We all stood outside the hotel at 9am, expectantly waiting for our city tour guide to arrive, for about 15 minutes before realising that no one had actually booked one.
Reconvening for the afternoon, one of our number went in search of insoles whilst the better organised amongst us decided to climb to the church on the mountain overlooking the city. Setting off ready for a huge hike we were quite relieved to find a funicular ferrying church goers up and down the near vertical slope. A short ride later (where we stood at the front and pretended to be driving) we reached the top and the amazing views over the whole city. Bogotá is home to 10 million people, ranking it alongside cities like San Francisco and Buenos Aires, and from the top of the mountain it was possible to see all the way to the suburbs some 8 or 9km distant.
After we’d made our way down the mountain and visited a Turkish restaurant for some falafels we got back to the hotel to wait for the guide again. Fifteen minutes late someone grumbled loudly “Where’s the stupid guide” to which we accurately replied “She’s behind you”. Luckily she didn’t hear and we set off on a 4 hour walking tour. It transpired that despite us always turning right out of the hotel towards all the shops and restaurants the really nice part of town was up the hill to the left. This old town was full of cafes, theatres and museums so we started with an exhibition dedication to the most famous artist in Colombia: Fernando Botero. Our guide was very knowledgeable and explained the subtleties of the paintings that I always miss. Attached to the gallery was the Mint, where the countries coins are produced. It was the only place in town with English translations so we had a look round but it was essentially a collection of very similar gold coins.
Also in the old town was the presidential palace, and we were fortunate enough to see the changing of the guard. Unlike Buckingham Palace this was a rather haphazard affair with soldiers milling about until someone got them into two rag-tag lines and they set off marching down the street. I would love to have taken a video of the marching style but cameras weren’t allowed. The presidential guards in blue were at least marching in a straight line, but those in green took four steps, waved their right leg in the air twice, slung it across their left and then moved their left to the outside, moving them one pace to the left. This meant that as they advanced down the street they slowly moved to the outer width of the street then had to reverse the motion and swing to the right. They overdid this and the two lines bumped into each other, with one dropping his rifle. The soldiers in blue looked on in utter disdain.
Leaving them behind to sort themselves out we walked along the street until we were distracted by the sound of a party from a doorway to our right. Dozens of people wearing pashminas and cravats sat at empty tables, watching a motionless band. Eventually someone wandered over and introduced herself as the director of the National Opera House, and explained that this was a Christmas party for all the staff, except the drink hadn’t arrived, the food wasn’t ready and the band were missing a couple of members so refused to start. Other than that everything was perfect and she was glad of someone to talk to that wasn’t stressed out.
A few more churches and museums later we stopped in the oldest coffee shop in Bogotá for a drink and some cake. The others stuck to the usual fare but I went for the Bogotá speciality – hot chocolate and cheese.
A cup of thick hot chocolate arrives with a hunk of cheese and some buttered bread. The cheese is broken into three and dropped into the chocolate, then melts slightly and makes it exceedingly creamy. The cheese is then eaten with a spoon and the bread used to soak up the chocolate, with a cheese roll to cleanse the palette. It was worth trying but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it all tasted unexpectedly of Bovril.
