Bogotá III: The view from above

We conclude our short trek through Bogotá:

Zona Rosa: We got a ride to this upscale neighborhood, which seems like a cross between the Upper East Side of Manhattan and certain sections of Vancouver, British Columbia. After strolling through a couple of outdoor flea markets, both buying some souvenirs and talking to a nun asking for donations (though she spoke English with a heavy accent, she did talk about the years that she lived in the U.S.), we stumbled on to an art cinema where “The Lemon Tree” and “The Elegy” were playing.

We walked through a park, passing one trendy restaurant after the next and at least one car show (BMWs, Mercedes and Audis only), we walked into one of the fanciest indoor shopping malls imaginable, full of upscale shops, an indoor food court, a multiscreen cinema and hundreds of shoppers dressed in that slightly informal Bogotá way, which basically means slightly less exposed cleavage than Cali.

Cerro de Monserrate: A tram car (teleférico) takes 40 passengers at a time up the peak of Monserrate, one of the mountains that flank’s the city’s eastern edge. The four-plus-minute ride takes you about 2,000 feet above the city, giving you a panoramic view that a simple point-and-shoot camera can’t begin to capture effectively. The church that you find there will prove disappointing to those used to the majesty of churches found in Italy and Spain, but it does feature an altar daring back the 1650s “to which,” claims Lonely Planet, “many miracles have been attributed.”

That may be the truth, too, because we spent only a few dollars at the obligatory flea market that sat about a block above where a priest was holding mass. I passed on a T-shirt that featured an image of Ramon Valdez, obviously meant to be Juan’s somewhat demented brother. Not sure who, outside of Colombia, would get the joke.

One last Bogotá note: During our walking tour of La Candelaria, we stumbled onto a protest march at the Plaza de Bolivár. Wow, I thought, just like U.S. cities in the 1960s. A hundred or so young people, complete with banners and placards, chanting slogans that included the word “asesinos” – or killers. And, yes, I could see police in riot gear and an armored personnel carrier moving around the plaza.

Then we noticed: The kids were protesting the killing of bulls. It was a protest against bullfighting. Not that I’m taking their protest lightly, but I did begin to breathe easier. Not even armed police were likely to be shedding human blood in the name of animal cruelty.