It has been difficult to get this posted and get the pictures in. I can't seem to edit the previous posts at this time so I will try to just bring everything up to date with a few pictures.

Saturday, September 12
After sleeping through our alarm and not getting our pre-arranged wake-up call, we woke at 7:11 and needed to be at the train station at 8am. We managed to make it (and even had a cab driver who knew how to find it, picked up a morning snack and coffee and, at 8:30 boarded the train for Zipaquira. Finding a coach which was almost empty, we claimed seats on either side for good photo opportunities, not realizing that we were supposed to be in assigned seats in another car.

We set off from Bogota through one of the more depressed areas- large crammed-in apartment complexes and houses little more than shacks. Sadly, in the grass alongside the tracks were a series of homeless structures (most look like cardboard or tires covered with tarps) and a step down people wrapped in blankets lying out in the open. This, in an area that regularly gets down into the low 40s at night during the summer.

At the next station, a group of people boarded the train and we were sitting in their seats, so we needed to move into the car ahead. When we got there two elderly senoras were sitting in our seats and we did not see any other available seats. Dick tried to put my backpack into the rack overhead but it rolled out and right onto the elder of the two ladies. We apologized profusely and the train police seated us in the front of the car. Dick cut his finger on my bag which bled all over everything including, we found out at the Zipaquira station, the elderly lady he had bonked with the case.

Zipaquira is a pretty little town with the requisite cathedral. We boarded the tour bus to the Salt Cathedral, up the hill from the town. The cathedral was built in the old salt mine, primarily to give the miners, who spent days underground in a deadly occupation, a cathedral . It was open to the public in 1995 and is a powerful sight. In the side-passages which lead off of the main line, 190m below ground, , they have built thirteen stations of the cross and three naves which are huge domed structures with pews, altars and crosses. They are proud to claim the second-largest cross in the world. Then they quietly insert, “Under ground.” Salt mining continues and it is estimated that the reserves will last another 500 years.

When we finished the tour, we found that there is no bus from Zipaquira to Tunja, our next bus exchange to go to Villa Leyva. The tour bus driver detoured off his route in Cajica to take us to the station from which our bus departed and we were on our way, arriving in Villa Leyva at around 3pm. The Colombian bus drivers are no different than those we have seen in Central America, in a word “crazy”. It is a bit unnerving to see them cross themselves as they pass a slow- (or worse, fast)-moving truck on a blind curve. However, a difference between Colombia and other countries is the relatively cleanliness of the roads and cities. Gone are the miles and miles of plastic bags and bottles.

Villa Leyva is a strikingly beautiful town built around a huge central plaza. For an area of about three blocks around the plaza all roads are cobblestones including the plaza itself. We had a double room, which included a full breakfast, at a charming little hotel, Hospederia La Roca, for COP$80 (about $40 USD). We walked around the plaza and found various street performances occurring by the cathedral. For dinner, at Mr. Coqui’s, we had a traditional Colombian stew, Ajiaca, made with a variety of veggies and chicken. It was outstanding.