Agenda :: Colombiana
Watched Colombiana recently. Got inspired. Wondered: If I were a female assassin fresh off a job—snaking through ventilation systems, treading shark-infested tanks, waylaying underneath homes and mercilessly kicking ass to X-out my target is extremely laborious—where would I go to, you know, decompress? Yes, definately a spa. And after an eighteen hour bus ride—no passports or security checks required—from my hometown of Bogotá, Colombia I arrive in Cartagena de Indias . . .