Bogota, 23-25 November, 2009

Okay, we’re in Bogota, Columbia as of 10pm, 23 November, 2009. We had uneventful flights and interactions with customs and immigration. Well, okay, as we made final approach into Bogota, lightening was flashing about us and we could occasionally hear the thunder over the roar of the planes’ engines. One small portion of our adventure to ride our Kawasaki KLR650 motorcycles down the Pan American Highway to the tip of South America and on to Buenos Aires was complete.

Outside the terminal, we weaved our way through the gauntlet of unofficial taxi drivers who instantly made us as foreigners and tried to guide us to their cars. We wanted the official taxis. We found one straight away and hopped in. Kathleen’s years of studying Spanish was instantly put to the test. She’d been readin’ and writin’. . . now came the speakin’. Frankly, I was quite excited with her prowess as Kathleen and Javier, our cabby, chatted back and forth. As long as he kept his discussion slow and without slang, Kathleen was able to keep up. I was even able to follow in a few places. Few, oh so very few. Okay, I hadn’t much of a clue most of the time.

I believe Javier was part chameleon because he whizzed through traffic and weaved among construction barriers while looking back at us. This could only be done with eyes, like those lizards, that operated independent of each other. Javier described to us the buildings we could see in the dark, and told us of places to visit. Along our way, he stopped in the street and we got out to look at the illuminated church on Monserrate, and Guadalupe’ on Cerro de Guadalupe’.

The roads of Bogota’ seemed to be a mixed maze of major thoroughfares combined with narrow streets that Kathleen and I would consider alleys. And many of these are one-way alleys. Javier threaded his way among these routes and eventually we arrived at one of a zillion intersections where he looked about and pointed to our hotel. Casa Deco in the Candelaria District which is the original part of Bogota’ since the 1500’s. We had driven nearly across a city of 8-million people; through a ganglion of streets and express-ways; and arrive at an unassuming junction of two alleys where Javier points to our hotel. We paid off Javier using a U.S. twenty dollar bill (later reading that we may have over-paid him by twice), and checked into our hotel about 11pm.

The next morning, 24 November, we both slept-in. Our bio-clocks were set to Pacific time. Columbia is three hours ahead. During the night we could hear considerable traffic, people, and music. This din kept up until about 2am and started again about 5:30am in earnest. This could be a problem.

Our room was a nice space with hardwood floors and a simple décor. Works for us. We had a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs with tomato, and a couple glasses of puréed papaya and banana. The hotel clerk, Palo (originally from Italy), also acted as the concierge and waiter. He spoke good English and soon began to tell us of places to go see. We ended up on the patio on the roof of the hotel receiving a block on instruction on how to orient ourselves in Bogota. With your back to Guadalupe, left is south, right is north.

Since our motorcycles were to arrive in a few days, we decided to tour about Bogota. We headed out about 11:30am for the aerial tram to that would take us to the church on Monserrat. We walked towards the mountains and soon came to the tram way. We had a choice of using the cable gondola or the rail tram. The rail tram was not working. For $14 U.S. ($28,000 Columbian. Yes, they use the $ sign) we took a steep climbing ride from 7,600-feet to 9,600-feet. Didn’t know Bogota’ was that high, eh? Atop Monserrat, we had a great view of Bogota’. The air was clean and crisp relative to the auto exhaust tainted air down below. Kathleen and I walked around the premises and began to poke about the mixture of trees and shrubs looking for birds. Not having a bird book, we were going to be struggling with identification. Most SoAm bird guides are bulky, heavy, and only cover individual Countries so we did not want to bring 25-30 pounds of field guides that take up as much space as a small desk-top computer tower. So, we tried to take pictures and hoped to identify the birds later. We walked amongst the stone and brick structures with the locals and other foreign tourists. We spent 4-hours walking about the grounds of the cathedral and managed to have a nice meal at one of the local restaurants. Kathleen had a chicken dish, while I had all the major farm animals aside from horse and Border Collie. I didn’t think what I ordered was to have a slab each of beef, chicken and pork. We sat and enjoyed the scenery while eating.

By 4pm we were gliding down into Bogota where we wandered about the streets until we found a Mercado that had large jugs of purified water. We decided end the day, and went back to our hotel.

November 25th found us learning that our bikes had not even left for anywhere. Previously, we had a glitch back in California where our U.S. shipper, Craters and Freighters, found out that a new federal regulation essentially required motor vehicles, such as our bikes, be classified as hazardous cargo because of the gas tank. Regardless of whether the tank was drained and swabbed out like I had done, the bikes have a gas tank and other chambers that hold petroleum products. Many air-cargo carriers apparently became quite concerned about how to interpret the new rule. Some carriers backed out of shipping bikes, others wanted the bikes to be purged of everything petroleum by a professional service. Professional service? Purged, how? And never mind these bikes would be hurtling through the air nestled quietly between two wing tanks each holding 20,000-pounds of jet fuel.

Subsequently, Craters and Freighters found a foreign carrier that could get the bikes from the U.S. to Bogota, Columbia. The bottom line was more money would get the bikes to Bogota. Saw that coming.

Now, with this latest news, we were told the bikes lacked various documents to even allow them to leave San Diego. Working with Keith, Craters and Freighters, and Carolina and Johana, Sunrise Cargo, Bogota, we began to piece together that the bikes may not leave for Bogota until the week of 30 November. Meaning, we may not see the bikes until the end of the week. This was not good. Kathleen and I only have 9-weeks to complete the trip. Each week means either cutting the trip short or blasting down the Pan American Highway to make Buenos Aires. We don’t like blasting down highways.

We decided to wait and see when the bikes would arrive. Until then, Kathleen and I went touring Bogota. We read and heard the Gold Museum was a must see. We walked along the narrow streets of the city before arriving at the museum. Inside we perused through 3-floors of solid gold artifacts dating back some 3,000 years up to the Spanish Conquest in the 1500’s. The intricacy of some of the earrings and figurines was impressive given the people crafting them were using stone and wood tools (pictured in life size). That, and the little detail of smelting the gold out of rocks using stone bowls with wood handles. Equally impressive was the amount of gold worn during ceremonies. Do-dads and bobbles mounted on the nose and ears. These adornments had to weigh a pound or two.

After a few hours of gold and copper metallurgical handy-work, Kathleen and I went over to the Columbian Capital and Congressional buildings. Here the place was crawling with military, police, and assorted guards. We found the information center northwest of the plaza and got a map of Bogota. We then walked down to the presidential palace where the President of Columbia actually lives. We speculated as to whether the President would have us over for lunch.

We meandered back toward our hotel and stopped at a little shop for dinner. We had another fine meal of little steaks, spaghetti, vegetables, and potatoes. We topped this off with a strawberry tart. Our hotel was having internet trouble so we went to an internet shop and plugged in. We didn’t learn any more regarding our bikes. All of our communication was over the internet either as e-mail, or Skype to talk over the phone lines.

After we bought a mango and some tangerines, we ended our day working up what we’d do for the next couple days. One thing we were going to do, was change rooms the next day as a couple doors down is a youth hostel and two bars. Our window was toward the street where throngs of people each night have loudly entered and exited till 2 or 3am since we’ve been staying. Kathleen has been sleeping okay with the thump of music and shout-fests. I’ve not fared so well.