Bogota

I think this must be one of the most unfairly maligned places in the world - it´s actually quite a pleasant city, in a sprawling modern sort of way.

There´s plenty to do here. As well as the museum of gold, which was excellent, I´ve also been to the national museum - also great value at less than a dollar. It´s housed in the city´s old prison, so a lot of the exhibition space is in converted cells. The pre-conquest stuff was most interesting, but the rooms of oil paintings of Colombian national heroes were good fun - their nation´s history is written in facial hair. The founding fathers of the state were content with little caterpillar-like moustaches, sometimes teamed with modest sideburns. As the years rolled on these were joined by little goatees and connected with the side whiskers, which by now were prodigious. Eventually, towards the end of the 19th Century, the nation´s leaders become hard to tell apart. All the paintings show nothing more than pairs of beady little eyes glaring out from behind large thickets of hair and whiskers.

I´ve also been to the city´s main flea market, as well as to loads of smaller ones that fill all the little squares here. The mixture of stuff was fascinating, and included everything from English hunting prints to bakelite radios. I was walking round with a girl from Belgium and at one point she spotted a 1970s training shoe that she wanted to buy. "Where is the other?" she asked.

The stallholder looked a little sheepish. "There is only one, how much will you give me for it?" I had to admire the tenacity of the man - I really hope that one day he manages to find a left-footed amputee with a taste for vintage sportswear.

The full extent of the city only came home to me when I went up the 50-storey Colpatria Tower, which towers over the city at nearly 650ft. To the south, east and west the city stretches out to the horizon, while to the north it is hemmed in by steep green mountains.

Staying in the hostel, which is right in the centre, has been a lot of fun. As I mentioned before, every night somebody volunteers to cook a meal for everyone. Last night the Eritrean lads took their turn. Strange to see them here. They´re travelling around South America while one of their number waits for an operation in Cuba, they tell me. The food they cooked was fantastic and took me back to my time in Ethiopia. I don´t know what grub will be on offer tonight, but it could be Argentinian, Israeli, German, Swiss, French, Panamanian or even English.