Fiesta en la Calle!!!

So I guess I´m 26. But I had forgotten for most of the morning until someone asked how old I was and I looked at my watch to confirm that it was indeed the 27th of January. Aside from the celebration in Bogota, I was taken out for dinner to a really horrible Mexican restaurant in Villa de Leyva last night. But that doesn´t matter. The party that followed was the important part.
I´m staying in the hostel of a nice Austrian man along with 2 guy musicians from France, an American girl, and a Colombian girl. Yesterday I went on a 7 hour long hike to Laguna Iguaque- it was incredible! Super strenous though, as the path was muddy and slippery as well as steep. The altidude at the top was 3600metres, so of course I could really feel the difference in air quality up there. The weather was fantastic though, sunny and warm but not hot. My shoes were shit however, and I kept slipping. Yes dad, I know you told me so... The view of the country side was amazing, and that flora at that altitude was comprised of plants that I´ve never seen before in my life- really interesting stuff. I was in pain by the time we got back to the hostel and I´m in even more pain today, but it was worth it. It was even worth the nearly $20.00 it cost for the entrance fee- quite outrageous for Colombia!
Back to the party... We decided that the most economical way to celebrate would be to buy beers and rum at a store in the main plaza and drink them on the steps outside in the street. We were joined by some dogs followed by a group of other street-drinkers, one of which brought a guitar, a harmonica, a maraca, and some other instrument. Needless to say that with the French musicians and our new Colombian musician we now had enough to make a band. We spent a couple hours in the street then decided to pack it in.
On the way home, we were enticed by some 80´s rock music in a bar on the other side of plaza and decided to go in and dance like idiots. And have some more beers. Upon returning to the hostal, the Colombian girl Diana decided it was not time for the party to be over, but the trouble was we had no more to drink. So she made us all take shots of hot sauce. This did not go over well with Julian, who decided to swish it around in his mouth like a sip of wine, and his already sunburned face turned 3 shades redder as he downed a couple swigs of olive oil to soothe his throat. The rest of us tired not to pee our pants. As revenge, Julian carried Diana outside where the other French guy, Floran, dumped a bucket of laundry water on her head.
And today we hiked along the farm roads to some ruin sight that turned out to be nothing but some phallic stone figures. I also got to pet a sheep at an old ladies´house along the road who invited us in for sodas and tried to sell us a fossil of an indigenous persons´ jawbone.