Travel: Theatricals and Thieves in Bogota

PLENTY OF people get robbed in Bogot, and with one killing every hour, the Colombian capital is possibly the most murderous city in the world. So it is all the stranger, and oddly terrifying, that some villains indulge in theatrical robbery.

I had come from village life in Tobago, so on the afternoon of the robbery I am in the wrong frame of mind for a large South American city. I enter a bank and ask if I can change a traveller's cheque. The answer is no, but a man in a suit, who is reading a paper in the bank's foyer, says he knows where I can. "Man A" is middle-aged, rich-looking and friendly. He takes me to an Imex exchange bureau. I change the money while he waits.

As we leave, I am becoming suspicious. A couple of minutes later a man crosses in front of us and drops a large wad of pesos. This is "Man B". Man A picks it up. I think he is going to steal it so I approach Man B and tell him Man A has his money. He waves me away and walks in another direction. Man A now takes me into a cafe. I am befuddled, but think: "how typical - he wants a free meal for helping me." We sit down and ask for two drinks. I ask Man A his profession and he shows me his business card: furniture supplier. I believe him.

Man B comes in sweating and looking worried. He is wearing a suit and tie. He produces a small money bag with a zip and says his money fell out of it, and asks for it back. He shows an identity card for a public transport company and says it is their money. He asks Man A to show him his (Man A's) money. Man A produces a huge wad of pesos (it must have been more than $1,000 worth). Man B shouts at Man A: "There is more!" Man A then produces the wad dropped in the street, and hands it to Man B.

I begin to feel I have stumbled into a Gabriel Garca Mrquez story. Man B says: "I dropped more money!" Man A denies he has it, which I know is true since he has handed over all the money Man B dropped. Then Man B asks me to produce my money. I refuse. A policeman walks in and sits three tables away. The cafe is full. Man A and Man B become more heated. I'm nervous. I think: "I'll show Man B the money I got from Imex and the exchange receipt, and that will settle things."

I take out the receipt and my money, and count it out in front of him. Man B grabs it from across the table. I shout: "No!" Man B examines the wad and agrees that it is not his money. He appears to put my money in his money bag and hands it back. Man A and Man B get up and rush out.

At this moment I find that the bag does not open (the zip has been tampered with) and I realise I have been robbed. After 30 seconds I manage to open the bag and find a wad of worthless paper. The tourist police call Man A "El Contro", and say they cannot find him or his accomplice.