They immediately (and without any additional fees) booked me on the flight on Saturday. I still spent an hour or two at the airport trying to figure out if I could get to Bogota any time earlier, but getting to BWI in less than two hours (and for an extra $500) just wasn't going to be in the cards.
My trip to visit Mark was already a pretty short one, so 24 hours off a 54 hour trip left me with 30 hours in Bogota!
You know I was at the airport two hours before the flight on Saturday. (I did enjoy a good evening with my grandparents, and took them out for breakfast on Saturday.)
Beside the 30-person mission trip also checking in (and corralling a bunch of extra bags), I got to the gate (almost) smoothly. Turns out Terminal D and Terminal B aren't quite the same. Guess being early pays!
Avianca (except for that counter thing) is a good carrier. Hot food, good movie selection, the same amount of legroom - the five and a half hour flight was pretty easy.
Mark met me at arrivals (though the free internet at the airport meant we had a back-up plan). The driver met us, and we smoothly made it back to his apartment. I hear there's lots of traffic in Bogota, but I managed to miss it all!
After the tour of his place (a two-story condo, with his master suite and three other bedrooms on the top floor), we headed out for drinks and nibbles. We started at "Apache", a recommendation from a friend of a friend, but it was too loud for us and we didn't see the lounge area until we were leaving. We ended up at Bogota Beer Company, sitting outside in the 60-degree evening chill with some heaters keeping it nice. Mark tried the flight of all their beers while I kept it simple with a nice wheat beer. Oh, and the nachos. So Colombian.
Given that we left the airport at 9:30, it was time for bed after that. But I got to see one area near his place!
I'll be honest with my preconceptions - I was expecting to be able to tell the difference between Colombians and non-Colombians. However, they are as varied as anywhere, especially in the heart of a upper class metropolitan district.
The blackout curtains at Mark's place made for a laid back morning. He had gone on a grocery adventure on Saturday and brought back fruits that I hadn't heard of - specifically, a soursop and "lulo". Neither of those were quite ripe, so two fruits that were naturally a little bitter or sour were even more so. The dragonfruit, however, was like the best, creamiest kiwi ever. And Mark did know how to check if the avocados were ripe, so those were amazing.
We "hailed" an Uber - the recommended way to travel according to Mark's contacts - and headed to Monserrate. This small collection of buildings perched atop one of the mountaintops surrounding Bogota is the recommended place to go. And Sundays, it is half price! ($3.50 to hardly $2 is a steal!)
Our driver had great English - we learned that he had spent 28 years in the US! He told us about San Francisco hummingbird sanctuary, which was an hour from the city (and where his sister lives) and Caño Cristal. Apparently Jackie Onassis frequented this natural park with rainbow algae blooms. Not easy to get to, but sounds gorgeous!
We avoided a few roads because of "ciclovía", or "bikeway." Sunday and holidays in Bogota, roads are partially or completely blocked off to give cyclists wonderful paths throughout the city. There were all ages, all stages; I loved the atmosphere, and definitely want to come back for another Sunday to experience it as a cyclist.
After getting his number for future trips during dropoff, we found a line and started standing. I was very impressed with the efficiency of Bogota - not something I expect outside of the US. However, the attendant recommended that one person goes to buy the tickets while the other people stay in line. It worked well for Mark and I. And the people-watching while in line!
First, the hawkers that were alongside the line. There was cotton candy ("not sure what I expected, but it wasn't cotton candy" -Mark), ice cream, roasted corn, water and juice, as well as hats and umbrellas. At this altitude, there's not much between you and the sun!
Next, there was a llama. I believe it was just for photographs, since the trail up the mountain was closed.
Finally, the cars and traffic. A taxi was picking someone up, and the driver two cars behind was laying on the horn. The car in the middle parked, then got out to give the honker a piece of his mind. Fascinating. Motorcycles buzzed by (one with a mini-skirted passenger - answered my question about how conservatively to dress), and only a few police or ambulances came during our 30-minute wait to get on the funicular.
Both a funicular and a cable car climb up the mountainside to 3100 meters above sea level. If I wasn't feeling the altitude before the ride, I definitely was after! (There was a little breathlessness while talking and walking quickly on Saturday night, and not the most restful sleep I've ever gotten, but no headache or constant aches over the weekend.) The ride itself was dizzying - climbing 40 degrees up a hill while your feet remain parallel is a mind trip.
Speaking of that hummingbird sanctuary (a few paragraphs ago, but whatever), we saw one in the flowers while we were waiting for our train car! The entire area was manicured and had gorgeous jungle flowers (salvia, roses, bell-shaped, trumpet-shaped).
Once the train had climbed through the tunnel at the end of its tracks, we emerged to a hill up to the cathedral - probably the reason it is cheaper on Sundays.
We made it fifty feet up the hill before heading into the first restaurant we found - both of us out of breath, Mark with other needs as well. We were seated by the windows overlooking the green hillside and Bogota below. It was a bit hazy, so we could just barely see the end of the city but couldn't see the matching mountains on the other side of the valley that Bogota inhabits.
The rustic restaurant - classically painted white with wood-carved details on the outside - was so beautiful. We had a relaxing lunch of soups, arepas, grilled pork, and a variety of veggie dishes (including some great fried plantain with guac). Their guacamole has more lime or other liquid than the avocado-heavy versions we're used to back home, but the always-fresh taste makes up for the texture.
It was sometime around 2:30 when, now fortified (or weighed down) with lunch, we started the trek up the hill. The Tanzanian suggestion of "po-lee po-lee" (slowly, slowly) worked in South America just as well as in Africa. We had plenty to take pictures of; opposite Bogota, on the other side of the hill crest, were more green slopes that peaked onto mountains. We'd found the Andes.
The stone paths, gardens, white-washed buildings, and a mossy cross sculpture/waterfall made the New World of Bogota seem very Old World. I loved it.
Passing the other two restaurants, and the bronze stations of the cross sculptures, we made it to the sweeping stairs in front of the cathedral. A service was ending, so we popped in through a side door to see a mildly interesting church. The gasping Jesus with blood running from his side beyond the pulpit was the most intricate "decoration." The wooden columns and glass chandeliers added a bit of grandeur to the slightly bland interior.
There was more path, and an arrow to the shrine of the Fallen Lord, or the Lord of Monserrate. We continued past stalls selling floor-to-ceiling worth of trinkets, teas (most with coca leaves - watch out for that one), and religious symbols. We diverted from the stalls when we saw a break in the cobbled-together building and headed further uphill.
Not much more to see up there, and never did find the shrine. There was a herd of horses being led around with visitors on their backs, and couples from teens to three generations in with picnics on the stumps on the slope.
We walked back through the gauntlet of cafeterias trying to convince us that we needed the potatoes, chicken, corn, or all of the above that they were selling.
With the sky darkening and the blood sugar lowering, it was time to get in line to leave the mountain. Since we took the funicular up, it seemed only right to take the cable car down.
We were in line for an hour. A little brother and sister were harassing each other in front of us; the sky continued to pulse back and forth between ominous and just dark, but the rain held off.
The cable car was stuffed full. Mark and I were among the first half in, and I thought we had good positioning one row back from the glass, until woman "momma bear"ed herself and her 14-month-old in a pouch in front of me. Mark was the counterweight to her and her leaning, but it was really her topknot ending up in my mouth that I was most displeased with. Needless to say, just take the transportation type up or down that is the fastest - the best views are on the top of Monserrate anyway. (There was one ting stomach-drop right as we pulled away from the platform, but not worth the extra 30 minutes in line.) As I told Mark, our wait was for research purposes. Now he won't have to decide next time!
We reached the bottom, and the morning crowd had cleared. A line of taxis waited, but we still preferred waiting for an Uber. Mark's personal phone wasn't connecting to the network, but his work phone didn't have Uber, so we overcomplicated things with a work-phone-hotspot for personal-phone-wifi that got us the result we wanted.
The sun was still up, so time to continue adventuring! There was a pedestrian area suggested to us in the vicinity of the Gold Museum (which will get saved for another trip, or for Mark to investigate later, since it was closed anyway), so we walked toward the "Cathedral Principale" amid street performers and buskers of all sorts. Spraypaint art, Minion costume, breakdancers, balloons, tea, flowers, and more.
We circled back when the cathedral was pretty, but mostly a dead end. More performances awaited, with some great people-watching. Parents had rigged a tricycle up with a child-sized car to form a rope-pulled caravan. Dogs were all over; most of the large ones had muzzles, whether from cultural norm or law, I'm not sure.
We were ready to rest our feet when a broad avenue crossed the pedestrian path we'd been on. The fast food shops gave way to a bar/cafe where I got brave and ordered off-menu. They did understand what "chocolate calliente" was, though didn't understand that I wanted the Bailey's in with the hot cocoa. It was an easy fix. Mark's frappe was frozen (during which we realized that we don't know most fancy espresso/coffee drink names), which started to match the chill in the air on the balcony as the sun went down.
I wanted to see another few blocks of the pedestrian path, but the dusky light (and the knowledge that we were headed toward the sketchier end of town) had us turning back and taking an Uber back to the apartment.
I finally met Mark's flat mates/coworkers, and we tried a few restaurants (a trio all in the same area were closed) before trying our luck at what looked like a very busy Di Lucca. The Italian place was hopping, but we got a table after only a 5-10 minute wait! And during that wait, we saw the procession of plates from the kitchen, so I was excited.
Wine, pasta, dessert, and learning about how Mark's coworkers ended up on Colombia was a wonderful final evening to my abbreviated trip. We walked through the parks on the way back, and the fairly empty streets (since it is just an American holiday tomorrow), and - despite the big talk about playing a board game - went to bed.
It was a 4am wake up call, and a 4:30 ride to the airport with Mark's regular driver, Jose. They talked in a smattering of English and Spanish (I think Jose enjoys making Mark work for his Spanish, so doesn't use his pretty good English around him) on the smooth, traffic-less drive to the airport, and I was at the gate in less than 20 minutes.
I'm excited to sleep on my flight back, and already planning my next trip to a city I fell in love with immediately! (It only slightly helps that a guy I'm in love with is here too.) Bogota, hasta luego!
