Expectations vs. reality in Colombia

Sean and I spent 19 days in Colombia, and it surprised us at every turn. We read plenty of blogs and talked to friends who’d gone before us, but our actual on-the-ground experiences almost never matched what we’d been told. Most of the time, the reality of the places we visited vastly exceeded our expectations; a couple of times, not so much.

A word of warning: You’re going to find a few heaping helpings of honesty below. I’m not trying to yuck any yums; I’m just calling it like we saw it. As always, your thoughts and opinions may vary. With that, let’s start at the very beginning of our Colombian journey (a very good place to start):

Cartagena

Expectation: The internet has nothing but glowing things to say about Cartagena, a colorful walled city on Colombia’s Caribbean coast. It’s so hyped by popular bloggers and travel publications that Sean just knew it was going to be his favorite place in Colombia.

Reality: It was not. While the architecture is absolutely stunning, nothing else about Cartagena appealed to us. The streets of the colonial old town are lined with run-of-the-mill beach shops and packed with honking taxis. Cruise ships regularly belch thousands of passengers onto the narrow sidewalks. We couldn’t take more than ten steps without someone shoving a menu in our faces, shouting at us to buy tours, or trying to sell us agua y cerveza. Nothing seemed authentic, scams were abundant, and we felt like human ATM machines.

It’s also shockingly expensive (we spent almost twice as much on a room in Cartagena than in gorgeous Paros, Greece!) and hotter than the surface of the sun. After just two hours on a morning walking tour, our clothes were soaked through.

Theoretically, you could cool off at the beach, but all the closest options are dingy and full of absolutely relentless vendors. Better beaches are either ten minutes or two hours away by boat, but we heard they had the same vendor problem, and we were so disillusioned by the general expense and scamminess of Cartagena that we didn’t care to risk negotiating the trip.

Mercifully, our room was comfortable and air conditioned, so we spent a lot of time in it wondering what we were missing. (We reckon Cartagena appeals to die-hard beach goers and people who relish the energy of crowds. Sean and I are neither.) After just a couple of hours in the city, I found myself googling “didn’t like Cartagena” so we wouldn’t feel so alone.

Help! We’re being swept away in a sea of cars and people

The sweetest validation came after we left: Nearly every other traveler we talked to in Colombia felt the same way. They got out of Cartagena as fast as they could. They cancelled non-refundable reservations to avoid going back. It’s a very popular vacation destination among locals, but we even met two Colombians who could commiserate: Oscar in Salento said he feels ripped off there, and the only words Sebastian in Medellín could muster about it were “very hot.” Indeed!

Love it or hate it, but you gotta admit: Cartagena is good for the ‘gram

Santa Marta/Tayrona National Park

Expectation: The coastal city of Santa Marta and nearby Tayrona aren’t especially easy to get to, and they’re not nearly as high profile as Cartagena and Medellín. We figured we’d find a quaint, quiet town to chill in and an undiscovered jungle to explore.

Reality: Santa Marta is an interesting paradox. On one hand, it’s backpacker’s paradise and a lot of fun. The tourist section is full of tasty expat-owned restaurants, the buildings are adorned with street art and strings of Edison bulbs, and the streets are clean and pedestrian only. (Take note, Cartagena.)

But it was also the place where Colombia’s tourist trail was the most apparent to us. Sure, three blocks in the middle of the city were trendy and spotless, but that island of high-priced pizza and top 40 hits was surrounded by rivers of trash and boatloads of poverty.

On our way to Santa Marta from Cartagena, we drove past cinder block shanty towns that were stewing in standing water and old diapers. We weren’t staying in a five-star resort by any means, but we still felt strange about our air conditioned hotel room and our Disney Channel access.

Our time in nearby Tayrona got off to an uncertain start. Masses of people arrived when we did, and for the first 30 minutes that we were in the park, our “remote hike” was more like a single-file line to the beach. But once the hoards dispersed, Tayrona really shined. We walked under palm tree canopies, dodged falling coconuts, and watched little indigenous girls feed monkeys.

Field of palm trees, Tayrona National Park, Colombia

The little girls were trying so hard to feed a monkey (they eventually succeeded)

Sure, the beach was a little crowded, and the heat was as oppressive as it was in Cartagena, but the scenery more than made up for it.

Cabo San Juan, Tayrona National Park, Colombia

Guatapé

Expectation: Everyone—and I mean everyone—suggests visiting the lakeside town of Guatapé as a day trip from Medellín. It’s a pretty way to spend a couple of hours, but not worth a long stay. Or so they say.

Reality: The Medellín airport is halfway between Medellín and Guatapé. After we flew in from Santa Marta, we figured it’d be more efficient to go straight to Guatapé and spend the night rather than backtrack past the airport on a day trip from Medellín. And thank goodness we did, because Guatapé was AWESOME.

The vibe was much more relaxed than on the coast, which we welcomed after six days in people-y party cities. It’s also a very small town that’s easily walkable, super safe, and extremely well taken care of. And the attractions! Oh, the attractions! Guatapé is full of colorful houses (its claim to fame) and lively zócalos (center squares).

There’s also a massive rock on the outskirts that offers great views of the lake. (We foolishly walked to it from town and then suffered the 700 steps to the top. God bless the tuk-tuk driver who brought us back!)

The lakes and islands surrounding Guatapé

After the daytrippers left Guatapé, we didn’t see a single gringo. It was just us and Colombians on the boardwalk. We loved it so much that we rented a kayak from our Airbnb the next morning and paddled around for a few hours to avoid leaving. Dare I say we wish we’d spent two nights? Yes, I do dare.

Medellín

Expectation: From admiring the Botero statues downtown and partying in the Poblado neighborhood, to riding a cable car to Arvi Park and visiting Comuna 13 (a formerly dangerous and isolated mountainside neighborhood that’s been completely transformed by an innovative escalator system), everyone pretty much recommends the same activities in Colombia’s vibrant second city.

Reality: We both really enjoyed Medellín, but not for the reasons everyone told us we would.

Heart-shaped Comuna 13, Medellín, Colombia

Not a single person mentioned La Casa de la Memoria—a free museum built to honor the victims of the recent civil war. A lot of it was in Spanish, but there were a few video testimonies with English subtitles. We heard from parents of abducted children, former FARC members, and victims of assault and violence. It was incredibly moving, and after we were done, we went straight to the hotel to do more research into La Violencia.

On the opposite side of the cultural coin was the fútbol game we went to. Ho. Ly. Cow! Imagine the most passionate fan base you can think of, then dial it up to 11. That’s Colombian soccer fans. They sing, they chant, they curse their rivals, and they dance on their seats. For 90 minutes straight.

The fan section at the Independiente Medellín game

The internet warns against sitting in the rowdy fan section because it can get violent during big games. (The beer served inside the stadium is even non-alcoholic to prevent drunken brawls.) But we sat there anyway—and it was an absolute blast. If you enjoy live sports in any capacity and you find yourself in South America, do not miss a fútbol game!

The newest Independiente Medellín fan enjoying a real beer before going into the stadium

Salento

Expectation: We almost decided not to bother with Salento. It’s a tiny town in Colombia’s coffee region that’s not the easiest to get to. (It requires either an eight-hour bus ride from Medellín or Bogotá, or a one-hour flight on a prop plane followed by a one-hour bus transfer.) It’s known as the gateway to the Cocora Valley, a national park full of Quindío wax palms (the tallest palm trees in the world). But other than that hike, it doesn’t really have an outsized reputation.

Reality: Best part of the trip, hands down. The Cocora Valley hike wasn’t good—it was extraordinary. We walked among lime-green hills, across bubbling streams, and over gentle waterfalls. We gazed up at trees that were taller than some skyscrapers.

To cap it all off, we rode back to town standing on the bumper of an old World War II Willy, gazing at lush landscapes and cow-dotted pasturelands while the wind rushed past our faces.

Hanging on to the back of a speeding Willy

We also picked coffee at a plantation nestled in the mountains, and we drank pourovers while surrounded by orchids and hummingbirds.

Sean put all three of the ripe coffee cherries he found into this kicky traditional basket

We strolled along Salento’s friendly streets and delighted in its small-town feel. We played the traditional Colombian game of tejo (like cornhole, but instead of sending a beanbag through a hole, you’re trying to hit packets of live gunpowder with a big rock). And we watched the Super Bowl with a Colombian brewery owner who lived in San Francisco for 30 years.

Our lovely little eco-lodge usually only hosts people for one or two nights. We stayed four, and neither of us was ready to leave.

Bus rides to and from Salento

Expectation: As the crow flies, it’s not terribly far from Medellín to Salento and from Salento to Bogotá (maybe 170 miles each way). But on a bus through the mountains? It takes almost an entire day, and word on the street was that everyone barfs. As someone who’s prone to motion sickness, I was fully prepared to toss my cookies.

Reality: My cookies stayed right where they belonged! In fact, I’d even go so far as to say I enjoyed both rides. I made it through the first one by mainlining podcasts, and I survived the second by taking a precautionary Dramamine on an empty stomach. (That stuff knocks me the heck out. I slept almost the entire way to Bogotá and was ready for bed as soon as we arrived.)

Bogotá

Expectation: Tell a Colombian you’re going to Bogotá, and the first thing they’ll say is “watch your stuff.” You don’t carry a big camera or use your cellphone on the street unless you want them to get snatched. You keep your wallet in a zipped pocket and you wear your backpack on your chest to deter pickpockets. You don’t hail cabs off the street or you might get robbed at knifepoint.

Still, the State Department considers Bogotá a level 2 risk (on par with my beloved Mexico City), we knew people who’d gone before us and liked it, and we found a cheap flight from there to Santiago. We decided to give it a shot, but we fully expected to get pickpocketed, stabbed, or murdered. (Sorry, mom!)

Reality: We did not get pickpocketed, stabbed, or murdered! But we didn’t enjoy ourselves, either.

Bogotá has a few nice areas and a couple of ok tourist attractions, but huge swaths of it are covered in graffiti, full of trash, and pretty dangerous. And because Colombia outlawed Uber at the end of January, it’s now quite difficult to get around. (I’m not exaggerating when I say shady taxi drivers in Bogotá will kill you. As far as I’m concerned, it’s not worth the risk.)

Our first day in the city was very stressful and bad. A homeless dude grabbed my arm and swore at me because I wouldn’t hand over my half-empty water bottle, and we couldn’t get the Cabify app to work when we needed to get back to our Airbnb. (Cabbies kept accepting rides and then not showing up.)

After one hour and three failed attempts, we decided to try the bus (a no-no according to our Airbnb host). But we didn’t realize until it arrived that we couldn’t pay the driver directly. We would’ve been stranded four miles from home in a sketchy part of town if the nicest man in Bogotá hadn’t buzzed us onto the bus with his transit card and let us pay him back.

We had a much better time just exploring our ritzy neighborhood on foot the next day. And when we did manage to venture out again, it was with one of my lovely former co-workers—a Colombian who spoke the language and knew the good parts of town.

Bottom line: I’d only be comfortable spending a couple of days in Bogotá if I had a local guide and/or guaranteed transportation. Or if I was fluent in Spanish. Or if I was a lot braver.

My favorite view of Bogotá was from the safety of our Airbnb

Even though our trip was bookended by less-than-stellar experiences, a couple of missteps were a small price to pay for an otherwise incredible time. We’ve already established that you need to put Colombia on your short list. (Go ASAP. Don’t wait.) Now the only question is: What should you do when you get there? I really couldn’t say. You’ll just have to let Colombia surprise you.