I am sorry I was not allowed to spend more time in Bogota, Colombia. Just as I was beginning to enjoy my stay in a place I must admit I was reluctant to accept an invitation to visit, I was on a flight, headed back to T&T. The invitation for the six-day visit to Bogota came from Proexport Colombia, a trade and tourism facility, which has been mandated to improve trade and tourism in the country. Along with 19 other journalists from around the world, most of whom were golf enthusiasts, we assembled at the Marriott on March 1, before embarking on a whirlwind and all-too-restrictive journey into life in Bogota.
A major PGA golf tournament-the Bogota Open-involving some of the world's top players, including Colombia's own pro Camilo Villegas, was our reference point but even before that, we found ourselves at a welcoming party for the players/officials /media at the prestigious Country Club of Bogota. It was a private affair with an opportunity for us to chat or get a vibe from some of Bogota's finest citizens -which, much to our delight-the chatting part, never really happened.
After some brief speeches, the place erupted into an explosion of free-flowing drinks, an excess of finger food and pulsating music that soon took control, which, if you are a Trini like me, or Ecuadorian like Ricardo or Puerto Rican like Eduardo or even Brazilian like Marco, you are bound to get involved. And, yep, that took care of the vibe! For my media colleagues, all of whom have an interest in golf, the next few days were mixed.
They visited golf courses, including the Country Club where the Bogota Open was scheduled, competed against themselves at Club Rincon de Cajica, got golfing lessons from Rogelio Gonzales, Colombia's most celebrated coach, but were disappointed when incessant rain curtailed the Bogota Open. To be honest, while they enjoyed the golfing activities, I occupied myself with trying to understand something about Bogota.
I had learned, for example, that there were several armed robberies against tourists establishments with foreigners being held for ransom and warned that a major safety problem involved the homeless people who roamed around the city, armed with knives. Of course, we were not exposed to any of this since the organisers, under the direction of the charming Susana Uribe, would not allow us to venture out on our own. Susana was really accommodating.
She was honest with information and although representing Colombia's best interest, was comfortable in discussing the challenges Bogota faced, whether it was traffic problems, crime or trade. For the visitor though, Bogota has a lot to offer. We visited a number of attractions including my favourite, the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquira, which is a Roman Catholic church built within the tunnels of a salt mine, 200 metres underground in a Halite mountain. While it has no official status as a cathedral in Catholicism, there is a temple at its base which represents the birth, life and death of Jesus.
There is also a functioning church that receives as many as 3,000 visitors every Sunday morning. One could not help but be amazed at some of the icons and ornaments hand carved into the Halite rock. While the cathedral amazed, the Gold Museum dazzled. The Spanish title is, El Museo de Oro, and believe me when I say it's all about gold. The museum displays an extraordinary selection of pre-Hispanic gold work collection, which we were told is the biggest in the world.
Pottery, stone, shell, wood and textile archaeological objects emerging from what the indigenous cultures considered sacred metal, are testimonials to the life and different societies which inhabited Colombia before it made contact with Europe. The museum has a collection of 55,000 pieces. It would have taken much longer than the hour we spent there to go through all. Of course, you can't visit Bogota and not climb Cerro de Monserrate.
We took the funicular and had the most amazing view of the city. You have to experience the Colombian coffee against the chill of the mountain top in the cozy restaurant, set against a medieval background. And after the view takes your breath away, settle down to a meal. Taste Bogota. I opted for Ajiaco-a traditional Bogota dish made with chicken, corn, and potato stew with a hint of local herb called guasca. Sancocho, a traditional dish that originated in the north coast was an option. It is made with any kind of meat, along with corn, potato, yuca, plantain and local spices, that are cooked together to form a soup.
Eventually, I would dine on this at a later time. Sumptuous! I must concede that Carnival Friday is not a day that any hot-blooded Trini man should find himself out of the country. But Carnival Friday night 2011 found me in Andres Carne de Res, a crazy-did I say crazy?- triple-floor facility, pumping with madness even while you ate. Even some of my modest European media colleagues shook a leg. This is where the movers, shakers and "in" crowd of Bogota descend nightly to free up. And free up they do. Once you complete your meal, you can waltz into the party, which on a weekend, never ends.
Unfortunately, it was hours away from my departure. So I freed myself, enjoyed my Carnival Friday night, and a few hours later, thanked my hosts, boarded my flight and got back home on Carnival Sunday to be part of the greatest show on earth. If only for that Friday experience, Bogota is worth the visit.