Spirit shutting down in early May 2026 was one of those travel-news moments that makes you stop mid-scroll, blink twice, and think, well, that escalated quickly. The airline ceased operations on May 2, and the collapse affected roughly 17,000 workers. It was the kind of story that reminds you budget travel is only “cheap” until the business model detonates underneath it.

Now, I wasn’t flying Spirit between Colombia and the U.S. I haven’t flown them in years. My back and my dignity both filed formal complaints. But their collapse did get me thinking about something bigger:

If you live abroad, going back and forth to the U.S. is not “a flight.” It is a travel day.

A whole ecosystem.

A full ritual.

A slightly athletic event involving luggage math, airport strategy, the right apps, the wrong snacks, immigration lines, and one or two moments where the entire experience can either feel beautifully efficient or deeply amateur.

I’ve lived in Bogotá for more than five years, and I make this trip a few times a year. I’ve made enough mistakes to save you some of yours.

So here’s the real version of how to do a Colombia–U.S. travel day properly.

This is the first mistake people make: they shop flights like they’re buying a seat and nothing else.

If you live in Colombia part-time or full-time, that’s not what you’re buying.

You’re buying:

That’s why I tell people to stop looking only at the cheapest economy number and start doing actual math.

Because sometimes business class is not the “luxury” option. Sometimes it’s the rational option dressed better.

If you’re making this run with checked bags, weight matters more than people think. American’s site confirms business-class access policies and benefits vary by ticket and route, but the larger point remains: premium cabins often come with materially better baggage rules than economy, and sometimes that difference is the entire story.

And if you’re searching flights, use tools that show the market instead of just one emotional snapshot of your dates. Google Flights is still excellent for date-grid shopping, and ITA Matrix is still one of the best tools for seeing the broader pricing landscape across a wider window. That part isn’t glamorous, but it saves real money.

This is especially true when you live abroad and tend to travel with things.

Supplements.

Electronics.

Clothes that fit properly.

That one specific brand of deodorant Colombia apparently refuses to acknowledge as necessary to civilization.

If you’re paying for checked bags, overweight bags, better seat selection, and then limping through a long-haul day in standard economy, you may discover that the “cheap” ticket was not actually cheap. It was just incomplete.

That’s the thing about international expat travel: your cost isn’t just what the airline charges. It’s also how much friction the trip creates.

The older I get, the less interested I am in “winning” a flight search by saving $118 and then spending the next 14 hours feeling like I lost a land war.

The checked luggage matters, but the backpack is where you protect the day.

There are four things I think are non-negotiable.

First: a portable battery.

This isn’t just convenience anymore. The FBI has warned travelers about public USB charging risks, including so-called “juice jacking,” and while not every airport port is out to steal your life, this is one of those problems with an easy fix. Bring your own battery and use your own power.

Second: downloaded entertainment.

Do not trust airport Wi-Fi.

Do not trust seatback screens.

Do not trust your optimism.

Download your movies, shows, podcasts, and anything else that makes three hours feel like one and a half.

Third: one clean clothing reset in the backpack.

A shirt.

Underwear.

Socks.

If your checked bag disappears, you are now the smartest person at baggage claim. If it doesn’t disappear, congratulations, you carried emergency socks across continents like a responsible adult.

Fourth: a luggage scale.

This is one of those tiny tools that prevents stupidly expensive problems. There is something deeply annoying about losing an airport argument to gravity.

I’m a fan of redundancy here.

I like a tracker in the bag. Sometimes two. One network fails, another one might still see it. I also like luggage locks in bright colors, partly for security and partly because every black suitcase in the world seems to have made a secret pact to look identical under fluorescent lighting.

None of this feels important until the one trip where it becomes the only reason you know your suitcase is in Miami while you are very much not in Miami.

Update the airline app before you leave for the airport.

Then check it again before the return.

Then refresh it one more time when you feel like you’re being excessive.

You are not being excessive.

Airlines make quiet changes constantly. Gates change. Boarding times slide. Aircraft change. And if your plane doesn’t have seatback entertainment, the app often becomes your entire in-flight media system.

A lot of experienced travelers do this already. The people who don’t are the ones learning about a gate change from a stranger walking the opposite direction at speed.

One of the hidden skills of living in Bogotá is understanding that a 45-minute airport trip can become a 90-minute airport trip simply because the city woke up in a mood.

Traffic to El Dorado is not theoretical. It is real. It is emotional. It is weather-sensitive. It is Friday-sensitive. It is accident-sensitive. And once you accept that, life gets easier.

The goal is not to arrive at the airport exactly on time.

The goal is to arrive early enough that the version of you sitting in a lounge with a coffee feels calm instead of hunted.

If you fly business on participating carriers, lounge access is often included. Airline and credit-card lounge policies shift constantly, but American, Avianca, and other major carriers all maintain current access rules online, and Priority Pass currently lists multiple participating lounges at Bogotá El Dorado.

The reason I care about lounges has nothing to do with pretending I’m more important than I am.

It’s because lounges convert dead airport time into usable human time.

You get:

That changes a travel day.

U.S. Customs and Border Protection currently lists Global Entry at $120 for five years, and it includes TSA PreCheck. That’s the easiest travel math in the world if you move between Colombia and the U.S. more than occasionally.

People love debating whether it’s “worth it.”

Let me help:

If you are doing repeated international travel, yes.

Completely yes.

The free alternative — Mobile Passport Control — is still a useful option and better than the standard line for many travelers, but Global Entry is the cleaner long-game move. CBP still treats it as one of its main trusted-traveler programs for a reason.

It’s not about status. It’s about not wasting sections of your life in lines that don’t need to exist for you anymore.

Coming into the U.S., fresh fruit, fresh meat, and certain agricultural products are still the category that gets people into stupid trouble. The smarter move is simple: declare things if you’re unsure, especially food items. The U.S. side has never been emotionally flexible about agricultural rules, and they have actual systems — including detector dogs — built for exactly this. CBP’s official guidance remains clear that certain agricultural items must be declared and may be prohibited or confiscated.

This is not the moment to test your creativity.

No mango is worth a federal conversation.

By the time you fly back, you feel experienced. That’s when you start skipping the parts that matter.

Refresh the app again before you leave for the airport.

If you have TSA PreCheck through Global Entry, enjoy the fact that domestic airport security in the U.S. becomes significantly less annoying.

Then think ahead to the arrival in Colombia.

Because once you land in Bogotá, the airport strategy changes.

Going to the airport from Bogotá? Uber is usually great.

Coming from the airport? Different story.

The issue isn’t abstract. It’s practical.

Rideshare pickup logistics at El Dorado can be clunky, involve extra walking, and often don’t save enough money to justify the friction. That’s why I tell people to ignore the random guys shouting “taxi” or “Uber” and go straight to the official taxi system or use an app-based licensed taxi option.

American Airlines’ Bogotá airport page remains a useful basic reference point for the airport itself, but the lived reality is simpler: use the official system, not the loudest guy near the curb.

And once you’re in the taxi, make sure the meter is on.

That sentence is not paranoia.

That sentence is Bogotá.

This is one of the most useful boring habits you can build.

Have Colombian pesos already on you.

Not because Colombia is hard.

Because airport arrivals are not the ideal setting to begin a money experiment.

If you need an ATM at El Dorado, fine — but use it correctly. Let your bank do the conversion, not the ATM’s fake-friendly exchange screen. That is one of those small travel mistakes that quietly turns into an unnecessary percentage loss every single time.

And for the love of all things sensible, don’t arrive assuming the taxi will take your U.S. card with a smile and a systems integration miracle.

Bring pesos.

Your landing becomes smoother immediately.

Bogotá sits at around 2,640 meters, or about 8,660 feet above sea level. That’s not a cute fact. That’s a physiological one.

If you’ve spent a week at sea level in Florida or North Carolina or Texas and then come back, you may feel it.

A little headache.

Slightly weird sleep.

A sense that your body has filed a formal complaint with the atmosphere.

For many people, it fades quickly. Hydration helps. Going easy the first day helps. Treating your first evening back like you’re invincible does not help.

If you live in Colombia and go back and forth to the U.S., the trip gets better when you stop treating it like a flight and start treating it like a system.

Run the real luggage math.

Use better search tools.

Put trackers in your bags.

Carry a real backpack setup.

Get Global Entry.

Refresh the app.

Use lounge access when you have it.

Don’t get cute with customs.

Skip the unofficial taxi chaos.

Land with pesos already in your pocket.

That’s how you turn an international travel day from a full-day annoyance into something controlled, repeatable, and much less stupid.

Because when you live abroad, the goal is not just to get there.

The goal is to make the whole machine work for you.