Bogata

This morning we met the rest of the travelers who will be with us for the main tour in Colombia. There aren't as many as previously listed in our travel documents. Three people canceled at the last minute, so there will only be 12 people in our group. That's fine with us. Of the 12, only one person is younger than Mary and I.

After our orientation meeting, we boarded a bus and headed for downtown Bogota. At the very new and modern Gold Museum (Museo del Oro) we were introduced to our local guide, Alejandra. She took us very quickly through the highlights of the museum, which is the largest collection of pre-Columbian gold artifacts in the world.

Although there was lots of information, the biggest take-away was that gold was valued by indigenous people, not as an economic commodity as it is for Westerners, but as a spiritual and symbolic substance. Gold was mined and shaped into ceremonial objects, but was to eventually be returned to the earth by being buried with rulers and priests, dropped into lakes in rituals, or buried in sacred rites.

In the square outside the museum, our tour leader purchased a palm fruit from a street vendor so that we could all taste it. It was not very tasty. The fruit is supposed to be an aphrodisiac. Alejandra's observation was that, when something isn't very good, it's marketed as an aphrodisiac so people will buy it. 

Also, he purchased a package of large, fried ants that indigenous people snack on. Not everyone in the group was on board with that, but Mary and I each tasted one. They actually weren't all that bad, but no one asked for seconds.

We walked a few blocks, passing the site where leftist presidential candidate Jorge Eliécer Gaitán was assassinated in April of 1948. His death ignited La Violencia, the Violence, which ultimately instigated 52 years of civil war in Colombia, complicated by drug cartels, communists, and right-wing paramilitaries.

Reaching the main square, we got a look at the parliament building, the Bogota mayor's residence, the main cathedral, and "the ugliest building in Colombia," the very modern Supreme Court building. The Supreme Court was attacked in 1985 by members of the M19 movement. By the time the crisis was resolved, almost all of the 30 to 40 rebels were dead, scores of hostages had been killed or "disappeared," and 11 of the court's 25 justices were slain.

The Cathedral is not ornate, but quite handsome. During the brief time we visited, a mass was taking place in one or the chapels. A young woman with a lovely voice was chanting beautifully in Spanish. We couldn't understand, but it was mesmerizing.

Alejandra lead us several more blocks, past 17th and 18th century buildings preserved in the old central city. We entered one, which is now a restaurant. We had very nice lunch in a 17th century building furnished with antiques, and Baroque chamber music playing in the background. The food was excellent, the wine so-so, but the blackberry juice was delicious.

After lunch, the bus met us a couple blocks from the restaurant. Most of the group returned to the hotel, but we and one other couple opted to be dropped off at the base of the cable car leading up to the top of Monserrate, a 10,000 foot-high mountain overlooking the city.

The view wasn't much, because smog covers the city nearly every afternoon. But there was a beautiful little Catholic church at the summit. Unusual features in the church were a black Madonna, and a statue over the main altar -- not a crucifix, but of Christ on the way to the cross, stumbling.

We were surprised to discover, behind the church, a marketplace with a lot of cheap souvenirs and a long line of food stalls serving ethnic Colombian foods, including tripe and blood sausages. It was interesting to look at, but we wouldn't be likely to eat any of it. Also of interest, but not purchased, were wine flasks made from cow hooves.

This adventure concluded by taking an Uber back to the hotel. We've never used Uber outside the U.S. before, but it worked well. Unfortunately, due to rush hour traffic, our ride took nearly an hour. The driver, of course, spoke no English.

Finally, we went to the other brew pub that is in the neighborhood near our hotel. The beer was better and the crowd was bigger. Mary was a trooper, even though beer is not her thing. Once again, we managed to order and pay properly, despite limited Spanish skills.