Usaquen and Hot Springs

Latin America is often known for having many holidays, and Colombia definitely falls into this category. My third weekend here was a puente (holiday weekend) which allowed me to go exploring. My housemate and I decided to spend our Sunday touring Usaquén, a colonial town that has now been absorbed by the sprawl of Bogotá. We took the bus up the Septima, which is the main north-south artery through the city. On Sunday the city shuts down one half of the street to cars so that Colombians can walk, bike or run for miles and miles (known as Ciclovia). As we headed north, I enjoyed watching the couples, families, dogs and cyclists take advantage of the sunny afternoon.
                                    
We stepped off the bus arriving in Usaquén. Immediately the difference between the northern sprawl of Bogotá and this once colonial town was astounding. It felt as though we had left Bogotá altogether. The streets were lined with old buildings, churches and stand after stand of artesian crafts. Colombia is still recovering from its old identity as a drug ridden, violent place. Although the country's face has changed drastically from the 1990's, many tourists are still wary of traveling to Colombia. However this is changing, slowly but surely there is an increase of foreignors traveling or moving to Colombia. In Usaquén, I easily felt as though I was in Buenos Aires or Sevilla. Person after person passed by speaking French, English or Chinese. Street performers seranaded us with traditional Colombian music, dogs performed tricks and then ran through the crowd with baskets in their mouths asking for donations, people dressed as statues held still as stone until you threw in a few pesos, then bounced to life for a minute startling the passersby. Bertille and I enjoyed perusing through the various shops, trying on jewelry, touching hand woven blankets and tasting the various desserts.

 

On Monday, some Fulbrighters and I decided to take a trip out of the big city. We were all tired of the cold, rainy weather and therefore concluded that some hot springs were exactly what we needed. We gathered when it was not bright, because it was rainy and gross, but still early (9am) at the bus station. We walked up and down the aisle, being hawked by various bus drivers "Gringas van a Villa de Leyva?" "Oye, Suesca, Suesca, Suesca 12 mil" o "Chicos vamos a Chia" as if we would wander around the bus terminal to see who could convince us which would be the best city to visit. We found our bus to Choconta and hopped on. The five of us climbed comfortably into our reclining seats, watching as the bus driver slowly creeped out of town, asking any passersby if perhaps they wanted to make a spontaneous trip to Choconta. (There were no takers). We began the journey out of Bogotá where the city faded into pastures and small towns. Midway into the drive, we made a very quick stop at a restaraunt, where a waitress came running out with a boxed meal to pass off to the driver. I was impressed that they could coordinate such a handoff to occur in less than 2 minutes. One hour later the driver pulled to the side of the highway and directed us up a dirt road. "Just walk about 15 minutes that way and you should find the hot springs." Like cows being led to pasture, we ambled up the road passing the obvious parking lot and continuing towards the wandering chickens and sheep. After 10 minutes of walking up the muddy, rutted road, avoiding stray dogs and being avoided by the roosters and hens, we came across a nice couple who told us to turn around and go back to where we started. After our quick detour, we found the very obvious entrance and made our way to the hot springs.

The hot springs were in the bottom of a lush, beautiful valley. Beside the pool was a rushing river and up above on the green, flowering hilltop was a waterfall. Along with the view of the incredible landscape were the great people watching opportunities. There were men in speedos, women wearing tights under their bikins, babies in floaties, girls with jean shorts on (in the pool), shirts written in English that said things like "Number one beautiful, spectacular hottie", and more chest and back hair than I have seen in a year.  Surrounding the springs was farmland where alpacas and turkeys wandered in  harmony. The adopted pets of the resort were a mangy rooster and a friendly, crippled parrot. They seemed to enjoy all the attention and treats the tourists fed them. We relaxed and sweated until our fingers and toes were wrinkled. By four we decided to make our way back to Bogotá before it got too dark. Not quite so easily or comfortably we eventually flagged down a bus on the main road. Full of people, we squeezed onto the bus giving up any hope of relaxing in a seat and taking a nap. We clutched our backpacks and the seats besides us, and got to know our neighbor standing beside us in the aisle of the bus very well. Lurching forward, backward and side to side we slowly made the hot, uncomfortable ride home. Three hours later I found myself happily home where I climbed into my bed and had one of my deepest sleeps in some time.