Okay.
Here’s the thing.
Colombia is where I start to go off the rails in my travels.
Yes, I still travel like a “normal person.” I visit scenic spots, tourist areas, restaurants, markets, the usual stuff. But this was the trip where I started sending my location to friends just in case people eventually needed to trace my steps.
Not exactly a TripAdvisor headline, but it was honest.
I want you to imagine this.
It’s 2023, months after my Europe trip, where I quickly ran through Portugal, Spain, and Switzerland with my friend. I thought at that point my travel bug would be satisfied.
I was absolutely wrong.
Work had returned to its usual rigmarole. I had recently started keto, which helped me lose about 25 pounds. And I was absolutely sick of the new hybrid work rules most companies had adopted after the end of COVID lockdowns.
I wanted to do something.
Something real.
Something that made me feel alive again.
Also, I clearly did not become an ATP world champion, so there went my tennis dreams. Tragic. The world would simply have to survive without my backhand.
Around that time, I started watching some of my old heroes travel the world. My roommate had also recently come back from a South American vacation where he visited the Dominican Republic, Panama, and Colombia.
Now, two out of three of those places had no real appeal to me at the time. Commercialized party cities with resorts sounded boring.
But Colombia?
There was something about Colombia that clicked for me.
One of the homes of coffee beans. A trade route to the rest of South America. An entry point toward the Amazon rainforest. A haven of dance, music, parties, beautiful people, food, and colour.
It had everything.
But it also had something most other destinations didn’t have, or at least didn’t have in the same way.
A stronger element of danger.
This was not a trip I could bring my usual travel companions on. They would have stood out too much, or ended up in a situation I wouldn’t have been able to save them from.
So Colombia became my first solo adventure.
Why Medellín?
When I say Colombia, I don’t mean Cartagena or Bogotá.
Both are great for their own specialties — food, city life, coastal energy, history, and all of that — but I wanted something more cultural. More real. Less commercialized.
So I chose Medellín.
I had heard about it from my Colombian friend Angelica, who was born and raised in Bucaramanga, and Medellín checked off all the boxes for me.
It had nature.
It had nightlife.
It had food.
It had culture.
It had danger.
It had history.
It had a reputation, and I wanted to know what was behind it.
I was also feeling extra spontaneous, so three weeks out, I booked my tickets for about $600 Canadian and my Airbnb for about $250 for a condo for two weeks.
And that was basically it.
I chose two weeks so I could work remotely for one week while there and have one full week of free travel.
I didn’t want to use this trip to go to the typical tourist traps like Guatapé, although I’m sure it has its own merit. I wanted to live like a local. I wanted to completely immerse myself in the beautiful colours of Colombia.
And so I did.
Getting There
The flights were relatively long, with a tiny layover in Bogotá and then a very tiny plane between Bogotá and Medellín.
One thing I should point out is that Medellín was not quite as touristy then as it is today. At the time, it was still coming off the tail end of COVID, and very few tourists were visiting Medellín specifically for parties. That was more of a Cartagena thing.
Medellín, while definitely having interesting nightlife, still felt like it had more authentic Colombian culture and a less tourist-focused economy.
That being said, you could definitely tell a few of the guys on my plane were going there to find their next wife or girlfriend.
You could feel the intentions radiating off them like cologne at duty-free.
On the way there, I met a LATAM sales leader for a pretty well-known tech conglomerate that my company had a partnership with. We hit it off, and he told me about some of the foods I had to try while there.
He was in Colombia for work, although during his off-hours, he also enjoyed the nightlife.
In fact, I later ran into him again in the El Centro market by pure coincidence.
It reminded me how small the world can be.
It also showed me that although my day-to-day life usually involved a seat, a desk, and a billion tabs open on a screen, the option was always there to explore.
And explore, I did.
Landing Alone
Once I landed, the warm weather hit my face almost immediately.
So did a deep anxiety.
It was an anxiety I was familiar with, but not exactly a fan of. The kind that comes from uncertainty and fear.
I didn’t know where I was.
I didn’t know who these people were.
Did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?
Was I about to lose everything on night one?
It was 1 a.m. Anything could go wrong, and nobody would know.
Looking back, this was one of the first times I felt that fear so clearly, and it was because I was alone. I would later realize that although this feeling was scary at first, it would become part of the addiction of a lifetime every time I travelled.
That feeling of being dropped into the unknown.
The fear.
The alertness.
The possibility.
I quickly ran to the closest cab I saw and asked the driver to take me to my Airbnb.
He didn’t speak English.
Of course.
I used the little Spanish I had picked up from previous trips to secure the ride, and he finally started driving.
The trip was about 35 minutes because the airport was quite far from the inner city of Medellín. When we finally arrived, it was around 1:30 a.m., and it was dark. I couldn’t see much except for the nearby apartments.
And luckily, no lizards.
When I got there, I found two Americans standing outside smoking cigarettes. I had quit smoking at the time, but I had picked up vaping, so I used that opportunity to make some friends.
I spoke to them briefly, exchanged information, and checked in with security while hiding my very authentic relief that I was safe.
Then I went upstairs, felt homesick, and immediately went to bed.
Honestly, it felt depressing.
The place itself was nice, but it was dark, and I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.
My only real experience of Colombia up until that point was The Incredible Hulk with Edward Norton — an amazing movie, by the way — and while it showed a nice part of Colombia, it wasn’t exactly a travel commercial. They were probably more focused on the whole green monster thing.
So yeah.
I messaged a few close friends on WhatsApp and went to bed.
Waking Up in Medellín
Finally, nine or ten hours later, I woke up.
And I woke up to birds chirping.
I still remember this like it was yesterday. What had started as an anxiety-riddled night suddenly flipped completely upside down into the most vibrant, sunlit room possible.
I walked over to the living room, which had a giant window, and saw all of Medellín in front of me.
I could see thousands of houses, the national soccer stadium, and the forest.
My God, the forest.
It was like the entire city was enclosed and protected by a giant bowl of nature.
And the birds were beautiful. Species I had never seen before were flying across the city and past my window like it was the opening scene of a Disney movie.
Needless to say, I learned that my instincts could be wrong sometimes.
I immediately felt a surge of excitement and remembered why I had come there.
I wanted to be a traveller.
And there I was.
Travelling.
In a rainforest, on a different continent.
The city felt alive.
Motorcycle Taxis and Controlled Panic
I packed a shoulder bag so I could safely wander the city while keeping my stuff close.
The first week was basically vacation, so I treated it that way and took to the streets.
My building was relatively tall and located on a hill on the upper side of the city, so I had a great view of everything. Going down was definitely walkable, but I wanted to try something new, so I ordered myself a motorcycle taxi. Security downstairs helped me with it.
Now, I know I had lost weight, but yeah, I definitely wasn’t light.
That thing felt dangerous.
In Colombia, when you ride a motorcycle taxi, they usually give you a helmet, although sometimes they don’t. I definitely opted in for one during those first few rides.
And it was awesome.
Weaving in and out of traffic, between buildings and vehicles, I felt like I was flying.
Although holding onto the bars on the side and back of the bike helped, they did not take away from the core workout of sitting right behind a guy I didn’t know and trying to avoid accidentally spooning him.
core workout of sitting right behind a guy I didn’t know and trying to avoid accidentally spooning him.
Travel changes you.
Sometimes spiritually.
Sometimes through ab engagement.
Comuna 13
That first day, the first thing I did was go to Comuna 13, which was close to where I was staying.
Historically, Comuna 13 was known for gang activity, but in recent years, it had transformed into an artistic haven and was relatively safe during the day.
There was also a gondola that went across the upper parts of Medellín. I thought, why not fly across the city as an introduction?
A literal overview.
And these gondolas were cool.
They were continuously moving, so when you were ready, you would walk into the next one and get off at whichever stop you wanted.
I chose to go all the way up.
It was beautiful seeing the city below, kids running around playing soccer along never-ending staircases, tiny houses where mothers hung up laundry, and neighbourhoods stacked into the mountain.
The houses may not have been massive, but they were enough.
And to the people there, they were home.
I loved the vibrancy.
Meeting José
At one of the gondola stops, I made my first friend.
A gentleman walked into my lone cabin and sat beside me.
It didn’t take much effort to notice the white powder painted across his nose and mouth. He was most definitely high. The jitters didn’t hide much either.
As a friendly Canadian, the first thing I did was introduce myself.
His name was José.
And boy, the dude was chill.
He was actually part of one of Colombia’s cartel networks.
Now, cartel structures, like most gangs, have hierarchical systems. At the top, there is integration into the economy of the city and country. Members may be embedded in leadership positions and resemble businessmen. At the lower end of the hierarchy are the more common street-level figures, people involved in things like drug trade, sex tourism, and other red-light activities.
This gentleman was the latter.
I asked him what parts of Medellín he recommended for parties and food.
He mentioned Parque Lleras and La Provenza.
I would later find out that these were some of the main nightlife and tourism landmarks of the city, also commonly associated with prostitution and party culture. At the time, though, I was picturing more regular nightclubs.
Not exactly wrong.
Overall, it was a pleasant encounter.
I waved him goodbye and continued exploring.
Only in solo travel can you accidentally get nightlife recommendations from a high cartel guy in a gondola and then think, “Nice, making friends.”
El Centro
I wandered without really knowing where I was heading.
Eventually, I made my way to an area called El Centro.
Now, mind you, it was daytime.
This matters.
Above El Centro was a parallel train line, but underneath it was a bustling market full of fruits, clothing, accessories, and random items.
I wasn’t really in the mood for shopping, so I headed to a small restaurant where the owner gave me
I wasn’t really in the mood for shopping, so I headed to a small restaurant where the owner gave me some soup and bandeja paisa.
The food honestly wasn’t mind-blowing, but the freshness of the ingredients was nice, especially knowing I was in Colombia eating those ingredients.
Crispy pork belly, beans, rice, and aguacate.
A young avocado.
I usually hated avocados, but I loved that aguacate. It was firmer and more fruity than what I was used to.
I continued down El Centro, and before I knew it, the first- or second-hand markets transitioned into third- or fourth-hand markets.
The knickknacks were now rusted. Almost everything looked used. The streets became grungier, and there was visible drug use.
Remember when I mentioned it was daytime?
Well, I later realized that El Centro is considered one of the more dangerous parts of Medellín, especially at night.
Which, of course, I also visited during my trip.
Because apparently personal growth sometimes wears clown shoes.
A Safety Note
Quick side note.
Although I visited these spots, I don’t necessarily recommend them to most people.
Before going, I had studied how to handle those streets and how to avoid putting myself in especially dangerous situations. I was also usually accompanied by friends I made along the way and trusted.
Not everyone is that lucky.
During that same trip, I met guys who had their wallets and passports stolen at knifepoint. I also heard about people being drugged and dropped off without clothes in the middle of El Centro.
So yes, explore if you want.
But understand what you’re walking into.
Curiosity is great.
Stupidity is expensive.
Sometimes literally.
The Jersey Tour Guide
Over the next few days, I actually met up with one of the guys I had met on day one.
He was from Jersey and worked as a tour guide during the day.
Again, imagine my luck.
He showed me around the graffiti-splattered buildings of Medellín, along with some of the spas and casinos throughout the city.
The casinos were a blast.
Think of any old casino, but the gambling used pesos, which meant you could spend an entire day gambling the equivalent of about $10 Canadian while getting free drinks and snacks just for being there.
A dangerous concept for someone who loves value and chaos.
Driving around the city, I noticed police officers and military vehicles with AR-15s on many corners. That was another reminder that Medellín was vibrant and beautiful, yes, but it was not Disneyland.
Well, maybe Disneyland if Mickey had tactical support.
Food, People, and the Real Parts of Colombia
I also met people online who showed me the real parts of Colombia.
I got to try delicious meat platters called picadas, and of course, my favourites: empanadas and deditos.
Even buñuelos.
In general, the people of Colombia were beautiful, romantic, and vibrant.
I even learned how to dance merengue, bachata, and salsa.
Not well.
But hey, I learned.
One of the friends I made there was a psychology student at the university. We remain friends to this
One of the friends I made there was a psychology student at the university. We remain friends to this day.
Another was a soccer player on the women’s national team for Medellín. She even played at the stadium I had seen from my window.
And that stadium, by the way, had explosive games multiple times during the weeks I was there.
You could hear and see giant green and white flares going up into the sky from the stadium.
There was always something happening.
That was the feeling of Medellín.
Alive.
Always alive.
Parque Lleras and Provenza
When I wasn’t relaxing and talking on rooftops or drinking at local bars, my friends took me to Parque Lleras and Provenza.
I mentioned earlier that these areas were popular for sex tourism, but outside of that, they also had some great food.
I took the opportunity to try ceviche and some lightly torched sushi at a restaurant called Yackie Chan.
Yeah.
You guessed it.
It was named after Jackie Chan and served Asian fusion food.
Crazy, I know.
But a three-course meal for three people cost about $180 Canadian, which in my eyes was totally worth it.
The fresh fruits, milk, and cheese while I was there were also great. I spent many days either ordering through Rappi or DiDi, while other nights were spent eating whatever snacks I could find in supermarkets.
There was less tamarind than in Mexico, but still lots of salty and sour snacks, which I quickly fell in love with.
One of my friends also introduced me to alfajores, a shortbread and dulce de leche sandwich that can easily make you fat if you indulge too much.
Either way, I was touched.
Emotionally and calorically.
The Watch Mechanic
I also picked up a cool knockoff Fossil watch for about $20 Canadian.
During that same trip, it broke.
Do not fret, though, because that same market in El Centro had everything you could ever need.
I found a small watch mechanic who fixed it in five minutes for no more than $3.
That was one thing I learned quickly.
A common misconception about countries like Colombia is that because the economy and GDP are lower than major nations like Canada or the U.S., people assume necessities are harder to come by.
But not in Colombia.
Everything you could want or need was accessible, and usually at a lower price.
The same goes for a lot of countries.
It made me realize how much of “development” we measure through our own narrow lens. Back home, if something breaks, you often replace it. In Medellín, someone fixes it in five minutes at a tiny stall and barely makes a big deal out of it.
That kind of practicality deserves respect.
Karaoke, Bamboo, and Everyday Magic
A few more things I learned during this trip: People are almost always down for a good time.
I can’t count the number of people I met and drank with the same day. Hell, I even did karaoke with one of my taxi drivers, although she was a way better singer than me.
Also, Colombia is home to bamboo.
Not just Japan or Asia.
Bamboo was scattered through many of the residential streets, and it gave the neighbourhoods a certain elegance. Almost like textured walls for the streets.
I was stunned when I first saw it.
That’s one of the best parts of travelling somewhere new. You realize how many assumptions are sitting in your brain rent-free, doing absolutely nothing useful.
The R-Rated Side of Colombia
Of course, during my trip, I was also exposed to the more R-rated side of Colombia.
Cocaine was prevalent as one of the most common party drugs. A small bag was very accessible to people who wanted it. At one point, I even saw what looked like a grandmother — who I thought was selling cigarettes — sell it to some college kids.
Along with the famous white stuff, Colombia also had something called tusi, a pink party drug that was usually made up of different substances like MDMA and ketamine.
And of course, joints made an appearance here and there.
Call me nerdy, but I generally stuck to alcohol while there.
For safety, a general rule of thumb in bars was to stick to bottles, and to cover the opening with your thumb so a fun night stayed memorable for the right reasons.
My favourite and most common beer while there was a brand called Águila.
We had it pretty much every other night.
Quiet Mornings
Now, although a lot of what I said sounds crazy, many of my mornings were actually spent at small cafés throughout Medellín.
The food courts were much more plentiful than the ones back home, and nothing beat the espresso served to me in the mornings while watching the nearby scenery.
It’s funny.
Usually in Toronto, if it rains, the whole day feels gloomy and grey. But in Medellín, people actually seemed to look forward to the rain. It would come in one heavy, short burst and then clear up for the rest of the day.
So yeah.
It was great.
And of course, I would use motorcycle taxis to ride through the town and feel the wind in my hair.
Well, whatever wind could reach me through the helmet I wisely chose not to die without.
A Night Above the City
Overall, the trip to Colombia was two weeks long, but it was deeply impactful.
To this day, it reminds me that no matter what happens day to day at home, there is somewhere out there where people are enjoying life to its fullest every single day.
One of my last nights there was spent with Maria, the soccer player, who took me to one of her favourite lookout points.
We saw the stars, drank a few beers, and watched the city lights.
Peaceful.
Quiet.
After all the chaos, danger, music, dancing, motorcycle taxis, markets, warnings, food, and rooftops, that moment felt like the whole trip exhaled.
What Colombia Woke Up in Me
Colombia woke something up in me.
A confidence that had been asleep for a long time.
It was the start of many more solo adventures.
Before Medellín, travel was something I did with other people. Something fun. Something exciting.
Something I loved.
After Medellín, travel became something deeper.
A way to test myself.
A way to wake myself up.
A way to remember that the world is not limited to work calendars, office policies, familiar streets, and the same conversations on repeat.
I was hooked by travelling.
And there was no letting go.