More of Bogota

Bogota is a truly remarkable place.

The backdrop of the entire city is a mesmerising vista of lush green rolling hills, where anything could be waiting to be discovered, uncovered or indeed actually hiding from the truth.

The streets are a mix of modern shops, broken down apartment blocks and bulldozed rubble arenas just waiting to decide what they are going to be in future.

Yellow cabs are flying down the streets in all directions, unless they are hovering outside a nearby hotel or shopping complex.

Uniformed security guards patrol the most populated parts, although their age ranges from as young as late teens to, I would judge by my eye, around the 70 mark. How a 70 year old would be bale to chase down or fire straight and true at a fleeing criminal I have my doubts, but still it is mildly reassuring that they were there.

During June the daylight streams in through the cracks in the curtain as early as 4am, and as soon as the dawn comes so does the heavy traffic, and its at times like these that I wished the hotels all had double glazing, as the noise still sounds so close that it could be right in the hallway.

But the most remarkable sound I hear each day, to my western ears at least, is the genuine steam locomotives that chug their was through the city bringing the tourists and the workers to their destinations at all times of day.

The night time comes too early in June, and by 5pm it is getting dark and with the high hills surrounding the city it does not take long for darkness to descend and engulf the entire city before your eyes.

I am not sure if soup is a hotel speciality or a national breakfast dish, but I am enjoying the food here as much as anywhere else in the world. Sure their burgers could do with a makeover, but the pasta carbonara that I had yesterday was simply irresistible and it was only through a great force of will that I did not immediately insist on seconds of this superb dish.

The people here in the hotel, the shopping complex and the taxis all seem to be both friendly and able to speak maybe a few basic words in English, but not enough for full conversation, which has left me bored to tears lacking in decent conversation as my Spanish is little better than their English. However, having said that, I have not had any problems in making myself understood and even got complimented for my accent yesterday, so that is some achievement I suppose.

The weather here is meant to be cloudy and thunder storms this week, so I cannot blame the fact that I have zero chance of getting a tan, but that is another thing about the locals, many are barely darker than I am, and certainly I would never call myself tanned or olive skinned.

So many preconceptions are being revised in my mind, save a few that remain very stereotypical and genuine in the same breath.

The Colombians love their food, their wine, their football and have a wonderful fluent and sexy accent to their words, much more than the Spanish I have met, so perhaps this is South American influence, but whatever it is, I like it.

Sadly I have had no news from any of my Colombian friends or from the airport about my lost luggage, so I am still at a loss for what to do today and boredom will again have me leaving my hotel in search of something, anything, to feel alive. Today I might try and find a salon and get my haircut ... who knows, it could be worse!