Mounted
Saturday, August 26th, 2006Today we climbed to the top of Monserrate, a mountain which overlooks Bogotá. The guidebook describes this walk as a “gently sloping path, appox. 1 hour.” The trail was fraught with many trials and tribulations, but we overcame. It became especially bad when a three-year-old child and a grandmother with no shoes passed us on our ascent. Seriously folks, let your kids out of the strollers. These Latinos are kicking our asses in soccer for a reason. We did relish our hike down when we realized that there is nothing more disheartening to a climber than a gleeful descender. The stalls we passed along the way offered various refrescos, snacks, and we were even privy to a chicken battling a stray dog three times its size, and winning. We found it interesting that what would become an exclusive development community in the United States was left pretty well untouched - Bogotá just ends. At the top, we regrouped, checked out the Church of the Fallen Christ. We were not even carrying crosses and we could totally dig how much it sucked for Jesus.
Yesterday, we hit up two museums in the city. The first, Museo del Oro houses lots o’ pre-colonial bling. We learned that there existed over 84 tribes and 64 languages in the Colombia region alone. Methods of mining and processing of gold rival those of masters today. We wondered why the collection was relatively small and then we realized Spain has all the rest. The second, Museo del 20 de Julio houses the story of Colombia’s independence. We believe that on July 20, 1810 the Colombian revolution began when Spain broke their flower pot. For future reference, any such fact should be cross-referenced, as we are reading from all Spanish signs all the time. But really, a Colombian artist, Llorentes was angry because some Spanish guys were always borrowing and never paying for said flower vase (lots of money). The seeds of revolution were already in place and a declaration of sorts was being prepared. But, well, then the Spanish guys broke the vase. And there you have it. This gross generalization is equivalent to saying the American Revolution was over tea time.
Tomorrow we’re off to Salento for time in La Zona Cafetera.