Columbia – The Return

So for the second time this trip I got to call Columbia home. Arrived into Bogota, the capital, by plane from Cuba. Not unlike the other large city I stayed in Columbia, Medellin, I really enjoyed the place. Public transport was efficient, quick and easy that even a 'extranjero' could understand. The city also has put an emphasis on getting you out on your bike. I read it has the longest network of bike tracks of any city in Sth.America, and, on every Sunday they have a event called Ciclovia on which they close over 120km of the main roads throughout the city to allow people to get on their treadlies (bikes) to ride around without the problems of traffic. They also have the same event on public holidays, which luckily for the locals happen nearly once every 3 weeks (17 times a year. Nice!). The only downside is when the first day you arrive in Bogota happens to be one of these public holidays and your bus gets diverted unbeknownst to any oblivious gringo enjoying watching all those families out and about on their bikes. Closed roads during Ciclovia means changed bus routes, which means long walks, with heavy backpack, after the realization hits home that something ain't quite right and your bus should be somewhere else. Not complaining though. After all, the idea of Ciclovia is to get everyone out and exercising and it definitely worked for me.

The other outstanding thing I will remember about Bogota is the amount of street art (aka graffiti) that adorns many a building. There is so much that one of the most popular tours for visitors is the aptly named 'Graffiti Tour'. This is run by a company that meets in one of the plazas at the same time every day. The guides are paid by tips they receive at the end of the tour...it must be a lucrative gig. When I arrived, there was a group of people gathered with a guide talking who then started shuttling us away only for a different guide to appear and pronounce it was he that was our guide. Verbal abuse between the camps (2 or 3 in each group) ensued and many a confused tourist looked on wondering who it was they were meant to be following. Everyone ended being sheep like and decided to follow the late arriving guy with the company emblem emblazoned on his sweater, but doubts resurfaced as the 'losing' party enlisted the police to sort out the situation. So we were walking through the streets of Bogota, looking at painted walls, with the police and the disgruntled losing guides following us around. The police occasionally would take our guides to one side for a chat and the undeterred losing guides would sporadically come to the group to let us know we had been duped. Look, I really enjoyed checking out all that graffiti and the tour would have been great with just that, but add to this the soap opera drama called "Will the REAL tourist guide please stand up" and a truly memorable tour it was. I could never figure out who our true guide was so I took the only truly noble and ethical path, I didn't give a tip. Oh yeah, it was also turned out to be the cheapest.

After a few days in Bogota I headed back to the mountains to the village of El Cocuy, near the Venezuelan border. Here It was possible to take 3 different day hikes of which the first was the hardest at 22km long and an altitude difference of 1000m ending at 4700m. It was a really good hike that was somewhat spoilt by being snowed on near the top and subsequently, rained on as we descended. Great views beforehand and our guide (and hotel owner) Martha did an excellent job. The rain, snow and exhaustion combo unfortunately left me with a pretty bad cold which meant I only could go on a half hike for the rest of my time in Cocuy but it was such a beautiful place it didn't matter. Thanks to Sergio at La Esperanza for those great meals and for being a really good host.

My last destination in Columbia was the Amazonian village of Leticia which is only accessible by boat or plane. My time here was mainly spent a few hours upriver in the town of Puerto Nariño where I stayed in a hostel with the resident monkeys, macaws and got to see the Amazonian dolphins. Also got around to doing the bog standard piranha fish. A great relaxing few days here before setting sail down the Amazon into Brazil. But that is for another blog.

A few final points on Columbia. Their national game, Tejo, is worth a ear shattering mention. The game is played in a hall where you toss a discus shaped piece of lead towards a upstanding pit filled with clay. Stuck into the clay are various small triangular plastic looking pieces that are placed to form a circle. If your discus hits the clay within the circle you get 2 points, but, if it hits these pieces it's time for a wake up call. You see these pieces are filled with gunpowder and by hitting them dead on causes a mighty loud bang. The health and safety committee would not approve. Unfortunately you don't get a bang for your buck as this noise filled drama is only worth 1 point. Lots of fun. One last point about the game, it's free to play. The owners of these halls make their cash by the selling of beers, no more needs to be said.

I played Tejo during a bike tour of the city, strangely enough. During the tour I also learnt that the amount of tax Bogotans (Bogotistas?) pay from working is dependent on where they live. There are 7 tax brackets and if you are earning squillons but living in the worst slum then you are on the lowest tax bracket. Sounds like a recipe for corruption to me, of which they had a referendum while I was there. Not enough people voted so the tougher rules were not brought in. It seems the senator who tabled the bill is a lesbian and in this deeply religious country that is enough to keep people away in droves from making your country better. If true, hmmmm.

Finally, and a big finally it is. Finally, I am leaving all these coffee swigging countries. I probably drink about 2 cups a year on average so when thrown into a country renowned for its brew I gave it a go. It really was a waste of time. I wouldn't know a good cup from a dud and the offers to have a cup came thick and fast of which I accepted far too much. But it had to end. Back to my old tranquil self, brain set back to neutral, heart beating back in slow motion. Glad to have my old self back.