Villa de Leyva and Bogota - a tale of two cities

Our last two destinations in Colombia could not have been more different - Villa de Leyva: a picture-postcard town that looks like something straight out of a movie set, and Bogota: Colombia's long sprawling capital, carved into a huge valley, with favelas clinging for life to its steep mountainsides, while the rich elite spend their days wining and dining, and being driven around by bodyguards. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself...

We started our trip to Villa de Leyva after farewelling the gorgeous San Gil, which we'd both grown to love (smelly person incident aside) and got on a bus that was supposed to only take 4 hours. It didn't. Firstly, we missed the bus we wanted to catch (ok, maybe our fault, but I'm not convinced there was actually a bus at this time), secondly it was by far the weirdest, most painfully drawn out journey we had been on. Ben and Alex were stuck down the back with a vomiting child and no flushing toilet, Ais was somewhere in the middle next to a guy who appeared to be ferrying a group of children from one town to another (I'm going with friendly Uncle as opposed to child trafficker), and I was at the front watching the bus driver play online bingo while driving us all to our deaths (sorry, I mean destination). After numerous stops, which seemed to achieve little other than to allow the driver to relieve himself, for hawkers to try and sell us stuff, and the police to come on board to check everyone's ID, we eventually arrived 6 hours later in Villa de Leyva. By this stage it was getting dark and - the worst shock of all - cold! (Ais was not happy). So we trundled off with our backpacks in search of our hostel. Being a small town we didn't think we needed a taxi, which was fine, but I now know that the maximum time I can walk with a 15-kilo rucksack, 5-kilo backpack and 2-kilo camera bag is about 10 minutes before I start to get grumpy. Especially, while trying to navigate big-cobbled streets in thongs.

We finally arrived at our hostel, which was very quaint, if a little strange, and immediately put our bags down and asked for beer. No beer! What kind of place was this? Clean-living? Tsk. So, we  trundled back into town and bought half a slab to share, over which we would contemplate dinner. 

Chill-out area at our hostel, with a parachute to protect you from the elements.

Arriving late at a new place always throws us a little: navigation, trying to avoid dodgy areas, bad restaurants, all seem to amalgamate together to form one confusing mess that results in us generally eating over-priced bad food. Villa de Leyva is apparently famed for its cuisine in this region. The pizza we ate did definitely not fit this category, although they were large enough to supply me with lunch for the bus trip to Bogota, much to Alex's horror (who I think secretly does like cheese, or is at least well on the way to becoming a lover of mild cheddar).

The next day we decided the best way to see Colombia's 'must-see weekend getaway town' was by the most obvious mode of transportation for anyone wanting to navigate a cobbled 17th-century town... By horse of course! This also gave me multiple opportunities to take photos of Ais on a 'horse outside', something that didn't cease to be funny until we'd finished our trek.

For some reason I (being the smallest) was given the biggest horse, and Ben, who probably comes in at about 6 ft 2 in was given the troublesome 'pony' who wandered along at the back with an attitude of a small disgruntled child that had been told to stand in a corner until it had 'thought enough about what it had done'. Ais had the 'alpha male' (of course) who insisted on being at the front the whole time, while I'm pretty sure my horse was heavily pregnant and just wanted to go to sleep. Still, we made a grand little troupe as we set out under blue skies with a slightly pervy Colombian as our guide, and had a thoroughly lovely time clip-clopping through the streets, taking in all the sights.

The horsemen (and women) of the apocalypse. The other five are camera-shy. See how bored my horse looks?

This house is made entirely from terracotta

It's a basket...

'If you're looking for a ride I've a horse outside...'

We spent the rest of the day chilling out on rather uncomfortable sofas (not too good, if you're a little saddle-sore), before promising to do better at our next restaurant choice.

We did definitely improve on the previous night's offerings, but it still wasn't exactly what I would call amazeballs food. It was extremely hard to find authentic Colombian dishes (and I guess if you're Colombian, then eating your own speciality cuisine on your long weekend away might seem a bit boring, so fair enough), so we ended up plumping for Mexican, which was good, but having just been in Mexico, a long way off the mark. Still, it's not all about food, I hear you cry (isn't it?), ah yes, I keep forgetting we're here to experience everything. 

With full bellies, eyes filled to the brim with stunning architecture and enough bites to play dot-to-dot on our legs, we set forth for Bogota.

South America's largest town square... Apparently.

And from the other side

Once in Bogota we ventured to our hostel, which was several blocks north of the designated backpacker area, as muggings are apparently quite frequent wherever tourists like to hang out, and we're not the bravest of souls. Also, I am damned determined not to lose my camera. Take my phone, take my credit cards, just mits off the DSLR and iPod (I realise my priorities may be a little skewed). 

Our first port of call was the incredible museo de oro, a museum filled with nothing but intricate gold artefacts found throughout South America. Not that it's an excuse, but it's no wonder the Spanish spent years in search of El Dorado, such was the proliference of gold found throughout the continent. Each artefact was beautifully presented, with explanations in English as well as Spanish (hurrah! There's nothing worse than trying to work out your 8th-century from your 10th-century archaeology when everything looks pretty much the same and is in another language). 

Gold! Always believe in your soul...

Feeling rich after consuming all that gold we headed to the local tat market, bought obligatory traveller wrist bands (one for every country!) and decided to splash out at Bogota's best ceviche restaurant (seriously, you'd think we'd be bored of the stuff by now, my phone even picks it up in predictive text). It certainly was up there with some of the best we've had. We each ordered a dish each to share, with the soy, orange and juniper-berry ceviche being the stand-out winner, although the tuna tartare came a close second. We all successfully succeeded in recreating the classic 'When Harry met Sally' scene with every new mouthful (the other guests probably thought we'd never seen real food), and washed it all down with a bottle of Viognier, the first wine I've had since leaving Australia. It was absolutely yum balls, although our wallets certainly paid the price.

The next day we visited the historic quarter and took obligatory photos of the town square and surrounding streets. I won't lie, in most places Bogota is a tired-looking town, in desperate need of a makeover. The majority of buildings haven't been modernized since the 70s, and there is a lot of poverty, which exacerbates the sad and depressing feel, the city centre gives. There are certainly rich parts, but they are such a world away from the grittiness of the 'real city' it's hard to see how the place will ever come together as one, due to the ever-growing divide between rich and poor. Shopping malls are erected, the new international airport looks spick and span with its glass exterior, while people living in favelas trying to eek out an existence that will never change all the while money is poured into sustaining tourism and the rich. Sorry, social commentary over, it was just something that really struck me in Bogota, more than any other place in Colombia, although I think Cartagena is the same, the government just don't want you to see the flip side of their precious Caribbean jewel.

In the afternoon we visited the museo de botero, an art gallery dedicated to this Colombian artist who specializes in all things fat, or at least making them look fat. Fat people, fat animals, fat fruit, fat sculptures, all with a couple of Picassos thrown in for good measure. We left feeling as though we'd all been on amazingly successful diets and headed for our final Bogota must-see experience - a cable car that takes you to 3500 m elevation up the side of a steep mountain for fantastic city views and our first potential experience of altitude sickness. Glorious views they certainly were, although it gets pretty cold when your that high up. We watched the sun set over the city with a beer in hand before descending for our last night in Colombia.

Plaza de Bolivar in Bogota

Fat!

One I drew earlier

A rose between two thorns

We treated ourselves to a trip to Mini Mal, a famous Colombian-fusion restaurant well-known for its attitude towards sustainability and pairing of unusual ingredients. It wasn't too expensive either - phew! Ais had sticky ribs cooked in some sort of dark ale, while I settled on a fish dish cooked with a traditional Colombian fruit which I can only describe as a mix between a tomato and a passion fruit. It was all rather lovely, although we were extremely sad to farewell Ben and Alex at the end of the night, who had been our travelling buddies for the last 10 days and have become firm friends. We miss them, their humour, and Youtube recommendations dearly.

We packed our bags for the gazillionth time, jumped in a cab, and headed out to Bogota airport for a 10-hour wait for our flight to Peru.

Colombia has amazed and humbled us; its beauty is second to none, and its people are warm and welcoming. I'm sure I'll vow to return to every country I visit, but in this case I know Colombia and I will meet again.