Not your padre’s Colombia

What’s the first thing you think of when I say Colombia? Cocaine? Pablo Escobar? Narcos? FARC? Terrorism? That’s fair. Colombia doesn’t exactly have a stellar reputation. It’s been embroiled in a series of civil wars and internal political squabbles pretty much since the moment it gained independence from Spain in 1810. The most recent conflict (known as La Violencia) is also the most notorious: From 1964 until 2016, government-supported paramilitary groups clashed with left-wing guerrillas—and both sides were financed by the booming illegal drug trade.

“Hope” street art in what was once Medellín’s most dangerous neighborhood

During those 52 hellish years, more than 200,000 people were killed (most of them civilians) and 5.7 million more were displaced. Jungles were filled with vigilantes touting AK-47s. Big cities like Medellín and Cali were ruled by cartels. Roads were basically impassible—to drive anywhere was to risk being murdered or kidnapped. The situation was so dire that by the turn of the 21st century, Colombia was on the verge of becoming a failed state. Unsurprisingly, it was not a tourist hotspot.

In the 1990s, an average of 600,000 people braved Colombia each year (that’s about on par with the number of annual visitors to volatile Venezuela these days). But in 2016, the government and the FARC finally signed a peace agreement—and tourism has been growing like gangbusters ever since. In 2018, nearly 4 million people showed up, which puts Colombia neck and neck with Peru.

Giant wax palms, Cocora Valley, Colombia

Still, tourism is a very young industry in a country that was once very troubled, so Sean and I expected a few Romania-esque hiccups along the way. But boy were we wrong! Museums are modern and open during posted hours, national parks are very well cared for, and it’s surprisingly easy to get around by plane and by bus. (Except for all the times we struggled to buy tickets in advance online. But in fairness to Colombia, that seems to be a general South America problem.) 

Colombia already has tourism pretty well figured out, and it’s a good thing they’re staying on top of it: Once the world realizes how incredible it is, the floodgates are going to burst open. 

Guatapé, Colombia

Colombia is the fourth-largest country in South America, and the second-most biodiverse in the world. It has something for absolutely everyone. Love nature and lush landscapes? If Ireland and Hawaii had a baby, they’d name her Colombia. The country is full of green mountains, palm forests, waterfalls, monkeys, and more bird and orchid species than anywhere else on Earth. 

Cocora Valley, Colombia

Cocora Valley, Colombia

Andean motmot bird, Salento, Colombia

Andean motmot bird, Salento, Colombia

Fancy a beach day? Colombia has a long Caribbean coastline. And while you have to work hard (and sweat a lot) to find white sand, it’s certainly there for intrepid beach-goers.

Cabo San Juan beach, Tayrona National Park, Colombia

Fans of the urban scene need look no further than mountain-ringed Medellín. It was once the most dangerous city in the world; now it wins awards for innovation and social development projects. Pablo Escobar’s deadly legacy has been replaced by a small but modern metro system (the only one in Colombia), the country’s first cable cars (which connected the poor mountainside hamlets to the services and opportunities in the center), and excellent bars and restaurants (you could spend a week just eating and drinking your way through the Poblado neighborhood). 

Medellín, Colombia

Colombia is an absolutely remarkable place, but it isn’t totally out of the woods. Rebel groups still control some rural areas. Coca farms are still abundant. Poverty is prolific, so petty crime is a very real concern no matter where you go. Many areas are safe for travelers who keep their wits about them, but many others are no-go zones. 

As result, everyone follows basically the same route and stays in the same well-patrolled neighborhoods and towns. (We were essentially confined to a few very nice “gringo blocks” in Santa Marta; we didn’t see a single Colombian on our bus to Salento; and we ran into the same Canadian couple in three different cities.) 

But that was a small price to pay for a magnificent experience. We met plenty of locals (head to Medellín for some of the friendliest people you’ll ever encounter), we hiked through some of the most awe-inspiring landscapes, we had plenty of opportunities to practice our Spanish (less than 10% of the population speaks English), and we saw the country at its most authentic. 

Tayrona National Park, Colombia

So, what’s the first thing you think of when I say Colombia?