It’s definitely the hardest part to wake up in the morning when you are traveling. After a night of salsa till 3am, you want to hide your phone that is screaming for you to wake under pillow and never see it again.
But we did it. An Argentinian girl Romina and I heroically woke up at 8:30, stuffed ourselves with bread butter and coffee, put the running shoes on and were our in the town searching for the street that lead to Monserati. There we were meeting a couple Australian friends to climb up.
Lets ask how to get there, Romina said. And good thing we did. The upper part of La Candelaria is a pretty dangerous. It doesn’t seem that way but when you are stopped by police or a local that tells you to go back, you know you walked too far. We decided to take a more crowded road where from time to time you could see the police.
When we finally got to the gate and met our Australian friend, the climb seemed pretty steep but 90 min later we were overlooking Bogotá listening to a Christian choir singing in the church.
We spent about 30 min on the top, ate a bunch of fried stomach particles of a cow and maybe other animals that I shouldn’t know, had a thick piece of cheese with sweet milk and jelly and started walking back.
All was good as suddenly four little kids were walking too close by and gossiping, giggling next to us.
– Do you know what time it is? – asked a little boy. I was about to reach to my cell phone to tell him the time as I felt Romina’s elbow poke.
– No you don’t. Lets go – she said.
The Australians were walking a few meters in front of us. Romina and I were watching carefully the kids. They were probably 7 or 8 years old. Two of them were walking in front of the Australians, one next to them and one behind. A few seconds later we realized that there was also an older couple or their parents that were just behind us.
With a lot of confidence, Romira and I moved forward, grabbed Australians and took them to the side of the road, waiting for the family to pass.
– Let’s wait her – we said.
Nothing would happen because there were a bunch of people, but there is so much precaution one need to have while in Bogotá. (Or any part of the world I should say).
We got to the bottom of the hill safely, had a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, a cookie, a cup of Colombian coffee and I am about to take a siesta.