Travel Lessons in Bogota
Prior to Bogota, I had been traveling in Colombia for roughly two weeks. I’d had the best experiences, I always felt safe, everyone we encountered had been so helpful, and we felt like the prices we had been given were always fair. That was about to change in Bogota. We were staying with one of my friends from college who had lived the majority of his life in the sprawling, Andean city. Since we had access to such a wonderful resource, I happily picked his brain to get a better feel for our three-day home.When we were asking about what to do, where to go, and any precautions we should take, he said, “Ten cuidado,” or “Be careful,” as the city can be quite dangerous. Despite being a Spanish-speaking, city native, he still considers about 85% of the city too dangerous even for himself. Bogota follows a grid system, and he taught us that Calle 75 and above is considered safe. In these neighborhoods, people commute to work via bike lanes and have no fear of the dark. The time we spent above Calle 75 was wonderful (although a bit chilly at night). Anything below Calle 75, we were told, we should avoid at night. He laughed at the idea of a public bus. Taxis are apparently the only way to get around, but not without further stipulations: do not hale a cab on the street, and do not take a cab between the hours of 5:30 and 7:30 PM. All of these directions created a difficult dilemma. How were we supposed to see anything in Bogota? The rules had to be broken.
The first day that we ventured south of the ‘safe zone’ (Gasp!) was to the Plaza de Bolivar. The plaza, which is home to several of Colombia’s governmental buildings, as well as Bogota’s primary cathedral, is one of the city’s few famous landmarks. The plaza is located in the heart of the historic district or La Candelaria, and is surrounded by old cobble-stoned streets lined with Spanish style homes. The city has done a decent job of putting up tourist directories and maps along the historic streets, so that one never feels too lost. There are several museums within the same neighborhood, which we planned to visit as well.
To get downtown, my friend suggested that we download Tapsi, a taxi app. The app provides a pin number that you recite to the cab driver before they take you to your destination. The online system provides a bit more safety assurance since there is a direct record of who, when, and where. It worked perfectly: the cab dropped us off right where we requested, and we paid the amount stated by the meter. Note that Bogota cab meters are not straightforward. The time is measured in clicks, and the clicks are then converted to a price at the end of the ride when the cab driver presses a second button on the meter. For example, the meter could measure 240 clicks, which would correspond to a price of maybe 15,000 COP. There is also a chart in each cab that, theoretically, could be used to decipher the meter amount. In our experience, the chart was kept with the driver.
After a brief stop at the Plaza de Bolivar, we headed towards the museum complexes. We visited the coin museum, the art museum and the Botero museum, which are all part of one big complex owned by Colombia’s Bank of the Republic. The Casa Botero, which is home to an impressive collection of Fernando Botero paintings and sculptures, is housed in an old, Spanish-style home with a proper fountain-filled interior courtyard. Also in the Casa Botero are several of his own purchases including pieces by Monet, Picasso, Rodin, Dali, and Rouault.
Attached to Casa Botero is the coin museum, which is also housed in a beautifully restored, Spanish compound. Behind these two, is the slightly more modern building which holds the Bank’s collection of Colombian modern and cultural art. The museums took the better part of the day, and when we were finished, we had just enough time to grab some empanada’s before we turned to pumpkins.
Since we did not have international data plans on our phones, we headed to the Juan Valdez café to use our taxi app on their wi-fi. Unfortunately for us, the café and all the surrounding blocks had lost their power. After wandering a bit to find an alternative, we noticed that everyone seemed to be getting out of the downtown area. We felt we had no choice but to hale a cab off the street (Gasp!). It took some time, as it was rush hour, but we finally found a driver that would take us to our safe-haven above 75th street. Luckily, nobody popped out of the back of the cab to mug us (which we were told has happened), but we did have to pay the “tourist” price. The cab told us the amount on the meter (less one zero) was the metered price. Knowing this was not true, we attempted to argue in our non-Spanish and failed miserably. We sucked it up and paid the price.
On our second day in Bogota, we headed to the Museo de Oro (the Gold Museum). Using the taxi app from the comforts of our apartment, we were able to get a fair ride downtown. We took advantage of an early start to wander the neighborhood before entering the tourist zone. The city was bustling, and we felt like we understood what life was like in Bogota.
After the museum, we headed to the teleferico station to take the cable car up to Mount Monserrate. Everyone warned us not to walk – too dangerous obviously – so we took a cab to the station. The cable car up the mountain was a beautiful way to see the city. It is amazing how the city sprawls for as far as the eye can see. Bogota is high up in the Andes, and the clouds sit low over the city. On the other side of the viewing platform was forest. I could not get over how fast the density of the city turns to nothing but wild. While at the top, we stopped at the café to have a hot chocolate with a side of cheese, a traditional combination in Bogota. It was delicious, an unlikely paring of two of my favorite foods.
As the sun sank low in the sky, we knew we had to head home. We took the cable car back down the mountain and caught a cab. There were a few drivers waiting for us tourists. I had a feeling they were not the best choice, but since we were warned by several sources not to walk anywhere near the station, we hired one anyway. Until this point, any cab we he had haled was only dishonest with the meter amount, so we had paid a bit more than we should. But the Monserrate cab driver did something that caught us completely off guard. When we were paying, I had handed him a 50,000 COP bill. In Spanish, he began to yell that the meter said 24 (which we knew was not the actual price), and that we handed him a 2,000. Embarrassed, I apologized, and handed him another bill. It wasn’t until then that we realized he was swapping our bills for something much less. Unfortunately, he had the scam down pat, and continued to yell at us with the doors locked until he got what he wanted. We tried to argue, but in our limited Spanish there was not much we could do. We left the cab feeling angry; we had just paid 124,000 COP for a ride that should have been 10,000, max. When confined to our home neighborhood, Bogota was wonderful, beautiful, and fun. But the dishonesty of some and constant worry about our safety led me to feel eager to move on.
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