Leaving Bogota and a Day in Santa Marta, Colombia

I didn't realise that Bogota had a main airport but had seperate terminals for domestic flights, and this was something that I wish I had known before I booked a flight leaving at 07:25 in the morning.

Waking up extra early to finish getting packed was something that I did not relish, and the fact that I had to check out and grab a taxi to the airport for 06:00 in order to catch a flight that I had booked while on the road so had no paperwork to back up meant that I was in no mans land when I arrived at the airport.

I was shocked when I checked out to see that I was charged 60,000 pesos for having my laundry done, which is around £15 and so is by far the most expensivest laundry cost I have ever experienced and had I known I would have preferred to do it myself by hand.

On the way to the airport I noticed that there were a number of large and newly build hotels towards the outskirts of the city, all expensive looking and I guess that the reason why they are so far away for the city centre is that there is no room in the centre to have such large buildings built, or else they would have to make a few roads into dead ends.

Looking up at the board showing leaving flights I was confused and dismayed to see that I could not spot any going to Santa Marta, so in the middle of the main terminal I had to get out my laptop and open up the email to get the directions and the take a photo with my camera to store it as proof of purchase.

Once I had this I went to the Avianca check in desk, only to be told that Avianca have another, smaller, terminal outside that was a ten minute walk or a taxi ride away.

I headed outside to grab a taxi but the first one I tried had no idea of another airport nearby and so I had to get out again and return to the check in desk to get them to write out the full details for me. This time they sent me around the corner where after a wait of half an hour I was able to check in but only enough to get a boarding ticket where she wrote the name of the other terminal across the top and then again suggested I take a taxi.

This time the taxi driver understood better my directions, and took me to the other terminal that was just up the road, but due to illogical roads and one ways I felt that I travelled half way back to Bogota before I reached a round about and managed to head back toward the airport but on a slightly different angle and took a siding just before the main entrance.

I feel a tiny bit angry that I told the first taxi driver that I was going to Santa Marta and he still took me to the main terminal, despite Avianca not flying to Santa Marta from that terminal, but then maybe I didn't tell him I was flying Aviance or maybe he didn't know that they didn't, but a 20 mil pesos ride followed by a 6 mil pesos ride all mounts up and I can see that too many innocent mistakes her ein Bogota could end up as expensive as anywhere else in the world.

Arriving at the other terminal I managed to check in my bag and as the time was ticking by I had no delay or time wasted in the departure lounge as my flight was boarding before I reached it, so I just had to clear security, and then get right on the plane.

For the second time this epic voyage I was asked to switch seats to one next to an emergency exit, so either it is random luck hitting me twice or the fact that maybe I have a trusting and safe face! The flight was almost over before it had begun as I was still tired from the early wake up and so I slept most of it and didnt even need to get out my ear plugs or face mask I was that close to sleep.

Arriving in Santa Marta I felt the heat and humidity the second the doors opened and I was already dripping before I got my bags. Looking our the window of the airport I could see the Caribbean ocean, and it looked clear, blue and peaceful.

Much like the outskirts of Bogota, the road from the airport to the city centre was littered with a sprinkling of very pricey hotels all on their own, and I was glad in a way that I was in the city centre as that way the prices should not be too much.

The taxi driver didn't know my hostel, but as its entrance was on a small backstreet I am not surprised, and the look of the hostel was the sterotypical image of a cheap south american hotel, with the flaking paint, the 50's wooden furniture, flies lazily buzzing around and fans the size of trash can lids everywhere trying to beat the breeze.

My room was up a circular creaking stairway, just past the ill lit kitchen, and although I was there slightly later than planned I still had to help the porter make my bed in order for me to crash.

Unpacking my laptop I contact my friend here, who was online yet for some reason despite it being a weekend and her having no work or children to look after she made her excused and apologised for not being able to meet me today, which was just not what I wanted to hear.

Logging off I decided to dose up on anti sun cream and then take a walk around the city centre, in the hope of finding a post office and be able to send home the much reduced, smaller and lighter package home, yet the hostel did not have a map ( other than showing me am old and heavily creased one that stuck to a wall with aging sellotape ) so the walk was largely fruitless. In random luck I went in the opposite direction from the beach, but I did get to walk past a few bars and the nearby Cathedral.

The heat was so hot that even with shorts and sandals I was roasted in no time at all, my suncream dripping off me in buckets and I could tell that I was getting a headache even before my eyes started stinging with the cream running into my eyes.

Unable to find anything to do and no escape from the heat, so I headed back to my hostel where I grabbed a bottle of local pop juice before retreating to my fan assisted bedroom and did my best to sleep and catch up on emails as well as book another hostel in Cartagena for tomorrow morning as already I could tell that this place was not for me.

After a sleep I found a restaruant that was nearby, where for 18 mil pesos I was given a couple more pretend bananas, a pepsi with ice and the largest plate of rice and chicken I have ever seen, it even made the one in Piura seem small by comparison, which is a scary thought in itself.

As it ws the only thing I had to eat all day I devoured a large chunk of it, but it was a little too salty and too had an aftertaste that meant I needed to drown every other mouthful with a glug of pepsi, and the plate was much larger than the glass so before too long I could not take another mouthful without washing away the taste of the last, so gave up and went back to my hotel.

I tried to watch a bit of television as by now the sun had gone down, the rain had started and this in turn increased to a tropcal storm where the thunder was so frequent that I could not tell when one ended and the other began and where so much lightening was flashing that I was lit up like a firework party. I watched a few things, but the reception got worse and soon each flash of lightening was knocking out the signal for a few seconds and before too long I was missing more than I was watching, so despite it being very early I grabbed my ear plugs, switched on the fan to blow the mosquitos away and dove under a thin sheet to try and get some sleep.

The last thing that I remember watching was a program about the American film instutitude saying that the top ten films were of each category and was shocked that although I think of myself as a bit of an amateur film buff I had not even seen half of the sci-fi films and when it came to comedies or epics I was down to 3 in 10.

TomorrowI will try to get up early, to get myself all up to date and then swing by the beack before I check out and head on off to the bus terminal and go to Cartagena.

A final day in Bogota

After a few days in Bogota I had run out of ideas of places near my city that I really wanted to visit, so it was almost a relief when the rains really started to come down as it gave me an excuse to stay in the hotel and start to plan the next few steps in Central America.

First off is after talking to the Brits the other day I decided that I really didn't want to copy their exploits of doing 5 countries in 3 days and seeing nothing but buses, pit stop cafes and border check points, so I had to call the airline and move forward my flight from Cartagena to Panama forward by one day, and also shift the other locations around a bit so that I have at least a full day in each city either side of a bit of travelling in order to see some things.

I am still a little miffed at myself for not researching more of Central America, as if I had I am sure that I would have scheduled in a few days in Belize where I could have a chance to speak a bit of English and enjoy some of the best beaches for miles.

That managed to take me up to about lunchtime and then as I was hungry and the rain had let up, and I felt that I had not really seen much of the city, I took a little walk to the autobus stops and went for a mini tour of the north of the city. On the way to the bus stop I passed a huge rally, and I was reminded by what my friends here had told me that there seemed to be one demonstration or another every couple of weeks.

No sooner did I get up town when the rain started up again, and with a vengeance, so before many minutes I felt that without an umbrella I was just going to get wet fast so I came back, however this proved to be a bit more problematic that I expected.

I had not really stopeed to pay attention to what bus I was getting on or study the route maps in advance, and just guessed that as Bogota is a long and thin city and all the buses seemed to run along the same secluded road that any bus would be as good as each other, as long as they were going in the right direction. Right idea, piss poor execition as I managed to somehow fine one of the few buses that not only didnt have a LED display saying where it was going but also seemed to be a non stopping service and I had to stare in frustration and dispair as it reached my stop, passed it and then kept on going so far that it even started going round a corner at the end of the city.

Luckily the exit and entrance to the buses meant that I could just hop out when it did finally stop, cross over and then take one back and my logic was that I would not wait for it to recah my exact stop but hop off when it got anywhere close to my neck of the city.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me, as I did exactly what I had done to get there, hopped on another non stopping bus and ended up right back to where I started. Twice bitten, three times shy, I learned my lesson, asked for a map and as they didnt have one to give me I just spend a good five minutes studying the routes on the bus stop walls before getting on the correct one that would stop exactly where I needed it, except it was packed tighter than a tin or sardines.

I got back at about 3pm, and it was the same old curse of the afternoon siesta as I was unable to find a sensible restaurant open, even the one in the hotel was closed, so I walked back to the main street, took a right and just continued on til I found one that served food I recognised and liked or til I ran out of city. As it turned out I found another chicken broaster type place, which did a meal combo for 7,500 mil pesos,

On the way back from the burger I spotted a fight break out between two guys, and was both surprised and alarmed that all the locals not only stood and watched, but cheered and whistled to attract others and soon a huge mob was around the two guys until eventually a couple of policeman arrived and then all of a sudden one wanted to flee while the other wanted the cops, and all the while the crowd continued to whistle.

Back in my hotel I only had a short time til C' arrived as we were due to go out clubbing, however with the rain starting up again and the fact that the chicken burger was only a light snack I convinced her that we should just stay in the relative safety and dryness of the hotel, order in an Indian meal as she had never tasted one before. Yet again this proved nigh impossible, as there were only a couple of places in the yellow pages that were Indian Restuarants and they all required you to place an order a day or two in advance, thus we were stumped for time and instead we plumped for a Chinese.

My flight for Santa Marta was due to leave at 07:25 so I needed an early night and had most of my things packed or as close to being packed as possible and after setting all the alarms I could I crashed asleep and hoped that I would be able to wake the next day.

A third day in Bogota and a visit to Zipaquira

I awoke early enough to get a good start to visit the Salt Cathedral at Zipaquira, after grabbing a fast breakfast and then asking the receptionist to write out the directions I would need to navigate myself to the town of Zipaquira.

I walked to the Gold Museum and after asking for directions from a couple of armed soldiers that were patrolling and not doing much, and then grabbed two tickets ( in order to save time and not need to queue up for a return ticket ) and was glad that the price of the bus being still a fixed 1,500 mil pesos each way despite going right to the end of the line. A Further 1,300 mil pesos was needed for the onward bus from Porta Norte to Zipaquira, and on the way I got chatting to a small group of American and Canadian tourists who were newly arrived in the city and the first place that they were heading for was the Salt Cathedral.

Being French Canadian they could speak English and French, and a couple of them could speak a little Spanish, so together we figured that as a group we stood a good chance of getting there and back in one peice.

I suggested that we stopped off for a quick snack before we headed on up to the cathedral and the museum, and I was glad that I did as we ended up spending about 4 hours in total and after the bus journey I could already tell that my breakfast was wearing off.

The route to the Cathedral from the bus drop off point was due north west through the old historical town centre, and we passed a plaza that was not unlike those in Peru or Spain, and it was here that we took a few group photos before through some luck and directions from the local townsfolk we found the entrance at the bottom of the hill.

Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, we checked the sign boards then followed the white painted line on the ground up the hill, covering around a few hundred meters and a few hundred steps, and yet we were no higher than when we left Bogota, being only around 8,000 and something feet above sea level and only around 38 miles from their hotel as the crow flies.

First off we had to navigate the ticket booth, which surprise surprise only spoke Spanish, and we had to try and get senior ticket discounts, an English speaking guide and try to make sure that everyone paid about the right amount as we were getting a group booking. With the entrance to the museum, the cathedral and the archaeological museum down the bottom of the hill, and guide, it cost around 22,000 mil pesos, but I am now debating if the guide price was worth it as others seemed to come with us and we doubted if they also paid for a english speaking tour guide.

In 2007 the salt Cathedral in Zipaquira was declared the first wonder of Colombia, so it promised to be a lot to live up to, and I am happy to say that it passed with flying colours.

The original Cathedral was built underground about 60 years ago, but at the time not enough thought was given to the supporting the roof and walls and so by 1990 it was closed down due to safety fears and a new cathedral was ordered to be cen reated and after a short competition to see which of the leading Architects of the time was up to the job, a new Cathedral was begunand by 1995 it was completed.

The place was very dark, as you might expect being underground, and yet they were very clever with the use of back strip lighting, floor lighting and coloured lights to give the cathedral a unique feel.

The place holds mass every sunday for tourists, who still have to pay the entrance fee regardless, and is infrequently also used for wedding and other special occasions, as well as music concerts with the acoustics being perfect for hyms and opera.

For such a relatively new building it had a lot of history and the museum had information dating right back to the colonial days and the trading of salt giving us the word for Salary.

Just outside the cathedral entrances we noticed a maze for the kids, and a round shallow amphitheatre, so the area probably also holds outdoor festivals and shows as well.

Afterward we swung round the musem at the bottom of the hill, before grabbing a bite to eat and then catching the bus just as it was leaving the town to return to Bogota, in typical fashion setting off before the last of us was even properly on the bus let alone in our seats.

Back in Bogota central it was raining hard, but knowing how difficult it was to catch a taxi at this time of day I chose to run all the way to the cinema where I was meeting up with C' rather, who had actually arrived half an hour early at our rendezvous point, which caught me out, but in return I bought her a coffee to warm her up before the film, my second viewing of Quantum of Solice, but there was not much else on to watch and I did want to watch a cinema flick here.

Apparently there are more than one hotel in the city centre with the same name, and once we left the cinema at first the taxi driver set off in the wrong direction, although I am half thinking that this was a scam as we were being charged by the meter and at a night rate, so I would suggest always taking the full directions for your hotel and showing that whenever you get in a taxi here, just in case.

Bogota Archaelogical Museum - Photos

Salt Cathedral - Photos

Another day in Bogota

I woke up at a sensible time, but allowed myself a long and lazy morning by just loafing around my hotel room and catching up with a few unreplied email.

After a nice stroll down the main high street and snapping a few photos, I spotted an rare sight of an adult cinema, and I couldn't remember the last time I saw one still open, so when I returned later to my hotel I researched it and it turns out to be the last remaining cinema of its kind in the city, as over the last decade the numbers are down from over 300 per day to less than ten, all thanks to the wonders of the internet so the owner claims.

I continued along the road and found lots of cheap restaurants, a few billiard halls and a lot of smaller shops before I reached the National musuem and the city Bullfighting ring, both great examples of architecture.

I didn't think that I had enough time to go round the entire National Museum, so I just took a few photos and then walked the long route back to the fornicular station at the base of Cerro de Monserrate. The walk lasted about an hour and on the way I stopped to get a burger and coke, only for the waitress to have a sudden bought of confusion and served me a burger and a raspberry smoothie, no idea how she got coca cola and whatever the Spanish for fresh fruit smoothie is !?!

The fornicluar entrance is just behind one of the cities Universities and up the road a bit, and as chance would have it I shared the cabin with two west London lads that were doing their own whistlestop tour of Central and South America and were even staying in the same hostel that I had been recommended to stay in whilst lodging in Manizales.

The view from the top was fantastic, the inside of the church was great and for a change I even managed to take a good photo of the inside without it coming out all blurred and fuzzy.

After a bit of a chit chat we ended up sitting at the top, taking snaps and swapping travel stories and they suggested that I give myself a few days to relax in Belize, visit the Mayan temples and enjoy that fact that plenty of people there talk English as it used to be a British colony for over a hundred years.

Once we finished a couple of beers we made out way back down, after both expressing an interest in visiting the Salt Church at Zipaquira and so we might catch up again the following morning.