I left Salento with Niamh and eventually Noreen in a hurry for Bogota to check out “ROCK EL PARQUE”. Which is a huge, three day music event paid for by the city. In its 15th year now and still going stong, and I thought it would be a fun intro to Bogota. Ironically, we didnt make it. There are several reasons why we never got around to joing the hundreds of thousands but the best one is the over the top hospitality of a Colombian family in the suburbs of Bogota.
Niahm (pronounced Neeve) has a good friend back in Dublin who put her in touch with his family here. We made plans to go to a famous spot called “Andres Carne de Res” and decided to meet at their house for a few drinks before heading out. A 40 minute or so cab ride from Bogota later, we arrived to the gated home of this family. We were met by the father, (a succesful plastic surgeon), his lovely wife (an acupuncturist) and their two youngest of five; rediculously perky, identical twin, 19 year old girls (proudly displaying their fathers handiwork). The Aguagardiente (anis flavored grain alcohol) immediately began flowing and they were beyond happy to entertain such a good friend of their sons. The minutes turned to hours and one by one, friends of the sisters began showing up. Bottles upon bottles of Aguardiente and several fried empanadas later, we were antsy to check out Andres and leave the smokey kitchen full of drunken interrogators of our travels. Not soon enough were on our way, in two car loads of kids ranging in age from 18 to 20.
“Andres Carne de Res” is a Colombian institution. About 15 years ago it was just a middle of nowhere steak joint owned by an eccentric guy, Andre. Now, its like a T.G.I. Fridays on acid compound with $20 cocktails and a loyal crowd of tourists and locals alike. Its sensory overload immediately with low ceilings full of bric a brac and bizarro artifacts. All drinks come served in coconuts or giant glasses that are too heavy to even hold. Bowls of complimentary fresh and exotic fruits lay on every surface and masks from the sexy to grotesque are handed out as party favors. These very rich and slightly obnoxious teenagers kept passing us drinks to try and demanded we sip from yet another bottle of Aguaguardiente. The whole scene was body shots level frat house but also a lot of fun. The staff really encourages people just to go nuts. I avoided dancing on table tops but getting down in donkey and tiger masks and gorging ourselves on fruity cocktails was a blast. At last call, hundreds of paper hearts rain from the ceiling and the whole place just heaves with kitsch. They even have ¨Guardian Angels¨ who drive you and your friends home for about $70. One of the friends of the twins was the designated driver so we all had to cram into one car and go back to their place. The party was no where near ending at the house and more bottles of Aguaguardiente were introduced. It is because of this night, if I never drink it again, it will be too soon. Anyway, all of us nearing blinding drunk, woke up the parents and the dad was more than happy to come down and join the party. He is one of those kind of creepy parents you read about in newspapers who seem to live vicariously through his children and was beyond irritating in his demanding more rounds of shots and dancing. We had a mini Michael Jackson memorial in the kitchen by dancing to the hits and were sort of forced to entertain them as they kep the video camera rolling. Sometime around 4 or 5 am, the dad and I were salsa dancing, me in bare feet and him in my scarf, all of which is now documented. The highlight though was when one of the twins went to the garage for the two duffle bags of musical instruments. Everyone was handed at least one instrument (I got the maracas) and we jammed in the kitchen like a bunch of tone deaf, rhythmically challenged drunkards. It was a great moment but at this point, the sun was well in the sky and I was exhausted. Despite the heckling and peer pressure, I snuck away and found a bed in one of the spare rooms.
Noreen woke me at noon. We were all in bad shape and starving but since no one else was awake we didnt want to be rude and start foraging in their kitchen. We tried to make stirring noises and loudly as possible but to no avail. We watched ¨The Commitments¨in its entirety and the girls day dreamed about an Irish breakfast. I would have settled for coffee and a toothbrush. Anyway, around 2 the dad woke up and made us coffee and the saltiest eggs I have ever tasted to date. The girls got up around 4 and at this point we were just desperate to leave. The last band of the last day went on at 7 and at this pace and being an hour from Bogota there was no way we were making it. To add icing to the cake, the dad had sent someone for the ingredients for ajiaco. A soup which is the national dish in Bogota. I had mentioned the night before that I wanted to try it before I left the city so the dad took it upon himself to make it for me, claiming his was stellar. Ajiaco is not a simple soup so as you can imagine, we didn´t even taste it until 6. At this point, we had been with these people for about 20 hours and I was starting to feel trapped. Being in the clothes from the nigt before didnt help with that feeling and I was on the verge of tears wanting to leave. We continually threw hints into the conversation and kept using Rock El Parque as an excuse. That backfired completely when the mom suggested we all go together and the twins will drive us. They got horribly lost and by the time we were back in Bogota it was almost 8. They still wanted to go despite the fact that the concert was over and hundreds of thousands would be vacating the park. I said ¨no fucking way¨ and as soon as we pulled up in front of the hostel, I wished them luck getting home, thanked them graciously and dipped out. Noreen and Niahm joined my lead and we left them in the street looking hurt and rejected. They suggested going for a beer and we just said no. I felt terrible but I really couldnt take another minute.
The next day I left Bogota. Great museums though…
