A Layover in Bogota

After a washout in Miami (but a stellar tour of the city -- thanks Zac), I left the states Thursday morning and arrived in Bogota at around 10AM. Since my flight for Quito wasn´t scheduled to leave until 4:30, after some research and some courage-building (note: some have complained about this comment, but I don´t think I´m going out on a limb to say that the world´s perception of Colombia is that it is dangerous. Perceptions are often wrong (as they are in this case), but check out this website for stats: http://www.nationmaster.com/red/graph/cri_mur_percap-crime-murders-per-capita&int=-1. ), I decided to leave the confines of the airport and venture into the city for a few hours.

There was a taxi booth right outside the airport that made it easy to find an official driver. Aduardo was happy to help me with my terrible Spanish, and I asked him to drop me off in la Candeleria, the main historical / cultural district in town. Before stepping out of the cab, I was already happy that I had made the trip. The city is beautifully situated, and the edges reach into the steep mountains surrounding it. There is a significant skyline, which I didn´t expect, and the roads were wide and well organized. Once we dodged our way through the typical choas in the commercial districts, the roads narrowed and a mix of colonial and pastel-ed buildings took the place of litter, junk-ridden stores and incessant car horns.

To start, I meandered up and down parallel streets, having my bag searched periodically by machine gun-toting policia and military. Those guys aren´t just part of the scenery -- they were actually very helpful in giving directions. It was like having three friendly personal tour guides at every corner. No one seemed to speak any English, though everyone was quite congenial about it. In one shop that I went into to buy some water and use a bathroom, I spoke with the owners, who jumped on the opportunity to give me travel advice, and pretty much said to avoid anyone with a beard or moustache. That seems a bit oversimplified (images of Castro, Che, and the bad guys in Romancing the Stone come to mind), but they were adamant about it and definitely left a tattoo on my awareness and peripheral vision.

The streets in the old town were quiet and peaceful, and the people were fun to watch. Nearly every hombre was wearing a black suit with a wide, brightly colored tie. As for the women, apparently boob jobs are extremely common in Colombia, and some girls even ask for them (and get them) on their sixteenth birthday. Juxtapose this with the vivid colors of the indigenous people and an occasional horse, and it made a spectacular scene.

I stopped into the Candela Cafe for lunch and since I didn´t know what I was talking about, ordered everything they offered. I ended up with a four-course meal: some kind of delicious chicken and rice soup, refresca (which was that day apparently some kind of fruit drink. I thought he said ´Fresca,´so I ordered it -- I lucked out with not getting sick from the water), broiled chicken, buttery rice and a fruity salad, and finally a plate of flan. All of it was fabulous. Everyone in the family was surprised to see me there and laughed, saying I was the first tourist they had ever served.

Gaining some confidence in the safety of the area and in my reaction to the elevation, I then climbed part of the hill behind the old town toward Ciudad Universitaria de Bogota. The school is built into the hillside, so I just climbed staircase after staircase until some photography professor asked me if I needed help. Apparently you can take some gondola contraption (teleférico y funicular) all the way to the top of the mountain (to Monseratte, a Jesus statue of course), but I´m happy I opted for the hike instead -- I think it provided a better view and allowed me to save five bucks.

Eventually I hailed a cleanly shaved cabbie and made my way back to the airport. I returned safely, and I recommend a foray into the city area for anyone with a long layover in Bogota. My experience here was short and limited, but as long as it´s during the day and you only use the official yellow cabs, it doesn´t seem any more dangerous than any big U.S. city. Like most places in the world, if you mind your own business and are aware of your surroundings, there seems to be little or no danger.

UPDATE 6-26 -- After another week of travel, I can say that more than any other country, travelers have great things to say about Colombia, particularly about its people. I regret not checking out more of it. It´s apparently expensive right now for Americans, but get there while you can -- before everyone else does.

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