It’s high time for a good news story from Bogota: it’s not all prostitutes and tramps scuffling the rozzers. In fact, I’ve hardly seen a Colombian “Belle de Jour” or a fight since our first night here. Tramps and police are everywhere. We even saw a bum's bum.
On Saturday night, we went out for a posh dinner at Leo Cocina y Cava, “a concept-restaurant offering Colombian dishes in an evolved manner”. It was much better than it sounds.
Keen to try something that we wouldn’t usually have at home, we ordered tuna sealed with big-arsed ants, sea bass with black rice drenched in snail stew, and red snapper with chiripiangua, ginarron and poleo (this last was Susi’s order, she says it was “seafoody”).
As this is not a food blog, I won’t bang on about the meal. Except to say it all looked beautiful, the service was great, the menu was innovative, everything was prepared perfectly… And yet, somehow, it didn’t carry me off on the waves of delight I’d wished.
Perhaps I should have ordered on the basis of what I actually wanted to eat.