The rest of our bus ride to Tunja was uneventful. The silly Eddie Murphy movie Norbert was playing and, from the snickering by the passengers on the bus, the politically incorrect fat jokes and sophomoric flatulence humor translate well into Spanish.
We arrived in Tunja and stay at a cute hostel with much welcomed toasty woolen blankets. The higher altitude bring on much chillier temperatures and at 2800 meters I could hear myself panting for oxygen when we walked up tiny inclines. Tunja is another very nice small city with an impressive Plaza, yet another tribute to Simon Bolivar.
We find a small restaurant still open. Alisa convinces them they can put together a meal for a vegetarian even though they don't think they can. I enjoy their crispy rice. They even give me a little bag of ice to take home for the bump on my head.
My aching muscles welcome the comfy bed and I sleep well despite the noisy street traffic. In the morning after a hearty breakfast, we set out to explore Tunja. Very cute. But, I need to take it a little slowly today so we miss their famous ceiling art.
It's a short walk to the bus station and final intercity bus trip for my part of this journey. We get to watch 007 Casino Royale. It's quite violent in any language. However, we suffer no self-inflicted drama on this bus trip. It seems to take forever to reach the Bogota bus station after we enter the city limits. But, I don't dare stand up to go to the lavatory. I wait until the bus reaches the station. Alisa goes out to retrieve our bags but the bus driver is eager to pull away because he arrived late. But, Alisa bangs on the bus to let him know that I'm still on board. Whew! I am able to disembark
We stay at the annex of the Platypus Hostel. There's a nice double room with a hot water (hurray) shower and wireless Internet. It's very conveniently located. How nice! Tonight there's a birthday party with pizza to celebrate one of the travelers. The hostel provides the beer. We meet some interesting people. Definitely, this annex with its higher-priced separate rooms caters to an older crowd than the main hostel with it dormitory rooms.
The small slice of pizza wasn't enough for my dinner so we run out and grab some arepas which are more than filling. We're clearly in a happening neighborhood on a Friday night. A nearby bar is hopping with loud music. From our room it sounds like we are in the middle of the dance floor. I will join Alisa in sleeping with ear plugs tonight.
The ice packs have really brought the swelling of the bump on my head down considerably. On Saturday morning,we finish off the arepas from last night's dinner and head out to explore Bogota. It's very walkable although we are warned against flashing cameras on certain roads. But, it's beautiful. Again, I'm audibly panting as we climb some hills for magnificent vistas of the city.
The main Museum of Gold is closed for renovation but there's a very nice temporary exhibit. The gold pieces are nice but I find myself attracted to the ceramic pieces. It is nice that they display nongold objects along side.
We find ourselves tantalizingly close the Monserrate and debate back and forth about climbing versus taking the cable car.
We decide to ride up and walk down. The views are spectacular. The walk down the rocky path is difficult for me. My Bass sneakers are great for walking around the City but provide no grip for the smooth, slippery rocks and don't have enough cushion for my tender feet against the sharp, jagged rocks. I feel like the pampered princess and the pea every time I step on a little rock as I wince in pain. Alisa bears with me as I wheeze my way down the steep but beautiful path. The StairMaster at the gym doesn't have a setting for this kind of training.
But, I make it down as older people than I trot past me. Alisa miraculously guides us to the road taking us back to our hostel. Along the way we sample some delicious roasted corn. I treat my abused feet to a soothing massage. We explore the market across from the hostel and find some souvenirs. Shopping is hard work so we head back to the hostel for a little relaxation.
Later, the thought of dinner speeds up the recovery and we again hit the pavement. We walk and walk looking for the right place. Alisa is very persistent. I would have been fine with pizza. I'm so glad we searched further. A nice man at a pizzeria pointed us in the right direction to La Macarena, a little treasure trove with lots of restaurants serving typical Colombian dinners.
Alisa and I share one dinner. She takes the very hearty hominy soup and I have the vegetarian plate with rice, beans, squash and salad. We both leave very contented.
We're told that I should be at the airport three hours before my 9 am flight so we arrange for a taxi at 5:30. We've caught on that showers are only hot in the afternoon not in the morning (we speculate that they might use solar power to heat the water). I decide that I won't be able to endure a cold shower in the cold wee hours of the morning and enjoy a very hot shower in the evening.
Sweet dreams are mixed with sad emotions knowing that I need to leave Alisa in the morning.
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