My father would take us on his boat to Guatapé on Saturday mornings to eat buñuelos (fried balls of cheesy dough) with hot chocolate for breakfast at the shop next to the town’s church on the main plaza. If my memory serves me right, the place was called or had a drawing of Condorito. We’d walk back to the boat through the calle de los recuerdos which is a street where all the houses’ facades are brighly colored with designs and pliths.