We arrived home yesterday evening from our two day road trip north into the mountains of the Colombian state of Boyacá.

About an hour out of town we stopped at Puente de Boyacá, the site of Simon Bolivar’s defeat of the Spanish gaining independence for Colombia in 1819. [Ann was in heaven]. There German paid for three of us to use the toilets there (25 cents each). Mary did not use the facilities and German insists she gets a free visit in the future. After a lunch in the town of Duitama and sampling for the first time robalo, a fish of the area, we continued on to Lago de Tota. This is a large lake 160 miles from Bogotá. The two lane road, with a multitude of trucks traveling at a rather not-rapid rate of speed, made for slow travel. Up over a mountain pass with an elevation in excess of 10,000 feet we dropped down about five hundred feet to our hotel, The Pozo Azul Resort – ending with a final half a mile down a single track, VERY deeply rut infested dirt road with a severe downward slope to the lake.

Now, this lake and hotel are not at the end of the world but, as the saying goes, you can see it from there. This is where the road ends. We were the only ones there that night and enjoyed the late afternoon and evening by relaxing, reading, watching a soccer match on a poor-reception TV and drinking Aguardente, the Colombian fire water, by the coal fire in the fireplace. This elevation really hit me hard. Even walking down to the lake, about 100 feet straight down and back, winded me like nothing I had experienced in Bogota.

Next morning we arose and after breakfast drove to three rural towns – Mongui, Nobsa and Villa de Leyva. Germán and I spent a lot of time watching the ladies shopping the local products in small shops. Mongui produces soccer balls, Nobsa is for wool and Villa de Leyva is an artistic community. Lunch was at the Duryelo Hotel on the second floor outside balcony overlooking the town and valley beyond. This day began a three day astronomy event and the town was filling up with tourists and their telescopes. The weather had turned cloudy – “sucks for them”, as Mary so eloquently put it.

We drove home in the dark following one slow moving truck after having just passed a slow moving truck on winding roads. Germán is a true professional at Colombian driving.

Today was the Saturday morning golf date with Germán and his group of 24. What an amazing experience. To say this weekly “tournament” is organized would be an understatement. Bets are made: individually against the field, as a four man team versus the other groups and each player can have a bet with any other or all of the other 23. Each group appears as an entourage as it moves down the fairway from the first tee with the eight – four golfers and four caddies in each pack. The true golf adventure begins after the round ends and bets are paid in the club bar over beers, chips, laughing, whining, gloating and the passing across the long table of huge denomination bills for small amounts. There are literally hundreds of bets that need figuring and paying. I shot an 80 and won $19,000 (8 USD)

Ann and Mary came to the club for a pedicure and to meet us after the round. From the club we drove to a restaurant for lunch. Reservations were for 3:00 and an absolute necessity. We drove to an area further north of town to the restaurant, Andres Carne de Res. This restaurant cannot be explained properly without having experienced it personally. My gosh, where to begin?

This is a Colombian steak house with a vaquero atmosphere of wood tables and benches. At three in the afternoon the place was crowded. The restaurant extends a full city block with almost no room to move between tables – which are in every conceivable nook and cranny. The décor is early junkyard done eclectically. There is not a space on the walls or room to hang anything more from the ceilings. A troupe of players performs a bullfight scene on the dance floor every hour or so mimicking the stylized Spanish event. There is a bull in costume, toreador, picador and Spanish senoritas with their fans with bold colored dresses. When not performing on one of the dance floors, they wander around the tables causing general confusion and hilarity. Raucous Colombian and salsa music plays continuously creating a party feel. After 9:00 or so this restaurant becomes a dance club and bar for the younger patrons with a cover charge.

We spent three and a half hours there with Mary and Germán, Bernardo, Blanca and their adult son Christian, and Arturo and Lisette with their adult daughter Lisa. The food was spectacular: Char broiled steaks and an assortment of appetizers, condiments and desserts of Colombian origin. Beer was in the form of Refajo – beer mixed in a pitcher with Colombiana, a local soft drink of rather interesting flavor. Also, the omnipresent Aguardente bottle appeared compliments of Germán. After the food, coffee, of course was served. This is not an inexpensive place to eat by Colombian standards. The total bill with tip was $650,000 or 310 USD for the ten of us. For 31 dollars per person for this excellent meal with constant entertainment was a steal by American standards. More so by being the guests of the Pereira clan.

Tomorrow will be another round of golf with Germán and the gang but this time at the second course, the more difficult one at his club.