After a couple of days of exploring Bogota (which included witnessing a military commissioning ceremony in the Plaza Simon Bolivar and a trip to the Botanical Gardens) I was ready to see another side of Colombia. I had settled on Cartagena, a significant city located on the country's northern coast.
Added incentive to my domestic travel was that as a result of national council, gubernatorial and mayoral elections, the days preceding Sunday's voting were deemed, by law, "dry." For those unfamiliar with this terminology (in truth, I was), this meant that starting Friday evening, there was to be no hard alcohol bought or consumed in all of Colombia. It was quite a sight to see: it was friday night and all the bars in Bogota were closed. In the grocery stores, the hard alcohol was cordoned off. I figured that things would be pretty uninteresting in the capital city, so the time was ripe for a bit of exploring.
Arriving in Cartagena Saturday afternoon, I could see why it had been so highly recommended by friends of mine who were familiar with the city. It looked like it had been carved out of Brazil's northern region and plopped down on Colombia's northern coast. The people looked, well, they looked like me. All shades of black and brown and cinnamon and caramel. One does not need a history book or Wikipedia to see that Cartagena was one of Colombia's oldest and most prominent slave ports. The result was all over the city in the form of a racial diversity that would rival anywhere in the world In addition--the second most prominent historical characteristic of the city--the city was home to Colombia's largest fortress. It is the presence of the remnants of these forts, along with the multitude of beautiful people (my use of the word "beautiful" is completely objective) that has caused Cartagena to be one of Colombia's most significant tourist destinations.
All of this was enough to distract me from the darkening skies as the airport taxi made its way past the fortresses and historic "centro" to the Bocagrande district of Cartagena, where I would be staying until Tuesday. In fact, it was not until i was halfway down the beach--having quickly gotten my room and dropped my bags--that I realized that the weather was changing. By the time I did realize what was going on, it was too late. The rain (which felt like it was mixed with hail) came down in large, sharp drops, easily soaking my clothes in less than a minute. Trying to play it cool, I started to walk back to the hotel, but realizing that at this rate, I'd probably be underwater, I ran to a nearby building for some cover. I would not learn until later, while consulting weather.com, that the conditions were supposed to remain this way through Tuesday.
Well, at least I had gotten a couple of pictures.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Bogota: Watch where you breathe
Arriving in Colombia's capital city by night didn't bring anything too out of the ordinary in comparison to other large Latin American cities; a long ride from the airport with a chatty taxidriver through mostly deserted streets and neighborhoods. I'd be lying if I said I didn't contemplate my course of action if i determined that I was being taken advantage of. But have no fear my beloved readers, the tension and anxiety was all in my mind. I arrived safely at my destination in the city's Chapineiro Alto district.
I awoke the next morning ready to get started on the city. There is no real method to my madness; my philosophy, which seems to make sense (and is partially adopted from cousin Tito), is that (especially for the cities in which I will only be spending a short period of time) I see as much of the city as I possibly can. Rest and relaxation? Not on this trip. I must give a special shout out to my good friend and host Brittney, who was not only nice enough to house me while in Bogota, but also give me the rundown of the city so I would have a sense of where my time would be best spent.
Having run my daily gameplan by my gracious hostess, I was on my way, ready to see all of what Bogota's downtown (Centro) had to offer. As I turned the corner of Britt's side street onto Carreira Septima, the street that would take me directly to Bogota's downtown and the Plaza Simon Bolivar, I walked directly into a thick fog. As my eyes adjusted and I oriented myself I saw it was not fog, but more appopriately, "smog." Seemingly every vehicle that passed me down the street (especially the "busetta's") were emitting not grey, but BLACK fumes from their exhaust pipes. In my experience, this was a type of discharge I saw rarely, usually when someone was having car trouble. As I stood in awe, I was almost knocked into the street by a group Bogota natives (I assumed), all with scarves covering their noses and mouths.
I got my bearings and began to walk. The walk down Septima was long--the best part of 3 hours and around 5 on the roundtrip. The combination of the city's altitude--8,660 ft.--and the hanging layer of smog left me short of breath on a nubmer of occassions and I'm guessing shaved 3-5 years off of my life. Fantastic!
While the reason for this may be obvious to you, intelligent friends and family, it took passing several gas stations for me to piece together what seemed to be a good explanation as to the existence of this perpetual black cloud. While the gas stations in Bogota sell several types of gas (Premium, Super Unleaded, Regular, Diesel) the cheapest, by far, is Diesel gas. Whether that is intentional or simply a response to the current oil situation, it gives greater incentive to use cars that consume diesel gasoline. And while I may be getting my causation and correlation mixed up, in nearly every gas station I passed, there were lines for the Diesel pump, while oftentimes the other pumps were vacant. And as we all know, the resulting discharge from Diesel gas is a lot more harmful to the environment that most other fuels
(see http://www.environmentaldefense.org/page.cfm?tagID=51).
I'd be interested to hear what you all think.
And so the moral of the story boys and girls: If you're coming to Bogota, make sure you've got a scarf or two, for the sake of your respiratory system.
I awoke the next morning ready to get started on the city. There is no real method to my madness; my philosophy, which seems to make sense (and is partially adopted from cousin Tito), is that (especially for the cities in which I will only be spending a short period of time) I see as much of the city as I possibly can. Rest and relaxation? Not on this trip. I must give a special shout out to my good friend and host Brittney, who was not only nice enough to house me while in Bogota, but also give me the rundown of the city so I would have a sense of where my time would be best spent.
Having run my daily gameplan by my gracious hostess, I was on my way, ready to see all of what Bogota's downtown (Centro) had to offer. As I turned the corner of Britt's side street onto Carreira Septima, the street that would take me directly to Bogota's downtown and the Plaza Simon Bolivar, I walked directly into a thick fog. As my eyes adjusted and I oriented myself I saw it was not fog, but more appopriately, "smog." Seemingly every vehicle that passed me down the street (especially the "busetta's") were emitting not grey, but BLACK fumes from their exhaust pipes. In my experience, this was a type of discharge I saw rarely, usually when someone was having car trouble. As I stood in awe, I was almost knocked into the street by a group Bogota natives (I assumed), all with scarves covering their noses and mouths.
I got my bearings and began to walk. The walk down Septima was long--the best part of 3 hours and around 5 on the roundtrip. The combination of the city's altitude--8,660 ft.--and the hanging layer of smog left me short of breath on a nubmer of occassions and I'm guessing shaved 3-5 years off of my life. Fantastic!
While the reason for this may be obvious to you, intelligent friends and family, it took passing several gas stations for me to piece together what seemed to be a good explanation as to the existence of this perpetual black cloud. While the gas stations in Bogota sell several types of gas (Premium, Super Unleaded, Regular, Diesel) the cheapest, by far, is Diesel gas. Whether that is intentional or simply a response to the current oil situation, it gives greater incentive to use cars that consume diesel gasoline. And while I may be getting my causation and correlation mixed up, in nearly every gas station I passed, there were lines for the Diesel pump, while oftentimes the other pumps were vacant. And as we all know, the resulting discharge from Diesel gas is a lot more harmful to the environment that most other fuels
(see http://www.environmentaldefense.org/page.cfm?tagID=51).
I'd be interested to hear what you all think.
And so the moral of the story boys and girls: If you're coming to Bogota, make sure you've got a scarf or two, for the sake of your respiratory system.
Friday, October 26, 2007
The Itinerary (Finally)
Countries & Dates
Colombia: 10/24 – 11/01
Bolivia: 11/01 – 11/13
Brazil: 11/13 – 01/12
Argentina: 01/12 – 01/21
England: 01/22 – 01/28
France: 01/28 – 02/03
Morocco: 02/03 – 02/11
Senegal: 02/11 – 03/11
Ghana: 03/11 – 03/18
Botswana: 03/18 – 03/30
Mozambique: 03/30 – 04/05
South Africa: 04/05 – 05/15
Colombia: 10/24 – 11/01
Bolivia: 11/01 – 11/13
Brazil: 11/13 – 01/12
Argentina: 01/12 – 01/21
England: 01/22 – 01/28
France: 01/28 – 02/03
Morocco: 02/03 – 02/11
Senegal: 02/11 – 03/11
Ghana: 03/11 – 03/18
Botswana: 03/18 – 03/30
Mozambique: 03/30 – 04/05
South Africa: 04/05 – 05/15
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
D-Day
The day has finally arrived. October 24th, 2007, 9:32 AM, LaGuardia Airport. I didn't sleep last night, too preoccupied by the fear of potentially leaving something crucial behind. I've had this nightmare over the past several nights of checking in only to realize that I've left my passport, or tickets for future flights. In these dreams I was fully clothed, so I felt no shame, only a fear that something would prevent me from taking advantage of this opportunity to see the world. Fortunately I think I've remembered most everything (at least the important stuff), though only time will tell.
For those interested enough to be reading about what's going on in my life, I appreciate it. There are apparently hundreds of thousands of blogs started each day, so it's not like your choices are limited. Thanks for tuning in to my little universe. I can't promise anything eloquent, as the quality of my writing has remained stagnant since my sophomore year of higschool; however, I will give as true an account of my experiences as I can, and will perhaps happen upon a few moments of inadvertant comedic brilliance. Who knows?
Welcome to my blog.
For those interested enough to be reading about what's going on in my life, I appreciate it. There are apparently hundreds of thousands of blogs started each day, so it's not like your choices are limited. Thanks for tuning in to my little universe. I can't promise anything eloquent, as the quality of my writing has remained stagnant since my sophomore year of higschool; however, I will give as true an account of my experiences as I can, and will perhaps happen upon a few moments of inadvertant comedic brilliance. Who knows?
Welcome to my blog.
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