Stag night

I´m still recovering from a very hectic weekend that got underway on Friday with a stag night for an English ex-pat here. Dave, variously known as Disco Dave or Dodgy Dave, is a geezer from Hitchen, Herts, who has been here for a couple of years and is tying the knot with a Bogotana next Saturday.

I´d like to tell you all sorts of hilarious stories about what went on, but I can´t remember. The evening started with a few beers at the hostel and then continued in the taxi with a bottle of rum, shared between Ozzy John, who I work with, German, the hostel owner, and myself. By the time we arrived at a Swiss chalet style restaurant on a mountain overlooking the city we were already on the wobble. We had been expected to eat, but instead more rum appeared.

Apparently we ended up in a girly bar called La Piscina, which had a swimming pool in the middle of it. Remarkably, I didn´t fall in - or at least my shoes were dry in the morning.

Saturday was also a heavy night. There had been a rumour that two former members of Talking Heads were playing a secret gig in an English pub in the north of the city. A few of us headed up there and were delighted to discover something that resembled British beer being sold by the pint. It took some time for the novelty to wear off. Sadly, the band didn´t include David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz or Gerry Harrison, but they were very good nonetheless. They were a classic London pub band who belted out aggressive cover versions of classic songs. I particularly liked their interpretation of Gloria Gaynor´s I Will Survive - which they transformed from the gayest song in the world into a rumbling belch of heterosexual rage.

By the way, the four lads got out of prison relatively unscathed. They were held in a courtyard without food or water until after midday, but weren´t directly mistreated. They did see some shocking sights though, including people being chained to goalposts and beaten with sticks. As the arresting officer said to Chappie as he bundled him into the van: "Estamos en Colombia" (we are in Colombia). Since their adventure they keep bumping into other chaps they were locked up with and so have a strange camraderie with the dregs of central Bogota. One thing I found quite sad was that the local simpleton got a beating. This chap just walks around the area all the time laughing to himself, waving at people and doing nobody any harm. To arrest him, let alone beat him up, smacks of malicious sadism. Perhaps it was because he looks so much like Prince Charles that they picked on him.