MORE MEDELLIN

19th -20th Nov 2018

The late Pablo Emillo Escobar Gaviria. 1949-1993

I was taken on a 'Pablo Escobar' tour of the city by a charming 'guide' called Neo. Just me and him. He stressed that nobody in the country has a good thing to say about the arch narco-terrorist Escobar and this tour was not intended to glorify him. Actually that is not strictly true. For all his foul deeds and criminal activity he donated billions to provide housing and facilities for the poor. Purely a means of survival and self-promotion of course but, amazingly, there are still a lot of poorer people here who revere him! After all there were 25,000 who turned up at his funeral! He had even 'bribed' his way to beome a Congressman, for a short time.

He was, without doubt, a vicious and utterly brutal man, outlandishly arrogant and with a mountainous, almost childlike, ego. However, he was also undoubtedly clever in a street-wise fashion and effectively through bribery, threats and, when that didn't work, bombings and murder courtesy of any number of well paid hit-men and a private army, he controlled politicians, police, the army and judiciary. That is how he effectively ruled the city of Medellin and made fortunes from his cocaine  cartel business during the 1980s until his death in 1993. His wealth was valued at US$ 30 billion and at one point was world's 7th wealthiest person on the Forbes Rich List. I always wonder why a character like that does not wish to put his talents to legal and profitable use. I suspect it is all about a bloke from a relatively poor background with an enormous chip on his shoulder wanting to flaunt power and be a Mr Biggest of the Big. Its all about ego and power.

If you are interested in the details of his 'career' it is well documented on Wikipedia so I won't bother to elaborate. Suffice to say his life was entirely devoted to criminal activity from teenager onwards.

Left: His first HQ and 'office' (the one now with the green banco front) when running his cocaine cartel was in the suburb of Envigado, with a pawn shop across the street (with the Omega sign) which was one of many establishments 'laundering' his ill-gotten gains.

Wanting to move into the big time, and flaunt it, he built this 7 storey building as his next Headquarters. It is in Poblado and in a smart and prestigious street. He called it 'Dallas" after the South Fork TV series. It is now a 4 star hotel.

He had many extravagant residences around the city, indeed the country and abroad plus, of course, private helicopters, yachts and all the trappings money could buy.

Left: The shrine to Santisima Virgen Rosa Mistica off a main street, again in Poblado. This is in a pretty little grotto and was where Escobar's, and other cartel's hit-men, went to pray and place plaques to ask for spiritual guidance and protection! They were staunch Catholics. It was always the custom of worshippers to place little inscribed marble plaques on the steps, but the gangsters in the 1980s rather tore the arse out of it with 'unsuitable' inscriptions (ie. 'May God protect me and extinguish my enemies' etc). and locals, understandably, avoided the place during that period.


Right: There is a vast casino on the opposite side of the street. Worshippers at the shrine are now doubtless 'praying' for a big win.












Having acquiring great wealth, Pablo demanded respect and wanted to join the prestigious Country Club in the neighbourhood.  This is a club for the city's elite. He was refused membership and the 'traditionally minded' members did not bow to his threats; "Not the done thing old chap, against Club Rules to threaten to blow the place up don't cha know". Anyway, suitably piqued and furious, he proceeded to build another great pile to house himself, family and guards just opposite and in full view of the Club (left). It had tennis courts, swimming pool, barbecue area and a super-luxurious penthouse suite, plus heli-pad, for his personal use. It was a 'two-fingered' gesture to the Country Club members and to show them who had the real money and power around town. He called the place 'Monaco' after the Principality as he regarded himself as royalty.
It was subsequently bought by the city, but is now abandoned and semi-derelict. 

Pablo had many enemies, as you can imagine. A group of them, some of whom had previously been friends and henchmen of his but had fallen foul of him, set up an anti-Escobar vigilante gang called the PEPEs ('Perseguidos por Pablo Escobar' meaning 'Persecuted by Pablo Escobar'). They waged war on Escobar, further escalating the violence in the city.

He was arrested in 1988 and given a deal by frightened judges (he had already had two of them assassinated). They said he should be imprisoned for 6 years and have no further narcotics cartel dealings, after which the slate would be wiped clean. Not only that, he could build his own private gaol, which he did and which resembled a Country Club with luxurious facilities. In typically grandiose style he called it 'La Catedral'. It was out of bounds to the police. Also rather typically he continued to run his cartel from here. After less than a year the Government lost patience and were going to remove him to a high security prison, so he escaped. Silly bugger, he was now on the run. 

Added to his problems was the fact that a new President and Congress had been elected and were free from the threats and bribes which restricted the previous regime. They passed a vote to enable the US to help them round up Escobar and his cohorts and stamp out the narco-syndicates. An elite police task force called the 'Search Bloc' was established with US advice and support, and probably contained a few 'PEPEs'. 

After 4 years of hunting him (he was permanently on the move by now), thanks to a clever mobile phone tracking operation, on 2nd December 1993, the day after his birthday, he was cornered in a modest house in the Los Olivos district. He and his long serving driver/bodyguard, Límon, were the only occupants. Límon rather rashly opened fire on the police cordon at the front of the house. Fire was returned 'con gusto' and Límon killed. Pablo decided to make a break for it out of an upstairs window at the back of the house. He jumped down onto a lower flat roof and then, apparently, made a fatal error. He drew his pistol when confronted by the Search Bloc police at the back (or so we are told).  One of the several bullets that hit him went through his head. That was the end of Pablo Escobar.

Right: The photo I took of the back of the house in Los Olivos from which Escobar tried to escape from the now bricked-up window onto the low roof.

Left: The scene at the time. Happy Birthday Pablo!

Right: His grave at the Jardins Monte Sacro. He is buried alongside his mother and other family members. I did not take this photo but it shows at least someone  liked him.

Left: His grave at the moment. It is undergoing 'renovation' sponsored by his remaining family in preparation for the 25th anniversary of his death on 2nd December.

Right: Part of the large Jardins Monte Sacro cemetery (and I can't remember where it is, but some way out of town). Escobar's grave is where people are standing to the right of photo.

I asked if there had ever been an attempt to desecrate or damage his grave which, given his past, one would think likely. But no, Neo told me, this is a Catholic country and everyone respects graves regardless of the incumbents.

I hope that was interesting. It interested me!


Surrounding the city there are several 'Barrios' (districts) of very poor housing running up the vertiginous sides of the valley. The Medellin City Council is very forward thinking and has installed three cable-car routes to get up to these Barrios. More are in the planning. One of these cable-car routes takes you, in three stages, to the very top of a mountain where there are  good views and pleasant walks in the forests. Its all part of the Metro system. I decided to go and see.

Metro to a northern station, name forgotten, then seamlessly onto a smart modern cable-car (all included in the price). These (left) are the quaint little 8 seater gondolas which travel up the hillsides...........

....sometimes only just scraping over the houses. Right: You get good views straight into people's rooms! Rather disconcerting for the occupants I would have thought.

I don't on the whole like cable cars, especially the ones high in the sky and which sway about. These little cars did sway a bit, but were usually quite close to the ground

Unfortunately, when I reached the final stage up to the mountain-top I found it had been closed for maintenance. Slightly disappointing, but I got the gist of it.

....and then all the way back down and to Poblado for an evening amongst the convivial 'celebrating' crowds.

Left: Just outside my hostel was this small outdoor gym. It was in continuous use. Not by me, I hasten to add. Many of the locals seem to take their fitness seriously. 

So that is just about all from Medellin. I was impressed by the city and I believe all Colombians regard Medellin as the smartest and most progressive city in the country. 

On next to Cartegena on the Caribbean coast to the north. Vamos!

MEDELLÍN

17th - 18th Nov 2018

Medellin bus station

Off to Medellin (pronounced 'Medesheen') by bus from the Terminal de Transportes, at Salitre, in Bogota. These bus stations in all South America are a cut above the scruffy thrown-together disorganised shelters we put up with in UK. They are more like airport terminals. They are the main transport hubs throughout the continent. Having said that, the 6.45am Colombinio service left 30 mins late and what should have been a 10 hour journey morphed into 11½ hours and we arrived at the Medellin bus terminal at 6.10pm. The bus was comfortable enough with 'entertainments console' but not quite up to the standard of Argentine buses which have cabin crew and food/drinks on offer. There were a couple of pit-stops for food and loo.  Also, little communication. At the stops you had to keep a close eye on the driver and/or other passengers because the bus would happily drive off without any warning.
I was sitting next to a very charming young agronomist (I know what that is now) who was going to visit his mother-in law in a village up the hills near Medellin. He spoke excellent English and provided much humour and good advice. Thanks David, if you read this! We passed through some spectacularly beautiful and 'green' countryside; through mountain passes and across verdant valleys. Most impressive scenery, following for a time and crossing frequently the vast River Magdalena, which empties into the Caribbean further up north. Pity the bus windows were so dirty or I would have got some good photos! Actually, pics through bus windows when moving don't, with my little camera and skill, work very well.

Medellin (left), the second largest city in Colombia (pop 3m), is the capital of Antioquia province. It is situated in a long north-south valley at an elevation of 1500ft and surrounded by steep mountains.
In the 1980s to 90s it had the justifiable reputation of being the narcotics (cocaine) capital of the planet under the brutal 'leadership' of the mega-rich and powerful 'narco-emperor' Pablo Escobar, plus other cartels, amid much murder, bombings, corruption and almost outright civil war. Those days are long gone and the city is now very safe, well run and remarkably civilised; but, as always, its past reputation is still determinedly fixed in the minds of those who have not been there recently. More about Señor Escobar later. He deserves a seperate chapter!

Medellin consists of the main city and several what were seperate towns and villages to the south. They are all now, more of less, joined together and part of the Greater Medellin Conurbation, althought the old towns still have their own mayors and councils and statues of Simon Bolivar in their Plazas (but not Christopher Columbus). I was due to stay in the district of Poblado, just to the south of the main city.

The first thing that impressed me was the 'over-head' Metro system. I was rather dreading the thought of trying to  get to Poblado in the dark, not knowing the way, by either taxi or something resembling Bogota's awful Transmilenio.
Right: The new, modern, spacious, quiet (although sometimes crowded) and reliable 'sky-train' Metro was a breath of fresh air. Easy to understand the routes; there are two main ones, north-south and east-west, plus another diagonal one. Trains every 5 minutes and one from the bus terminal to Poblado (six stops). So simple, and cheap ($2300, 80¢, for one journey of any length). And, as I discovered, Uber work well here also.

I found very suitable and inexpensive accommodation in Poblado, the Hostel Tamarindo, with a comfortable and clean en-suite room. Fast Internet/wifi in any of these places, bars and restaurants is taken for granted; a big advance on what is, not always, on offer in UK.
I quickly discovered that Poblado is popular with back-packers and other tourists. It is humming in the evening with noisy bars, restaurants and night-clubs! Loud music everywhere. It is difficult, but not impossible, to find somewhere relatively quiet to sit and enjoy a meal. I found a very pleasant little 'quiet' Vietnamese establishment which I frequented . The area is undoubtedly 'trendy' and more of a youngsters' hang-out, but quite fun nevertheless.


The next day I went touristing. First to the Museo Casa de la Memoria which was advertised as a 'harrowing museum dedicated to the urban conflict in Medellin during the violent days'. Sounded fun.
Left: The museo. It looks like a military block-house and not far from the city centre. In fact it turned out to be rather boring. Nothing of much interest on display on two stories. There were life-sized videos of various people giving their recollections of the violent period, in Spanish with subtitles, and a 'mood room' where you could linger in the half-dark and gawp at photos of people who had been killed or 'disappeared' during the dark days. There was absolutely nothing inside worth taking a photo of, so I didn't. There was a pleasant little park outside leading down to a fast-flowing and pretty stream. It would have been a nice place to sit and rest if it hadn't obviously been an equally nice place for night-time courting couples to visit and leave their unspeakable detritus.

A pleasant stroll to the city centre along the various Carreras and Calles and I still haven't quite got the hang of the street designation system described previously. I use the sun so I know which direction I am heading. Most maps (that I am used to) are conventionally orientated with North to the top. For some reason, probably just to coincide with town dimensions, the Colombian maps do not follow this convention so it is sometimes misleading as to which way you should be facing.

Right: Even though a prosperous looking city there were quite few of these down-and-outs flaked out on the pavements.

Left: An interesting statue at one of the main city centre road intersections. Perhaps this is the statue 'In Honour of Pigeons' I was referring to earlier. There are no pigeons sitting on it; out of respect I suppose.

On to the centre and the Palacio de la Cultura Rafael Uribe Uribe (his name does have two Uribes). This striking black-and-white neo-Gothic edifice is a 1920s construction which houses art exhibitions. It was designed by a Belgian architect apparently. I didn't go in. 

Coincidently, or not, I have a contact in Bogota called 'Uribe Uribe'. He tells me that Rafael was a Great Uncle of his.

In the Plaza surrounding it were several Fernando Botero 'larger-than-life' bronze sculptures. There are many more all over the city. He must have been a very busy artist and I think his works are rather fun. Left, and below: A few examples.....

This one (left) closely resembles someone I know near where I live!

Right: A voluptuous reclining nude.

Left: This was entitled 'Adam and Eve'. You can probably just make out Adam's little willy. It  is polished shiny by people rubbing it! (for good luck?). Maybe it was once much larger. Click on to enlarge.

Right: 'Horse and Rider'. I think the rider is putting up a bit of over-weight! The wee horse is not exactly starving either, crushed by its rider..

Left: Yet another 'El Flako' plus guard dog. I was surprised to see so many, and they weren't even begging.

Right: Under the Parque Berrio Metro station. A large street market was setting up. The Metro runs above all this.

Next on, by Metro, to visit Cerro Nutibarra. This is a large hill in the centre-south of the city and prominent in guide books. It promised 'great views' of the city and has a 'city' museum at the summit. I consulted my map and got off at a Metro stop, Expositions, and it seemed a short walk to the base and steps up to the top. Having got off the Metro, I saw one sign telling me it was in the area. For the life of me I couldn't work out how to get there. No more signs and lots of roads between me and it. I asked for directions at a garage and of a couple of pedestrians. They didn't even seem to have heard of it! How weird. I have found it odd when asking directions here. I have very limited Spanish, and explain this by saying "No hablo Español" or similar words indicating "no comprendo". It doesn't stop them launching into a long and complicated explanation of which I "comprendo nada"! Why can't they just point? They must realise that they are wasting their breath, I would have thought.

I met up with an equally baffled couple from Spain who had experienced the same problem. Between us we found a gate (no signs) which led to a path and steep steps which took us to the summit. It was quite a sweaty trek. At the top are several cafés and this statue (left).
There is a large viewing area overlooking the city from which I took the photo (above). Not a bad vantage point.





Right: This view to the south-west features the airport. Poblado, where I was staying, is just to the left of the photo.












The 'city' museum consisted mainly of photos of famous Medellinians (or Medellionistas?) in various political, sporting and artistic spheres. Left: There is one photo, taken in the 1970s, featuring my now favourite artist Fernando Botero. He is the chap on the right.

Don't they all look very respectable? Haven't a clue who the other artists are. or were, because I wasn't interested.

After a much needed beer, or two, I set off down again. What I hadn't noticed on the way up was that there are several paths spreading out in all directions from the top. Of course I got lost and ended up scrambling down various muddy and slippery paths. I ended up in a circus which was performing near the bottom. A kind circus-hand pointed me in the direction of another Metro stop, Industriales, which, if I had known it, was closer to the hill I had just been up and only one stop from Poblado. I'll know next time.

More to follow from Medellin. So far it appears a much more up-market, organised, cleaner and user-friendly place than Bogota.

MORE BOGOTÁ

13th - 16th Nov 2018

A typical Fernando Botero painting

I spent the first three days traipsing from Zona Rosa (north) to La Candelaria (south-east) because this is the 'cultural' heart of the city and has the more interesting things to see. I have described the 'challenging' Transmilenio transport system to achieve this in the previous entry. I later, for my last two nights, moved to a rather whacky but amusing (cheap) hostel in La Candelaria.

On day 2 here I went to one of the many currency exchanges in La Candelaria. The Colombian Peso (COP) is abbreviated here by the symbol $, which I initially took for US$ which nearly gave me a heart attack. The US $ should have two vertical lines apparently (but my laptop only gives one). Most confusing. I shall use $ for COP from now on. Hope you catch on.
Good rate; $2990 for US$1 and got US$100's worth. I recalled with anguish the $2240 rate I got at the airport.  Extraordinary bureaucracy though. They not only wanted to see and photocopy my passport, but I had to fill in a form to give my home address, my e-mail address, where I was staying, where I was going, what I was going to spend the money on, where I got the money from, my job and maybe my inside leg measurement for all I remember (all of which I could have made up and they would be none the wiser). Not only that, I had to give a finger print! I carefully stowed the cash in a zip-up trouser pocket. More about that later.

The main square (left) is called Plaza de Bolivar after  the successful Venezuelan political and military power-merchant Símon Bolivar. By the way, I am now giving up putting all these Spanish ´accents above letters because it is a pain in the arse. Simon Bolivar's statues feature widely throughout the city (I counted at least four), as they do in many other South American countries. Indeed all towns in Colombia have a statue of him. This is because he was responsible for booting out the Spanish and giving these countries independence. Bolivia is named after him. I wonder why statues of Christopher Columbus are not more in evidence here. Presumably Colombia was named after him? In fact he was Christened 'Simon Jose Antonio de la Santisima Trinidad Bolivar Palacios Ponte y Blanco', which must have been a right bugger when filling in official forms asking for 'full name'. The square is obviously the place where pigeons hang out waiting for space to sit on statues. Maybe they have a roster...and people buy seed to feed the filthy creatures! So its a pigeon 'rest and refuelling' point.


Right: The Capitolio Nacional, Government ministries and Congress building, at the west end of the Square with the statue of Simon Bolivar in front with covered plinth and mandatory pigeon sitting on his head. There was, rather incongruously, a basketball court in front of the steps. As I gathered later it was only temporary











Left: ....and a yoga class being held on artificial grass at the other end. This too was temporary. I noticed that the square was host to various noisy musical and other entertainments from day to day.









Right: Carrera 7, the main shopping street in La Candelaria. Bogota and Medellin both have a street grid system. Carreras (avenues I presume) run north-south and are intersected by Calles (streets) running predominantly east-west. Few, if any, street names. Addresses (there are no house numbers) are designated by the street number followed by the Carrera number and the distance to the west of that Carrera intersection i.e. Calle 105 #5-55. Is that clear? I think I began to understand it but still got lost most of the time.




Left: Cerro de Monserrate is one of the peaks to the east of the city. There is a much visited church, something to do with the 'Fallen Christ', at the top; a Mecca for pilgrims. There are also restaurants, two rather smart ones, and good observation platforms. You can get up there either by funicular, cable car or walk up (a mere 1500 step hike). I expect the 'pilgrims' walk. I certainly didn't. The summit is at 10,341ft (from sea level) ie 1,681ft above the city. A popular tourist spot. Cable car and funicular terminal at bottom right of photo.



Right: Looking West over the city. I went up twice in fact because the first time I went too late in the day. The clouds had come down and the vis was not great. The weather here at this time of year follows a predictable pattern. Mornings are warm and sunny, clouds build up at midday onwards, rain late afternoon and then clear during the evening. First time by funicular; the cable car was out of action because they were decorating it with Christmas lights. Second time by cable car because they were decorating the funicular with Christmas lights! Cost $20,000 return (US$8 approx).


Left: The church at the top.

Right: Putting Christmas lights on the cable-car lines

Left: The peak next door, Cerro Guadalupe, at 10,879ft (from sea level).

Right: One of the terrace bars at the summit. Can't remember its name, but worth a visit if you're passing by.

Left: Lots of white and red poppies on display on the path back to the funicular.













Right: Coming down in the funicular.

It was on return from my second visit up the mountain (day 3, 14th Nov) that I had a bit of a drama. I had walked back to town from the cable-car terminal. It was a bit of a hike in warm weather and I was feeling somewhat in need of refreshment so I popped into a charming little bar/restaurant near La Candelaria. I ordered and received a beer and then noticed that a zip pocket of my trousers was open. It was where I had placed the cash (US$100 worth) the day before. I felt inside the pocket and it was empty. I felt a wave of sweaty anxiety. I searched through all other pockets. The dosh had disappeared! It had been nicked! Some little tow-rag had picked my pocket! It was a weird and upsetting feeling. Over the course of much travelling I have only once before been pickpocketed; that was in Oslo 6 years ago where a 'probable' Romanian brat had lifted a 'dummy' wallet out of my jacket pocket. It was of no value as I kept one there in case some bandit demanded money with menaces. This was the first time I had ever actually lost cash. I thought I was good at anti-pickpocket drills but must have become a bit blasé. It was upsetting for three main reasons. Firstly I had lost a considerable sum of money. Secondly, I could not remember when I last checked that pocket. Thirdly, I had no idea as to when or where it occurred. I suspect sometime on the dreadful crowded Transmilenio bus. Bloody annoying! OK, it was a wake-up call and, without becoming paranoid, I took much more care from then on. Any zip pocket with something valuable inside, I put a safety pin throught the zip to stop it being casually opened, and when travelling in crowded transport I kept my eyes and, where possible, hands on my 'significant' pockets and made sure I was aware of who was around me. It could have been worse. My passport and mobile were in another zipped pocket and the loss of them would have been one hell of a bigger disaster. C'est la vie.

Next on the agenda was a visit to the famous Museo del Oro, again in La Candelaria. This is a modern, large, magnificent and remarkable museum on three floors. It houses, mostly, gold artefacts (apparently over 55,000 in total) from many Andean tribes from 2000BC to 1600AD. It is an impressive, indeed staggering collection. Oh, and if you are over a certain age you get in free!

Left: One of many elaborately decorated gold outfits worn by a tribal leader. We think mainly of Aztecs and Incas etc., but there were hundreds of similar civilizations over that period of 3600 years, and all made elaborately decorated gold pieces.

Gold to these people represented the sun, and silver the moon. It was not considered a valuable material as such, but made into adornments and trinkets as symbols of religious (lots of shamans involved here) significance and tribal status.

It is extraordinary how much skill had gome into the manufacture of these pieces. These skills started from around 2000BC and remained rather similar up until the Spanish arrived in the 17th century AD. It was all technically brilliant.

There was a video shown to demonstrate the way the smelting, sculpting and decorating of these pieces was achieved. Lots of different processes  were involved, often requiring a high degree of chemistry and metallurgy. Quite extraordinary.

I wondered how the museum had managed to accumulate so much of the stuff. Or maybe they have a workshop out the back.

I could produce many more impressive photos of some jaw-dropping exhibits, but suggest you go and see for yourself!

A visit to the the Museo Botero, not far from Plaza de Bolivar, was interesting. I'd never heard of him before (being a cultural philistine) but Fernando Botero is a famous and incredibly prolific Colombian artist who specialises in creating large paintings and sculptures of people and animals in the 'fuller and rounded' form, i.e. fat. The museum contained maybe 50 or more of his paintings and sculptures. There are hundreds more positioned around the city and other sites in the country. He must be a very hard working, non-stop, artist. They are rather fun. He is still alive, aged 87, living and apparently still producing similar works, in Italy. He is probably now very wealthy and, in my opinion, deserves to be.

Left: A typical Botero painting. As is the one at the head of this page. There were loads of similar and, I thought, both skilfully done and amusing.

Right: One of his bronze sculptures. I was wondering how this exuberantly proportioned model had managed to get her right hand into such a strange position. Unless, I thought, some unfortunate person was trapped underneath her.

I added the rat, you will not be surprised to learn.

I'm sure Señor Botero would approve.

Left: This Botero sculpture was in the entrance hall.

Right: The museum featured some Picassos.

.........and a typically weird effort by Señor Salvadore Dali (left). 

The museum was spread over several buildings on two or three floors. It also included works by Chagall, Renoir, Monet, Pissaro plus other sculptures and paintings, so quite a large and eclectic collection.

I met a llama near the Plaza de Bolivar. I don't mind llamas; its alpacas that annoy me. Why? Because they have a silly supercilious look and spit a lot. I remember ladies dressed in colourful traditional costumes in Peru dragging them around the streets of Cusco and encouraging tourists to take a photo, for a price. I just felt like kicking the stupid animals up the arse.

My Spanish is almost negligible and when talking to this animal's handler I think I nearly managed to buy it by mistake.

Left: A very talented, if slightly unorthodox looking, violinist on Carrera 7. He really was very good and I stayed to listen for some time.

Right: Another statue of Simon Bolivar in a Plaza near Las Aguas Transmilenio station. This has a sculpted bird on top of the cupola and, of course, there is a pigeon sitting on the wing of the bird. I wonder if anyone has considered making a large statue of a pigeon, as a tribute to the interest pigeons show in statues.

On Thursday 16th there were due to be major student demos throughout the city (complaining about lack of government funds of course). The police anti-riot squads were out in strength and readiness, roads had been cordoned off and most of the public building façades, and  statues, were covered in black protective netting (quite a task). Police and army were in evidence everywhere and the centre was eerily free of the usual crowds. Great! I thought; the opportunity for some interesting photos of revolting students plus a few baton charges.

Left: One of the many riot squads in waiting.

I had already encountered a problem. The dreaded Transmilenio taking me to the centre that morning was stopped at a station called Jimenez due to a precautionary road block. A professional looking chap standing next to me, realising I was a confused Gringo, told me that we had to get off and walk. It was only about 800yds to the centre but it was through a few dangerous streets, he said. The surrounding streets did look a bit ominous and I was carrying all my possessions plus suitcase because that day I was moving accommodation to the centre. A good target! This guy, a barrister as it turned out and who was running late for a court case, said to follow and keep close. We set off at a good pace and, apart from attracting some curious looks, made it to safety without incident. I was grateful for his help, as I was  on several other occasions to locals.

What a disappointing anti-climax it turned out to be! The main shopping street (Avenue 7) and the Square remained almost totally deserted, apart from a handful of, presumably, students shouting rather forlornly at the Government buildings, and the police. There may have been action elsewhere in the city but sadly I never saw any.

I was due to go out to dinner that evening with a friend working in Bogata. I would have to get the rush hour Transmilenio up north again to meet him. I was rather dreading it. As it turned out, presumably because everyone had taken the day off work due to impending riots, it was relatively empty and I even managed to get a seat. I got to the restaurant early and relaxed. I took a Uber taxi back; not chancing my hand too often in one day. BTW, these Uber taxis are so good, and cheap, and reliable.

I think that is enough from Bogota. Probably missed out on a few things, but now preparing to set off, by bus, to the charming city of Medellin.

Simon de Bolivar circa 1880