The first wonder of Colombia

Colombia | Anno 2024

 

Monday, March 11 | Bogotá – Zipaquirá – Villa de Leyva

Tuesday, March 12 | Villa de Leyva – El Infiernito – Ecce Homo – El Fόsil – Medellín

 

 

Monday, March 11 | Bogotá – Zipaquirá – Villa de Leyva

Excruciatingly slow, the traffic inches forward, five lanes wide, from one red light to the next. Even ambulances with blaring sirens are forced to conform to the crawling pace. Scooters weave fearlessly between cars and trucks, and cyclists brave enough to enter this imbroglio could be accused of having suicidal tendencies. Bogotá’s Monday morning rush hour certainly rivals that of other major cities.

Impressive pedestrian bridges span the wide boulevard, feeding a constant stream of bustling pedestrians from both sides as they head towards the islands in the middle of the roadway. There, along the central axis, two lanes are reserved for TransMilenio buses. But even they seem unable to escape the congestion. In both directions, they line up in a long, red procession of two- and even three-section buses, appearing to hinder each other more than anything else.

Be that as it may, with driver Andrei at the wheel, we gradually leave Bogotá behind. Huge flower greenhouses begin to appear and slide past the window. Day in and day out, fresh cut flowers are shipped by plane from here to Europe and the USA.

We will soon find out that one cannot truly be prepared for the salt cathedral of Zipaquirá

 

Our destination lies about forty kilometres north, at an elevation of 2 650 meters in the Eastern Cordillera. Tour guide Gabriel tries to prepare us for what awaits us there, but that is a futile effort. We will soon find out that one cannot truly be prepared for the salt cathedral of Zipaquirá. It is simply too grand, too stunning, too bizarre, and too unique.

At sufficiently high pressure and temperature, halite rocks behave like glacial ice, meaning they move under the influence of gravity

The enormous salt deposits in the plains of Zipaquirá were formed between 200 and 250 million years ago. About 30 million years ago, they were pushed to the surface by tectonic shifts. Today, it is believed they reach 2,5 kilometres deep. In fact, they are halite rocks, a form of rock salt with the same chemical composition as our table salt. At sufficiently high pressure and temperature, halite rocks behave like glacial ice, meaning they can become sufficiently plastic to be deformed and move under the influence of gravity.

As early as the 5th century BCE, the Muisca were engaged in salt mining. Salt was their most important export product, highly sought after not only as a flavour enhancer but primarily as a preservative to extend the shelf life of fresh food. They traded it for gold, which they used to create the fantastic artefacts we admired the day before yesterday at the Gold Museum in Bogotá.

The Spaniards also recognized the economic potential of these salt reserves. While the Muisca had only scraped the salt patiently, the Spaniards began to work with hammers and chisels.

However, true commercial exploitation of the salt deposits did not begin until 1815. From then on, tunnels were systematically excavated underground. Working conditions were unsafe. Toxic gases, explosions, and other accidents posed a constant threat to the miners. Every day they emerged from the mine alive was a reason to give thanks – making the sign of the cross, offering a small prayer, or lighting a candle for the Virgin of the Rosary of Guasá, the patron saint of miners.

Every day they emerged from the mine alive was a reason to give thanks

Zipaquirá – El Minero

This devotion led to the carving of a small underground chapel in 1932. An altar was present, adorned with the images of saints that the workers prayed to for protection before descending into the mine each morning.

In 2007, the salt cathedral was voted the first wonder of Colombia by the readers of the newspaper El Tiempo

In 1950, work began on a larger project – a subterranean salt cathedral dedicated to Our Lady of the Rosary, which was inaugurated on August 15, 1954. It was an impressive structure, featuring three naves and a monumental cross. However, it also had a glaring flaw that became increasingly evident in the 1980s: the cathedral was situated too close to the surface, causing infiltrating water to dissolve the salt and create significant safety risks. In September 1992, the government closed the old cathedral.

No worries, construction of a new cathedral had already begun, this time at a safe depth of 180 meters. The new sanctuary would be even grander and more imposing than its predecessor and would even feature a proper dome. After all, a cathedral without a dome – even if it is underground – is not acceptable.

The inauguration took place on December 16, 1995. In the ecclesiastical sense, it wasn't really a cathedral since it wasn't affiliated with a bishop. Nevertheless, the term Catedral de Sal had taken hold. Even today, an average of three thousand worshippers find their way to the underground sanctuary every Sunday to attend mass. This already speaks to its size. In 2007, the salt cathedral was voted the first wonder of Colombia by the readers of the newspaper El Tiempo, ahead of other landmarks like San Agustín.

Today, Zipaquirá owes its prosperity not only to salt but also to tourism. Everyone wants to see this stunning example of Colombian architecture. Just before ten, we also shuffle inside. A fairly long and slightly sloping corridor leads us downward. This is already a surprise because it feels more like a theme park or a casino as we descend, with the vibrant colours of the steel framework supporting the tubular tunnel.

It feels more like a theme park or a casino as we descend

Salt cathedral – Entrance

A significant walk brings us to the beginning of the Stations of the Cross, which will lead us beneath the dome. This experience is something special because the artists have opted for a strictly symbolic representation of Jesus' passion. Each of the fourteen stations is carved like a chapel into the halite rock, a process that took a total of five years.

However, no human figures are depicted as such. So there is no Jesus, no Mary, no Veronica, no Simon of Cyrene, and no Roman soldiers. Each time, a monolithic cross symbolizes the figure of Jesus, while the shape and texture of the grey stone help fill in the rest of the scene. Serene simplicity is the norm, except that the bright colours of the spotlights sometimes detract from the subtlety of the scenes.

The rock wall seems to tenderly touch the cross

IV – Jesus meets His Mother

A beautiful example of that sober symbolism is the fourth station, where the rock wall seems to tenderly touch the cross – a striking metaphor for the encounter between Jesus and his mother.

 

VI – Veronica wipes the face of Jesus

In the sixth station, where Veronica wipes the sweat and blood from Jesus' face, we only see a white discoloration in the stone. Hanging over the cross like a long veil, it reminds us of the famous cloth depicting Jesus' face.

Jesus falls three times, and three times we see the cross sinking a little deeper into the ground.

Two seemingly shapeless masses of stone on either side of the cross immediately evoke the image of the weeping women, hunched over in grief

VIII – Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem

Station VIII hardly needs any explanation, as the two seemingly shapeless masses of stone on either side of the cross immediately evoke the image of the weeping women, hunched over in grief, and being comforted by Jesus.

 

XII – Jesus dies on the Cross

As Jesus dies on the cross, we see a cross that barely emerges from the rock wall, as if it wants to return to its original state and become part of the halite rock again.

A cross-shaped hollow in the rock symbolizes the emptiness Jesus leaves behind

XIII – Jesus is taken down from the Cross

XIV – Jesus is laid in the tomb

When Jesus is taken down from the cross, we see not a monolithic cross but a cross-shaped hollow in the rock – symbolizing the emptiness He leaves behind.

Very peculiar is the rectangular block that juts out from the rock wall at the fourteenth station. Does this represent the tomb where Jesus’ body rested before He ascended to heaven? Or is it the bottom of His cross, as if it were being absorbed by the rock wall?

This brings us beneath the famous dome. However, it is not that impressive piece of architecture above our heads that captures our attention; it is the nave of the cathedral that immediately enthrals us. From here, we look down into that enormous space, 75 meters long and 18 meters high, entirely carved from the halite rocks.

 

Salt cathedral – Central nave

At the front, an enormous cross towers above the high altar. However, Gabriel emphasizes that this is not a real cross; it is a cross-shaped niche in the rock wall that is illuminated in a sophisticated manner. Four gigantic columns represent the four evangelists, on whose work the Church as an institution relies. The side walls of this immense space are rough and unrefined; there is no attempt to conceal that we are deep underground in a hollow.

Should we interpret this as a theme of free will?

The Creation of Adam

But the most remarkable feature is the round niche in the floor of the nave. Even from this height, we recognize the scene presented in the depths with life-sized marble figures. It is a copy of the Creation of Adam, a tribute to Michelangelo's world-famous fresco on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Vatican City.

God the Father extends His right arm to transfer the spark of life to Adam, who reaches out with his left arm to receive it. Their fingers almost touch, suggesting that the process of creation is still ongoing, as Michelangelo depicts it in the Sistine Chapel. However, here their fingers do touch. Does the artist mean to imply that he considers creation to be complete? Or should we interpret this as a theme of free will, as Gabriel suggests – the idea that humanity is no longer dependent on God but is now free to determine its own fate?

 

Chapel of the Virgin of the Rosary of Guasá

Via one of the stairways, we descend into the narthex, which grants us access to the cathedral. This enormous complex has three naves, but there is also a smaller, serene chapel dedicated to the Virgin of the Rosary of Guasá.

A white waterfall appears to flow down the high wall, symbolizing the Jordan River where Jesus was baptized

Baptistery

Pope Francis I

The left nave is dedicated to the birth of Jesus. The obligatory scene of Jesus' birth in a stable in Bethlehem is carved into the halite rock, complete with the ox and donkey. At the centre of the baptistery stands a baptismal font, also made of salt. However, it is no longer in use, because water and salt are not a good combination. Along the high wall, salt has crystallized into small, cauliflower-like structures, which have been left untouched. It appears as though a white waterfall is cascading down the wall, symbolizing the Jordan River where Jesus was baptized.

 

Birth of Jesus

Salmuera

Moving on to the central nave, which is dedicated to the life of Jesus. The structure feels somewhat familiar now, but we are still amazed by the enormous hollow cross, the four cylindrical pillars, and the rough side walls. The sacristy, however, is polished beautifully. You can even see the sequential geological layers of salt and rock. In the dim light, a modest statue represents Pope Francis I, who visited here in September 2017. But the iconic image of the Creation of Adam still garners the most attention.

At first glance, the basin seems to be meters deep, but in reality, it is only seven centimeters deep

The right side aisle is dedicated to the resurrection of Jesus. Gabriel immediately leads us to a water basin. At first glance, it seems unremarkable: a still water surface that perfectly reflects the surroundings. It creates the illusion that the basin is several meters deep, but in reality, it is only seven centimetres. This is salmuera, water saturated with salt – pure brine. In such basins, salt was once left to dry out.

 

Salt crystals

Traces of pneumatic hammers

On the ceiling, the traces of the pneumatic hammers once used to extract salt are still clearly visible. But that’s a thing of the past. Nowadays, high-pressure water is injected into the salt deposits, dissolving the salt. The mixture is pumped out, and the water is left to evaporate. This method allows for salt extraction up to a depth of two hundred meters.

These enormous galleries are wide enough that two small trucks could easily pass each other

 

The wonders are far from over. A series of parallel underground passageways have been developed into a sort of shopping centre. These enormous galleries are wide enough that two small trucks could easily pass each other. You stroll past restaurants, bars, souvenir shops, jewellers – you name it. It's like wandering through a shopping arcade in Bogotá.

Shortly after noon, we continue our journey. We're pleased to notice that there’s been a light rain while we were indoors, which we don’t mind as long as we ourselves stay dry.

 

 

Now, we head further north through the valley of the Río Suta, though at a slower pace than we’d like due to the heavy traffic. This is a key transport route, and heavily loaded trucks make full use of it. It’s also a fertile valley, with the area around the town of Ubaté being renowned as Colombia’s largest producer of cow’s milk.

After lunch, we pass the Laguna de Fúquene. For the Muisca, this heart-shaped lake was as sacred as the Laguna de Guatavita, where they performed the offering ritual during the inauguration of the zipa. Numerous temples once stood on the islands in the lake, and a demon is said to still reside underwater, ready to defend its domain.

However, the lake has lost much of its former glory. Irrigation for fields and pastures has lowered the water level, fertilization has ruined water quality, and water hyacinths are spreading uncontrollably. Add to this the devastating effects of El Niñowhich causes severe droughts, and you’re left with a significant environmental issue.

Past Chiquinquirá, our driver Andrei turns the vehicle eastward. We now see greenhouses for tomatoes and olives passing by the windows, along with grain fields, complete with water mills to grind the grain. Then, suddenly, we catch sight of a town nestled on a mountainside in the distance, a large white spot glowing in the evening sun. This is Villa de Leyva, our final destination for the day.

A remote place, high in the mountains, surrounded by almost desert-like terrain – it was of little interest to anyone. The major trade routes bypassed the town. Mining wasn’t an option either, as there were no minerals to be found in the area. In short, for four hundred years, time essentially stood still in Villa de Leyva, and the town saw all modern developments pass it by.

And that very drawback turned into an advantage

Villa de Leyva

And that very drawback turned into an advantage. Villa de Leyva has become one of the most beautiful colonial towns in Colombia. The town has managed to preserve its original colonial style. The central square and the streets are still paved with cobblestones, and many of the buildings date back to the 16th century. Various monastic orders have also established themselves here.

Military personnel, nobility, and clergy were among the first to rediscover the town. At the end of their careers, they often chose to retire here, enjoying their pensions far from the hustle and bustle of modern life. The nostalgic ambiance of traditional architecture, combined with a stunning view of the valley, made it an ideal retreat.

The homogenous character of the town centre is immediately striking

Villa de Leyva

Then came the tourists. On December 17, 1954, Villa de Leyva was declared a National Monument to protect its architecture from demolition. Since then, it has become one of Colombia’s most important tourist attractions.

 

Door knocker

Our bus rumbles over thick cobblestones as we navigate the narrow streets uphill. The homogenous character of the town centre is immediately striking. The traditional whitewashed houses are impeccably clean, and the beautifully crafted wooden windows, doors, and balconies are in excellent condition. Clearly, considerable effort is made to preserve the past.

 

Convento Carmelitas Delcalzas

Barba viejo (Spanish moss)

Just after five, we set out to explore the quiet streets. Villa de Leyva was founded in 1572 by the Spanish conquistador Hernán Suárez de Villalobos and currently has about 17 000 residents. Gabriel leads us past the Convento Carmelitas Descalzas, a cloistered convent where the Discalced Carmelite nuns live a life of work, prayer, solitude, and silence.

Without this heroic act, Venezuela’s war for independence might have taken a very different turn

Antonio Ricaurte

Gabriel does not hesitate to make a comparison with the famous battle of Thermopylae when he talks about the heroic act of Antonio Ricaurte. Though his exploit took place on Venezuelan soil, Ricaurte’s statue graces the Parque Antonio Ricaurte here in Villa de Leyva because this is the town where he was born. But it was Venezuela that financed the statue in his honour.

In 480 BCE, just 300 Greeks managed to hold off a vastly larger Persian force for a significant time in the pass of Thermopylae, none of them surviving. Captain Antonio Ricaurte performed a similar feat in 1814 against a superior Spanish force in San Mateo, Venezuela. But he did so alone. Realizing defeat was inevitable, Ricaurte ordered his men to retreat. He stayed behind, hiding in the powder magazine on Simón Bolívar’s estate. When the Spanish forces surrounded the building, Ricaurte detonated the gunpowder, sacrificing himself and a large portion of the Spanish troops. According to Gabriel, without this heroic act, Venezuela’s war for independence might have taken a very different turn.

 

With its vast dimensions of 120 by 120 meters, the Plaza Principal is said to be the largest paved town square in Latin America

Plaza Principal

With its vast dimensions of 120 by 120 meters, the Plaza Principal is said to be the largest paved town square in Latin America. Whether that claim is entirely accurate is hard to verify, but the gently sloping plaza is undeniably impressive.

 

Plaza Principal – Parish church

 

It is not only impressive because of its size, but also because of the spirit of a distant past that it evokes. Fully paved with cobblestones, it’s surrounded by beautiful colonial buildings and features a charmingly simple parish church, with the Morro Negro in the background. The vast open space is only interrupted by a small Mudéjar-style fountain in the centre. Inside the church, a Mass is being celebrated.

Some of the whitewashed houses turn out to have the walls at the bottom covered with such fossils

Marine fossils as wall coverings

Once again, walking through these atmospheric streets, we're reminded that this region was covered by an inland sea millions of years ago. As the sea dried up, it left behind salt deposits and fossilized remains of marine creatures. On closer inspection, some of the whitewashed houses turn out to have the walls at the bottom covered with such fossils. You would need thousands of them to dress a house in this way.

 

Parque Antonio Nariño

Door knocker

Another charming square is the Parque Antonio Nariño. Here, another distinguished citizen of Villa de Leyva is honoured with a statue. Or, to be more precise, with a bust. The honouree is Antonio Nariño, who once served as vice president of the fledgling, yet turbulent, Gran Colombia for a mere two months. Despite his short tenure, Nariño left a lasting legacy, as the presidential palace in Bogotá is still called Casa de Nariño.

While modern developments have largely passed Villa de Leyva by, the pleasures of life have clearly not

While modern developments have largely passed Villa de Leyva by, the pleasures of life have clearly not. At El Salón del Queso, a restaurant and cheese-making establishment, they serve a wide selection of excellent Belgian beers – Duvel, Liefmans, Stella Artois, to name a few.

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Tuesday, March 12 | Villa de Leyva – El Infiernito – Ecce Homo – El Fόsil – Medellín

Quarter to seven. Schoolchildren shuffle towards school in their uniforms, and men and women resignedly head into a new workday. It feels far too early to us, but Villa de Leyva lives according to the rhythm of the sun.

 

Villa de Leyva awakens

Plaza Principal with the Morro Negro in the background

Today, we return to Bogotá by bus, but first, a few local attractions are on the agenda. One of these is El Infiernito, an actual astronomical observatory. Officially named the Parque Arqueológico de Monquirá, it was the Spaniards who coined the nickname El Infiernito, or The Little Hell, shocked by what they perceived as phallic representations. In their eyes, anyone who depicted such obscenities was surely destined for hell – no doubt about it.

However, what the Muisca people erected here were not phalluses. Instead, it appears that this site was used for astronomical observations on one hand and fertility rituals on the other. The two rows of about fifty small menhirs in pink sandstone are aligned east to west, seemingly marking the spot where the sun rises over the mountains during the equinoxes. And just beyond that, from this vantage point, lies the sacred Laguna de Iguaque, which holds an important role in Muisca cosmology.

The mountain range on the eastern horizon is considered the cradle of humanity

El Infiernito – Row of stones with Cerro Iguaque in the background

In ancient times, the goddess Bachué is said to have emerged from this lake with a boy in her arms. She raised the child until he became an adult, and then married him. Together, they had children who populated the Earth. In short, the mountain range on the eastern horizon is considered the cradle of humanity. Once their task was complete, Bachué and her husband took on the form of a serpent and retreated back into the lake. It is believed that they still reside there to this day.

Charcoal remnants have enabled archaeologists to date El Infiernito. The rows of stones are about 2 200 years old. Like Stonehenge, the observatory is surrounded by a low earthen wall. The role of the larger, freestanding megaliths – the so-called phalluses that so angered the Spaniards – remains unclear.

For the Muisca, it was crucial to know when the transition from the dry season to the wet season was approaching

El Infiernito – Menhir

Every year at the end of March, heavy rains sweep across this region – though nowadays, with climate change and El Niño, it’s hard to predict, according to Gabriel. For the Muisca, it was crucial to know when the transition from the dry season to the wet season was approaching. Hence the importance of this megalithic monument.

Unfortunately, our visit turns out to be a disappointment. We arrive far too early, and the park isn’t open yet. One of the guards is already on duty, but he remains unyielding. From behind the fence, we try to get a glimpse of the site as best as we can.

The thriving presence of barba viejo indicates that the air quality on this hill is good

Barba viejo (Spanish moss)

We have better luck at the Convento del Santo Ecce Homo. This former Dominican convent, the oldest in the region, is beautifully situated on a hill overlooking a valley. Several tall trees are completely covered with long, grey strands. Gabriel refers to this as barba viejo, or old man's beard. In reality, it is Spanish moss, a plant that nests as an epiphyte on trees, drawing water and nutrients from them. It is not harmful to its host. However, the moss is very sensitive to air pollution. Its thriving presence here indicates that the air quality on this hill is good.

 

Convento del Santo Ecce Homo

As is often described in legends, the founding of this convent was said to have originated from a dream. In this dream, a certain Catherine of Saint Bartholomew was commissioned to build a monastery. Her brother, Juan de Mayorga Casallas, generously provided an estate with several buildings for this purpose.

Yet, there is a dark side to this story

The goal was to offer the oldest members of the Dominican community a retreat in a location with a mild climate, and if possible, to do so at minimal cost. On March 15, 1620, the foundation was laid. However, it would take another thirty years before construction began on the church, cloister, and auxiliary buildings that we can now visit.

 

Mudéjar style church

Refectory

Yet, there is a dark side to this story. The convent owes its name to a painting of the Ecce Homo, depicting Jesus after he was flogged and crowned with thorns. It was Juan de Mayorga Salázar, the father of Juan and Catherine, who brought this painting from Europe. It had been seized by the German-Spanish troops of Emperor Charles V during the horrific sack of Rome in May 1527. The fact that Christian troops, numbering 25 000, indulged in plundering, destruction, desecration, rape, and murder in the Holy City sent shockwaves throughout Europe. The events were later described as worse than the sack of Rome by the Visigoths in 410.

 

Library

Armillary sphere

Today, there is no trace of that turbulent time. The painting in question was even stolen in 1909. The Dominicans are no longer present, and the convent now offers a variety of contemporary services – liturgical, spiritual, cultural, and tourist-oriented. Several rooms have been set up as a museum.

The horrific sack of Rome in May 1527 sent shockwaves throughout Europe

Through the gateway, we enter a tranquil patio, an oasis of peace in Tuscan Renaissance style. In the centre stands a four-meter-deep well, a reference to Jacob's well where Jesus met the Samaritan woman. The well is of very recent date; it was only excavated in 1966.

 

You might not notice it, but the floor plan of this patio is not rectangular

Patio in Tuscan Renaissance style

You might not notice it, but the floor plan of this patio is not rectangular. On three sides, there are eight pillars, while there are nine on the fourth side. This brings the total number of pillars to 33, the age of Jesus when he died.

 

Water well

Petrified fossil of a giant snake

The church, built in Mudéjar style, is dominated by an impressive altarpiece. Against the side wall, we see a statue of Christ on the cross on an enormous pedestal, completely covered with small marine fossils.

 

Pedestal covered with marine fossils

Fossils of small sea creatures are apparently readily available in this region. But what about fossils of larger sea creatures? The Museo Comunitario El Fósil has a ready answer to that question. In 1977, a local farmer named Samuel Vargas discovered the enormous fossil of a Monquirasaurus, a creature that lived in the water 110 to 115 million years ago and can best be described as a giant crocodile with fins.

Rather than prying these fossilized bones from the rocky ground, they simply built a museum over them. Elisabeth guides us through the museum and emphasizes that this project was entirely initiated by the local community and funded independently. The government had no involvement whatsoever.

Rather than prying these fossilized bones from the rocky ground, they simply built a museum over them

Monquirasaurus – Petrified fossil

We know by now that this area was once covered by a sea a hundred million years ago. It must have been about two hundred meters deep, and palaeontologists refer to it as the Paja Sea. After its death, our Monquirasaurus sank to the seabed, where its fossil was excellently preserved; there are no traces of scavengers that would have feasted on the carcass. This is because the Paja Sea contained a lot of sulfuric acid and no oxygen at great depths, creating a hostile environment for any form of life. Gradually, the fossil became increasingly covered with mud and was slowly turned to stone due to the immense pressure.

 

Monquirasaurus – Fossil skull

In life, this Monquirasaurus was a fearsome predator. This is evident from its teeth, which measured 25 to 30 cm long. Its enormous head, 2,7 m long, allowed it to swallow large prey – such as a human, if they had existed at that time – in one bite. In the Paja Sea, it was at the top of the food chain, no doubt about that.

From the tip of its nose to the start of its tail vertebrae, it measured 7,3 m, indicating that it was an adolescent. Adult specimens could grow to lengths of 12 m or more and could live for 70 to 80 years. The reason why this young one met its end so early is unknown.

Despite its appearance, this reptile was probably more closely related to lizards and snakes than to crocodiles

The northwest of South America, 110 to 120 million years ago, with Paja Sea

Monquirasaurus (artistic impression)

The Monquirasaurus was a reptile, but despite its appearance, it was probably more closely related to lizards and snakes than to crocodiles. It certainly did not have legs, as it lived full-time in the water. However, it did have lungs for breathing. Like today’s whales and dolphins, it had to come to the surface regularly to breathe.

The Paja Sea must have teemed with these molluscs in their characteristic coiled shells

Fossil fish scales		Fossil of ammonite
Marine fossils		Imprints of fossilized plant remains

Although the Monquirasaurus may be the main attraction of this museum, the display cases are filled with countless other, albeit smaller, fossils – bones of a dolphin-like ichthyosaurus, tube worms, imprints of fossilized plant remains, and fish scales, among others. There is a particular abundance of ammonites. This is not surprising, as the Paja Sea must have teemed with these molluscs in their characteristic coiled shells. Many fossils have disappeared to the USA, Elisabeth sighs, and attempts are being made to retrieve them, though possibly in vain.

 

 

During lunch in Villa de Leyva, we enjoy the incomparable atmosphere of the Plaza Principal one last time. Then, driver Andrei sets off for Bogotá. We pass the Puente de Boyacá, the place where Bolívar decisively defeated the Spaniards on August 7, 1819. Shortly after, the independent Gran Colombia was founded. Various monuments, a statue, and many flags commemorate this event. The historic bridge, which is essentially nothing more than a narrow footbridge, still stands.

 

 

It is nearing five o'clock when we reach the outskirts of Bogotá. The evening rush hour has already gripped the bustling metropolis. The antics of cyclists and motorcycles weaving between the cars and trucks are hallucinatory scenes. Just before six, we arrive at El Dorado Airport. A quick bite from a hotdog stand satisfies our hunger.

In the night’s darkness, we land at around a quarter to nine at José María Córdova International Airport. Our familiar driver Ferney is there waiting for us with his bus, standing like a rock in the surf. He will play a crucial role during our city visit, though we do not know it yet.

We quickly dive into the Túnel de Oriente, an over eight-kilometre-long tunnel that connects the airport to the city. Suddenly, millions of lights appear in the darkness on the right side. That is Medellín, once the capital of crime.

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Jaak Palmans
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