Monserrate Climb: Great View, Bad Feeling

Maybe I should have made plans, more stuff would have happened since I’ve been here. I usually just wait for stuff to happen. Which could be why I have yet to really do anything with my life. But some stuff has happened. I climbed Monserrate. Well actually climbed is a bit of an exaggeration. I took el teleférico which is like a gondola, up to the top.

I went with two guys I met in my hostel. Laurys, from France, and Brian (no relation), from Australia. We walked around the top with a magnificent view of Bogotá.

We also looked at the church which I guess is most of the attraction. Can’t have a good view without Jesus. Then we walked down a long area filled with tour shops and men yelling at us to buy their food. We gave into one guy with excellent English who ushered us to a balcony with a wonderful view.

“You want lobster?” The man said beckoning to another guy carrying a large silver platter. He brought it over and it is the most intact lobster I have ever seen. It had the feelers and big ‘ol claws and everything.

“Is it fresh?” Laurys asked.

“It was caught today,” he said.

For anyone not familiar with Colombian geography, Bogotá is in the middle of the country, 8 hours from the nearest spot on the ocean. So it was hard to believe it was caught that day. And if it was I suggest that maybe they don’t do that, I can’t imagine it is a lucrative way to conduct business.

We finished our beers and decided to walk down. I mean the teleférico ride up had been pretty easy. Besides walking is free right? And free is always better.

It’s not. It. Was. Exhausting. I’m not in the best of shape since I never walked anywhere in Michigan. I mean why walk downtown when you can just drive three blocks. It’s cold anyway. Who wants to expose themselves to that kind of punishment?

The path down was made of big cobblestones apparently designed with intention of twisting an ankle. And it was also deserted. Like it looked like there were people there in the past. We could see evidence of people that were probably there before from all the detritus. But the most we saw was a few police outposts scattered along the path.

So when we saw two guys walking in front of us, I got a little nervous. I got even more nervous when we stop and Brian gets out his phone and they start looking back at us. As we keep walking they start to slow down. Brian gets out his phone and stops to take some picture of a scenic overlook. The two guys stop too, right below us.

A police woman ran down from above us and stopped where we are. She stares at the two guys until they leave. I don’t know if this made me feel better or worse about the situation. But the only thing we can do is keep going down.

A little later we spotted the guys walking slow. So we slowed down. And slowed down some more. Eventually we were just standing.

What should we do?” I asked Laurys.

“I don’t know,” he said.

I heard two guys speaking English coming down the path. Never have I been more excited to hear other people speaking my English. Even better one of them looked like he worked out. Like a lot. Like he could be a spokesperson for steroids. Not that I am implying that he did steroids. It’s just that I can’t imagine myself doing that much weight lifting.

“Where are you guys from?” I asked as they approached.

“Chicago,” the said, as his muscles rippled in the wind.

We all chitchatted about the travel pillars. Where have you been, where will you go, and for how long? All the while Brian, Laurys, and I trying to keep up with their much brisker pace. Brian having trouble with his sweaty Birkenstocks finally just taking them off.

That brisk pace takes us right past the two guys I thought might look suspicious. The odds then significantly stacked in our favor. Safety in numbers. I remember thinking that I understand why gangs exist. Were we a gang?

On the street we said goodbye to the steroids spokesman.

“Normally if I was alone, I would get an Uber,” Laurys said to me and Brian. “But since there are three of us, let’s just walk fast.”

We did just that. Brian struggled to keep up in his sweaty Birkenstocks. I looked over my shoulder constantly worried that the two guys are going to jump out at us now that we don’t have our ripped Chicagoan with us.

But we made it back to the hostel unscathed.

“So what did you guys do today?” The couple I met earlier asked.

“We took the teleferico up to Monserrate and then walked down.”

“Oh you definitely shouldn’t have done that, a lot of people get robbed there on the walk.”

“Not us,” I said.