Arriving In Bogota

Following the brief layover in Lima I arrive at the El Dorado Airport in Bogota. The change of the flight meant that I arrived much earlier than anticipated and had to wait for 8 hours until I was able to find my way to my couchsurfing contact. After numerous attempts to sleep on metal benches and seats I give in to the fact that I wasn't going to sleep. After all it was 4am in Bogota and 10am in my head, so I sat next to the nearest socket and spent hours looking at the loading screens of websites. Airport internet... After waiting four more hours I manage to get a sim card and head out of the airport, into the fresh air of Bogota. I guess what I had heard was right, Bogota is located at such a high altitude that the temperatures are very moderate even to scottish standards. I walk towards the nearest bus which has written 'Transmilenia' on its side. I get my tablet out to check one more time that this is the right bus and I must've seemed pretty helpless as a woman that is just about to get into the bus turns to me. "Where are you trying to get to?" She asks with a wide smile and holding onto her large suitcase. "Oh you speak english, great! Well I am trying to find my way to a place near La Candelaria on Ave. Caracas." I answer and put my tablet back into the military messenger bag that I had slung around my shoulders. "Well this is your best option then. Just get into the bus, I'll pay for you because you need a card to get onto the bus which you can't get in the bus. Like the oyster card in London. The exact way to where you're trying to get to we can figure out inside." She replies helpfully and heaves her luggage up the small stairs. I had heard that Colombians often help foreigners to show them some of the beauties of their land but I have to admit that I didn't quite expect such generosity. After arrival in the flat I started greeting and getting to know the people. Two travellers were currently staying from Argentina, there was Chris from the US, Zsombor from Hungary, plus of course Motoko the host and her 5/6 flatmates. It was a constant coming and going of new and old people throughout the week. It might have made it a little difficult to keep track of everyone but created a very vibrant and lively atmosphere. The day after my arrival the weather seemed to play along so Zsombor and I decided to go and climb the famous Montserrate to experience the beautiful views and church on the top. I hear myself starting to pant after a few minutes into the climb. "The air is pretty thin up here isn't it!" Zsombor says breathing hard as he takes a step into the shade of a large tree. We stop for a short break and start chewing on a sesame bar that I had found in the bottom of my bag. "Actually, I think Bogota is something like 2500m high. Which would make Montserrate about 3100m high." He says and takes another bite off his half of the sesame bar. "I guess we'll get used to the lack of oxygen in the air soon, at least it means that the weather is kind of moderate. Good for getting used to the heat after hitching around Europe in the winter." I say and urge myself to follow Zsombor who was already starting to climb further up the mountain. Overall not a bad hike and considering that it took us 1½h of reasonably relaxed walking it had definitely been worth the trip. I don't think that taking the cable car or train up the mountain could be worth the extra money considering the beauty one experiences during the walk. The sun is starting to really penetrate our white winter skin as we climb back down after exploring the top a little bit. However the cool air seems to prevent us from noticing, even after continuing our walk through the town the sun doesn't seem to bother us. However after playing a game of pool with Motoko the heat starts to get to me and Zsombor. My body becomes terribly tired and as I snuggle into my sleeping bag I notice my skin lightly burning. The following morning I look into the mirror and can hardly recognise myself, my entire face had become completely red. Zsombor's sunburn was even worse than mine making him feel a little sick and dazed. For the rest of the day we were forced to hide from the sun in the big victorian styled flat of Motoko.