel that the Boyacá department is my spiritual home.'

Sticking to the rules, though, my second "o" is for on the road. This is when I usually feel most relaxed in this land, travelling around it. "B" and "i", below, expand a little more on this.

M is for menudencias soup

A sign, perhaps, of how much I've adapted to life in Colombia. Years ago, when offered a bowl of soup with hens' feet protruding from it, I'd politely decline whilst silently thinking what sort of savages eat such tripe, or rather entrails and unsightly body parts of fowl, to be specific.

Nowadays, I find this pick-and-mix delicacy hearty and wholesome, and, wait for it, competitively priced. It's better than ultra-processed rubbish in any case.

B is for Boyacá and Bogotá's barrios populares

While I'm currently based in los Llanos, in some ways I feel that the Boyacá department is more my spiritual home. One reason for this is that towns in its loftier and thus cooler locations have what I consider a more Irish countryside hue about them. And because of its mountainous terrain, there's more variety to it than the relative sameness of the plains.

For example, the low-lying town of San Luis de Gaceno, in the department's south, has a culture and climate similar to San Martín. Further north and high up in the Andes is the quaint colonial settlement of Güicán, close to one of Colombia's few remaining glaciers. There, goats and sheep are almost as numerous as cattle. Ovines are pretty much non-existent in los Llanos.

What I'll call my Boyacá bromance really got going once life started moving again after the pernicious covid-19 lockdowns. From my base in the far north of Bogotá, within walking distance of the city's northern bus terminal, it was easy for me to escape to the myriad towns further north. And this I happily and regularly did between 2021 and 2023.

As for Bogotá's barrios populares, especially Santandercito in the far north, I feel at home there. Yes, Santandercito and surrounds have their rough edges, yet there's a sense of community that I feel is lacking in other, more affluent neighbourhoods in the capital. Many barrios populares are like small, welcoming towns in a big, impersonal city.

I is for independence

Colombia has allowed me to avoid working a full-time job, save for one uninspiring experience as a copywriter/translator at a marketing agency from December 2018 to January 2020. Thus, I have been able to move around the country pretty much when I want to.

An employer would have to pay me quite an amount of money for me to sacrifice this employment independence, largely economically inactive as I currently am, albeit. As I've said before, I prefer to work with people rather than for people. Or work on my own, when and where possible.

A is for Amazon

Few people in the world haven't heard of the Amazon (no, I don't mean the company, which I've never used). And I'm sure many would love to get the chance to visit it. So, having been on its doorstep for years, it had always been in my plans to go there.

Now while San José del Guaviare, a town I first visited in 2017, is technically in Colombia's Amazon region, it's not in the Amazonas department. And I always felt that I couldn't call time on my days in Colombia without visiting Amazonas.

This, I finally did in 2024. Very loosely following in the footsteps of Roger Casement, I travelled to the indigenous reserve of La Chorrera, which you can read about here. As I say in that piece, I'm in no rush to return to La Chorrera itself. However, it was quite an experience and I wouldn't mind exploring other parts of the Amazon in the months and years to come.

So that's it. My latest spelling out of what C-O-L-O-M-B-I-A means to me. Until the next time.
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Listen to The Corrigan Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

An end to Rip-off Republic of Ireland? One can dream

@wwaycorrigan

Could some good come for Ireland from US president Donald Trump's Liberation Day tariffs?

That's the hope expressed in my latest letter in the Irish Examiner, available at https://www.irishexaminer.com/opinion/yourview/arid-41605645.html.

Letter to the editor: Three-star Ireland charging five-star prices.