It's lavishly called 'el Portal del Norte', but in truth it's simply lots of buses pulling up to the curbside of the autopista. To the un-trained eye it's organised chaos, but on closer inspection it's organised chaos. Each bus having a small sign on the front window, indicating it's final destination, and a drivers mate shouting the destination as the bus adds itself to the canvas of noise, activity and colour on the roadside. In the 5 seconds from sidewalk to bus i could have bought copied DVD's, faux-adidas socks, popsicles, beer, empanadas and kitchen utensils.
Welcome to Bogota, escape to the country.
Our destination was un-decided. Laguna Guatavita for rolling countryside and fools gold, or Suesca for rock-climbing. Fate decided the next bus was for Guatavita, so we boarded. I didn't know a lake could close, but we paid our entrance fee with one minute to spare before the gates were locked. The laguna is the site of Muisca mysticism and many plundered treasure hunts, all set amid rolling green and almost English countryside.
I've always took pride in finding ways to feel 'at home' wherever i am. After all, the UK number one single the week i was born was Paul Young's 'wherever i lay my hat, that's my home'. However, Bogota isn't quite home just yet. Maybe it's my procrastination addiction hampering my Spanish language ability, maybe it's the daily rain showers, or maybe it's just a thought i'm inventing.
From Guatavita we took 5's-ies in a farmhouse shack, and found a bus to Suesca. Sticking to the no-plan-plan we'd enjoyed an Argentinian steak and checked into a farmhouse hostel by 9pm. Sunday saw a leisurely breakfast, the Colombian staple of hot chocolate with cheese, rock climbing and a bus back to the hustle & traffic of the city.
This new year i resolve to fall in love with Bogota and Colombia, to speak near fluent Spanish and, to get out and explore despite confusion and inclement weather.
Now if only i could find a job where i'm not governed by a clock...
Love & Hope,
- Glenn x
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