Fun, but not 7 Days Worth
Trip Start
Apr 27, 2006
1
101
110
Trip End
Apr 01, 2008
Bogota,
Colombia
Monday, July 7, 2008
That said, it was another long bus ride to Bogota from Medellin, made worse by a four-hour delay for construction on a bridge. This was similar to when Natalie and I got stuck between Acapulco and Zihuatenajho in Mexico because villagers had blocked the road to protest not having potable water for three months. Similar in the sense that people were out of their cars and buses, chatting, wandering around, and food and beverage vendors were working the line of vehicles. Accordingly, I didn't get into the hostel until after 10:30 p.m., and I knew I had to be at the Brazilian embassy early Wednesday morning to apply for my visa
Another Panorama
.I had tried to get a visa in the U.S. but Brazil wanted to have my passport for 10 business days, which, because I planned this trip on short notice, was too longñ my flight left before I would have got it back. The embassy told me it would be 24-48 hours in Colombia. Not. They still want four business days. Which means, including the weekend, and the fact that you cannot pick it up except during a two-hour window in the afternoon, that I would be spending seven nights in Bogota. (Drop off the passport Wednesday morning, get it back Monday afternoon, after the only flight to Leticia has left, so I have to stay Monday night too.)
Plus, it was a major pain-in-the-ass. Brazil requires you to show how you are arriving and proof you are leaving, plus yellow fever vaccination, plus an application form, plus a picture, and a fee of around $150. I knew all this except for needing proof of my plane ticket to Brazil, which seems odd. So I explained that I couldn't get the ticket until I knew how long the visa would take. So it was explained to me that it would take 4 business days, and go buy your ticket and come back with proof. So I did, there being a travel agency conveniently across the street. So I go back to the embassy, thinking I'm good to go but for paying the fee
Another Plaza
. This was true, but they don't take cash. They give you a deposit slip and send you to the bank downstairs to deposit into the embassy account, where I stood in the wrong line, before standing in the right line, before making the deposit, getting my receipt, and returning to the embassy. And I'm good to go, so long as I don't need my passport - because they keep it: I have copies, but still.That was all before noon. That afternoon I went on a tour of Candelaria (the old part of Bogota) set up by the hostel with the Tourist Police as guides. They were less useless. Their English was atrocious and some points could not even be explained to some of the Spanish-speaking people on the tour. Plus, they made shit up. At point, during the Botero museum tour the policeman pointed at a rear-view bronze of a naked man and woman holding hands and said they represented Adam and Eve. The problem was that "Eve" was wearing a watch. I did the rest of the tour on my own. The money museum was nothing special. The Botero museum was pretty cool if you like his stuff, and I enjoy the whimsy of some of it, although he also paints political stuff such as a series about the mistreatment of prisoners at Abu Gharib. Finally, the Gold museum (it's closed, but some stuff is on display) with its examples of pre-Colombian Incan art was worth it.
That night, I sort of checked out the Zona Rosa, one of the two areas with concentrated restaurants, bars and clubs, but I wasn't feeling it, so I took a cab back to the hostel and ended up at a little cocktail place (Yumi Yumi) owned by a Brit, shooting the shit with him, his chef, and a couple dudes who had the worst skills at hiding the fact they were passing a bindle back and forth between bathroom trips
City Center
.Thursday I played Yahoo Mah Jong solitaire for at least three hours, getting the day's high score. Go me. I then gave into my craving for sushi. I had been warned by the American who owned the hostel in Medellin that he could not recommend any sushi in the entire country, but this place looked really nice and was clearly popular, so I braved it. Blech. The pulpo (octopus) was dry, they only had one deeply mediocre cold sake, and they used some sort of cabbage in lieu of daikon radish. Next was the Irish Pub. Huge. Four bars, a large patio, multiple rooms, packed to the gills, and not an authentic thing or person in the place. Decor from http://www.prefab/irish/bars.R.us and employees who couldn't pronunce Slainte Mhath for a millyun pesos (only about $60). But the Zona Rosa is pretty cool once you get there. Yet again another 20 square block area consisting of entirely restaurants, bars and clubs. After the Pub, I went to a funky bizarre bar with pink lights, faux Elizabethan chairs, and mock Jesus black velvet pictures featuring everything from Teletubbies to Bruce Lee. I then checked out a club called Paradiso that suposedly is limited to geriatrics (30 and older) who don't wear trainers (sneakers). It was alright, but mostly populated by couples, not singles, dancing in their own couply worlds and too loud to try to talk anyway.
I didn't really explore Bogota by day until Friday. It is a big city of 7 million people (the size of Manhattan), sitting at around 8,500 feet, and can take a while to get around. There is a decent bus system and cabs are cheap, but getting from the hostel to the Zona Rosa, for example, can take 45 minutes by public transportation or 20-25 by cab, all similar to New York or San Francisco, the difference being the cab will be $5
Panorama
. What is annoying is that the nightlife is centered in two spots, which is great once you get there, but inconvenient. It sits nestled under some mountains and is far more attractive from above (a funicular goes up to the top of Monserrate) than up close. But the chicks are hot. More Italian/Spanish looking than Central American/Mestizo, with hourglass figures, rather than pear-shaped.Friday and Saturday nights I hung with a bunch of people form the hostel. Friday, there was a couple, who were former investment bankers from London, who wanted to find some cocaine, but the girl got too drunk on wine to even go out with us. The rest were a grab bag from the U.S. and Austrailia. I ended up hanging with a guy from New York who spoke pasable Spanish and we met two chicas at the Irish Pub who wanted to take us to some club a few miles away. He was good to go, but I wasn't getting a good enough vibe from my girl (due to both a lack of chemistry and language) to make it worthwile, so we bailed and went to a different club, met two more girls with whom it did not work out, before ending up at a brothel for him. I wish I had my pictures from the girls at the whorehouse, too funny. Saturday was basically more of the same, although we checked out different bars and clubs.
Sunday, like most Catholic countries, was dead, but I had one of the best meals of this trip at, of all places, one of those revolving restaurants at the top of a skyscraper. Excellent smoked salmon and a crab and lobster casserole that was glorious. I'm writing this on Monday before I leave because I don't know when I will next get a chance, but I don't anticipate this being a wild night. I successfully regained my passport from the Brazilians and fly tomorrow to Leticia, Colombia, which is a three-way border town with Peru, Colombia and Brazil, and which is a jumping off point for Amazon jungle trips and boats, although I am not exactly sure what am I going to do yet. Regardless, next up is
The Amazon River
