Bogotá and Ibagué

I very much enjoyed my stay in Villa de Leyva at the Hostal Renacer. Nearly all those staying there were from Europe or Argentina. One Canadian. I, alone, from U.S.A. I left my bags there and went on a two night visit to Rogitama. This is a plot of land which a doctor bought in 1982 and replanted with natural flora. After 20 years the birds started to return, and then the ocelots and other mammals. It was rustic and inexpensive at $24, which included breafast, lunch and dinner. DR. Robert Chavarro and his nursing-professor wife were very kind. I showed him on eBird, using Hotspot Maps, how I discovered where Rogitama is located. He called me yesterday to thank me, again. It rained a lot while I was there but I saw the black Inca hummingbird, which was my primary target. At dinner a plate of funny-looking chicken was placed in front of me. As I ate it I was told it was rabbit-delicious. I received a 2-hour personal tour of the property and learned a lot from him.

The next morning I took the buseta ( small van) back to Villa de Leyva (one hour) and was given a larger room at Renacer. A balcony door I could keep open all night. Birds singing. Rose-breasted grosbeaks and summer tanagers everywheere. I watched CNÑ for an hour and drifted off to sleep in the queen-sized bed. I awoke at 5 am and shuttered to think what had happend overnight. I went to breakfast and the Europeans frowned at me. It was true. Enough said. That night I went to a bar and was constantly asked how it happened. The next morning was rainy. A good day to travel. After 5 hours on a 3 hour bus trip, I was in Bogota. The Argentinians had told me Explora Hostal was a good place to stay so I had made a reservation there. It was in the Candelaria part of the old city. More Europeans giving me a surprised look. I went to the Gold Museum at 3 pm and was in complete awe. More gold than Joan Rivers had ever seen. The true El Dorado. All pre-conquest and was never looted by the Spaniards. Incredible craftmanship. That called for a drink, so I curtailed my history lesson for a bit of fermented libation. I found a great old house with three fireplaces on three floors of art and books. 'How about a bit of red wine?' I asked. Coming right up sir. Cozy Glass roof with the moon looking down. The smell of the fire took me back in time to my home in Indiana. Cue Mussorsky 'Dawn on the Moskva River'. Cold and damp. I zipped down the stairs out onto the street and found another set of stairs going down. An elegant bar with a stage for music. Campari on the shelf. After four I headed back to my hostal but was diverted one more time to Bogota Beer Company. A very drunk young man wanted to know all about me. There are a lot of drunks in Colombia. Something I rarely saw in Ecuador or Peru. We had a nice chat. I picked up some fried chicken and went to my room.

In the morning the sun shone clearly. I went to an ATM and Juan Valdez for coffee and cinnamon rolls.  I asked the hostal to call a taxi and they had their own comfortable transport in a Great Wall SUV. I went to the bus station and after another 3 hour bus trip I arrived in Ibague, 5 hours later. Twenty hours in Bogota was enough. Ibague is at 4,200 ft and a nice climate. I wanted a nice hotel so I told the Taxi driver to take me to the best downtown hotel. At $34 a night it is very comfie. I posted a request on a Facebook Colombia Birding page and was contacted by several folks wanting to help with my birding pursuits. There is a botanical garden 8 minutes away from my hotel and I was told it was dangerous to visit and to be careful. Colombia is not tourist-friendly. It is a pain in the ass to travel on busses and then I have to be vigilant everywhere I go. Were I to live a full life, I would not return to Colombia. Anyway, A young student offered to accompany me birding to the gardens this morning. We went at 7 am. Oh, they don't open until 8 am. There were many birds, none new for me. He new little about birds. I would have done better without him. We called the taxi and came back to my hotel where I taught him about eBird, also. This evening I went to the plaza where the big church is and watched a procession of well-robed catholics walk into the church. Must have been the Bishop- cue Monty Python. I had 4 beers as they sang. I took out my camera to take a picture of a coffee-making jeep and as I lifted my shirt to put my camera in my pocket a young man saw my scar. "Ohh, what is that from?" Just a touch of cancer, I said. "That ugly scar was cancer?" That ugly scar cost more that $100,000 dollars, I told him. And it is much more interesting and special than your cheap tatoo's. His face went blank. More fried chicken. No Campari to be found. I am in my room contemplating my next pueblo. Armenia, named in honor of the folks the bastard Turks slaughtered. I am heading into the Nevada del Ruiz area where earthquake and lahars have killed many thousands in the last, oh, 25 years. Although I am a true misanthrope, I cry when people suffer. All people, of all races. I wish the Bishop understood why life in not fair. I do. Ama la Vida y'all.

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