Bogotá
So far, the rule with Colombian buses had been to take the prescribed travel time and add an hour or two. Having been informed that the bus to Bogotá takes 7-9 hours, I feel into a deep VIP-seat slumber expecting to get at least a solid 8 hours of sleep. I was in the middle of a dream when Xavier poked me awake at 6am. I still wasn't fully awake, and still wasn't fully sure if we were actually in Bogotá just 7 hours later, when I said au revoir to him and clambered into a taxi.
Finally, a daytime arrival at a new place. My first impressions on the near hour-long journey into the centre were...underwhelming. Lots of traffic, lots of buses, lots of flat sprawl - Bogotá wasn't impressing me so far.
Having been hostel dorming it for a while now, I decided it was time for a break from backpacking. I had booked myself into a four star hotel for the next couple of nights, right in the historic central region, known as Le Candelaria. My extremely early arrival meant that my hotel room was nowhere near ready. After some pleading with the reception, I managed to get the room available at 10am rather than 3pm.
Chilling with a book in a Juan Valdez* and checking out the temporary exhibits at the nearby Museu del Oro were a nice way to kill the time before I was finally able to enjoy my four-star luxury. The cherry on the cake was having cable TV in my room - I watched Manchester United versus Brighton live from the comfort of my big double bed before catching up on some sleep in the late morning.
The Museu del Oro was the main attraction for me in Bogotá, so the afternoon was spent seeing the rest of the place (my day ticket was multi-entry). It was an afternoon well spent - the museum is fantastic, with some breathtaking gold pieces in particular, preserved from the pre-Columbus era.
Feeling a little burnt out from non-stop activities the past few days, I toyed with the idea of collapsing into the amazing double bed early, but in the end decided to push myself a little further and go check out the city from a different perspective
I was glad I did. The walk and short cable car ride up to the peak of Montserrate were worth it - the sunset view, as you can see above, was pretty damn spectacular. I rewarded myself for being such a good tourist by watching Terminator 3 and 4 back to back in my big bed that night (both were shite).
Another hipster cafe with good coffee the next morning, but this time I had a good excuse - Bert-Jan, the Groningen solo traveller I met in Cartagena, was in town. We caught up over a cappuccino and some awful supermarket food (he's on a tight budget), before I left to do a cycling tour of the city. Bert-Jan was going to join too, but he, a Dutchman of all things, chickened out when it started to rain lightly. Pfft.
The bike tour was pretty average, partly because of circumstance. We kicked off with speed-fruit tasting, where our guide brought us to a market stall and attempted to break the world record for most different types of Colombian fruit eaten by tourists in under 60 seconds. After playing tejo (been there) and visiting a coffee factory (done that), we took an interesting bike ride through some of the rougher parts of downtown to see some street art. It was nice, but not as good as Comuna 13 in Medellín (you can probably tell already I prefer the second city).
The rain had fully stopped by the evening, so Bert-Jan was able to come out for a beer. We went to an Irish pub called "The Pub" (his choice), which, as Irish pubs go, wasn't that bad. We wiled away the evening drinking pints of BBC (Bogotá Beer Company - the local craft) and watching Miss Universe with the staff, as you do in Bogotá. The staff were well into it, and by the time Miss Colombia made it to the top three, we were too. She got shafted by a dodgy judge's call, and only took home the bronze. We shared the sense of injustice with the staff, then ordered another pint.
At this stage, another Irishman, from Dublin but working remotely in Colombia, had joined us. The problem we had was that the area the pub was in (which is the main tourist area by day) was not safe to walk through at night. Bert-Jan decided to brave the 15 minute walk home by himself (he was fine). The Irishman and I deferred the problem by having one more round, but we had to face the danger when the bar closed. Five minutes down the dark street, a dodgy looking guy started to hover ominously close to us. We had just reached the Irishman's hostel, so I ended up hanging out with him for a few minutes until the possible danger passed. In the end, I walked the final five minutes home without problems.
This is the main gripe I had with my brief stay in Bogotá - it was hard to feel comfortable there. You know you have a deadline of sundown before La Candelaria changes and you suddendly need to get taxis everywhere. The threat may be exaggerated, but that doesn't stop you being cautious.
On my final day I was happy to get out of the city, to visit the salt cathedral at Zipaquirá. I travelled there with Charline, who was from Tours in France and who I had met in Medellín (and who doesn't speak English - more on that in an upcoming blog post about my progress with Spanish).
I wasn't sure what to expect from a cathedral carved out of salt rock. Even now it's hard to describe - it's like being in a cave, except with crosses carved into stone representing the stations of the cross, and other impressively lit religious carvings. The real showstopper here however is the main chapel, which you can see above. It's enormous. During holy week it's packed to the rafters apparently.
And so leaving Zipaquirá I began my final journey in Colombia, to the airport to catch a later than preferred flight to Quito. Due to ridiculous traffic and a confusing metro bus system (I got on the wrong one), I ended up needing to get two Ubers just to pick up my bag from the hotel and get to the international terminal. By skipping dinner I got there in a reasonable amount of time.
This great difficulty in getting around didn't help with my overall opinion of the capital. I didn't have enough time to see it fully, but from the impression I got Bogotá was my least-favourite place I visited in Colombia, and not a patch on Medellín. I may be doing it an injustice though. I'd be willing to give it a second chance, if only to see the rest of the museums.
When checking in at the airport, I was informed by Avianca's staff member that there was a problem - the flight was overbooked. They were looking for volunteers to switch to the flight the following morning.
"What happens if I volunteer?"
"We put you in a 5-star hotel, with dinner, breakfast, and a $180 Avianca voucher".
"Volunteer please".
I had wanted to fly in the morning anyway, but the flight was double the price. I sat eating my sumptuous 5-star dinner waiting for someone to jump out and tell me this was all a scam. I was a little late for my flight the next morning because I wanted to enjoy the 5-star breakfast.
Thanks for the great send-off Colombia, and thanks for an amazing four weeks (I stayed longer than planned). I'll be seeing you again.
More photos of Bogotá
* Juan Valdez is a coffee chain that's like the Colombian Starbucks, only it's good. It's government owned, and they buy the best coffee beans off most of the small, independent producers.
Finally, a daytime arrival at a new place. My first impressions on the near hour-long journey into the centre were...underwhelming. Lots of traffic, lots of buses, lots of flat sprawl - Bogotá wasn't impressing me so far.
Having been hostel dorming it for a while now, I decided it was time for a break from backpacking. I had booked myself into a four star hotel for the next couple of nights, right in the historic central region, known as Le Candelaria. My extremely early arrival meant that my hotel room was nowhere near ready. After some pleading with the reception, I managed to get the room available at 10am rather than 3pm.
Chilling with a book in a Juan Valdez* and checking out the temporary exhibits at the nearby Museu del Oro were a nice way to kill the time before I was finally able to enjoy my four-star luxury. The cherry on the cake was having cable TV in my room - I watched Manchester United versus Brighton live from the comfort of my big double bed before catching up on some sleep in the late morning.
The Museu del Oro was the main attraction for me in Bogotá, so the afternoon was spent seeing the rest of the place (my day ticket was multi-entry). It was an afternoon well spent - the museum is fantastic, with some breathtaking gold pieces in particular, preserved from the pre-Columbus era.
Feeling a little burnt out from non-stop activities the past few days, I toyed with the idea of collapsing into the amazing double bed early, but in the end decided to push myself a little further and go check out the city from a different perspective
I was glad I did. The walk and short cable car ride up to the peak of Montserrate were worth it - the sunset view, as you can see above, was pretty damn spectacular. I rewarded myself for being such a good tourist by watching Terminator 3 and 4 back to back in my big bed that night (both were shite).
Another hipster cafe with good coffee the next morning, but this time I had a good excuse - Bert-Jan, the Groningen solo traveller I met in Cartagena, was in town. We caught up over a cappuccino and some awful supermarket food (he's on a tight budget), before I left to do a cycling tour of the city. Bert-Jan was going to join too, but he, a Dutchman of all things, chickened out when it started to rain lightly. Pfft.
The bike tour was pretty average, partly because of circumstance. We kicked off with speed-fruit tasting, where our guide brought us to a market stall and attempted to break the world record for most different types of Colombian fruit eaten by tourists in under 60 seconds. After playing tejo (been there) and visiting a coffee factory (done that), we took an interesting bike ride through some of the rougher parts of downtown to see some street art. It was nice, but not as good as Comuna 13 in Medellín (you can probably tell already I prefer the second city).
The rain had fully stopped by the evening, so Bert-Jan was able to come out for a beer. We went to an Irish pub called "The Pub" (his choice), which, as Irish pubs go, wasn't that bad. We wiled away the evening drinking pints of BBC (Bogotá Beer Company - the local craft) and watching Miss Universe with the staff, as you do in Bogotá. The staff were well into it, and by the time Miss Colombia made it to the top three, we were too. She got shafted by a dodgy judge's call, and only took home the bronze. We shared the sense of injustice with the staff, then ordered another pint.
At this stage, another Irishman, from Dublin but working remotely in Colombia, had joined us. The problem we had was that the area the pub was in (which is the main tourist area by day) was not safe to walk through at night. Bert-Jan decided to brave the 15 minute walk home by himself (he was fine). The Irishman and I deferred the problem by having one more round, but we had to face the danger when the bar closed. Five minutes down the dark street, a dodgy looking guy started to hover ominously close to us. We had just reached the Irishman's hostel, so I ended up hanging out with him for a few minutes until the possible danger passed. In the end, I walked the final five minutes home without problems.
This is the main gripe I had with my brief stay in Bogotá - it was hard to feel comfortable there. You know you have a deadline of sundown before La Candelaria changes and you suddendly need to get taxis everywhere. The threat may be exaggerated, but that doesn't stop you being cautious.
On my final day I was happy to get out of the city, to visit the salt cathedral at Zipaquirá. I travelled there with Charline, who was from Tours in France and who I had met in Medellín (and who doesn't speak English - more on that in an upcoming blog post about my progress with Spanish).
I wasn't sure what to expect from a cathedral carved out of salt rock. Even now it's hard to describe - it's like being in a cave, except with crosses carved into stone representing the stations of the cross, and other impressively lit religious carvings. The real showstopper here however is the main chapel, which you can see above. It's enormous. During holy week it's packed to the rafters apparently.
And so leaving Zipaquirá I began my final journey in Colombia, to the airport to catch a later than preferred flight to Quito. Due to ridiculous traffic and a confusing metro bus system (I got on the wrong one), I ended up needing to get two Ubers just to pick up my bag from the hotel and get to the international terminal. By skipping dinner I got there in a reasonable amount of time.
This great difficulty in getting around didn't help with my overall opinion of the capital. I didn't have enough time to see it fully, but from the impression I got Bogotá was my least-favourite place I visited in Colombia, and not a patch on Medellín. I may be doing it an injustice though. I'd be willing to give it a second chance, if only to see the rest of the museums.
When checking in at the airport, I was informed by Avianca's staff member that there was a problem - the flight was overbooked. They were looking for volunteers to switch to the flight the following morning.
"What happens if I volunteer?"
"We put you in a 5-star hotel, with dinner, breakfast, and a $180 Avianca voucher".
"Volunteer please".
 |
| Five-star baby |
I had wanted to fly in the morning anyway, but the flight was double the price. I sat eating my sumptuous 5-star dinner waiting for someone to jump out and tell me this was all a scam. I was a little late for my flight the next morning because I wanted to enjoy the 5-star breakfast.
Thanks for the great send-off Colombia, and thanks for an amazing four weeks (I stayed longer than planned). I'll be seeing you again.
More photos of Bogotá
* Juan Valdez is a coffee chain that's like the Colombian Starbucks, only it's good. It's government owned, and they buy the best coffee beans off most of the small, independent producers.
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