While we went straight to sleep when we got back last night, we didn’t stay that way.  Our room was by far the loudest hotel room we’ve ever stayed in.  This morning, prior to 06:00, we heard several conversations from several rooms, in at least French, Japanese, and Spanish.  We heard at least 4 different phone alarms.  We heard at least 3 hair dryers.  Justin opened the door once, as it seemed there were people in the hallway, but no - the sound was just making its way through everything.  Maybe 15 minutes later Justin opened the door a second time, and this time the room next door had the door open and someone was talking loudly on the phone.  He offered the French gentlemen some choice English words.

We left the room just before 07:00.  La Puerta Falsa - a famous Bogotá restaurant - had just opened, but we were told to come back in 10-15 minutes because they were still setting up some things in the kitchen.  So we walked downhill a block or two to a very quiet Plaza Bolivar.  Then behind us we heard a car flying down the street only to screech to a halt at the sight of two cops at the corner of Plaza Bolivar.  They each did a finger wag to the driver, and he slowly backed up the street he’d just driven (illegally) down.

We did get our breakfast at La Puerta Falsa.  They didn’t have the famous soup we wanted (Ajiaco), as apparently that isn’t ready until lunchtime.  But we shared a giant tamale and a longaniza, plus each of us got a soursop juice.  After wrapping up breakfast we walked around La Candelaria, checking out the street art.  We found a street we’d seen from the Uber the night before, full of umbrellas and street art.  The neighborhood was much quieter than the night before.  We meandered around a bit more, and got back to the hotel just before 09:00, then grabbed our bags and came right back to the lobby.

Downstairs, we met the same guide we’d had our first night (and first morning) in Bogotá, Julio.  He was coming with us to the airport, presumably to help us check us in on our flight to Puerto Inírida.  On the drive we told him about our Saturday night in Bogotá, and he knew all about La Sala de Laura, including its address.  He was in the middle of telling us about another good bar, in Cartagena, when we mentioned we were already familiar with Alquimico and how to get there from our hotel.  He got a chuckle out of that.

It was a nice drive to the airport, as Sunday morning is apparently the one time during the week with no traffic.  The main road into downtown and La Candelaria is closed (so thankfully we were going the opposite direction), and thousands of people were out running and cycling on the closed street.  The sun was out and there was abundant blue sky - it was too bad we were leaving.  At the airport it was basically the same as when we checked in three days prior to go to La Macarena.  But this time our wait time was much more, and we killed time at Zyrope, slowly making our way through one drink each.  We then went through security and got one more beverage.

Our flight to Puerto Inírida was on a nice small jet, an Embraer ERJ-145LR.  We weren’t sure if we’d been on one before, but it seemed very comfortable and spacious for being a regional jet, especially for a route that we don’t imagine has a ton of wealthy business travelers.  On the flight we got a bit of sleep.  Once we landed we unexpectedly had to pay some sort of tourist tax, and there was also a snafu with the luggage receipt, plus it was incredibly hot again, so we weren’t in the best mood when we met Lina and Andrés, our guides for the next few days.

They had us go in a tuk tuk down to the Inírida River, maybe a 5-10 minute ride from the airport.  The boat stalled just after we left the shore, but eventually Andrés got it fixed and we continued on our way a little northwards.  We had lunch at Gastrobar Sarapata, which seemed entirely too crowded for the size of Inírida, but maybe it was because it was Sunday lunch.  In addition to all of the people, there were also tons of birds, chickens, and dogs around.  To our surprise, a fawn Frenchie came in with her family halfway through.  Crystal had a local fish, and Justin had chicharrón.  There was a local hot sauce, aji gua, which was excellent with everything.  [Sadly we cannot find it online.]  We both had Maracuyá juice to drink.  We enjoyed everything, including the really festive atmosphere.

Around 15:30 set off south (upstream), passing by town again near the beginning of the journey.  Lina told us we’d be spending two nights in a small camp near the Mavicure hills.  This comported with our memory, but not the itinerary document we’d read this morning.  A couple times along the way we could see the hills in the distance, but most of the time they were hidden by the tall forest.  We spent about 90 minutes on the river, seeing probably no more than a dozen other vessels along the way.

We arrived just as the sun was going down.  After arriving at the Lodge (we think the name is Cabaña La Guacamaya, but aren’t 100% sure - on Google Maps we think it’s “Zona de Camping Mavicure”) and putting down our things, we went with Lina and a local guide named Oliver to a “lookout” point.  But we were a bit too late and it was rapidly getting dark, with the only light being the massive lightning storm to our east that seemed to be getting closer to us.  We walked back basically in the dark, but without any issues.  We chilled in our room (which was very basic but did have mosquito nets over the beds) for close to an hour, then had dinner at 19:00.  It was slightly less fancy than dinner the night before at La Sala de Laura.  We were really tired and went straight back to the bed after we finished eating, with lights out just after 19:30.