BOGOTA - POST SCRIPT

28th - 30th Nov 2018

My New Best Friend in Bogota

The bus journey back from Santa Marta to Bogota, courtesy of Expreso Brazilia, was to be a mere 19 hours and would take us over some spectacular countryside. We left Santa Marta terminal in the dark at 6.30pm and I hoped that some of the most mountainous bits would be crossed when it got light again.

Left: Putting bags into the hold before departure I was standing behind these two delightful señoritas. OMG! These buses have fairly spacious seats but there are limits, and I suspect either of this pair would exceed them. I had visions of being seated next to one of them and pinioned in my seat, if not suffocated, by the overflowing mass. It brought back memories of a flight in a small aircraft from Livingstone to Ndola a few years ago when I nearly expired under the sweaty blubber of a VERY large African lady. Fortunately I was spared on this occasion. 

I think, by the way the bus leaned, that they were sitting to the rear starboard side.

At about 6.00am, and I had watched a couple of dreadful films and managed a few hours kip, we pulled into a large vehicle park. Again, no communication as to where we were or what was going on. We remained static for about 30 minutes and there were noises and shaking of the bus which indicated that they were changing a wheel (probably one on the rear starboard side). Then, shortly after setting off again, a U turn and into a café area for the single pit-stop. Time for a cup of coffee and a quick bite to eat while keeping an eagle eye on the bus and fellow passengers. I would not have liked to be stranded there!

Then through some spectacular mountainous countryside. Vistas, vast, to die for and so green. I would like to have taken photos but, as always on a moving vehicle, my photographic skills and wee camera were not up to it. Just when you see a fantastic view and get your camera out and focused, it has passed or a line of trees gets in the way. I rather gave up trying. You have to take my word for it.

On into the outskirts of Bogota which were particularly uninspiring with dirty industrial areas, lines of cheap housing, grotty shops (mainly car repair workshops) and large blocks of graffiti strewn apartments (right).

We got to the terminal at Salitre at 2.00pm. 

It may seem strange, but I rather enjoy these bus journeys.

While in Santa Marta I had sussed out that there was another 'Masaya' hostel in La Candelaria district. So I got an efficient Uber taxi there and was not disappointed. 

Left: The atrium in this Masaya. Christmas tree already up. Very comfortable room and a great bar and dining area all at a very reasonable price (£30 equivalent). Plus being in a good location.

I spent my last 24 hrs in Colombia revisiting a few sites around town. Mainly around and about Carrera #7 (right) and a couple of decent restaurants mentioned previously.

The main street featured lots of stalls selling weird and wonderful gizmos.....

.......plus an over-abundance of people selling 'selfie-sticks' (I think that is what they are called). I have never had the slightest desire to buy one, but they are obviously popular amongst tourists wanting to take a 'selfie'. There were at least five of them at it in the Plaza Bolivar......

.......together with the usual infestation of pigeons. Vendors sell little bags of corn to those wishing to feed the pesky creatures, who seemingly get pleasure out of the filthy birds perching, and probably crapping, on them. Am I missing out on something here? They are vermin!

Left and below: Lots of 'human statues' which can be irritating but one must give them credit for imagination and the endurance to stand still for long periods. They briefly come to life when someone puts money in their tins and frighten the children. This one (left), the Grim Reaper, was hovering.

Right: Mr Spaceman or Star Wars warrior, or whatever, made weird electical noises and lit up when 'paid'.

















Left: Another rather patriotic one.

Right: These two were 'off duty' and having a discussion on the merits, or otherwise, of their chosen career.

Left: As at the top, there were some, often rather mature, gentlefolk dancing to recorded music and hoping a generous soul (ie. me) would fling a few pesos at them. Which I did.

I wonder if this is something I could try in my home town. I suspect it would result in something other than money being flung at me.

Right: A row of enthusiastic and very serious chess players. 

Their concentration was palpable.


















Left: A last look up at Cerro de Monserrate'

So, evening of the 29th, I took a final Uber to El Dorado International airport. Thankfully I had given myself lots of time as the rush hour roads were jammed. I began to wonder if we would ever get there. The 3 mile journey took nearly an hour. Long Qs at check in, even longer Qs at security, where my trusty bottle-opener with a ½ inch blade was confiscated (I ask you!) and further Qs at passport control. Then discovered that the flight was delayed by an hour. Slightly worrying because I had a fairly tight connection in Madrid. Uneventful if tedious flight (Air Europa; Spanish equivalent of Ryanair) but by good fortune I had a row of 3 seats to myself. The rest of the aircraft was full! My snoring reputation must have preceded me. As the ongoing flight to London Gatwick was also Air Europa it generously waited for us late arriving passengers who had sprinted madly down miles of corridors to get to it. From Gatwick at 7.00pm (with few Qs, amazingly) by train to Reading. Things were going too well. It couldn't last. And it didn't. Friday night and a packed Reading station. The onward train was delayed (indefinitely) with the most frequently heard announcement on British railway stations "we are sorry to announce". Crowds of us on platform 7 and not happy. Another announcement, "the train will now be leaving from platform 13". Like lemmings we all scampered off up escalators and down stairs to platform 13. I think they do this as a sort of 'in house' joke and have a bit of a giggle watching passengers rush about the place. I made it home, eventually.

Anyway, I much enjoyed Colombia and, apart from the pickpocket incident, had a safe and hassle-free trip (until getting back to UK of course). I strongly recommend the place. The country's 'dangerous' reputation is well out of date. I'm sure there are dangerous areas and nasty people there but no more so than in any other country and easily avoided. Its reputation for having the 'prettiest' girls in the world is somewhat over-blown. I still rate Ukraine and Vietnam much higher in this regard but that is, of course, a matter of opinion.