Even long journeys eventually come to an end.
The eternal dilemma
Today is one of those last days again. As always they are a mixture of joy and sadness.
The prospect of good bread and coffee, pasta tasting like pasta and not cardboard, a hot bath, drinking water from the tap, heated rooms when it's cold, and all the other things you had to do without for two months is really tempting.
And of course the most important thing: to finally take my sweet princess Mila in my arms!
But there is also another feeling, that of having to leave something that you really don't want to leave. The irrepressible joie de vivre of this continent, the friendliness of the people, their creativity, their musicality, their cheerfulness despite dire circumstances.
This lightness of being, the easygoing way of life, which is so different from our familiar life, drifting from one anxiety to the next. One recognizes other patterns of life here, less focused on prosperity, money, security and material values than in our ossified West.
So I have another good 6 hours ahead of me, which I want to devote one last time to the city I have grown fond of (because checkout time is 12.00, the flight leaves in the evening at 20.15). For this purpose the visit of the Gold Museum seems to be ideal.
The Gold Museum
The lady at the cash register gives me a long look and inquires about my age.
Then she nods and hands me a free ticket. Tercera Edad, meaning third age, so you don't have to pay anything. It's a strange feeling. Third age? But when I look in the mirror and see this bearded, rather feral face, I recognize not only the third but rather fourth or last age.
During the trip I was offered to do a project for an old client (which I can not resist), so next week at the latest it means to get back into a more acceptable appearance. Gray-white hipster beard gone, hair finally cut again, put on decent clothes ...
My God, I'm already feeling very different ...
The Museo del Oro exhibits pre-Columbian findings, mostly made of gold. The museum was founded 1939 by the Banco de la República de Colombia, to protect the archaeological heritage of the country.
The collection of pre-Columbian gold objects is unique in the world and is considered the largest of its kind (35.000 pieces). The exhibits also include objects made from clay, stone, shells, wood and textiles.
The gold museum turns out to be a very positive surprise.
Since art is closer to me than artifacts from prehistoric times, I tend to prefer art houses to museums, but what is exhibited here with exceptional care and creativity deserves the highest recognition and respect.
Numerous people are present, many families with children crowd in front of the countless showcases. What surprises me most, no one stands in front of the artworks and takes a selfie (remember the visits to Indian museums, where an estimated thousand selfies are taken per visitor, while the artworks are completely irrelevant).
The exhibits are looked at with grave seriousness, the visitors stop for a long time, read the accompanying texts, explain to the children what is it about, answer their questions. Nothing of that Indian ignorance (sorry, Indians, it needs to be pointed out), but rather an astonishingly civilized, cultivated way of approaching one's own past and its legacies.
Bayern Munich vs. Real Madrid
Outside the museum it starts to rain as a farewell, of course like from buckets, the umbrella is in the backpack, so I sit down in a restaurant, drink a coffee that tastes more like elephant piss than coffee, and watch the Champions League soccer match Bayern Munich against Real Madrid, so plague against cholera, whereby cholera wins 2:1.
Which I mind a little less than if the plague had won.
The end
And then the evening arrives, a wistful farewell to Sandra and her hotel, the cab is waiting outside. It takes me for the last time through the now familiar streets, I give them last glances, while I feel my heart getting heavy. I doubt that I will make it to this wonderful, unique, lonely continent one more time. Sometimes you realize that getting old is really a bitch.
The only thing remaining, as always, are the memories. They will accompany me, they have become part of me. With time they will change, perhaps one or the other will be forgotten, but everything important - the cheerfulness of the people, their love of life, their creativity, but also the unspeakable poverty, the misery of the poor population - will remain.
That's how it should be.
Until next time …
Mileage: 10118
Matching Song: Red Hot Chili Peppers - Goodbye Angels
And here the journey ends ... but it continues ... in Nepal
And that's them Booksthat I read on the trip.
