Staycation in Bogotá

Since Brent went back to the States I've been slacking a bit on the blog, don't let this lull you into thinking I've just been partying and napping all the time (though those are the key agendas of most living the hostel life in Bogotá), Switching from the swanky Zona Rosa to the more humbled and weathered colonial barrio of La Candelaria was refreshing, mainly because it sits up a little higher than where the downtown smog can creep. From what I've heard, La Candelaria used to be quite dodgy, some of which still shows. Though not present around the pristine museums and starbucks-style cafés during the day, there is still a smattering of the homeless that are often overly persistent in their pestering for money. La Candelaria more or less tows the Lonely Planet line of "wonderful during the day, still a little sketchy at night."

Though the Universities that frame the area and the development that has accompanied them has created a certain shine and sparkle. The area also sits in the shadow of El Monserrate Cathedral, perched high atop Bogota's largest hill:

A quick gondola ride to the top reveals how massive Bogotá truly is. 8+million people never looked like so much until crowded into a valley and jammed up onto the hills. The valley itself isn't that wide, causing urban sprawl to stretch on for miles. Much like L.A., lots of distance to cover equals horrendous traffic and the sad part is the public transportation. When traveling I make a concerted effort to take public transportation options as much ase possibl, but when they stink as bad as Bogota's it's difficult. The TransMilenio was established a few years back and while it has helped to facilitate the movement of people, it's not enough. I'm not fully conviced of the Bus Rapid Transit systems, though they've had some success in places like Curitiba, Brazil. Even with 2 special bus lanes, the seemingly-always crowded TransMilenio buses still take between 30 mins. to an hour to get from La Candelaria to the Zona Rosa.

It's particularly difficult to be objective in judging the TransMilenio in contrast to Medellín's futuristic Metro trains: fast, quiet and air-conditioned. Chalk that up as one reason I don't think I'd choose Bogotá as a place of residence anytime soon. There are still a lot of really poor areas. Walking to an open air market about twenty five blocks from Candelaria (during the day), down one street I saw a market that so resembled a middle-eastern bazaar, I was too apprehensive to stop and take a photo. In spite of it's poorer areas, Bogotá does have a lot of nice safe areas worth exploring. I was fortunate enough to learn about the "Buseta" (small bus) system to make it out to some of the nicer barrios. Though clearly developing (esp. within the past 10 years), it's just a little harder to seek out the beauty in Bogotá when you contrast it with some of the smaller Colombian cities who aren't as burdened with the classic problems faced by all capital cities.

Jesus in a Mine Shaft

About 50 km North of Bogota lies Zipaquirá, not much to look at, but home to the biggest salt mines in Colombia and consequently, "Colombia's first tourist attraction" (their words, not mine): the salt cathedral. The ocean that used to exist where Bogota now is was drained after the Andes mountain range rose up to form Colombia as we now it today, leaving a large quantity of salt deposits. While the indigenous populations had a basic way of creating salt cakes from streams and lakes, the Spaniards streamlined this process by boring into the mountainside.

While the tour quietly skipped over the sad-but-true fact of how these indigenous populations were forced to work in the salt mines, it did a good job of explaining the development of each of these crosses representing the 13 stages of the death of Christ were made. Being a miner was (and still is) one of the world's most dangerous professions, so the miners figured that one of the best ways to protect themselves from the many dangers of the mines was to pay tribute with a cathedral in their workspace. As we were led nearly 700 feet (200m) under the ground, the chambers got bigger and wider, reflecting some of the blasting and extraction techniques of the salt miners. As we reached the great hall with it's great statue and pews, we were informed that public church services are still held here every Sunday. I had to stop for a Star Trek looking picture next to this tablet of power:

 

We even did a mine shaft tour, where there was a "simulated" explosion and we got to throw pickaxes around mining for salt. After a disappointing 3D movie (which sadly did not rival Avatar), I tried my luck at a climbing wall and was humbly put in my place by the wiry Colombian operator, who had mad it look way to easy by scrambling around on the wall earlier.