Bogota Week One

I arrived and met Praveen at Las Aguas bus station. Did not really remember that place from last time even though it was just around the corner from my hostel. I would get to know it very well over the next three months. Seems weird writing a travel blog without any actual travel. Maybe it will become more of a lifestyle piece, but I intent to continue doing this for Buenos Aires so my children can have a full account of my ten years or more of travelling if they have the patience to sift through all of it that is. Well Praveen had informed me that I should be able to come to some sort of agreement to rent the whole apartment, but as the amount the landlady wanted was insane it was just not feasible. Especially as I had made up my mind that I would not work in Bogota and only teach English for free before my course. I ended up taking the room that had no lock and was kind of a sliding door to the rest of the apartment. Funky layout, but very cold. There was a family from Medellin in the flat as well, but the landlady wanted to get rid of them. She was a nice lady whose mood changed when she got drunk and she got drunk a lot. The family from Medellin had a daughter who always seemed to dress up around me and put in more effort. Praveen reckoned she was interested and the family was nice enough, but I was glad to get rid of them. That evening I went out for drinks with Maria in the zona rosa and I was settling into my neew city.

The next day I chatted and did nothing all morning. This would become a regular routine for Praveen and I. He had quit his work placement with Fenalco. He was contracted for 38 hours a week, but they were getting him to work 70 or 80. So he was unemployed while he waited for the tribunal results. The landlady was also not working as she had broken an ankle so we were effectively a flat of bums. I went and had lunch with Maria, where I had strange coffee and cakes and was jokingly offered sex for English lessons, although maybe its something I should start considering. The locals are definitely good looking enough in Bogota. Met Angelica and Luisa (friends of Marias). I went to meet Raisa for her farewell meal before she left for China. There was a drunken man on the transmilenion who kept falling on me and then stuck his hands down the back of my trousers, seemingly trying to undress me. Not exactly sure where he thought he was, but I shoved him off and told his friends to control him. He fell out the bus doors at the next stop and will play no further part in this story. Met Raisa, a Chinese friend, a Colombian guy (I think is her boyfriend) and a Turkish dude in Wok for some food. At this point I was still pretending I can stick to my budget. Fat chance. There was a crazy taxi driver on the way home and noone seems to know Museo Del Oro in this city. Its a bit like taking a taxi in Paris, asking for the Eiffel Tower, only to be met by a blank stare. Unforgivable. I got back and touched up Praveen's cv for him.

D-DAY. Had to go to the DAS in the morning and find out whether I can stay in the country for a sufficient amount of time to undertake the CELTA. I went there and asked for the extension. I had my airline ticket on me. This airline would later collapse and go bust, meaning that I had to find another way out of the country, but for now it was sufficient to get me an extension. They told me to come back in october to sort it out, but that it should be no problem and I could have my extension until the date of the flight departure. I made a business proposal to my parents after constantly being spurned for ways to extend the finance for my trip. They eventually agreed to finance one thousand pounds each if I needed it to get through the rest of my trip. Looks like I will be calling on the first instalment of that money over the next few weeks as I have about 300 quid left. Have about three grand on the credit card but will only touch that for payments and not for withdrawing cash. Wasted the rest of the day online and hunting bars for my time in Bogota. Later that night I went barhopping with Praveen in La Candelaria. We found the ultra cheap Dona Ceci's just opposite Escobar and it would become our regular for our time in Colombia. We met Jenny that night and some twins. Praveen spoke almost no Spanish despite five or six months in Bogota and so the conversation was a little broken. There was also a strange man who made little models out of metal, but there were always strange people in that bar. Its a bit like Pepes in that respect. At some point Jenny lost her phone and left crying. I had to chase her. She said she felt the twins had stolen it and she was crying outside as we were sitting in the gutter. I suggested she come and stay at our place as it was close. She stayed over and at one point I thought she had gone into the landladys room. I only realised later that it was her bathroom. Praveen was left behind with the twins and metal man. He came back to the flat with the twins and came into my room when I was with Jenny. Bad timing lol. Ah yeah there was some strange Brazilian girl who was so hammered on Aguardiente she started stripping on the tables. Praveen realised I was with Jenny and so he sent the twins away. Nothing much happened as she had a boyfriend and did not want to cheat. In the morning I broke some of her objections but not all of them.

I decided to catch up on my writing that morning. I don't know what I did though as I sure as shit did not do any writing. Was a little tired from a lack of sleep. I slept all afternoon long and then I went to play some five a side football with Praveen but we were too late to have a game. We went to a Bohemian art cafe where I did an interview in Spanish about the artist's work. It was a blending of the indigenous women into the backgrounds of famous Colombian landmarks. Quite cool. He had lived in London as well so we chatted for a bit. Then we went to a coffee shop and drank a bit. Praveen told me his legendary mugging stories. These were so good that I would end up incorporating them into my lesson plans at the British Council by writing them as genuine texts. The first time he was attacked on his way back from work by two guys with a knife. He noticed they were a little bit nervous though, so he took off his belt and whipped them until they ran away. Then the police ended up interviewing him. The second is a classic. He had to attend an event at the Indian embassy near to Uribe's palace. He did not know the address so he took a taxi. The taxi driver drove him down a back alley and produced a knife. Praveen had a toy gun which one of the embassy workers had accidentally left at our flat. So he took the toy gun, put it to the taxi driver's head and ordered him to drive to Uribe's palace. There he exited the taxi and robbed him for 100,000 pesos ($50). He then tried to pay the fare, but the taxi driver ran away. Two motorcycle police chased him. Praveen was then standing in front of Uribe's pàlace with a toy gun and was surrounded by five soldiers pointing their rifles at him. He spoke no Spanish and shouted 'Soy Praveen, desde India. No se espanol.' They kept asking for his cedula (national id card) but when he reached for it they threatened him with their guns. Eventually someone heard him from the embassy and came and set him free. He ended up giving the money to the tramps around Las Aguas where we live. The third time he interrupted two guys robbing a woman and they ran away. There would be one more incident while I was there. He was punched by a tramp and ended up decking him before he ran away as there were more people close by.

I woke up on the friday really sick. It would be the first stage and sign of tonsilitis, but I was unaware of it then as it only lasted a couple of days and I had never had it before. I could barely move around and it was to wipe out my weekend. I was still struggling to ever get a proper weekend of nights out in Bogota as I was always busy with something or someone. There was a free calle 13 concert in the park so I decided to go to that with Maria and her friends. We had gone for drinks beforehand in La Candelaria and the artist guy recommended Gato Greis. Nice place when I eventually went. I got id'd by the police and I don't carry id so they were suspicious I was really English. The concert was great but afterwards I suffered froma really bad fever for all of the night.

I was told the next day by Jenny that I can't put besos in texts to her as her boyfriend may read it. Fair enough. Dom seems to be on fire down in Sao Paolo with the women. Reminds me that it is sad that he got sick down there and went back to Barcelona. He should really be travelling with me here, especially as Liz was asking after him last night as he was supposed to meet her and her sister with me back in May. My tonsils were like golf balls and I was due to meet Jenny the next day. I went with Praveen to an Indian independence day celebration. He said it would be funny to take an Englishman along and they could all throw stones at me. The food was really good and aside from not unerstanding anything in Hindi it was good fun. I went and watched GI Joe which was harmless fun and then I found out you can't buy transmilenio tickets after 11pm, which is stupid as the buses run until almost half past. This was where my hatred of this system of transport began to germinate and over my three months there I would come to hate it more and more until eventually it took its honorary seat next to the Los Angeles transport system as amongst the worst in the world. I walked back from Heroes which took an hour and a half. There are only a few shady bits around the calle 22-26 gay prostitute area. Its pretty desolate there. I don't trust around Avenida Jimenez station at night either, but the rest of the city is safe enough if you are used to big cities. Somerset lost the 20-20 final which was kind of shitty. Hmm I never checked how they did in the World 20-20 tournament in the end. Will just have a look. Ah we did shit and won only one of four matches. Egypt have 10 minutes to save themselves. Cameroon qualified by the way.

Spurs kicked off their season this sunday. I snuck into one of the hostels and put on the Spurs v Liverpool game. Opening day and the Liverpool squad looked weak. Confidence was up after the finish to last season. Some guy tried to sell me a cycling tour and said you don't come on holiday to watch football. Wrong and no thanks. I live in Bogota so I have plenty of time. This is the first game of the season and a big one. The correct phrase is 'you don't go on holiday to the US when the football season is on, because Spurs never win a game when I am there.' I would love to live in the US, but then we would get relegated. Liverpool were off colour and we won 2-1 thanks to goals from unheralded Cameroonian defenders. Class. We were off an running. My blog will most likely have snippets of Spurs for the rest of the trip. Top four here we come. Murray won Montreal. Good prep for the US open. Spoke to Dom for the first time in ages. I have contacted too many people, but I went on a La Candelaria bar crawl with Praveen. We found a lot of funky bars, including Gato Greis and the cheap rock places. Chatted to some Yankes and then turfed in. And so ends week one.