It all worked out fine in the end! Diary of an older woman travelling solo in Colombia.

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Well, on Friday I went to see the so called famous salt cathedral which is only about 45 kilometres from Bogotá in a place called Zipicará. The cathedral 'no me impresionó mucho' but the journey was quite an adventure. On the outward journey, to avoid the dreaded Transmilenio, I took a taxi with the lovely hotel driver who told me that Colombian men didn't allow their wives to travel on their own although he approved of my doing so (no doubt just being tactful). However it then took an hour in the bus to get to the terminal I would have left from if I had not taken the taxi! Bogota is huge. The bus drivers are all mad - they swerve in and out of traffic and hoot their horns continuously. The conductor gets out of the moving bus at each stop to tout for business and also stops the traffic so people can get on without the bus having to pull in. Unless you get on in a station there are no tickets and I am convinced I was swindled out of the equivalent of £7.50 pounds by the second conductor although the first was very nice and took me across the road to show me the route to the cathedral. On the bus I met a Bogotá native who had lived almost all her life in the States, now in Florida, and she'd come over for medical treatment since she had no medical insurance there.

The cathedral, which is carved out of an old salt mine, has Stations of the Cross and is strictly for the devout, especially those who want to buy tourist tat! However I met a nice retired American couple who had just spent a month in Medellin, where I am also going, to get away from the Chicago winter. They came up to join me in the restaurant on the lovely main square where I had just eaten.

Funnily enough my best experience was on the Transmilenio which, of course, I hadn't intended to be on at all but it turned out that my bus didn't go to the terminal I thought it did! An older gentleman noticed me studying my map (there were no announcements about stops) on this bus and became very worried about whether I would manage to get off at the right stop (his was before mine) and whether it was safe for me to walk to the hotel from the stop. He enlisted the help of a young woman and a boy who turned out to be studying at an international school. The latter had already struck up a conversation with me after easily identifying that my Spanish was of the English variety! Anyway, I was bowled over by the way in which some people seem willing to take responsibility for complete strangers. I can only conclude that this is because I am an older foreign woman travelling on my own and a pair of young backpackers might not be so fortunate (or need as much looking after). As you can see, my trips never seem to go according to plan but work out all right in the end - so far.

This business of striking up conversations with complete strangers is of course, totally not me. I decided I had to make a conscious effort to do this if I was going to be able to survive three weeks on my own and also practise my Spanish. So far it's working!

Did not have a good start to Saturday. Ended up getting hopelessly lost going to the Transmilenio and had to make my way back to the hotel to order a taxi. I strolled up to reception trying not to look as if I was tired and hot from walking round in circles. Went up on the funicular to the top of Monserrate Mountain which is at 3100 metres plus above sea level. Glad I decided not to walk it! Bogotá stretches out for miles on the plain all around, framed by mountains. After that I was so exhausted retreated into a peaceful courtyard restaurant in the centre where I paid half as much again for some tiny pasties as I had for a three course meal yesterday.

Did three museums, one dedicated to Simon Bolivar who is hero worshipped in all the South American countries that he played a key role in liberating from their colonial rulers. Nice garden with all Bolivian plants (not sure why). Next an incredibly ornate former church and convent, covered in gold and paintings. I was most struck by the portraits of dead or dying nuns covered in flowers. Apparently once dead they were put on display for the devout to see after a lifetime of total seclusion and segregation. Most interesting though was the Police Museum. Lots of exhibits to do with fighting drugs, the various arms that they use, a jacket belonging to a very famous drugs baron, Pablo Escobar, (who had I don't know how many ministers killed) along with a roof tile which got stained with his blood during his escape from prison. Fortunately they caught him again. Not sure I approve as it seems a bit like glorifying him. The young policemen there were very charming but when I asked one how many policemen there are in Bogotá and Colombia he came up with gross underestimates, 2000 and 10000 respectively. If Lonely Planet is right he is way out as they say the Old Town of Cartagena alone is patrolled by 2000. I reckon I've seen a couple of hundred already here- they come in handy for asking for directions, which bus to get on, but their ubiquity does make you wonder how dangerous the city would be without them.



Off to catch a flight tomorrow, Sunday, to Santa Marta on the coast in a few hours and looking forward to the rest as it will be too hot to do much sightseeing!

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