Time to be a tourist. I had one day to be lazy and adjust to the altitude. It was time to fulfil my backpacking destiny. Except what do you do in Bogota? Everyone had just told me it was an ugly city and they got out of it as soon as they could. However, I managed to use something called the internet to get ideas.
El Museo Del Oro, or The Gold Museum for us gringos, was recommended. It was an interesting visit – but it didn’t blow my mind. As mentioned before, low expectations can be a blessing, and my expectations weren’t low.
Afternoon was date time. Leveraging this internet thing with a smartphone app named tinder, I managed to organise a rendez-vouz with a nice English-speaking Colombian girl. I ordered an uber, with the same fear of taxis I had before. It said the car was 5 minutes away. 5 minutes later it said it was 6 minutes away. 6 minutes later it was 7 minutes away. I tried tappsi (colombian taxi app) instead. Same story. 5 minutes turned into 6 minutes. I had to cancel it and order my first taxi from the hostel. In the end, I was 2 hours late. A new record.
Yara was understanding, after all it was just my second day. I got a weird dish, I forget the name, but it’s basically chicken soup inside a bowl made of bread. And way too much bread for me at that altitude. The date was kind of awkward – I like to think because I still felt out of my depth.
Afterwards we went to get some tea – for digestion. We ended up talking about the girl I left behind in London. It was about the only thing Yara could get me talking about, and ex-girlfriends aren’t great date-talk material (if you’re wondering). In the end I was on the verge of tears – she was asking me not to cry. I told her I was British, it was ok. But it was the first time I realised how much I missed Cristina, the Spanish girl that had made my last few months in London so memorable. So I returned to my hostel with a sense of loss in my heart. At least it didn’t take 2 hours to get a taxi.