Colombia 2024, part 3 (Bogotá)
Colombia is a large country. For example, with an area of 1,141,748 square kilometres, it is more than twice the size of Thailand (where I extensively travelled in 2023 for a month) and nearly twice the size of France (which I occasionally visit, but I am far from having “seen it all”).
With this in mind, I initially arrived in Bogotá with the intention of spending nearly a month travelling through some parts of Colombia, as I realised I wouldn’t have enough time to visit everything that interests me in this very beautiful Latin American country.
However, due to the circumstances that I will talk about when the time comes, most of my plans changed completely and I managed to visit only the places I have marked on the map.
Regarding the history, people have left their traces here since around 18,000–8,000 BCE and, over time, indigenous cultures formed, about ten of them, covering territories in the central mountainous region of the country, along the northern coast by the Caribbean Sea, and on the west coast along the Pacific.
All of this changed at the beginning of the 16th century when gradual conquest by Spanish conquistadors began from the north and the Caribbean coast. Perhaps the most significant among them was Gonzalo Jiménez de Quesada, who in 1536 led an expedition into the interior and named the territories he passed through “New Kingdom of Granada,” later simplified to New Granada. On 6 August, 1538, Quesada also founded the capital of the “new kingdom” and named it Santa Fe. With time, the city eventually became known as Bogotá.
As for the state, at the beginning of the 19th century, struggles for independence from Spain began, though it was not easy or straightforward. However, in 1819, Simón Bolívar declared independence and became the first president of Colombia. The country initially formed was called Gran Colombia, encompassing present-day Colombia, Ecuador, Panama, Venezuela, and parts of Peru, Brazil and Guyana. This state dissolved in 1831, while various upheavals continued later. Today, Colombia is a republic with a president, while it officially adopted its current name, the Republic of Colombia, in 1886.
These struggles for independence were practically led by descendants of Spanish settlers who, as needed, intermingled with the local population. What I mean to say is that, apart from perhaps the Spaniards themselves, no one else should ever think there was anything romantic about this conquest and occupation of the territory that now belongs to Colombia. This is evidenced enough by estimates that between 7 and 12 million people inhabited the territory of present-day Colombia before the arrival of the Spaniards. Under Spanish rule, this population dwindled over time to 1.2 million, reaching the lowest point when it dropped to around 800,000 inhabitants. At the beginning of the 19th century, there was a slight increase, but due to the wars for independence, the population again dropped to about 1 million. It wasn’t until around the mid-20th century, after 450 years since the arrival of the new conquerors, that the population exceeded the levels seen at the beginning of the 16th century when the Spaniards first arrived.
Today, Colombia is home to over 52 million people, with over 8 million residing in Bogotá, one of the largest cities in the world.
At the global level, Bogotá ranks high in another aspect: its elevation above sea level. After La Paz in Bolivia (3,640 m), Quito in Ecuador (2,850 m) and Sucre in Bolivia (2,790 m) (La Paz and Sucre share the status of Bolivia’s capital), Bogotá stands at 2,625 m, making it the fourth capital city in the world in terms of altitude.
This altitude may be challenging for some individuals sensitive to lower oxygen levels, but I generally don’t have issues with high altitudes. In fact, on my first day in Bogotá, I set out on a walk with the intention of reaching an even higher altitude.
My goal was to climb Monserrate Hill (!), where there is a church at its summit. The “hill” and the white church on top can be seen in the following photograph.
To reach the top of Monserrate, visitors typically have the option to walk, which is commonly practiced by worshipers due to the significance of the church. However, visitors like myself, who may not prioritise the spiritual pilgrimage aspect, often use either the cable car or the funicular.
In fact, it is generally not recommended to walk all the way to the summit for safety reasons, as there are reportedly many pickpockets along the path and every foreigner represents an ideal target.
When I mention walking up, I specifically think of the trail that starts from the same point as the cable car and funicular, which is the steepest part of Monserrate. However, even to get there, one needs to walk. There is public transportation available, as well as taxis, but I decided to walk, which took about half an hour from the Gold Museum.
That part of the ascent wasn’t overly steep, although the gradual incline was constant. I must admit it wasn’t easy for me to walk up to the cable car starting point, partly due to objective fatigue from travel and the fact that Bogotá is at a high altitude. Although an average of 2650 m isn’t excessively high and doesn’t typically cause major issues, I know from my mountaineering days that individuals can start experiencing altitude sickness symptoms above 3000 m if they are sensitive. I’m not particularly sensitive, but I did find myself frequently short of breath.
Therefore, I took breaks along the way, while also taking the opportunity to snap some photos.
In Bogotá, you can see a very large number of graffiti. From what I’ve read, it is even encouraged, but fortunately, most of the graffiti I saw were really beautiful and not just random scribbles.
Perhaps this is because Colombians love strong and vibrant colours. There is something about the brightness of the tropical sunlight that emphasises bright colours more than in the areas with moderate sunlight. Moreover, even where there are no graffiti, it is clear that local residents favour bright colours.
Walking towards the cable car station, I could also see some very modern parts of Bogotá and there were plenty of colours there, too.
Along the way, I also came across the Parish Church of Our Lady of the Waters (Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de las Aguas) and from the square in front of the church, I could still see the summit of Monserrate.
The church was built between 1657 and 1694 as a single-nave structure in colonial style, while it was restored in 2003. It was originally part of a convent for women and throughout history has also served as a hospital and orphanage.
I hadn’t planned to visit this church at all, but since I was passing by, I felt a desire to go inside.
As I exited the church, a gentleman sitting outside approached me. This isn’t uncommon in Colombia, as people are extremely friendly and enjoy striking up conversations, a custom I am familiar with as well. Despite such casual encounters seeming superficial, they are pleasant exchanges of human energy where people usually smile, make eye contact and sometimes engage in small talk. This was the case on this occasion as well.
The gentleman asked me where I was from, whether I was Christian and so on, and I answered his questions. He then wished me well on my journey and said “God bless you,” making the sign of the cross over me. I found this gesture exceptionally kind of him. Perhaps he was simply a courteous and positive person, and I also considered that he might have been prompted by seeing me make the sign of the cross before entering and leaving the church, as is customary in my country. The fact that this church is Catholic and not Orthodox is irrelevant to me. Honestly, there are times I may enter and leave a church without making the sign of the cross, but that is very rare. While I’m not deeply religious, I generally respect all places of worship I enter, regardless of their faith.
As I continued climbing towards the cable car station that goes up to the summit of Monserrate, I also reached a park where Simon Bolívar’s estate, Quinta de Bolívar, is located.
Although I had been quite active on my first day in Bogotá and Colombia, already visiting various places, I found myself reluctant to explore yet another museum, regardless of its significance and size. However, since I was already here, I thought I might just take some photos from outside the gate.
And so, I approached the man who was working as security and asked if I could just peek inside and take a few photos. He said it was no problem, but also mentioned that I could enter and visit the museum. I then explained that I was heading to Monserrate and might consider visiting the museum later. He said that was fine but noted that I would need to buy a ticket if I decided to enter later on. At that moment, the ticket seller was absent, so even if I had planned to visit the museum, I wouldn’t have been able to purchase a ticket.
While I generally think ticket prices in Colombia are reasonable, I found this situation endearing. So, on the spot, I changed my plans and entered the estate where Simon Bolívar once lived.
Simón Bolívar (1783-1830) was born in Caracas, Venezuela, and is one of the most significant figures in Latin America, often referred to as the Liberator. Namely, he was a military and political leader during the wars for independence from Spain, primarily in Venezuela, Colombia, Panama, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia, which was named after him. As I’ve mentioned earlier, Bolívar was the first president of the country known as Greater Colombia in the early 19th century, which preceded modern-day Colombia. Hence, Bolívar's importance here, since he was practically the first president of the country.
As for the Quinta de Bolívar estate, it is a colonial house where the Liberator resided after the war for independence. Today, it houses a museum dedicated to Bolívar's life and that era.
The house itself was built in the late 17th century, but became quite dilapidated over time. However, it was restored specifically for Simón Bolívar, who, whenever he visited Bogotá, stayed here from 1820 to 1830.
After Bolívar had to leave the capital, the house passed to one of his friends, and then its owners and purpose changed over time. In 1919, it was purchased and became a national monument, housing the museum dedicated to Bolívar.
Within the estate, which isn’t very large, there are former stables for horses, an auxiliary house, as well as a vegetable garden. Behind the back wall, where there is a gate, you can also access a modern building housing temporary exhibitions of contemporary art. I went there, but wasn't particularly interested in the current contemporary exhibition, so I quickly returned to the traditional part.
Within the gardens, practically the park, in front of and to the left of the house (when viewed from the entrance), there is a small plateau with flags of the countries Bolívar is credited with liberating.
I took another short walk through those green areas of the estate, paying attention to the details, although I had passed through there when I first entered the property.
On the other hand, the exit wasn’t where I entered, but to the right of the house, so I eventually headed in that direction.
It was interesting that when I wanted to exit, a young woman working as security guard checked me, specifically inspecting my backpack and waist bag. Since we had already made that contact, I took the opportunity to ask her for advice on how to reach the cable car leading to the top of Monserrate, whether from one side of the estate or the other. With a somewhat fearful expression, she advised me to take the main street (to the left of the estate when facing the entrance, i.e., north), as the other path seemed unsafe.
Indeed, in that area, even along the main street, I noticed quite a presence of heavily armed police. I think this is all connected to the presence of pickpockets (and possibly more aggressive criminals) who target visitors, especially foreign tourists. I must say that at no point did I feel unsafe, but one should always be cautious and mindful of where they are walking.
Overall, I made my way to the nearby main street and eventually reached the cable car, where I encountered quite a crowd. The day was beautiful, so I certainly wasn’t the only one who had the idea to take advantage of the clear weather to enjoy the view from the top of Monserrate.