Note: I sent this by email to many of you before – although frankly it was way too long and I would be shocked if anyone had the time (patience) to read about my gallivants. I broke it down (because i know you all have attention disorders) and edited it for your reading pleasure – because it’s all about you.
we touched down in bogotá about 2 in the afternoon. i was thrilled and could not wait to start our 16 (later adopted to 17) day tour through bogotá, colombia and a good cross section of ecuador.
when we got in the cab to be taken to the hostel platypus, i felt immediately we were no longer in the usa. our taxi driver pimped out his ride with some booming speakers and one of those tiny steering wheels that look like it belongs in a go cart rather than a car - which actually made some sense since the car was the size of a go cart. he then tore through the city streets barely missing other cabs, trucks, meridians, light poles and pedestrians. i began my foreign country taxi buddhist chant:
"
or
"
the bogotá 500 ended at our hostel which lonely planet describes "the kind of backpacker mecca..." thereby insulting Muslims everywhere. Although it wasn't the crappiest hostel i have ever stayed in (that award goes to the china train station hostel in hohot which did not charge extra for the feces on the floor), it was no mecca. it’s the type of place where you wear your shower shoes in the bathroom and for that matter, you never take off your shoes at all, and pray you don't get bed bugs from the college futon bought in 1984 which you now call your bed for three nights.
we quickly escaped to grab some food and the closest place turned out to be an israeli owned cafe l'jaim which was to have some awesome typical latin food of shwarma. since i am an awesome new jew, i was all for it. i kept saying we are going to la ham in which chris was quick to correct me saying it probably stood for l'chiam. i never said i was a good new jew.
my expectations of bogotá or should i say my stereotype was a bunch of coke smugglers funding their guerrilla war to smuggle more coke. okay, maybe i wasn't that stereotypical, but what i found in bogota is one of the most charming cities i have ever been in. it is a complete cafe culture with many people on the streets strolling the cafes, shops and outdoor markets. the first evening we stumbled upon a street fair complete with a transvestite comedian (comedy loses something when you only understand every 30th word), jugglers who set fire to tennis rackets, and traditional dancing. it was an amazing stumbling find - the kind that makes you want to travel forever.
the only downside was my street meat envy. bogota had huge chorizos on a stick topped off with a potato rolled in rock salt. YUMMY! i avoided this because my intestines are a fragile flower that I must tend to or they will pluck me out of the country. Other street food I passed on to not be airlifted from yet another continent included homemade donuts with glowing goo dripping from their powdered sugar middle, grilled corn with kernels the size of my thumbnail, and special herbal tea which I thought smelled wonderful and chris believed it was made from sewage.
more in the next blog....
1 comment:
are those hemorrhoids growing out of your backpack?
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