Day 1: Bogota, with no socks

Bogota (pic) is higher than I thought. About 2600m higher, in fact: it's the third-highest capital in the world, 8,300 feet up. It's tatty, but friendly and vibrant, so I feel quite at home.


I'm staying in La Candelaria, the atmospheric colonial quarter, a place full of bars and cafes and museums. I was delighted to see there are plenty of street vendors selling fresh fruit (pic): it means I can get my five a day in one go for 2000 pesos, about 60p.


As with many places, shops of a certain type are clustered together. Near my hostel are several places selling religious statues (pic), for instance. I can't get one in my backpack, as it's already full of my travel guitar. I remembered to bring that, but not socks, as I discovered this morning. So I spent this morning walking round until I found the Socks District, and am now back up to industry-standard levels of hosiery.


In the Plaza de Bolivar, home of the government, there were llama rides on offer (pic). I didn't take one, as they looked quite tall, my lungs are telling me I'm quite high up enough already.


I visited a couple of museums: the Museo de Oro, with an astounding amount of pre-Conquest Andean bling, and the Museo de Botero, celebrating Colombia's famous painter and sculptor Fernando Botero (1932- ). His style is to paint everything fat, with identical, narrow-nosed, tiny-eyed, moon faces: his Mona Lisa (pic), who like everyone else in his pictures has been seriously at the cream cakes, gives you an idea.

Talking of which, it's time for lunch, which my jetlagged stomach thinks is dinner. I'll think I'll have a local speciality, a stuffed arepa. When I find out what that is I'll let you know.