Leaving Bogota...twice.

Today was my last day in Bogota. The plane was at 7:30 at night so I had all morning and afternoon to do something, so I met up with a lady I had found on the Couch Surfing network. She is a fashion designer and I was interested in getting an insight on the fashion industry in South America.

There is no subway or tram system in Bogota, but there is the red bus system (that's what I call it anyway). It kinda looks like a subway system, in that it has it's own lanes that cars can't use and it has "stations". The bus pulls up, doors open, folks get on from the platform, etc, but it's all articulated red buses. Very cool, and much cheaper to implement than building a subway. It's a really handy system to move people along major arteries in town, and to supplement this are the collectivos that service the areas in between.

Anyway, it took me about 30 min to get to our meeting spot and I was amazed at the fact that it looked like I was in a completely different city. This place was trendy an sophisticated (I was pretty sure that I could have gotten a grade A coffee here) - the wealth was apparent here...And there were private security guards everywhere.

Andrea is positively lovely, and it was really great to be able to get her perspective on the Fashion industry in South America in general and Colombia more specifically.  I know that our students struggle to find someone to manufacture their goods - especially in Canberra. In Colombia, Andrea had no trouble sourcing small scale manufacturers, it was selling something different, something creative that was more difficult. She told me that in her studies, business was the focus - creativity was barely glanced at. She told me that she struggled with that because it was her creativity that was screaming to get out. Perhaps this is why there's so much graffiti here - the creativity is screaming to get out, to be seen, and to be acknowledged.

After spending the better part of the afternoon with Andrea, I rushed back to the hostal to get my cab to the airport, and to miss the on coming storm. I arrived an hour early, so I had time for a nice cup of tea and time enough to write an entry in my travel diary. I checked my entry from the day before to write down the date - I find remembering the date is really hard when I'm on vacation - the 20th. That meant that today was the 21st. Oh. I checked my plane ticket. 22nd Jan. Oh. I asked the hostal lady what the date was and she confirmed that it was the 21st. Oh. She laughed when I asked her to cancel the cab for me. Damn it. Now I had to go out and get more cash out of the ATM and grab another meal.

The next day I decided to go up to the top of Monserrate - it is a mountain that, conveniently, I was very near...well, it looked near. One of the fellows at the hostal told me that Sunday is not the day to go because, according to what he had read in the Lonely Planet guide, everyone goes there on Sundays. It was my last chance to go though, so I went. And the LP is quite right EVERYONE goes there on Sundays. It was packed. I was planning on taking the cable car up to the top, but the mood was so festive that I ended up following the crowds up the path and ended up going up on foot. Normally, this path is a dangerous place known for its muggings, but there is safety in numbers. And boy, did we have numbers! There were places that had severe bottlenecks due to the amount of people. It took me just over an hour to make it to the top - it was a little like a flash back to the Inca Trail with all the steps and steep inclines!

At the top is a big white cathedral and the views are truly amazing. The sprawl of this massive city is really impressive. The throngs at the top were also quite impressive, but as I'm not a big fan of throngs and I had just spent the better part of an hour heaving myself up the mountain with them - I didn't stay too long. Knowing what was waiting for me on the downward path, I opted to get the cable car down. I wasn't the only one though and I spent another 40 min waiting in a queue to catch one.

By the time I finally got back down I was quite hungry. There were vendors lining both sides of the street...what to have? I ended up going for the mystery meat on a stick with a small baked potato on top. It smelled really good and the sauce on the meat made it look juicy and yummy. Looks can be deceiving. The potato was pretty good, but after chewing the meat for a little while, unable to break it down, I decided it was a lost cause. I spit it out and hoped some poor street dog wasn't going to choke on it.

I looked at the other stalls, selling t-shirts, necklaces, doo-dads, and whats-its for a while and then it was time to head back to the hostal and gather my things for the marathon trip back to Australia.

Bike Tour

I thought I would give my walking legs a break today and go on a bike tour. A few people at the hostal had done it and it came very highly recommended. The tours are run by Mike, a US journalist who has reported all over South America.

Emeralds embedded in the stone

We started by going to the main square, but we were stymied because a relic of Pope JP II was at the cathedral so the place was cordoned off to accommodate the hordes of nuns, priests, and other papal enthusiasts. We then went off to where the emerald traders were. There were heaps of people gathered on a corner, many of them were carrying hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of emeralds. A couple of them came over to our group and showed us their wares - some absolutely gorgeous stones. I just couldn't get over the fact that all this was done out in the open!

It says, "Don't turn the other cheek"

 We rode on, down the street, dodging cars that only very loosely follow the road rules. Mike showed us some great graffiti along the way to the market. There's a lot of graffiti in Bogota and some of it is really impressive.

Once we arrived at the market we tried all sorts of weird and wonderful fruits. Many of them I had never heard of nor seen before and most of them were very tasty...but there were a couple that were unbelievably sour - all of us had a grimace when we lied and said, "mmmmm good!" After navigating through the lovely, colourful fruits, we ventured into the meat section - which made me want to become a vegetarian. Whole pig skins hanging from hooks, intestines, innards, cow legs complete with hooves, and even a cow's head. It's truly gruesome when you are confronted with what it means to eat meat: DEATH. Naturally, after the death we went to the flowers. Did you know that cut flowers are one of Colombia's four main exports? Can you guess what the other three are?

Onwards we went, riding through some industrial areas to the red light district. Prostitution is legal in Colombia, as long as the ladies (or gentlemen) stay in designated areas. I have no pictures of this particular area - apparently the ladies don't like to have their photographs taken...go figure. Besides prostitutes look pretty much the same in most countries I reckon.


Hmmmm what's good after a red light trawl? How about a look at a micro coffee roasting facility? The roaster took up the most of a fair sized room and as we arrived the beans were released into the pan. Now, I'm not a coffee aficionado, but the smell was fantastic. All of the grade A coffee in Colombia is shipped overseas so it's actually quite difficult to get a decent cup of coffee here. We were given a grade A bean to chew on as well as a Grade C...you certainly tell the difference! We were also given cacao beans...how something so repugnant can become something so magical as chocolate, I don't know.

The grave on the left is the old president...

After our little coffee break we went on to the Central Cemetery of Bogota. This is a massive cemetery where 17 former presidents are buried along with various other notable persons such as famous scientists, poets and writers and the German migrant who brought beer to the shores of Colombia. The story goes that if you whisper your wishes into his ear (ok, the ear of his statue) he will grant them for you. There are also regular people who, for some reason, have become "sainted" by the people. These tombs are visited and prayed to by people who are hoping for miracles. There was one near the entrance that was quite impressive and BIG! People had placed flowers and other small gifts in order to prove their worthiness (I guess). Right next to this tomb was a small grassy grave...of a former president. The difference was quite striking.

We went on to see some other sites (don't want to give it all away in case you go), but the skies were threatening - we had all seen what the afternoon storms were like and we did not want to get caught out. We made it back just in time.

Lost in Bogota

On my previous day's trawling, I had stopped at the local tourist information kiosk to pick up additional maps and get more information on what was not to be missed in the city. One of the suggestions was a walk down one of the main streets, Avenida Jimenez. Apparently there were heaps of interesting things to see along this road, starting with the Museo de Oro (the gold museum). Now Bogota is set up like New York in that it has a grid system of Streets and Avenues that are numbered - easy to navigate, right?

There's lots of great graffiti in Bogota

I looked at the map at breakfast; go down 9th street to 7th avenue, then follow 7th to Jimenez. So straight forward! Tucked the map into my purse (nothing says TOURIST more than a map in the hand - pul-eeze!) and off I went down 9th...past 7th to what I now believe was 10th ave. Ah, I arrived at a large main artery-type road so I thought it was Jimenez. I started to walk down that street. Hmmm, I thought, it is curious that the tourist guide thought this was an interesting street...there are hardware stores here. I kept walking anyway. People were looking at me curiously - what? Did I not blend in with the rest of the city's citizens with my hiking boots and rolled up pants? The hardware stores gave way to motorcycle parts stores and mechanics...even more curious. Where was the park they mentioned? The museums and cathedrals? I kept walking. I was a little afraid of taking out my map because the neighbourhood looked a little bit rough. Surely, eventually it would give way to something better. Is that a guy? What is he wearing?! I had inadvertently wandered into the transsexual red light district. DON'T stare. Just keep walking. Now people were really looking at me strangely - not threateningly, just..."this chick must be lost" looks. I thought that perhaps I should, not go back the way I came - I already saw that - but eastwards which is the direction I had come from to get to this street. Only 2 blocks up and things began to improve markedly.

A courtyard at the National Museum

I had been wandering for 3 hours already and I was getting a bit peckish. I stopped in a cafe for a nutritious cupcake and tea. As I sat at the window to enjoy my tasty treat, I saw that I was right across the street from the National Museum! Cool! The National Museum, built in 1823, is an impressive building that used to be a prison - it looks like a fortress. Inside they have everything from artifacts dating from 10 000 BC to modern art. The displays were only in Spanish so I didn't understand a lot, but it was all very interesting to look at.



I continued eastward, enjoying the variety in the architecture, the colourful graffiti, and I did eventually find that park they mentioned in the tourist guide. By 3:30 I found the Museo de Oro - the museum has 3 stories and it is filled with room after room of gold.  I had been walking since 9:00 and my legs were killing me - I wasn't used to the altitude anymore. This museum is all about the gold work that the pre-Spaniard people of the area are famous for. They were master metallurgists and the fine craftsmanship that they managed is truly remarkable! It never ceases to amaze me how all these "primitive" civilisations managed to figure out how to make alloys, build impossible buildings in impossible places, and domesticate plants and animals.

Where it all happened

When I finally made it back to my hostal, I was pooped...and starving.  I rested my legs a little and asked one of the other girls in the dormitorio if she was keen to go out an get a bite a little later. She was, so at 7:30 we asked one of the hostal workers to let us out - the gate is always locked. As we stepped out she told us to be very careful as it was already dark. Yeah, yeah...I'd been places that day I shouldn't have been and I was fine...but I guess it's always good to be cautious. The sky was threatening rain so I had brought my trusty rain poncho with me, I draped it over my arm in an effort to hide my purse. We heard the gate close and lock behind us and we proceeded down the street. There were two guys loitering on the corner. Hmmm. They were looking in our direction. Hmmm. We drifted towards the other side of the street, we were headed that way anyway. That's when the first fellow came after me. The other fellow stayed back a little keeping watch down the cross street; my "friend" from the hostal started running back up the street. The first fellow lunged and tried to grab my bag, but I raised up my arm to protect it and yelled, "FUCK YOU!" at the top of my lungs. As I raised my poncho arm I tried to deck him with my other hand...and missed him by a mile. In hind sight that was probably a good thing. As my poncho arm came down he tried again to grab my bag, and by now his friend had come to help. I kept yelling my defence mantra of "FUCK YOU!" and noticed that as my ponch arm came down the hood flopped. I grabbed hold of the poncho with my hand and started flailing it about like a floppy sword. "FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU". Fellow two had a knife. I didn't see it until it was coming towards me...well, coming towards my purse strap. The poncho came round again and he had to duck out of the way. By now there were people running up the street yelling and the lady who's house we were struggling in front of came out with a large stick. The two guys turned tail and ran off.

I can't say that I was thinking rationally when all this happened. The only thing that went through my head when I saw that guy going for my things - my camera was in there, with all my pictures - was, "I don't fucking think so." I never feared for my personal safety, it may seem odd but it was like I wasn't even there as far as they were concerned - they didn't pay any attention to me; only my purse mattered, it was the only thing they looked at.

My friend and I then proceeded to grab our bite to eat. My heart was racing for the next hour.

Bogota, Colombia

The last stop on my journey is Bogota, Colombia.  Most people's initial reaction to this was, "Why would you go there?! Its so dangerous!" Well, I did do some research and it's a little dangerous in that there are some really desperate people there, but the whole getting kidnapped by FARC is pretty unlikely in the centre of Bogota.

My first surprise was the sheer magnitude of the city - there are over 8 million people living here - I thought this was going to be just a medium sized town. My second surprise was the temperature. I don't know why, but I thought it would be warm in Bogota...it's in Colombia; Colombia is full of jungles...no? Well, Bogota is 2625m above sea level, so it's wee bit chilly, especially compared Nicaragua! Third surprise: my hostal. This is by far the coolest hostal I have ever stayed at. It is located in the Candelaria neighbourhood, which is where Bogota's history began. Outside it's just a big iron gate and a hall. When you open the inner door you enter into a court yard with colourful hammocks and flowers. There are 3 courtyards in all, and the rooms line the outside. In the middle, between the first and second courtyard is the kitchen - with a great big wood stove keeping the room warm. Then, in between the second and third courtyard, is the dormitorio (where I stayed). Its an adobe building with pristine white walls on the inside. The covered hallways are cobblestone, the ceilings are exposed beams, and the floors in the rooms are old wood planks. Beautiful. The staff were always smiling and happy to lend a hand and there was an unlimited supply of tea and coffee. But back to Bogota...

Palace of Justice

After dropping off my bags and putting on a sweater, I tentatively ventured out...it does have a bad rap after all! The ladies at the hostal gave me a map of the area, and it was still light out, so I did my standard recon mission of the surrounding area - starting with the main square, Plaza de Bolivar. The plaza has the Palace of Justice (where the supreme court is) faced by the Congress building, and on the other 2 sides we have the Mayor's seat (called the Liévano building) and opposite that, dominating them all, is La Catedral Primada. There is a sad and ironic story to the Justice Palace, it is the 3rd building that has been built there - the other 2 were destroyed; once in 1948 during a riot and again in 1985 when guerrilla group M-19 took hostages there. The building was destroyed when the army was called to free the hostages. The irony is that the current mayor of the city, working in the building right next to the Palace of Justice, was once a member of the M-19 guerrilla group.

That artist I don't remember..

After wandering the streets for a while the skies opened up and there was a massive deluge (these were an almost daily occurrence I would soon learn). I stood under an overhang for 15 min with many others who had been caught without their umbrellas. I checked my map and saw that I was not too far from the Botero museum so I ran between the raindrops to see what Botero had to offer the world of art.  Fernando Botero is known for painting fat things. No matter what the subject matter his figurative style is fat. I have to admit that although his colours are beautiful and the work is clean - it just doesn't float my boat. As an aside, I did see some of his earlier works in the National Museum and I preferred that. Luckily for me there were other artists in there as well, Picasso, Chagall, Monet, Degas, Dali...you know all the big names! There were a few rooms dedicated to South American artists - one in particular that I couldn't tear away from...did I take a picture of his name so I could remember it? No. sigh. I wandered the gallery for a few hours and when I left the rain had stopped and the sun was saying goodnight.

I went back to the Hostal, hoping I could find someone who wanted to come out to dinner with me, as I was told not to wander the streets alone at night. Luckily, there was a British lady there who was hungry enough and who knew a great Mexican restaurant around the corner. There we had a lovely dinner and no mishaps to or from. Was all this just fear-mongering? Was it all just exaggeration?

Catedral Primada

Nicaragua

I left paradise the next morning. I was on my way to Nicaragua to visit my parents and see my brother who was coming down from Canada. For those of you who don´t know, my parents have retired to Nicaragua. They have a house near the town of Granada, which is close to the border of Costa Rica and at the foot of the Mombacho volcano. Now, I shan´t bore you with the details of my family reunion, but I´ll let you know about the things that I saw when I was there.

Granada is a lovely little town that was founded in 1524. It has colourful colonial houses which are very Caribbean-like (not surprising when you consider the location!). Here you can still see horse or ox pulled wagons alongside the new 4X4s. There are money changers in the streets with massive wads of cash that they wave at gringos as they pass. I bought a hammock from an organisation that teaches street kids how to make them - I wasn´t sure how I was going to fit a 2kg hammock in my already bulging bag, but....


Nicaragua is known as the country of lakes and volcanoes. It has a string of 13 volcanoes that make up a back bone of sorts on the Pacific side. We visited 2 of these; Mombacho and Masaya, as well as a laguna that used to be a crater, Laguna de Apoyo.

Coffee beans drying on Mombacho

They grow coffee on the Mombacho so half way up we stopped to have a taste and to have a glimpse of how they dry the green coffee beans. Every morning the neat, covered piles of beans are spread out with a shovel and then carefully raked into perfect rectangles. We continued up the volcano in the back of a pickup truck and the going was so steep that I feared that we would all fall out of the back. The temperature was dropping quickly as well - we were driving into the clouds that often hover over Mombacho. 


We had come prepared to do the 4 hour hike around one of the 4 craters, but when we got there we found that we were not allowed to go forward without a guide, due to potential Puma encounters. So we contented ourselves to a hike around the smaller crater. The cloud cover did not lift so we did not get a clear glimpse, but it is unknown when the last eruption here was and the inside of the crater is completely overgrown now with a lush, green forest. 



Masaya volcano

Volcan Masaya is a huge contrast. This volcano is still active and it last erupted in 2003. When you drive up towards the volcano, you can see that there isn´t much growing around here -the ground is littered with giant volcanic boulders.   The crater is grey and desolate. There´s a steady stream of noxious sulfur dioxide that slowly drifts up from the crater´s depths. Curiously there are birds (vultures I suspect) that float about in this stinky plume. When you climb up to the top - they recommend staying no longer than 20 min in case the fumes make you pass out. You can see the wide circle of devastation all around it.

Laguna Apoyo

Laguna de Apoyo  is the crater of a volcano that erupted 23000 years ago (how they figure this stuff out, I dunno) and is now filled with water. It´s a very popular local weekend destination as the views from the top are spectacular...and they sell sugar cane (makes my teeth hurt when I eat it, but I can't help myself!). You can go swimming there (we didn´t though) and I´m told that since its a volcano crater there is no slope - you jump in and its deep. You never touch bottom....well, not without special gear at any rate!

Nicaragua

Last Call

So what does one do on one´s last day in paradise? Well, I started with a trip to the hospital.

Three days had passed since my last dive and my left ear had still not "popped" so I still could not hear properly out of it. I was getting on the plane the next day and I feared what would happen with the pressure of going up and back down. So, to assure myself that all was going to be ok I went to the hospital, which was conveniently only 2 blocks away.  The lovely doctor there checked out my ear and said that there was no damage and that all would be alright eventually. Thus assured, I rented a snorkel and mask and went to the beach at Punta Estrada.

To get to Punta Estrada I had to take a water taxi across the small harbour, it literally takes 3 minutes, because there is no other way to get there. I shared my taxi with a lovely Italian couple who I kept running into that day. They had rented an apartment in Puerto Ayora for a month...for $500! I wish I had thought of that!

When I got to the beach it was low tide and when I went in with my gear I saw some more colourful fishies and even saw a sting ray. As a lake swimmer I´m used to not really worrying what´s in the water with me...its mostly harmless stuff down there. Seeing something that could potentially hurt you, if you disturb it, in relatively shallow water certainly gives one pause when swimming in the ocean!





There was another little place to see a little farther along called Las Grietas. It was a little bit of a hike to get there and I was wearing my flip-flops. Normally this would be alright, but it was really hot (again) and I had already busted 2 blisters - that hurt! The walk was over volcanic rock which made the straps really rub the raw meat of my poor feet.

Las Grietas

Las Grietas is a fissure in the volcanic rock that has filled (partially) with some briny water - its about 15m deep. I had envisaged a quiet, peaceful place - but it was Saturday and everybody and his brother was there. The water was notably colder here since the sun rarely had a chance to warm it. Again I donned my mask and snorkel and set out. 


I swam to the end where there were less people and I noticed that beyond some rocks, the water continued. I climbed over the rocks, with great difficulties - volcanic rock is pointy - and continued swimming. There were three more rock obstacles and yes, there were some pretty sizable fish in there. At the end of Las Grietas was silence. I could hear nothing of the chaos at the other end. 


After swimming back and putting on my flip-flops, I realised that there was a problem - feet slide right off flip-flops when they´re wet. I nearly fell over trying to climb over the rocks. The walk back was not as painful as the walk in - I guess my feet became numb to the pain - and when I got back to the beach high tide had come in. The beach had almost completely disappeared! I went in for another swim and lazed in the sun while chatting with the Italians again. I used to be able to spend the better part of the day on the beach, but I must say that this doesn´t appeal to me anymore. So, after a short while I took the water taxi back to Puerto Ayora.




This was my last night here, and I spent it wandering the main street, watching the pelicans and sea lions vying for the fishermen´s leftovers (so much for not interfering with the wildlife!) I stopped for a fantastic passion fruit and blackberry gelato and I savoured it while watching the waves come into the port.

I´m definitely coming back here!

Payment is Due

I paid for the awesomeness of the 2 dives the next day.

I should have just stayed in bed and given my sick body time to recover from the dives and my cold - but I didn´t. I organised a tour of Isabella island instead. I should have known that when not even the Sinutab worked that it was a bad idea.

The 2 hour boat ride was uncomfortable and the tour itself was slapdash. We got to the island and had to take a water taxi to the dock..."ok this one...no, this one...oh, he´s not coming - we´ll wait for the next guy". When we finally got there we had to wait for the bus...waiting, waiting, waiting. "Ok quickly, quickly everyone on the bus, we´re going to see flamingos." We drove to a tiny salar - looked more like a pit that someone had dug out with a bulldozer - where there were 3 flamingos. "Usually there are more. Has everyone taken a picture? Ok back on the bus, we´re going to the beach." They drove us to the beach where we had 30 min to enjoy- I spread out my rain poncho, that I had brought just in case, and had a nap. Anyway, the tour continued in this fashion and I was just so congested, sore and tired that there was no way I could enjoy.

When I got back to my hostal at around 5 I just crashed and burned. I slept til 9, found a restaurant that had chicken soup and went back to sleep. I had planned to go on a tour of Floreana island the next day, but it didn´t look good.
Oddly enough, the next day I felt much better and decided to give Floreana a go.

Floreana

The tour to Floreana was much better and quite informative. Its a small island south of Santa Cruz - there are only 5 families living there - it has a sad and tragic past. Pirates used the Galapagos as a hiding spot in the 1600 and it was actually a pirate that first mapped the area. Floreana is the only island with a fresh water source, so you can well imagine how important this tiny speck of land was. Pirate wars were fought here over this little spring. Later, early settlers went mad at the isolation of the place and died lonely deaths.

 

The giant tortoises, unique only to Floreana, were a handy meat source for pirates and later explorers on their long sea voyages since they don´t have to be fed or watered for long periods of time. There are now no longer any of these tortoises left. Conservationists are using this is island now to house hybrid tortoises that had been interbred many years ago. They are now all quarantined on this island so that they don´t interfere with the "pure" DNA of the tortoises from the other islands. These lovely creatures live over 150 years - they look like a link to the prehistoric past.

We also went snorkeling at Floreana - I could have gone on Isabella as well, but I was scared that I was going to fall asleep and drown! The water was quite chilly, but again I got to see some wonderful sea turtles and some great colourful fishes...and at one point a penguin dove in right in front of me! He and his buddy hung around me for a few minutes and then they were gone - Holy crap they are fast swimmers!