Tennis

The Norwegians arrive to Bogotá and bring the sunshine with them. We visit the National Museum (no English translations) and try some local maize cakes with banana and cheese for brunch. In the evening we visit the Zona Rosa for sushi, something I haven't had for a while. This southern neighbourhood is another world compared to La Candelaria - full of wealth and glamour. There are fabulous restaurants, bars and shopping centres. Walking around here you could be in any European or American capital city. Like Buenos Aires, the women are glamorous and extremely well-groomed. Here they say 'There is no such thing as an ugly woman, only a poor husband' - if something is not right, they fix it with surgery. All the women seem to wear high heels at all times, even for breakfast. The following morning Marie sets off to Medellín to meet her friend. Helene and I return to the Zona Rosa for some pampering and retail-therapy. The shops are incredible, with every brand you find on Oxford Street in London. Most of the shops are too expensive for our budget. However, we find a brand called Tennis which suits all our requirements and we update our backpack wardrobe, which was becoming rather tired! Afterwards we treat ourselves to a manicure and pedicure, followed by a glass of red-wine on a terrace, the perfect place to people-watch. Adam has changed his plans and so is staying with a friend outside of Bogotá, we will reunite at some stage further north. In the morning, we take a 9-hour bus to Manizales, capital city of the Zona Cafetera. Helene accurately notes that the drivers 'doesn't know clutch'. We feel sick for the entire journey as we jerk and swerve around the constantly winding roads. For some reason we imagine Manizales as a 2-road town in the country. Not quite the 500 million populated, busy city that we are greeted with! The bus station is crazy. One man shouts at us 'be careful with your bags'. It takes us a while to find a taxi. When we do he is also crazy. Surely he is high on something? He pumps hardcore techno music at full volume and drives at ridiculous speed through the city. I turn to Helene and say; 'we will be lucky if we survive this journey'. After a bit of a palava trying to find 'Mountain House' (we attempt to pronounce with our best Colombian accent). I cannot understand anything the taxi driver says. In fact, I cannot understand a word any Colombian says - do they swallow words or simply invent new ones? The hostel is lovely, we chat to the staff and make a plan to visit a coffee farm in the morning. Three buses we will need to take....aargh so much for a 2-street town, this sounds like a mega-mission!