By Aaron Smith, Contributing Reporter
BOGOTA, COLUMBIA - Doing the sniff test on my cleanest dirty shirt, I wanted to look my best to meet my fiancee, Vivi, at Bogota Airport.
I checked out of the slum-class hostel dormitory and into a private room, bought roses and shaved off ten weeks of beard. I had just finished some adventure travel research that took me from the Andes to the Amazon. Vivi, having no desire to rough it, decided to meet me upon returning to civilization in Bogota.
“Hmmm, remember I can be too much sand for your truck, I hope . . .