2025 Medellín, Colombia

US$1.00 = COP$4,131 (Colombian pesos (and yes, they use the dollar sign))

It looks like we got out of Dodge just in time. All week at home the weather report for this weekend has been getting increasingly more ominous- luckily all starting after our scheduled departure from Albany. Spending a little extra on the hotel for tonight, we decided to save a few bucks and take the bus to New York en route to JFK. Our flight leaves at 6:00am tomorrow and instead of any alternatives, we decide to get a room at the TWA Hotel at the airport and come down on Saturday. As we were coming down in the bus the snow had started but was more of an annoyance than an issue. We get dropped in Port Authority which is as dingy and scummy today as it was the first time I arrived for a long weekend in NYC back in 1991. Nonetheless, we were on a mission. As soon as we sat on the bus, El went to pull out her knitting project only to discover one of her needles had snapped in half. Unwilling to complete the trip to Colombia before finding a shop, we made a detour and headed to my old Greenwich Village neighborhood to a shop to procure replacements. The slight down side is that it is starting to come down in a wintery mix as we walk the streets of Manhattan. We get to the shop, make the purchase and get back to the subway. Instead of heading back to Penn Station and getting the LIRR, we opt to just stay on the subway and take it all the way out to Howard Beach and grab the Airtrain there. By the time we get to the hotel, we can check in immediately and head to our room to drop bags before finding some food. As we drop bags and use the facilities, we discover there is an oddity with the bathroom sink in that both faucets are providing scalding hot water- ie. no cold or even warm. It’s just unusably hot water. On our way to find the bar/restaurant, we stop at the front desk to see if they can get someone to look at the faucets while we are eating. Unfortunately (or fortunately) she agrees to just change our room easily enough- though we had to go back to the room, get our bags and return to the desk and get our new assignment before eating. No problem, the inconvenience minor. The hotel has an observation deck bar on the rooftop. We head up but we have to walk outside across the roof to get into the bar. Without a jacket the 23° is a little uncomfortable, luckily it’s just a few feet. We pass by the rooftop infinity pool that is being heated to an incredibly steamy 95°. So while some guests are enjoying the pool, the steam is creating an ice patch on the deck floor making our trudge a little more treacherous. We make it into the bar without incident and order a beer and a hummus plate. What is served leaves a lot to be desired and we immediately opt to go to the restaurant downstairs instead of eating more of this barely passing snack. We head down to the Paris Café which we have eaten at before. It is a kitchen overseen by Jean-Georges Vongerichten and has a quality of food that is superior to most hotel restaurants, let alone airport food. They are full, but can seat us in the bar. We take it. The TWA Hotel is located at Terminal 5 at JFK and many people with long layovers will come here instead of hanging in their terminal. 

Hey, you are going to pay an arm and a leg for airport food no matter where you eat, but if you can actually get a great meal, it may be worth it. To me it is anyway. We start with a cocktail and a roasted half head of cauliflower. It is served over couscous with slices of jalapeño and a ramekin of turmeric sauce is a tasty starter. For the entrée I get a rigatoni with meatballs. The ragu has a smoky component that is quite tasty and fills me up well. We don’t go with a dessert, we just head back to the room to get ready for bed. We do have to get up at 2:45 tomorrow morning, so turning in early is the plan. 

Sunday February 16

We awake on schedule and shower. Our terminal is one stop on the Airtrain and we're there in minutes. Having checked-in online and with no baggage to check, we proceed directly to the security. At this hour there aren't many passengers and we are through in minutes. Also, because of the early hour, most of the places to grab a breakfast nibble are not yet open. No sweat, we break into a bag of Combos El brought. We board on time, but are about 45 minutes delayed on the takeoff. Luckily, I am tired enough to sleep right up until we are in the air.

I was remarking during my last journal written about Boise and my annoyance with airlines nickel and diming you at every step of the way and how in some cases you even need to upgrade your ticket to get things that used to be included or complimentary. It used to be expected that you would be checking baggage. But, nowadays so many people travel carry-on only, they need to get their money. So, we actually had to upgrade our ticket just to get the carry-on item! Who would travel internationally with only a single personal item? Really, who could do that? As the crew comes through the cabin, even a can of Coca-Cola costs $4! In her bag of tricks, El has packets of coffee, so a free cup of hot water was all we required. 

I feel a different sense of excitement about this trip. For a year now, people have been asking where we are going on vacation and when I told them Medellín, Colombia the reactions ranged from “ooh, I never heard of anyone going there” to “isn’t that place super dangerous?” Given that we travel one major trip a year, and having knocked a lot of “tourist friendly” places off our travels early in our relationship, we have been trying to push our comfort zone boundaries for years. It doesn’t mean I want to visit a war zone or necessarily go to a place where contracting e-bola is a real concern. But, the idea of visiting a place that is still off many people’s radar is appealing to me. When preparing for the trip we wanted to share the experience with others, but it didn’t work out, so El and I are heading together in hopes of discovering a place we can recommend to fellow intrepid travelers. We will be here less than a week, but will pack as much as we can into our time. 

We didn’t know a whole lot about Medellín when last year started. I have been reading that they have an up-and-coming culinary scene and also how after the Escobar cartel, the government is putting a lot of money into the revitalization of the city. Trying to turn perception away from its dark past as the murder capital of the world. As El and I were watching two consecutive episodes of last season’s The Amazing Race, the team was in Medellín, climbing up El Peñol, skygliding over Guatapé, racing through the streets of Medellín, and performing challenges in Botero Park. It was enough for us to take notice and bump it one notch up on the list of places we want to visit. Then, coincidentally, the very next day CBS Sunday Morning did a story about Medellín’s flower industry. Maybe the travel gods were trying to tell us something? Once we had made our decision to go, we, of course, revisited episodes of our travel guru- Anthony Bourdain. Taking notes at every turn. Now, his episodes were featuring all of Colombia, but we still got some ideas from his presentation. We are landing in the next half hour...so let the boundary pushing commence.

Today is Sunday, and we are landing around noon. Our first challenge is getting ourselves from the airport to the hostel. There are still some neighborhoods that are decidedly less savory than others and I tried to research the more comfortable places and found a place in the El Poblado section. If we were landing at night, options would be decidedly different- probably a taxi/Uber. But, if we have to navigate public transit, best to try during daylight hours, though Sunday could throw us some extra challenges, but we’ll figure it out- or take a taxi, if we can’t. 

We get off the plane and get dumped into the arrivals hall with 90% of the other passengers from our plane. With only three agents working, it takes about one and a half hours to get through immigration. Along the way there are QR codes on the wall that you scan to open up an immigration document. The problem is the WiFi is so spotty in the hall that it takes me almost 45 minutes just to get through the 5 page form before it is accepted and returns a proof of filing email. Once we get up to the front the agent takes our passports, asks for the flight number, where we are going in Colombia and where we are staying. I guess we answered fast enough as it took him longer to stamp our passports than for us to answer. We were through in no time, but I could see if you arrived at the window not knowing your hotel or the flight number it would hold up the line. Once through, the first order of business is to find an ATM. The first one we see is one of the recommended banks, so we get our first bunch of pesos, not sure yet if this is more of a cash or credit society- I want to be prepared for both- for the record it is both. Also, for future travelers, I am understanding that most ATM's will cap you at 600,000 pesos, per transaction. However, the ATM in the airport was the only one we saw that will allow for 1,500,000 in one transaction and 3,000,000 lasted us almost a week. With several transport options of getting from airport to hostel, we go with the cheapest as a way to start familiarizing ourselves with the layout of the city. We take the green/white buses that are lined up just outside of the arrivals hall. It is 17,000 pesos per person, cash only and they will drop you at San Diego station or Expositiones Metro stop for the same price. No sooner do we leave the actual premises of the airport, we see the aftermath of a vehicle/motorcycle accident. Luckily no one looked injured too badly, but after hearing so much about the driving insanity in this country...I guess some locals haven't mastered it yet! San Diego station is an option only to save money on a taxi. We stay on to Expositiones Metro stop. We know we can walk to the hostel (during the day) from Poblado Metro, so we make our way. Our research tells us we will be better off with a Civica Metro card, a rechargeable card that you buy the first time and add money as needed. We are suggested that even though you can use one card for two people, if you do that and try to transfer, it doesn’t work well- we are told to just get separate cards. We walk with our bags a few blocks to the hostel. They are expecting us and get us set up quickly in our private room. It’s almost 4pm and still light out, so we walk to explore our neighborhood. One of our recommendations is a local restaurant called Mamacita. It seems like a chain...a local chain, but the local food is recommended here and we are starving. 4 o’clock starts happy hour and we order a cocktail, an appetizer, and a plate of bandeja paisa (translates to a platter of paisa food- paisa is the region of Colombia we are in and people from Medellín refer to themselves as paisas) to share. This is local food and I guess this might be a good enough place to try it. We use the waiting time to look up places in the area and chat about the week's plans. Our food arrives. A plate of arepas with a trio of sauces ranging from mild to a bit hot. The move to split the bandeja paisa was a good one. It’s, I think, generally a breakfast dish, though obviously, you can get it all day. Not unlike an Irish breakfast, it’s a specific set of items all placed on a platter. Plantains, avocado, beans, rice, beef, sausage, chicharones (fried pork skin), blood sausage, and topped with one sunny side up egg, and a single arepa. 

My first bites make me ponder…”have I ever been to a Colombian restaurant?" The answer is, probably not. And possibly for good reason. I will be optimistic for the rest of the week, but if this is what it’s all about, it could be like Chile all over again (to date the worst cuisine we have had). I am surprised, and a bit unsure if it is normal that the temperature is lukewarm at best. At home, if anything was served at this temp, I would probably send it back, but not knowing the deal with this dish, I press on, though taking the temp into account when discussing it. The music is bad and loud, urging us to move on. We don’t need more food now, but mid-meal we both look at each other realizing that we have both consumed the ice in our drinks and probably need to be a bit more careful in the future. By the way, having had blood sausage and not liking it and El having contracted a parasite from it in Chile, no less, we both decided not to indulge tonight and remove it from the plate before eating. After an hour we are winding down and looking to press on. Maybe I should see if there is a local beer that is palatable and stick to it for the duration. We get our check and move on while the light is still upon us. Immediately, it reminds me a lot of San Juan, PR. It has buildings that I am sure are nice inside, though the street maintenance is a little lacking. A significant number of homeless, especially methodically dissecting piles of garbage bags set out for tomorrow's pickup in hopes of finding bottles that can be returned. I have seen several of these piles that have already been “sorted” and bone picked, that now await a collection person to arrive and make room for next weeks haul. I have noticed that they seem to be great at recycling. There are recycle bins everywhere- in the streets, in the metro stations, in parks, and people seem to be treating them right ie. you don't see a recycle bin full of plastic bottles with the remains of someone’s left over lunch on top of it. El Poblado is widely considered the section of the city where money lives and is the safest locally. And having only been here a few hours and not had any issues, we can’t disagree. Though, if this is the “best” neighborhood, I am not sure what the less savory areas hold in store for us. Did you ever buy avocados for guacamole? The ones that are soft and creamy when mashed and are a solid base of amazing guac? Now, did you ever accidentally go to the supermarket and buy what you thought were those awesome, creamy avocados, only to find out when you got home that you bought a different variety of avocado and when you try to make guac with it, it seems to have entirely too much water content and the consistency of the guac is not what you expected and you realize that you bought the wrong avocados? That’s what the guac I am eating right now is made of. There seems to be a lot of Mexican eateries in the area and we stop at one near the hostel. We don't need a late night and we got a coupon for a free drink at the hostel tonight, so we are just going to stop at a local place for a beer and nibble before heading to the hostel for the one free drink. I ask for the best Colombian beer. I am given a “Club Colombia” beer and it is not too bad. It’s a lager and is drinkable- though nothing to write home about...err...anyway, the guac is mashed, watery avocado and lime. That’s it. No garlic, no salt, no spices. Just avocado and lime, with chips that had to be ordered separately. Tomorrow we have a walking tour of downtown and a fancy dinner in the evening. But, we are hoping to get an idea of the city plan as we go through our first full day.

Lastly, our hostel has two buildings and they give guests a single complimentary drink upon arrival. When we make it up to the rooftop bar I am surprised, but not shocked to learn that the complimentary drink is one glass of a specific drink. Here I am thinking I will get a free beer or cocktail only to learn that the free drink is called a Caipirinha- a typical Brazilian drink, but made with a Colombian liqueur called Antioqueno Aguardiente. 

It is served margarita style, however, instead of salt, it is an anise flavored, sugar encrusted, rim. The drink itself is OK, like a citrusy vodka with low alcohol volume. Whatever, the price is right. The music is awful and we don't plan to stay long. The view is kind of cool though. 

Monday February 17

Our sleep was a bit of good news, bad news. Mattress, comfortable. Sleep, pretty solid. Street noise: if it’s this loud on a Sunday night, Friday is going to suck! We slept almost 10 hours after our 2:45am wake time to get our flight in NYC. We hadn’t done all that much, but certainly felt beat. Some of it could also be the altitude. Our first commitment today is a walking tour of downtown at 10:00am. This gives us time to find some breakfast and find our way to the meeting point. I had gotten some recommendations from a travel blogger who I follow and used to live here for a time. He recommended a place called Betty’s Bowls in El Poblado, so we headed to check it out. It was about a 25 minute walk all uphill and we were both sweating upon arrival. We are seated and order lattes while looking over the English menu furnished by the host. I got a bagel with grilled veggies, chimichurri, and avocado. One person online called this the “best bagel I have ever had”. My guess is that she is from Arkansas. Nonetheless, it was a good recommendation and the coffee was good. It is a vegan/vegetarian place and navigating a vegan friendly menu in English is tough enough, in Spanish...I gotta go with what I know. Don’t be serving me any “chick’n” or “vegan cream cheese” lest I bite into it to discover some ungodly concoction that vegans call cream cheese. But, since this place is also vegetarian and could have real cream cheese, I am just not that confident in my charades to distinguish between the OK and the most certainly not OK. A quick check of the time and map show that we ought to think about getting going as the closest metro station is actually back past where we came from this morning. Luckily, it is all downhill and we used the Poblado Metro station yesterday and start to recognize signs, buildings, parks, etc. as we make our way to the train. The trains run quite frequently as this is technically, rush hour. The people of Medellín are very proud of their metro. They are the only city in Colombia with one and the residents seem to respect it a lot more than I would have expected. We make it to the meeting spot with a comfortable buffer to grab a bathroom stop while waiting for others to arrive. As we wait, we strike up a conversation with five older gentlemen from London who are on a grand tour of South America hitting several counties and cities between now and Bolivia before returning home. They are on their way to Buenos Aires and El and I are able to give them some recommendations from when we were there. And since they have already been in Medellín for a couple of days, they are able to offer up some of their travel wisdom to us, which was appreciated. As the tour gets underway, we know it will be typical (in a good way) as the guide is local and passionate about his home city. We get a bit of good historical information, which is expected, but it wasn't too much and his dynamic presentation makes it interesting. Right away he addressed the elephant in the room. Pablo Escobar. Besides Shikira, the one name that most people associate with Colombia. I think our guide, Germann, explains it best...Escobar was the cause of so much pain for so many families in this country for so many years. There is no shortage today of people who are using a connection to him to make money. However, those who are closer to the pain and grief find the marketing or glorification of his reign as the reopening of old wounds. He spoke of four classmates of his who all lost parents to Escobar. For this reason, he could not condone any of the enterprises. Whereas, other of our guides later in the week would admit to more of an ambivalence toward the concept as they are themselves are today too far removed from the violence to have a personal stake guiding their opinion. The tour overall was informative and interesting and took us to sections of the city that are considered problematic after dark. Luckily, the tour was starting at 10:00am, so we were good. However, when laying out the ground rules for the tour, he did make very clear that he has a scale of 1-5, regarding walking in areas that are prime for pickpockets and thieves. As the tour progressed, we would get to our spots where he would point out features or tell us about the surroundings. Then he would end with a “we are now heading to a 4.5” which we knew meant, make sure your valuables are in your bag and in front of you at all times. He gave us some good practical tips for being safe in these public spaces which I found helpful. The tour was good. As with most city downtowns, a reasonably short walk can allow you to see many spots in a short time, which is why we try to do them early in the trip. The highlights of the tour are Parque Botero, which is a plaza with 23 sculpture installations all made by Fernando Botero, a beloved local and world famous artist. The park has the metal sculptures placed around the square for the public to enjoy. We are given some time to take pictures and we get a chuckle out of seeing where the sculptures have been rubbed for good luck. Just before we take our obligatory selfie, we hear others yelping and recoiling as the metal figures are very hot to the touch from sitting in the noonday sun. 

We take their queue and forgo actually setting our hands upon one. Next we went to the “light forest” which I had read about. It is a plaza where they installed several LED towers that make for quite a sight when all lit up (as we have seen in photos). El and I ask if we should return here on an evening to see it lit up, but unfortunately, he reports that because many of the lights are broken, they do not even light it up anymore and today, ironically, it is better during the day than it is at night! 

Then we walk to the mall. Yes, the mall. Mall culture is big here. I am not sure why, but there are a lot of them and it is recommended to visit at least one. The one we went to used to be a government building. Six floors high with the first three floors retail shops and food while the top three floors are all gallery space where artists “donate” a fair equivalent of rent in art, that is then offered for sale. It is a kind of museum in the mall. We take our tour break here, giving us a chance to look at the galleries, get a snack, use restrooms (the bathrooms on the top floor are free, the ones on the bottom floor have a fee). While I am at it, I am going to give a shout out to the people of Colombia for treating public bathrooms with respect. Besides Japan (which is unequalled for amazing bathrooms), the public bathrooms here are generally very clean and smell good. Even the ones in a metro station or in a park are in respectable shape, but in a bar or a café, forget it...spotless. Well done Colombia. We make our way through these galleries, which used to be government offices. Our tour meeting spot is on the ground floor and we head out from there. Next stop is the site of a grenade attack on the police station several years ago. Along the wall is a mural that depicts the entire history of Colombia in one long painting. As we wrap up this stop we are told we are heading to 5 on the pickpocket scale! Our last stop is Parque San Antonio that has statues of two birds- one mangled, the other whole.

Back in June 1995 there was only one bird, and during a concert on the plaza a bomb was detonated underneath it instantly killing 30 people and injuring more than 200. The statue was made by Botero. Soon after, the mayor of the city decided the mangled statue needed to be removed from its pedestal. This prompted Botero himself to call the mayor and plead for him to leave the destroyed bird in place and that he would install a brand new replica alongside it to symbolize the rebirth after such a tragedy. And today the two birds sit side by side. One of our London friends recommended the metrocable to Parque Arvi. When I ask about the park itself, he replies that they did not go into the park and only took the car there and back. We have read that the park is less of a priority than other things. We have the afternoon free, so we decide to head that way. We take the metro to Acevedo Station and transfer to the metrocable to Santo Domingo. This is where you get the cable car to Parque Arvi. As we step off the car in Santo Domingo, we see a sign that the station is closed today. Not sure if it is weather or mechanical related, or if it is just closed on Mondays. Anyway, get right back on to the metrocable and head back to the botanical gardens before dinner. It too is closed today. Instead of hopping back onto the metro right away, we stop at an empanada place for one piece and a seat. It is filling and the hot salsa is very hot...and good. Getting back on the metro, we move on to the yarn shop that El found. El Poblado is very hilly and I am certainly feeling the grade. Unfortunately for El, the store, although open, is a little bit of a bust. On our walk to the yarn shop, today’s batch of rain begins to fall. Sadly, the humidity makes wearing the raincoat so uncomfortable, it may need to be a more significant downpour to get me to break it out again. While El ducks into the knitting shop I grab a seat across the street at an eatery called Del Tolima. I sit and journal while El shops, though she joins me before my first sip of beer- another local brew called simply “Pilsen”, which turns out to be my favorite Colombian beer for the trip. We take some time to talk about our tour, look up some places we are considering making time for, and various other things on our mind.

Making sure to be back at the room in plenty of time to get to dinner, we head back and relax for an hour before heading downstairs to call an Uber to take us to Restaurant Ritwal. It’s a highly rated place up in the hills with spectacular views. While I am sure the lunch views are also fantastic, the lit up Medellín does look pretty amazing against the dark night. I start with a gin and tonic. I was hoping for a classic recipe, but instead arrives a house concoction which is basically a citrus G&T. A little more grapefruit than I expected. Good, but just wanted a classic. We start with two appetizers, a grilled octopus and a plate of patatas bravas. The octopus is very tasty, though a little on the overcooked side. The glaze on the octopus tastes like Chinese spare ribs- which is not at all unpleasant. The patatas bravas, well, that just missed for me. I love the classic roasted/fried potatoes tossed in the spicy tomato sauce. This was more like french fries with some sauce dropped onto the plate and a drizzle of some sort of coriander sauce. It was OK, but not much better than straight up french fries. For entrée, I order rice with curry chicken. It is very good and a little bit of the curry sauce goes a long way. The chicken is very well cooked and the portion size is very good. I get a glass of house white wine that pairs nicely. We are too full for dessert so we call for the check and Uber back. It’s almost 10:30 and we have to be ready for our 8:30 tour of Comuna 13 in the morning. We plan no nightcap.

Tuesday February 18

Somewhere along the lines, my research has failed me. While the hostel is really great in so many ways, the noise level on the street up until midnight or later (depending on the day) is just unreal. How the location of an outdoor discotheque next door failed to have been mentioned is beyond me. Maybe I missed it, or maybe the other reviewers were not concerned enough to point it out as a fault. But, wow, there's a reason the room comes with complimentary earplugs! Our tour starts at 8:30 this morning and the leader will pick us up at the hostel. El finds a breakfast place just around the corner called Ganso & Castor café/bistro. They have a bunch of breakfast options and light lunch stuff too. With a latte, my bagel with ham and cheese sets my day off right. My sleep last night was awful, not just because of the thumping bass, but all of my first travel days aches are reminding me that I don’t generally walk nine miles a day, like we did yesterday. Every day should be a little better, but tonight, it made for lousy sleep.

After breakfast we head back to the hostel to wait for Isabel to pick us up. I had texted her our specific address yesterday as our hostel is actually two properties on two different streets. Close, but different nonetheless. I knew it could be confusing, so I sent her the address of our building (which is different from the one with the reception desk). As expected, she messages me at 8:30 telling me she is at the reception desk. Instead of getting off on a bad foot by asking her to come to me, we just walk around the corner and meet her there. We exchange greetings and meet our driver for the day- or at least the portion of it where we need one. Our first stop is Comuna 7. Isabel uses the time to tell us some of her personal history as well as the history of the city and this neighborhood specifically. When I was researching this trip one of the pages frequently has people asking for tour guide recommendations and Bloom Travel came up a few times. It seems that there is far from a shortage of tour companies offering services in this city. There are some very common day trips and experiences that many seem to offer, but the tours of the city center and Comuna 13 are pretty much a given if you're in that business. Bloom got high ratings when I checked them out on TripAdvisor and so I reached out to them to get details on their Comuna 13 tour. Now, I had already set up a couple of tours with other companies, but Bloom was the first one who gave an introduction pitch that included a mission statement. Their offerings are a little more money than some, but it was explained that her company is women owned and employs single mothers from Comuna 13 in their tours. A tour company with a social conscience? I’m willing to give it a shot. The driver drops us at the metrocable San Javier where we take the cable car over the mountain to Comuna 7. Isable has some relatives in this area and takes us to a local hospital that has an overlook. While we stand admiring the city below, Isabel takes a few minutes to begin filling us in on the reason for her company's mission. I was not going to go into too much detail, but as we listen to her tell her story that starts off when she, as 13 year old girl, was raped by her step father resulting in the birth of her first son. At first, I thought it was a little much for us to be hearing such details, but as she went on, the reason she brings this up is that it gives a face to people that have had some of the worst life experiences ever and somehow found the purpose, not only to carry on, but to rise and thrive in the face of tremendous adversity. Realizing at such a young age that you can’t always count on others, her personal strength borne out of horrific circumstances. This includes creating a business that becomes successful enough to be in a position to help others. It somehow seems poignant to be standing on an overlook, with the entire city sprawled out below, with her literally and figuratively standing on top. After learning of some of her personal tragedy, we head back down to San Javier Station, to head up into to Comuna 13 where we meet Nubia, one of the single mothers working with Isabel and benefiting from the tours. 

Basically, Comuna 13 is a barrio that for years was considered the murder capital of the world, but today is experiencing a renaissance, of sorts. With Nubia leading the way, we are first taken to an apartment that has been converted into an exhibition space. It is run by the family that owns the real estate and once inside we are welcomed by a young man- in his 20’s. He speaks no English, but has a prerecorded tour narration loaded into a player. We listen to his family’s history while admiring the photos and displays while he gestures at the appropriate times to make sure we are seeing the exhibit the voice in the speaker is speaking about. We make our way through the three room exhibit going from family history to the violence to the liberation and renaissance. A neon phoenix serves as both entering and exiting imagery. There is a tip jar at the end as well as a few items for sale, for those inclined. As we walk through the barrio, we stop at galleries to see local art- both for sale and installations for admiring, we see dance troops give performances for tips, and see local merchants hawking their wares. This (Comuna 13) is one of the most visited areas in Colombia and everybody is trying to do what they can to share in their piece of the tourist dollar. At this point it looks like much of the most visited space is packed into a relatively small area. Everybody wants to see the graffiti. Everybody wants to see the escalators. Even though they are just regular covered escalators, they were built outdoors by the government I’m guessing, to encourage those who might be discouraged from visiting the barrio because of the amount and steepness of the steps that the locals have been using forever. Everybody wants to see street art. And as we walk through with Isabel, she takes us on an exhaustive trek through the narrow streets and alleyways. One stop is to watch a dance performance. While I do not have much interest in hip-hop in general, I get an entirely different sense when witnessing the incredible human strength that break dancing can showcase. The volume of the music adds to the ferociousness of the spectacle and seems appropriate in its context. As we walk away from the performance- dropping a tip into the hat- we ask Isabel and Nubia if they have ever heard of the Amazing Race. Since neither have, we explain how we learned about this area from the show. Though both are familiar with a different show with a similar concept. As we walk through the alleyways and tiny streets, there are spots where you can look up or down the mountainside and see areas that are all creating art that is big, colorful, interesting (insert other adjective here) that would attract an outsider to visit their spot and hopefully spend some money buying from merchants, tipping the performers, or grabbing some street food close by. This is a creative fight where both the community and the visitors win. We walk up a lot of steps, we walk down a lot of steps. The city has installed six outdoor escalators to aid in the ease of people moving. Besides the occasional motorcycle, there really is no car traffic in much of the barrio. Over the next hour or two we duck into a few galleries, and one café to grab a coffee. As we sit, drinking our coffee, Isabel points to a display on the wall. It is a framed newspaper article with several photos. The figure our eye is drawn to is Bill Clinton. As we show some admiration that our former president drank coffee in the same café, she goes on to add that the other person in the photo is the owner of the café…who is a famous street artist in Comuna 13. She says his name is Chota13 and in fact, she motions, he is sitting in a booth nearby! El and I look at each other with wide eyes…Chota13?! We know him from the Amazing Race episode we were just talking about! We look over at the booth where he is sitting and Isabel says to him that we know him from television and he smiles and says “Amazing Race” and gives us a thumbs up. She also arranges for us to get a photo with the man himself. Sidenote: in the episode, the contestants had to solve a graffiti pictogram and present their guess at the phrase to Chota13. If they got the phrase correct, he would hand them their next clue. If they guessed incorrectly, he would send them to try again. El speaks with him briefly and learns that he does not speak English and only knew the right phrase to earn a clue. We take our photos and thank him for his time. 

Frankly, I would not have found it nearly as interesting wandering Comuna 13 by myself. To be able to roam the area with the people, like Nubia, who live here added to our enjoyment. We walk past a group of break dancers practicing their craft continuously. There’s probably about ten of these guys- some older who have been doing it for a while, as well as some younger guys who are working to hone their moves through practice. Then, when they notice enough people have gathered to watch a performance, they start the music and begin a show. The performance lasts about 10 minutes and most of the dancers take some sort of “solo”, stepping to the middle of the mat and doing something impressive before ending by pulling another dancer in to hand the solo spot off to. From these solos you could tell who the seasoned vs. the up-and-comers are. In fact, when they were in practice mode, there were two young ladies who were showing the boys a thing or two with their impressive moves, though they turned into spectators once the show started. At the end, the hat gets passed around and the crowd disperses, while practicing resumes until the next crowd amasses. 

the top video (5m41s) highlights the routine. the bottom video (1m22s) highlights the athletic ability of these dancers.

At some point though, around 3:00pm, Isabel drops a bomb on us! El and I had a minimal breakfast and nothing since, as we know we have a food walking tour scheduled for tonight at 4:30. So, when Isabel tells us our next stop on our tour is lunch, we panic a little. We have prepared for that, not for this. Before we can even argue, we are arriving at a place that she must bring all of her groups to, as they all know her. We quickly decide at the very best, we are going to split one lunch plate instead of each getting our own. The platters are basically a grilled meat of choice, with potato, salad, and rice. Against our better judgement, we take the pork. Having not eaten all day, we are fine, but, as expected, it starts to cut into the space we had reserved for the tour we have this evening. After lunch, we meet our driver and he takes us to the park where we are set to meet our guide. We say our goodbyes, knowing that we will see Isabel again on Thursday. With only 15 minutes to spare, we review the meeting point directions. He is on time and we get started straight away. Jhoan is quite personable and starts us off heavy and does not let up. The tour is called “10 Tastes of Medellín”. I thought this was a little odd as the food tours we have done in the past are usually five (maybe six) bites and not 10! We knew it was going to be rough. He starts us off with a ground beef and potato empanada, followed by a fried mozzarella stick with pineapple sauce. The empanada is very tasty, but the mozz stick is nothing out of the pedestrian range, even with the fruit sauce. On our way to the next food, we stop into the oldest church in the city. We do go in and spend a few minutes, but beyond a statue of Mary that was a frequent stop for a quick blessing before carrying out a hit by the criminal element, there wasn’t much inside. Next is a buñuelo that is a ball of flour and cheese (about the size of a lemon) that is either stuffed with mozzarella or not, and then deep fried. The inside is fluffy, a little sweet, and tasty. The next stop is a chicken empanada with a glass of passionfruit juice. Sadly, we are both starting to feel our fullness and ask to share one pastry. It is OK. I had one of these yesterday. It’s weird in that the chicken inside is shredded to the point of a paste, so the consistency is a little off putting. Again, it tastes OK, and I wonder how this, and the mozz stick and buñuelo for that matter, made it to the list of great foods we should be served on this tour. Whatever. We press on. We come across a fresh fruit cart and Jhoan orders one dragonfruit that the vendor slices and serves. We also get a new fruit, called a mangostino that looks like a small pomegranate with large pods containing pits inside. The vendor peels it and we each take a pod. It’s not bad, but I am starting to not enjoy this as I am so full and the stops are happening one after another without a break or much of a walk between them. Next up is arepa puess. Jhoan asks if we want one or two and if we want the option with shredded cheese sprinkled on top or a block of grilled cheese served on top (open face sandwich style.) We go for the sprinkled and share options. The single item is served to us. It is about the circumference of a small plastic plate- like six inches across. It is oozing molten cheese and after the first bite I tell Jhoan I am throwing in the towel. I will not eat another bite of this and probably won't have anything at the next stop. While we sit chatting and digesting, Jhoan excuses himself to head off to get us a glass of some fruit juice called chontaduro. It is not anything we have had before and we agree it tastes like a Christmastime tart- like an aromatic dessert- think plum pudding if you’ve had that. It’s not bad, but I would not order another myself. It’s also thick- like tomato juice. At this moment, Jhoan pulls out a bottle of aguardiente and asks if we would like to try it. This is the firewater we had the other night in a mixed drink and I think I would like to try it plain. It reminds us of sambuca- anise flavored liqueur and since I hate anise, it's definitely not for me. As we sit, people watching, it is apparent that this is one of the most tattooed societies we have seen. From teenagers to grandparents, seemingly everyone has more than less of them. I wish I thought to ask some questions about what the meaning behind some of them or are they just some random markings? Things you notice when you stop and observe. The last stop is a bakery called Pan de Abril. It is a bakery that supplies baked goods for many local restaurants and sells direct to customers in their shop. I tell him I just want a cup of coffee and El can have the dessert. The coffee is fine and the pastry comes cut into four pieces. El begins to eat what she describes as a caramel turnover. Once I heard that, I decided I would have a bite. Sadly, my first and only bite scalds my mouth and I can't even use coffee to cool it down! It’s uncomfortably hot and save spitting it out, there is not much I can do. It burns. After an hour and a half, we are so full, we exclaim "no mas!" and Jhoan walks us to the metro. We head back to the hostel to digest, discuss tomorrow and she watches TV while I journal with one eye on the tube.

Wednesday February 19

We try a different place on our block for breakfast. I get a cheeseburger and a Coke, while El opts for something decidedly more breakfast-y. We have to meet our coffee tour at 9:00am at the San Antonio Station and allow ourselves about 30 minutes. We get to the station and reread our communications with the guide and it says to meet at the tramway. We know the tram exists, but don't know exactly where it is. We head off the platform and downstairs to street level and standing right in front of us is the guide! We sign in and meet the rest of the group. Take the tram to a metrocable stop that we take up to Comuna 8. It’s a bit cloudy and we are so high up that it affects our views. We walk up the steep streets and then to the 200+ steps to the actual farm office. We are a group of about 15 and we are welcomed with a cup of hot, black coffee. We sit and sip, and listen to the history of the plantation, from the owner/daughter of the founder. As is so typical of the stories we hear from people who live here, it was a story of two men who had a bad situation, living in a gang controlled region, that saw an opportunity and did what they had to do to make things better for themselves and their families. The farm started with the patriarch of the family who got a job in construction, somewhere in this area. The problem was that because of the violence, he and his friend could not walk directly to work and found themselves having to walk to the top of a ridge to get around the problem areas. This ridge, not only stood a good half kilometer higher than the city of Medellín, it also straddled the border between Medellín and the adjacent city. As the men walked to work, one of them recognized this soil and altitude as a fertile coffee growing area. After some time, the man went to the city’s public records to see who actually owned the land. When he found out that the land was owned by a group of nuns that fled the area 60 years ago, he was pretty confident they weren’t coming back and the two men started growing coffee. At the time, a lot of coffee growers would sell their beans to large corporations for a fraction of their worth. These guys decided to sell their beans directly to coffee shops in the city for their fair value. They wound up supplying a shop in El Poblado owned by a German expat who recognized the quality of the product. He then taught them how to process the beans and instead of selling raw beans, they would now sell roasted beans. This shop owner eventually went into business with them and is today part of the exporting arm of the company. Once we finish the drink and the spiel, we walk en masse to the fields. We learn about the life cycle of the coffee bush and how to tell a ripe bean from an unripe one. Then, they issue each of us a collecting bucket with a belt attached and set us off among the bushes to pick as many ripe ones as we can. As you can imagine it is labor intensive and takes some getting used to. I wasn’t fast, but I was steady and collected as much as I could in the 20 minutes we were allotted. We collectively (all 15 of us) picked about two kilos in our time in the fields. Then, one of the workers demonstrates all of the steps that go into making their special coffee. From selecting the best beans, milling them, fermenting them, drying them, dehusking them, roasting them, and finally grinding them. Then he demonstrated the quintessential preparation of the perfect cup of coffee. We again enjoy another cup of coffee with a sweet roll. Afterwards, everyone is anxious to buy coffee, which of course, we did too. Truth to tell though, I didn't think the coffee was anything special to taste, but I was happy to support this local family who turned a bad set of circumstances into an opportunity that by all accounts is thriving. Further, they hire local kids as well as folks from a local rehab facility who are looking to make some money- occupational therapy I suppose, as they get paid by the kilo to pick the beans. I am glad we were part of it. Afterwards, the skies have cleared a bit and on our way back down to the metrocable, we stop at the overlook again for a photo op before making the last leg of the trek back to the beginning. Since we don’t have any plans for this afternoon, we decide to go to the Museum of Memory which is a tribute to the victims of the violence over the last 30 years or more. The museum is free, but only one large and one small room have exhibits. There is only a little English among the narrations on the wall, so I am through faster than most. It doesn’t take us that long and we find ourselves trying to decide on our next stop. The weather is good, so we are looking for anything that would take advantage of the lack of rain instead of heading into another museum that we can push until Friday. We pick the neighborhood of Envigado which is supposed to be a very green, middle class neighborhood. It’s only about 3:30 and we are getting a little hungry, so we look up some food options in Envigado. El finds a recommendation, but is not near the metro station and we will have to take a bus. Not sure if it is a metro bus or a collectivo, but we are ready for either. We find the stop and wait for the next, which does arrive in about 15 minutes. Well, it turns out to be a 43 minute bus ride to an area that I am pretty certain is outside the city limits. As we get off the bus, sure enough we spy a street sign pointing this direction to Medellín. We are not rural, though we did drive through some farmland on the way here, but this is a much less populated area- and from the looks of it, where some serious money resides. We eat dinner at a place called Sancho Paisa which is I guess like a local Chili’s or TGI Friday’s. We have already established that the food here is not wonderful, but there are good enough offerings that we will find something. We share an appetizer of empanadas and each get the "national dish” once again called bandeja paisa. It’s a plate with fresh avocado, ground beef, rice, beans, sausage, fried pork belly, plantain, a single arepa and a fried egg. We both opted without morcilla (blood sausage). We agree tonight's offering is better than the plate we shared our first night. It’s still not super hot (temperaturewise), which is weird, but with the addition of spicy salsa and chimichurri, this is a lot better, but still has us scratching our heads as to why this is the "national dish”. After dinner we each get a coffee and split a chocolate flan, which is very good. We also look at our options, learning from the waiter that the bus only runs about once every two hours (yeah, we are out there). Instead, for a few dollars more, we can take an Uber direct to the hostel. That’s what we decide to do. The car drops us in front of the hostel, but we aren't ready to turn in yet- even though tomorrow is our early day. It is only 8 o’clock so we walk around the block to find a place for a beer. The birria place downstairs from the hostel could work as a last resort as it was pretty small, the beer selection weak, and stools uncomfortable. Before we make it the full way around, we spot a hostel on our street called Viajero. They have an open veranda and serve beer. We are good for at least one round, while I journal and El catches up on some knitting. We stay only for most of one beer. The draft price is significantly higher than the price on the “promo” board which clearly reads “beer 2 draft x16k pesos” to me that is 8,000 each for 2 draft beers. When I step up to the bar and order 2 draft beers, he pours as expected into pint glasses. There is only one beer on draft. As I step over to pay, he charges me 36,000 pesos. When I protest, he tells me that the draft beer in the promo comes in small glasses. He senses my disappointment and offers me a free draft tomorrow night. I have serious doubts of me cashing in on that offer. We call it a night and get ready for our early morning. 

Thursday February 20

The only thing we have planned for the day is a day trip to Guatapé. When researching the excursion, it looks like all companies do the same basic format, it’s just that most of them do it by bus and we are doing it by private car. No matter who you go with, though, it is a 10-11 hour day. We are going with Isabel who did our Comuna 13 tour. We spoke with her the other day and asked if she would be willing to leave a little early, not only to miss the rush hour traffic, but in order to get us to the stone before the heat of the day. She was willing and picked us up at 7:10am. We still hit traffic, but this city’s traffic problem is an epidemic that will never be completely escapable. In fact, as we learned the other day when Isabel met us with a driver, every weekday is assigned two numbers between 0 and 9, and based on the last digit of your license plate you are not allowed to drive…at all, on the day of your plate. Her plate ends in 7, therefore she cannot drive on Tuesdays. Hence, why she had to hire a driver for the day. Today, is Thursday and why we don’t have a driver, but are instead going in her car. The drive is about two hours and our first stop is La Piesta, the stone. 

We knew ahead of time that it is a 740 step ascent to the top. El and I have actually been practicing over the past couple of weeks at work. We both work in 10 story buildings and walk up and down three times at lunch time. It is true that the first couple of days were a little challenging, but once beyond the initial aches, it wasn’t undoable and I knew I had this. So, I kept at it and sure enough, it paid off. I am not saying it was easy, but I saw plenty of people on the way up suffering the way I expect I would have if I didn’t start slow a couple of weeks back. It took me 16m48s to make it up, stopping to admire the view along the way. I am proud to say I made it up without the need for either of the first aid stations or the seemingly random shrine to the Virgin Mary about half way up- the bottom seemed more appropriate for those that endorse such a thing- but that’s what makes the one half way up so curious. Anyway, once at the top, there’s not much going on. A few gift shops and girls hawking bottles of “agua naturales,” but basically, once you get your obligatory photos and catch your breath, there’s not much of a reason to hang around as we can see from the top that the parking lot is filling up and buses are disembarking- and those stairs aren’t all that wide for my fat ass and the others making their way up. 

So we head down sooner than later. There are a few cafés and restaurants at the bottom and we head to a café to get a coffee so that we can take some pictures that require a purchase. Turns out to be one of the best cups of coffee we will have. After we meet up with Isabel, we head to the town of Guatapé. It’s only about 20 minutes away and is a small, mostly carless, town. You are required to park in designated lots and walk into the pedestrian zone. Our first stop in town is the church, which I don’t usually care about, but this one had a wooden ceiling and columns, which I can’t remember seeing before. As we exit, I need to find a bathroom, so we make our next stop a café for a rest, a bathroom, and a coffee. I get a hot chocolate while El tries something we see on a lot of menus...a lemonade mixer. You order a lemonade and they add either other juices, liquor, beer, or in this case, coffee. It’s served over ice and it’s not as bad as it sounds, but I most certainly wouldn’t order a whole glass for myself. Once we are settled up, we head to lunch.

Over our coffee, we talk to Isable about other Colombian foods as we have really only had the bandeja paisa and street food so far. I wonder what other Colombian foods there are. She describes a couple of different things, though admits that you can't easily get everything everywhere. One restaurant may have tamales, while another would have soup, but maybe not both. On the way through town, El spots a shop with handmade crafts that she wants to buy before we leave and this is as good a time as any. Meanwhile, Isabel goes down the block and returns a few minutes later to report the good news/bad news. She went to the restaurant to see if they had tamales. He says not only do they not have tamales, we just missed the tamale truck a few minutes ago! But, the good news is that if we promise to eat in his place and buy two, he will procure tamales. Well, since we were eating there anyway, he had himself a deal. After El makes her purchase, we go upstairs to get lunch. We start with a bowl of soup called ajiaco and it is a somewhat sour potato soup with shredded chicken. It is served with a side of white rice, an arepa, ¼ avocado, a little cup of heavy cream, and a little cup of capers. The soup is very tasty, though not very hot (temperaturewise). This was, so far, the best food I have had in this country, and the addition of the capers made it even better. I didn’t think I needed the heavy cream, so I just enjoyed it as is. Then came the tamale. Now, I love tamales- usually the Mexican type that are roughly the size of a phone and wrapped in corn husk. This thing was the size of a small football, filled not with a tablespoon or so of filling, but an entire chicken thigh- bones and all in addition to a chop size piece of fried pork as well as mixed vegetables. This was wrapped in plantain leaves which did not flavor the masa the way a banana leaf can. With a side of muy picante salsa, it was my second favorite food I've had here (and I am talking about Colombian food, not counting the excellent dinner we had the other night at Ritwal, that was decidedly not necessarily Colombian.) After lunch we head to the old town of El Peñol. Where, at some point in the 1970’s the government said to an entire town, the town of El Peñol, that they were going to build a hydroelectric dam right here and that everyone needed to move. Providing them a new plot of land about 2 km away. They moved everyone, tore down the town and flooded it to create a reservoir for the dam. The reservoir then created a very desirable waterfront property that today is home to some serious money- including a few in the Escobar empire. We take a boat ride around the reservoir and get a little of the history. It only runs about 40 minutes and is a nice way to end the day. We do, on the way out, stop at The Replica which is a little installation where they have built a replica of the town center of the old town as a tribute to the memory of its existence. It’s more of a spot for magnets and t-shirts than a tribute, but since there will always be a market for trinkets, the old town is unlikely to be forgotten anytime soon. This is our last stop for the day and we head back to the hostel afterwards. I am not in the car two minutes before falling asleep and wake about two minutes before the two hour trip ends. We say our goodbyes and bid each other adieu. El and I run up to the room and reconfigure our bags for the evening. Not needing food, we decided to head to a spot with a couple of metal bars. They are near San Antonio metro station, which we already know is dicey during daylight hours and already plan to Uber home, not looking to chance walking through it at night. The metro, during rush hour, is possibly the most crowded I have ever seen a metro car...in any city. The cars are packed so tight that when the door opens and only one person exits the car, only one gets in, and no one seems to think it should be any different. The trains come every two minutes and repeat one, two or three exit and the exact amount get on, leaving a throng, us included, waiting for the next train. By some miracle, a virtually empty train arrives in the station and the entire platform rushes to fill the void. We luckily get a spot near the door and the rest of our ride is uneventful. Crammed, but uneventful. We take a moment to get our bearings with the maps. We can take the tram a few stops and then walk or we can just walk 13 minutes to the bar. Some of the bars on my list open at 6:00, while others open at 7:00. It is 5:30, so we just go for the walk. Again, rush hour, streets are packed and the sidewalks aren't all that wide so if your path takes you past a bus stop, or a busy street food vendor, you will have to stop and renegotiate your path to get you by and on your way. We made it to the first spot called Retro Rock Bar. It looks like he is opening as we arrive- though he tells us that he does not open until 7:00. D’oh. We map out the second place nearby and it is only a five minute walk. We arrive at La Jaus Rock Club and they are in full swing. The music is good. More new wave than metal, but we like new wave too. We have a very friendly waiter and I wouldn't mind staying longer, but one beer does it. We head off for the Retro Bar, it is after 7:00 and the walk is only a few minutes. The music decidedly more heavy. Some I know, some I don't. We sit with beer, journal and knitting while we continue our Scrabble game. About one beer in, a man approaches us to tell us that a group of them are going to be filming something for Instagram and Facebook and wanted to ask our permission, though more like giving us an opportunity to move if we want. We ask if he needs us to move, which he does not. Seconds later they are in full video mode...which is right about the time I realize I need to pee and get another beer. Now I am stuck. No matter, how long could this go on for? About 15 minutes later they wrap up their project- which sounds like they are holding a fundraiser to benefit a local animal shelter. I get my beer and ask the video guy about other metal bars in the area. He makes some recommendations and after this beer is done, we head for one of them, close by. This place is cool. More classic rock than metal but we are getting tired and El hasn't slept all day. The music selection is interesting. They just got done playing Pink Floyd’s Lucifer Sam and as we call our Uber to leave for the night, the bartender comes to me and asks if I have any objection to him playing Floyd’s Interstellar Overdrive in its entirety. No objection from me, though we expect our Uber will arrive...hell, I expect to be back at the hostel and in bed before the song is over! No issues with any of that.

Friday February 21

Our only plan for the day is a dinner at 7:00pm. We are planning to use today to knock off some items that we had been saving for rainy days. I wake around 6:00am and start reviewing the options. I also make note of times they open and what is in their area. Our first stop is the San Pedro Cemetery, near the Hospital metro stop. Well, we do grab a coffee and pastry from a bakery on the way. As we walk, we can tell we are getting closer as store fronts are changing from mobile phone shops and clothing to more headstone fabrication and flower merchants. The cemetery is free to enter and roam. Sadly, we seem to be in an internet deadspot and cannot access the map via QR code. 

The history of this cemetery is basically that it was started by a few rich families in the 1800’s. As people in these families died, they would be buried or interred next to each other. Today, this is the inner ring of the grounds. Those who could not afford the inner ring were relegated to the outer ring, which is, of course, the most crowded- mostly crypts. The money built mausoleums and installed marble sculptures- using marble imported from Italy. It includes important people in Colombia’s history- presidents, statesmen etc. The cemetery itself does not rank on a scale of beauty. Many of the mausoleums are either in disrepair or neglected. While some, even the one of a former president, sits withered to where the etchings are almost unreadable. I always like walking along the crypt walls and seeing the personalizations made by families- and I still see some black humor in the eviction notices applied to some crypts that explain that this family has not paid their upkeep bill and if the cemetery does not receive the funds, they will be forced to disinter the remains. Now, the circumstances that lead to this moment, I can only guess . And sometimes my guesses make me laugh- though I am sure it is no laughing matter for the family. We make our way through and out quickly, getting back to the metro down the street easily. The next stop is the Botanical Gardens that many people tell us is the “most beautiful place in the city”. We find it easily and it is free to enter and wander. There are many microclimates within to promote biodiversity. We look at the map and decide we would collectively like to visit the orchid exhibit, butterfly house, a spice garden and medicinal garden. The first stop is the orchid exhibit. Evidently there are 25,000 species of orchids and 4,500 of them are native to Colombia. Upon arrival we ask the security guard where the entrance is only to be pointed to a sign proclaiming “closed for private event”. OK. On to the butterfly house. Here we learn that you can only enter with a tour and only with an 8,000 peso ticket. We got to the gift shop to buy our tickets, but the clerk tells us that since it is a little cool right now, the butterflies are less active and we would be better off coming back in a couple of hours! Well, I am not interested in hanging here a couple of hours. We move on to the spice and medicinal gardens that are on the other side of the grounds, walking through ecosystems such as rain forest and lakes. The gardens are much less exhibits than a display of garden beds each with different plants, and frankly several appear overgrown. The groundskeepers keep the walkways very tidy, but it looks like someone needs to get to doing some weeding. I am beginning to wonder about why this city is known as the City of Eternal Spring. I know I have heard about the floral industry here, but I am a little surprised, being the end of summer here, how little things look in bloom. Turns out it has to do with the temperature being a consistent 75° all year round is the springtime tie-in. And you'd think with the amount of rain they get and the warm sunshine might make the city, or at least the botanical gardens, would be more picturesque. Our walk through the rainforest resulted in several bug bites that are now causing me to scratch...a lot. I decide to let El wander the garden beds while I seek out a bench to apply some moisturizer and journal in the meantime. She’s not long and we head back to the butterfly house to check on their activity. We buy the tickets and wait for the 11:00 tour. We are met by a guide at the door and he explains more than I ever knew about butterflies in the span of about four minutes. Each plant in the house is here as a breeding ground for a different kind of butterfly. Once he walks us around the room, we are free to walk around and take pictures- keeping our eyes on the ground to prevent stepping on a resting butterfly. There are stations around the walkway with fermenting fruit in them that attract the butterflies so you can stop and see which species is grabbing a snack before flitting away. 

This turns out to be the best part of the botanical garden- as I ask myself why exactly is this on so many lists of “must do” in this town. We hop back onto the metro and head to Acevedo Station to catch the K line metrocable. We take it to Santo Domingo, like we did the other day, except this time the car to Parque Arvi is open. It costs 13,700 each way and takes about 30 minutes each way. We have been reading and heard from other travelers that the metrocable ride to Arvi is worth the price, but that the park itself (which has its own entrance fee) is not really worth it. Describing it sort of like a second rate botanical garden. There are plenty of souvenir stands and tables selling food and drink. I tell El that I am content to sit in the shade and journal while sipping a bottle of ice cold water, while she explores and goes through the park if she wishes. She opts to just grab some pictures on the grounds near the entrance and head back. There are some places that you have to get to before realizing that it’s just not worth paying more money to continue. We are both happy that we did the metrocable to the park. 

At a breaking point, we head back to Poblado station for lunch. There is a pizza place that has been recommended by two separate sources and is near to the hostel. We knew it was close to the hostel and once we find it we realize we have passed it a couple of times before now. We have a dinner reservation so we opt to share a single margarita pie. El with a beer and I with a Coke. It is constructed more like a flatbread pizza than a traditional pizza crust, but the cheese, tomato (sauce and fresh), and basil combo is quite respectable. I don’t care for the crust, which tastes more like matzah than anything else. I would certainly come back here if we were here for longer. 

Reasonably comfortable, we don’t need more. I had thought of an additional museum stop for after lunch, but the time is getting away from us and by the time we get to the room to change for dinner, get back to the metro, ride to San Antonio station, go to and through the museum, and grab an Uber to dinner. I think we are just going to go to find a post office, head back to the room and relax before we head to dinner. While we are out chasing a post office I see something I have waited all trip for- a streetlight performance. I had heard about intersections, where as a way to make money, when the traffic light turns red, a group of 5 or so people will run into the crosswalk and perform some sort of dance routine, break dance, or some gymnastic display. Meanwhile, one guy is running from car to car for tips, while another keeps his eye on the lights to signal the group to get out of the crosswalk before the traffic light turns green. Sometimes, bystanders like myself, will stop and enjoy the performance and kick some money into the hat. Our reservation is at 7:00 at Colosaal and the restaurant is very close to the one we ate at the other night. As we know that at this hour, we need to call between 6:00 and 6:15 for the Uber. We arrive in fine time and it was raining. I will say that I do not ever recall showing up to a restaurant and having attendants meet you at the car with waiting umbrellas to walk you to the door! The view looked quite similar to the one we had at Ritwal the other night. We have a disappointing problem with the menu. Almost every restaurant in this city that we have been to, has a QR code on the table to access the menu. However, the light in the room is so low that not only is it hard to get the code to access the site, the place is remote enough that there is weak or no cell signal, so they have to provide you with the WiFi key, then once you access the menu via code, you see they have two menus. El can only access one menu, and I can access both, but the translation feature does not work, so I have to keep backing out and reaccessing it and then eventually links that weren't there before begin to appear. It was frustrating. We are seated in the Rooftop Sushi Bar. The view over the city equally spectacular to the other night, unfortunately, the rain tonight is obscuring much of the valley below. 

We start dinner with a cocktail and a couple of pieces of sushi. I get a gin and tonic and order one piece each of salmon and tuna sushi. The waiter asks if I prefer lime or cucumber in my cocktail. Having never considered cucumber, I ask for it as the bartender recommends, which turns out to be both. I don’t know that this will change the way I consume G&Ts but, it was a refreshing addition to the drink. The sushi, on the other hand, was weirder than it should have been. Sushi: rice and fish with soy sauce, wasabi, and pickled ginger on the side. I have had it that way everywhere. That’s even how they do it in Japan! These, though. They have all of the above, but they add a drizzle of some sort of sweet sauce and sprinkle it with something. It’s too dark for me to actually see what is going on with this plate. The sushi is OK, but I don’t need to make a dinner of it- though I was considering a bowl of ceviche. 

Next up is an appetizer of cream of onion soup. This turns out to be one of the best things we've eaten in this country! Super rich, but the onion flavor is just exquisite. 

For dinner I order smoked seafood with pork belly over coconut rice. The seafood was two prawns and three mussels. The pork belly tasted like Chinese spare ribs, and the rice didn’t really have much if any coconut flavor, more like Chinese fried rice without the soy sauce. The portion size is perfect. The pork belly and rice are very tasty, while the prawns and mussels are a little fishy for my taste- not spoiled, just “of the sea”. For dessert we split a chocolate cake served a la mode with a coconut tuile. And a glass of Grand Marnier caps the meal. However, as our meal was progressing, we could see that they were setting the room up for something...guessing a wedding reception or rehearsal dinner? As the party begins to arrive, an actual DJ sets up and before we know it, the music goes from dull, polite background music to something straight out of a rave. Thumping bass to rattle our wine glasses and at a volume that prevents conversation. Thankfully we are wrapping it up. We Uber back to the room and don’t need to go out for more beer. We are leaving tomorrow and will do our packing in the morning. We are both tired from the walking we did today. Even though it is summer here, the temperatures have mostly been in the high 70’s and low 80’s. Walking in that sunshine can be exhausting. We are sleeping fast.

Saturday February 22

Happy 26th anniversary to my best travel partner, for another successful vacation! I do have a couple more ideas for today though. Our plane does not leave until 11:10pm, so we don’t have to be at the airport until 8:00pmish. It will take us about an hour and a half or so to get from the hostel to the airport. We also have a fancy lunch scheduled today at noon. We pack and check out, but leave our luggage in the lockers downstairs. This will allow us to move more freely without bags for the day. The first stop today is DHL. Why DHL? Well, we are learning (without explanation) that Colombia somehow does not have a postal system per se. I guess that has to cut down on the junk mail around here...but also begs the question of how they get things we get by mail. Nonetheless, this is why when we asked a few locals yesterday where we can buy stamps for postcards, the answer always ended with...I don’t know. Someone did point us in the direction of a sending office, and when we finally found it, it turned out to be a DHL Office...you know, like FedEx. They were closed when we arrived, but the sign on the door does read “send your postal cards here”! They open at 8:00am. We walk up to the office which is a stall in the mall. El has two cards, one written and one not. She asks if she should buy stamps or bring the cards back once written. The clerk says he will be here until 6:00pm, so, just bring them back. We find a café in the mall and sit, drink coffee, write postcards, knit, and basically, wait for our lunch. It’s now 10:48. El sends the postcards…US$4.88 each! We sit at the café until 11:45. We have noon reservations at a restaurant called El Cielo. The menu is called “The Experience” and is a prix fixe and when we arrive we learn that it is 19 courses! I suppose in my research I had the opportunity to see that, but I was just as surprised as El to learn it. Anyway, they waste no time starting with the courses. At first I am taking photos and notes as the menu only lists the course names and not the actual presentation. Soon after, we realize, El can take the notes, while I focus on the photos. The meal is timed out perfectly at 3 hours 45 minutes. 

The Experience. The way they introduce it to us is that the country of Colombia has many different regions and that each course is attempting to highlight ingredients or methods of preparation that could be found in each of these diverse areas. As each course was presented, our waiter would start with the state or department each bite represents. While the overall experience was excellent, not every bite was sublime. I will take the opportunity to highlight some of the parts that were more interesting with photos.

Toalla- well, technically, not a food course. This was the presentation of hot, damp towels for hand cleaning before the food starts to arrive. 

Welcome Shot- soursop sorbet with aguardiente, and cocoa nibs

Carne Oreada- smoked, miced pork with spicy chives, onion, pepper, soy sauce.

Choclo Y Quesito- cornbread with cream cheese

Belmira- trout with a lemon, tangerine, and lime foam

Cuca y Atun- tuna and honey vanilla

Chocolaterapia- as the waiter clears the table he instructs us to remove any rings from our fingers. El complies. I don’t wear rings. Two, large metal bowls are placed in front of us. Next arrives a plate with a glass covering- think bell jar. He explains that this course is to highlight the cocoa regions of the country, but also served in a playful way to recall childhood memories. With the explanation and some demonstration- you understand the idea is to pick up one of the chocolate balls and hold in the palm of one hand as you gently cover the ball with your other hand on top. You then, careful, squeeze the two hands together. The pressure will crack the chocolate ball and the inside, rose flavored white chocolate liquid will be in your hands. You will then lick your fingers clean…presumably as you did when you were a child. I let out an audible groan as El decides she is all in. He pulls the glass up, assures us that he will be bringing a warm water rinse afterwards to clean up, and walks away. Knowing there is no way on Earth that I am going to subject myself to two hands of sticky, I opt to put the entire ball of chocolate in my mouth at once and allow my teeth to substitute for the hand pressure. El performs as instructed, while I take photos.

Sopa- a single, bite sized tamale with corn and cheese. It is sat in a soup bowl, while a broth of coconut, fish, and ashote(?) grass is poured around it. Finished with drops of flavored oil and a mango spice. It is a little too fishy for El, but I find it pleasant.

Arbol De La Vida- this is called “tree of life”. It is a traditional bread of yucca and costeño cheese- a soft, salty cheese from the Caribbean region. It’s tasty and served with smoked butter- but as you can imagine a little heavy.

Costas Colombianas- this is a single, grilled prawn served with coconut emulsion and soursop vinegar. Very good and with there was more. 

Vegetal- before the course is served, as with every course, our silverware is switched out in preparation of the next item. Our fork and knife are replaced with a curiously frozen set. We wait for explanation. As our plates are served, we learn that there is a single, grilled asparagus spear on the plate. It is covered over by a handful of salad greens. On the side, a single scoop of smoked coconut ice cream. It is then, we learn that the idea is to use the frozen utensils to put pieces of the ice cream on the salad, and when it melts, it will serve as the salad dressing. What an odd pairing. Not all too surprising, it works and the flavor of the smoked coconut flavor mixing with the grilled asparagus was just right. Very creative.

Trucha Blanca- white trout with chontaduro and whiskey sauce. Served with braised leeks with a citrus salad. 

Barbosa- 15 hour pork belly served with arracacha (like a parsnip native to the Andes) and pineapple with sugar cane vinegar and a pork/plum gravy.

Mandarina- this is palate cleanser. Tangerine mousse with tangerine jelly. It is served frozen and has the consistency of styrofoam, but works extremely well for it’s palate cleansing purpose.

Torta Envinada- this is a plum wine cake, served with plum wine ice cream, with a plum wine reduction pourover presented with chips of meringue and candied almonds. It is traditionally served when a young woman turns 16 years old.

Lulada- this is a fruit cup made from lulo fruit (from Wikipedia: sweet, acidic, and sour taste with tangy and refreshing tropical kiwi, lime, and citrus notes. The fruits also have a subtly rhubarb-like nuance, and the flavor will vary depending on the region and climate the fruit is grown in.) Well, it was not to either of our liking. OK to have tried it, but certainly not pleasant. In fact it was burn-your-mouth sour apple flavored.

Cefetal- as essential in this country, the meal winds down with coffee. He performs the proper pourover technique that we learned about on our coffee tour earlier in the week. Including “rinsing the filter” to remove chemicals that can affect the flavor of the coffee.

Petits- these were a selection of sweets served with the coffee. One was a coconut pastry ball with coconut cream, one was a guava jellyroll, and the third was like a caramel cream puff. All tasty, but I was partial to the coconut. 

Velaterapia- this was the “therapy” course.

And as we finish, we are surprisingly, not uncomfortably full. They even tacked a complimentary course at the end as a way to wish us a happy anniversary. It’s the only day of the year, I don’t lie. You see, every time a restaurant or a hotel asks me if there is something we are celebrating, I always say our anniversary. I mean, we don’t celebrate birthdays or promotions or other professional milestones like other people do, so, as far as I am concerned, it’s always the anniversary of something...and there’s no chance of them ever singing and clapping in the middle of a restaurant. But, sometimes, they do recognize the occasion with some sort of complimentary item. Well, today is our actual anniversary- of our wedding and not some other lame thing to commemorate. So, today they presented us with a white chocolate candle with dark chocolate crumbles as well as a glass of cava, on the house. We sit quietly. Taking in the moment realizing each of us wouldn't want to be in this spot with any other person on Earth. The last “course” El is not sure what the menu means. She tells me it has the word for “therapy” on it. Thinking back to other tasting menus we have had, I assume the last thing they will bring is possibly a single bite of chocolate playfully listed as “chocolate therapy”- though I figure if she knows the Spanish word for therapy, the first part is not chocolate. Our waiter approached the table with what looked like a lit candle in a glass box. Holding a demitasse spoon in one hand and the candle in the other, he asks us to hold out our hand, palm up as he ladles a spoonful of the now melted wax and easily pours it into my palm. It is not hot like dripping wax, just warm. He instructs us to rub our hands together. We realize it is some sort of skin oil with a pleasant smell- so whether it was “aroma therapy” or “skin therapy” I don’t know, but certainly a unique way to end our meal. Our waiter is very appreciative of our business and interest in what he was delivering. Clearly the best meal we have had in this country! 

As we end this trip, I mentioned at the beginning that the idea of visiting a place that is off many people’s radar is appealing to me. And I would certainly think this qualifies. Like our last couple of trips. Yeah, many people have gone to Spain, but San Sebastian is not the tourist hotspot (for Americans) that Madrid or Barcelona are. Many go to Tokyo, but our time in Fukuoka was exciting for me because I feel like I am learning from people more adventurous than I and not just doing what everybody else is doing. And while Bogotá is not exactly the premier vacation destination, spots in Europe are, Medellín is even less so. However, meeting other travelers during our time here, I can see this is going to become a popular destination. We met two bachelorette parties that were on their way to Cartagena. And lots of others that were here for similar reasons that we are. I did enough research to feel relatively safe and as we were ready to leave, I would say at no time were we made to feel unsafe or uncomfortable in any situation. I would like to think that there were some decisions that we made that could have kept us out of negative situations (taking an Uber home instead of walking to the metro after 10:00pm, for example). On our first day, we took a walking tour that took us to some less savory areas and we learned the phrase "don't give papaya”. Not sure what the origin of that is, but the way it was explained was that giving papaya is marking yourself as a target. And as the guide demonstrated, some people wear jewelry and watches in public spaces, while others leave that stuff home. Some wear backpacks with zippers partially open- others carry the pack in front of them. Some people take one handed selfies that leave the phone vulnerable to be snatched- others have their friends take a two-hands-on-the-phone photo. Some even walk around with phones hanging out of their pockets- others use lanyards. All these things are giving papaya, or giving others opportunity to do nefarious things. I like to call it common travel sense, but I like the phrase, "don't give papaya” better. As we walked through the markets and plazas, even though we didn’t see any crime, we did see a lot of people giving papaya. Not us. And because of it, we are here to recommend this city to people who are looking for an up and coming vacation spot before it gets overrun with tourists!