I catch the bus and it is mostly going flawlessly. Of course, though, it took longer then anticipated. At this point you can just laugh at this common theme throughout Colombia. Again just calculate twice as much time as Google Maps is saying. It is still the Semana Santa (Easter) and everything is bustling with Colombian activity. Guatapé is supposed to be one of the most colorful cities of Colombia. In my opinion it lost a little bit of flair, as there is too many ugly hotels around already. You can still find some beautiful streets, that show you it’s charm.

My initial plan was to head to Guatapé for one night. Head to San Rafael the next and then head back to Guatapé for the following night. My plans were changed since everything was booked out in San Rafael. Something to keep in mind, when traveling during Semana Santa. So I book another night in the hostel. I mean, for six bucks I can’t complain. I also meet Raphael. A guy I met in El Salvador. We never exchanged numbers, but here we meet again 1800 km south… Tell me what are the chances? He reminds me of an interview an El Salvadoran did with us. If you want to see me struggling with Spanish check it out.

The next day I head to El Peñól del Guatapé. It is a big rock, which gives you an amazing view of the surrounding area. Did I mention that it was Semana Santa? Because the rock was pretty packed with people. Everything was super crowded and it took me forever to get up and down again. The view was pretty good, but for me with the amount of people there not really enjoyable.

Tip: If you stay the night in Guatapé, head to El Peñól early. The day tours of Medellin arrive around 11 a.m.

See this gorgeous lake? It is artificial and created by a dam. There is a city submerged under it. Apparently the church is still peaking out. I decide to check it out and do a boat tour. The boat tour was pretty insignificant though. The only thing I worth mentioning, was that my ass hurt from sitting on the seats for an hour.

The next day I want to rent a scooter and check out San Raphael. In the hostel I meet Pawel. I share my plans with him and he wants to join. We search for a scooter rental. Once there they ask for a drivers license. Shit… I left mine in the big backpack in the hostel. Pawel doesn’t have a drivers license. Frustrated we head back. I get it and we get back to the rental. We get a scooter and cruise into the mountains. Neither the velocity or the fuel gauge work. Who needs those anyways? We get to the mountains and we can’t believe our eyes!

It starts to rain a little and it is quite cold. We push on to San Rafael. Winding through the curvy roads unbelievable scenery flashes in front of our eyes. After half an hour we reach the little village. Now this is what I’m talking about. No gringos around. There is a little ceremony in front of the church, where it seems almost the whole village has gathered. We have some cake and head to a river where you can swim. I let Pawel drive. Later he tells me that he doesn’t have a drivers license. Good that he just told me this afterward! For that he managed pretty well. We get to a spot and we can see how the rural parts celebrate the Semana Santa. They cook stews on the open fire, smoke joints, drink beer and relax with their families.

We explore the area more and hike through the jungle. It starts raining and we find a small roof, where we can stay. Here we want to wait until the rain stops. Until person appears. He seems to be very distressed. He has a little blood on his face. He seems pretty drunk. We ask ourselves what happened. He tells us that someone wants to kill him. Pretty crazy story and we were afraid to get involved. We escort him to the way we came from and get him to a restaurant, but we don’t want to get more involved.

We have to make a decision, if we still want to see the waterfall. We decide against it and start to head home. On the way home I often had the feeling that our scooter was out of fuel. Up the mountains it was rattling and making weird noises. The gauge didn’t work so I wouldn’t really know. Luckily we made it back to Guatapé right before dark and the scooter didn’t disappoint.

I head back to Medellin. It seems that Omid, Jolisa and Teresa made it to Medellin as well. We plan a picnic in the botanical garden. I’m glad to see Omid again. His attitude, his openness and willingness to share everything combined with the sentence “I’m so happy to be here” makes him just a fun person to hang around with.

We snack the food and chill in this heavenly place. By the way, foreigners can come for free to the Botanical garden in Medellin. I don’t like this discrimination, because locals have to pay to enter. Either everyone pays or no one… Otherwise it is a really beautiful place to be. Later we head out for something to eat and into the chaotic parts of Poblado. It reminds me of Amsterdam Centraal. A place that is only designed for tourists nowadays… Still we can have fun and go out right?

We end up in a club called Mad Radio. A really cool place to check out if you like Techno. They also stream their music and sometimes dj sets on their website.

After this, it is time for me to say goodbye. I will leave Latin America soon and I have to head to Bogotá. Five month have been gone by so fast. I got used to speaking Spanish and I got a little sad when I think about it. I will miss the crazy street foods, the snack shops located every corner and the crazy friendly people. Bogotá is elevated 2700m above sea level. Compared to Mexico city which is 2100 meters, I didn’t have as much problems here. The city itself is beautiful and ugly at the same time. The colonial part is very beautiful. The rest is plastered with different kinds of architecture.

I get reminded again how Latin America works when I want to use the busses. To be able to use it you need to have a card, or you can also ask the locals to let you in with their card. Most of the bus stops in Bogotá have entries and exits like a metro. I ask one person if I could pay him to let me in. He looks at me and just climbs over the gate. He looks at me again, like he invented the idea of free public transport. He inclines me to do the same. I am hesitant and a little afraid of the consequences. Then I just climb over and he looks at me with a big smile. I look back to the security. Phew, seems that no one cares. Oh Latin America… I will miss this attitude.

I stroll through the streets, until a spontaneous idea pops into my head. I should check out that mountain Monserrate. I head there and it is all uphill. I take a cable car and admire the pristine views from the 3000m above sea level. Here I begin to see the grasps of how big Bogotá really is.

I am enjoying the view. It is quiet up here and the air seems to be fresher. I walk around and find the Casa Santa Clara, a French villa up here. Yes it is a literal French villa that got imported from France in the 18th hundreds. Today it has been transformed to a really good restaurant. If you are there, I can definitely recommend to eat at the Casa Santa Clara

When I decided to head back down, I queue in the line and stumble once again upon the way Latin America works. Some people were cutting the line. Telling me they are one big group. First I was really angry at them. What do they think they are better then everybody else? At some point I just did the same and said I was belonging to their group. In my surprise I was not greeted by anger or mad people. It is just the way it is in Latin America. Additionally I was encouraged with a happy face and the words “Oh you learn fast.” They happily started a conversation without any anger or despise. At that point I must have made myself interesting to talk to. Half of the group is from the Dominican Republic. I told them that I have been there and you could see their faces light up in happiness. In the end couldn’t help it but just smile. These things make traveling so fun. Cutting the line would never go in Germany. YOu would have been stared to death by other people. But here it created a fun experience and was socially acceptable. More or less…

Until next time cheers!

Omid and I want to go to the barber. We find a cool one go. Omid is usually a very talkative person, who starts a conversation with everyone. He does it at the barbershop as well. I felt too tired to listen. It was hard to keep my eyes open. Halfway through, I notice that he also stopped the conversation and was almost falling asleep as well. Afterwards I start to look for analog films for my camera. This is where I stumble upon the problem of Latinos’ willingness to help. If they don’t know the answer, they still want to help you and just send you off to the next shop. This became a problem. I was sent all over town with the answer that the analog films I am looking for might be around the next corner. That evening I was not successful. I head back to the hostel feeling frustrated and defeated. The fact that I booked a party hostel just made it worse. I still fell straight asleep anyways. David was not pleased either that I accidentally booked a party hostel. We both were sleeping through it anyways. If you’re too exhausted you can sleep everywhere, but mistakes happen I guess. The next morning I wake up and I am back to my mission to find those camera films… I stumble into the same problem, though. Everybody is pointing me in different directions which is driving me crazy at some point.

Tip: If you are in central america and face a similar problem. Ask a few people and take the location that is named the most. This will lead to the most successful one.

I almost gave up. I get back to the others and I make one last effort and try to get to a mall, which a few people recommended. The others want to join so we grab a taxi. Here you can see the awesome personality of Omid. Five minutes in the car and he already starts a party with the taxi driver talking about salsa and latin music. What a legend!

We get to the mall and I immediately walk to the camera store. I almost jumped into the air when I saw that they had analog films for my camera. I happily bought five of them. Finally I can continue shooting analog pictures. Sadly the mall was directly located where David and me first got dropped off when we got to Santa Marta. So if we just took the time then I could have had amazing pictures of the lost city hike… What are you going to do? In hindsight everything seems to be so obvious.

After that small hustle we finally get to go to Palomino. Palomino is a small beach town located on the Caribbean coast. There we meet up with Jolisa and Teresa again. Basically most of the Gorillas, the hiking group to the lost city, is in Palomino. We hang out and still have lunch together. I guess when you experience something amazing together for four days you turn strangers into friends. I didn’t expect to go surfing in Colombia but the conditions are pretty nice.

You can see the crazy beach break. The wave is just chaotic. It reminds me of the northern sea chop I surfed in the Netherlands. Literally a random breaking wave on the banks. When I was there, there was a strong rip to the side as well. I went in anyways. One day it is even bigger than expected. I head out but get completely obliterated on the first bank. It is shallow with a big wave breaking every seven seconds. This means, that a wave will hit you every seven seconds. Barely time to navigate and paddle out. I am really scared not to get hit by one of those waves on the banks. Which of course was the case. The others sit at the beach chill and watch me. I almost gave up, while paddling out. I knew it was scary and I know it is not that fun when you’re scared. I am also pretty stubborn though. Maybe just one wave… After a long time I finally could paddle out. Finally a minute to breathe behind the breaking waves. It is still irritating seeing a wave rear and build up but then suddenly disintegrate. After another fifteen minutes I see a wave that could be surfable. I paddle until I feel it’s power. At this point habit takes over and I get to my feet. Once on the wave the drop and the sliding down the wave begins. In the beginning this feeling was normal. However as I slide down the wave I notice that this part is unusually long. I ask myself how big this wave actually is. While surfing this wave I felt really relaxed. This is so unusual for a big wave. A wave that big I have never surfed before… It was almost like time stopped. Feelings stopped. It was like a spiritual moment where nothing else mattered. Just me and this massive of a wave. Me and the ocean with it’s massive force almost being one. When I reached the bottom I stood up completely, which is another thing you rarely do on a surfboard. As I stand up I take a peak over my shoulder to see how big the water wall over my head really is. Wow! I was allowed to ride it in a particular way. A wave that was twice as big as me. After riding this wave way to relaxed the fear starts to kick in again. This is way too big for me! I immediately head back to the beach. I am done for that session. But damn was the feeling crazy as I realized I just surfed the biggest wave of my life. Some people of the group saw it. They confirm that this wave looked absolutely insane. Wow what an experience!

I like this place, so I decided to stay for a week. The others, however wanted to explore the most northern part of South-America. This place is a desert apparently. Yes, Colombia has a desert unbelievable right? Actually Colombia has two deserts. They head there and get into a roadblock of the indigenous people. The people ask for more territory and more support from the government. Meanwhile I stay in the jungle go surfing and sip on fresh coffee and eat french pastry.

When they came back, David and I decide to head straight to Medellin. The overnight bus is supposed to take 15 hours. At this point you probably know how it goes. These fifteen hours turned into agonizing 20 hours… What did you expect? Luckily, I slept through most of it, though. We get out and we get to see how crazy Medellin really is. The valley is completely build out. Buildings go as far as the eye can see. In the valley itself, as well as on the slopes. Food is sold everywhere and Salsa is blasting from every place. Usually I don’t like cities, but this one seems pretty charming to be honest.

In Medellin there are many communities and quarters. These are divided into 16 Comunas for administration. David reads in a guiding book about Medellin. This is what it said: Some of the Comunas are dangerous due to poverty, drugs and crime Quarters like Comuna 13 are to be avoided.

We talk to a few people and everyone seems to recommend us to go to Comuna 13. Do they want us killed? Do they not like us? We check the date of the book and it is from 2005. Today Comuna 13 is one of the most colorful and active quarters of Medellin. This change happened in 18 Years! We decide to see for ourselves. And we are stunned. Many street arts and graffities fill the street. Micheladas are being sold everywhere and music is playing everywhere. It is also known as the hip-hop quarter.

The smells of fresh Arepas, barbeque, beer, and mixed fruits get on to the lively street. It is also Samana Santa, the Easter week, which makes these streets extra packed also by Colombians. We stroll the colorful streets enjoy a fresh sugar cane juice and one or two Micheladas find our hand as well.

We leave the quarter slightly tipsy. It is very beautiful to see people enjoying themselves, when you know the history. It is probably less then 15 years past where this was one of the most dangerous quarters. I will make a separate blog post about the transformation of Medellin.

We want to check a small viewpoint in the center of Medellin. We get there and it starts raining. I wouldn’t even call that raining I would call it pouring. We gave up on the idea, found a local bar and got a beer while waiting for the rain to stop. Behind us there is salsa music blasting as loud as possible. Later we saw that someone was playing salsa on vinyl. It doesn’t get any cooler than this.

The next day we join a free walking tour. I expected it to be mediocre, but it was surprisingly good with loads of information. We heard a lot about the culture and the history. It was often really dark and saddening. As the guide told us how he was hiding in shootouts, saw his cousin getting shot and how the nation was betrayed by the extreme right, the extreme left AND the government. It almost brought tears to my eyes, as he told the stories of misery and betrayal. Still the Colombian people are smiling and enjoying the better times. They cling to the few hopes they had and hold on to them.

One example of hope was represented by the metro. Dio told us, that the metro is one of the most powerful symbols of hope for the people in Medellin. Nobody dares to scratch it, damage it, or put a graffiti on it. We took a closer look and it is actually true! The cable cars and the metro is really clean!

I head to Gutapé next. David decides to stay in Medellin. See you next time! Cheers!

Chaotic streets and crazy traffic greeted us once we got of the plane. It is just more chaotic in general I would say. This is not necessarily bad or good. It is just different. So we first had to adapt. We were really tired from the flight which was in the middle of the night. Our first flight went to Bogotá. Here we had a record time of 1 hour at the airport. We rushed through immigration. Running through security and then running to the gate only to see that everyone was still chilling there because the second flight was a little bit delayed. Phew it seems that my luck strikes again. This went pretty flawlessly. Remember the majority of flights in South America go through Bogotá. The airport is huge and you have to find the right gate. I’m not denying that this was not stressful.

In Barranquilla we didn’t do much, because Barranquilla has nothing special to offer. It is a car centric city. The loud traffic, the smog and smells seem pretty strange as we came from the chill beaches of Costa Rica. When we were looking for an atm we were reminded once more that we are now in Colombia. Most of the atms were carrying no cash at all. From here we take a bus to Santa Marta. We are reminded once more that the traffic is crazy. We arrive in Santa Marta and David decides to go out that night. I am quite tired so I go to bed. The next morning I hear that David went out and got robbed at night. Welcome to Colombia I guess.

Apparently he went out with a group. Went to a party and wanted to get back to the hostel. He just walked which can be dangerous in Santa Marta at night. If you go out and your hostel is not in the city center make sure you take an uber. Here is his experience of the night.

He thought the night was over and he was chilling in the hostel. He met a few other Germans and some Israelis. They wanted to go out too so he spontaneously joins them. The party is going well he is having drinks and is enjoying himself. At some point it is 3 a.m. and he wants to go home. He can’t seem to find the others so he goes alone. He wanders through the dark streets of Santa Marta. He left his phone in the hostel which is why he got lost in the streets. Asking some locals on how to get back to the hostel. After forty minutes wandering around he seems to find his hostel. Only problem two people approach him with a knife and cut off his way about 200 meters from the hostel. He gives them his wallet and runs into the hostel. Friendly reminder to only take cash with you when you go out and maybe one phone to get an uber or a taxi driver. Even then you’re not safe since the taxi drivers can kidnap you too!

The next day we head to Taganga. Here we meet up with Jolisa. Life works funny sometimes. I went to school with Jolisa and we haven’t had much contact and didn’t talk for years probably. Now it is like a classroom reunion. Old stories and names pop up. We laugh about the funny things that happened during our school time. It is also interesting to talk because everyone developed in different ways. We say cheers and here I realized that I’m not used to the crazy eyes of cheers in Germany. Every foreigner who has been to Germany knows what I am talking about. When you put your glasses together you have to hold eye contact with everybody.

Anyways David and I want to go see the Tayrona Park. You can charter a boat in Taganga. We got warned by Jolisa that it is going to be a bit bumpy. Well we go off and the first half hour is all great. But then the waves come in. It becomes scary. Especially because we heard that two people died prior two weeks ago in one of the boats. I see the waves and the boat flies up and down. My heart stops. Fear sets in. I know this feeling from surfing. But this is hits different. The waves are huge.

It gets to a point where I get a panic attack. I can’t watch the big waves hit the boat its too scary! I close my eyes and curl up. I start hyperventilating. The feeling of the boat flying up and then hitting the water again is terrifying. Every minute feels like an hour. I ask the driver how long it takes till we arrive. Internally I just wish to hug my girlfriend and see my family. My eyes are still closed but the bumps stop. I think that we finally arrived. I am relieved that we made it. Only to find out that this was just the first beach and we still need to ride 50 minutes more. Who would have thought this is so scary. Especially because I am a surfer and at least have some maritime insights… I know the feeling of paddling through waves going up and down. Who would have thought it would be so different on a boat?

I close my eyes again as we bump along those waves. At this point everything is drenched. I also grabbed something to hold on to. My arms are cramping up and I just wish to be somewhere else. I also can’t help but think about refugees that are not doing this for fun but because they have no other future. Doesn’t matter where in the world you are fleeing to if you are that desperate to get to the west to risk your life it must be pretty serious. Something we should keep in mind if we are debating about refugees. We arrive and I am just happy to be of the boat. I can’t believe we actually made it through. Happiness overcomes my whole body as my feet touch the sand of the beach.

We hike through the Tayrona Park but we can’t really enjoy it. We have to get back to Santa Marta to buy supplies for a 4 day hike in the jungle. We hustle through the Tayrona Park without a break. The beaches are beautiful but also treacherous. Apparently a lot of people drowned in the strong currents. There are some beaches where you are allowed to swim. They also have coastal guards on those beaches. On different beaches it is just prohibited. I would have loved to jump into the water with my swimming googles and look at the underwater wildlife. However we don’t have time so enjoying it from the beach must be enough for today.

After the three hours hike we head directly back to Santa Marta. We sit in the bus and everything seems to go to plan and we should arrive in Santa Marta before the shops close. At least that’s what we thought. We arrive in Santa Marta and it is a ghost town. We walk around and every shop is closed. On a Monday afternoon? Impossible! We couldn’t believe our eyes. There almost no people on the street. It feels weird to walk around. We hear that it is the day of San José and everyone is preparing for the festival the evening.

We still manage to find a few shops that are open. We get our supplies for the hike. David even found some hiking shoes to buy. We finish shopping as the sun is setting. Perfect timing we can still manage to catch the last bus back to Taganga! Usually the streets are full of people. Vendors shouting and trying to sell you their goods. Now it is quiet. Normally it is easy to find people to ask for the bus. This time it is more difficult. We walk into one street and there is three gentleman sitting there. We ask if the bus is passing here. It does! We chat a bit until one of the persons jumps up. Runs to the street looks at the busses and shouts when our bus is passing through. You got to love the helpfulness of the Latinos sometimes.

The next morning we get picked up to start the hike. Everyone gets ready in the travel agency. You can feel the excitement in the room. The last things are being packed and we’re off into the Jeep into the mountains. After an hour we leave the road and we drive another hour through dirt roads to a small city called Machete. From here on there is no cell phone service. We have lunch and start hiking afterwards. The sun is scorching hot. The hike so far is disappointing. It is wide dirt road and motorcycles pass us almost every five minutes. This is not how imagined the jungle hike. However we get to know our group and everyone seems high energetic and fun.

Even though the first day wasn’t too exciting we get the first glimpse of the Columbian mountainous jungle. Also there was a spot where you can jump of a waterfall. This is always welcome after sweating for half a day of course! You don’t have to tell me twice. We settle into the first camp and we first see how organized it is. We have a personal cook comfy beds with mosquito nets. For me this place is more luxurious than I expected with toilets and a cold shower. I expected to bath in the river for four days. The evenings are short as the light is turned off at 9 p.m. This is for a reason as we have to get up at 5 a.m. the next morning.

We wake up the next morning and have breakfast. It is hard to eat something at 5:20 a.m. but you need the calories for the hike. At 6 a.m. we leave the camp and start our day. This day we finally leave the bigger road and head more into the jungle. Now only mules pass us on our way. We’re now completely submerged in the jungle. We have to cross bridges and several rivers. Every step we take it becomes more green more wild.

We head into the territory of the indigenous people. It is really interesting to see how they live. Their ecological footprint must be smaller by several magnitudes than ours. The group feels like family now. Everything is shared. The meals are taken together, the snacks and hot chocolate and the experience is shared. We reach the second camp around 4 p.m. in the afternoon. The timing couldn’t be more perfect as it just starts to rain. When it starts raining in the rain forest it is not stopping for a while. We play cards, have dinner and have small spontaneous salsa dances. Omid loves to dance salsa which is why every evening ended up being spontaneous salsa dance classes. We laugh a lot together and the group feeling is growing. Since our group was called the gorrillas we always made gorilla noises. This strengthened the group feel as well. The tension was also growing too as everyone is awaiting the Lost City.

In the night you hear the heavy rain dropping onto the tin roof. It feels very cozy in the bed as the raindrops sing me to sleep until the alarm hits me in the face at 5 a.m. again. Time to finally see the Ciudad Perdida. This will take about another hour and about 1400 steps. You already start sweating profoundly at 6 a.m. because of the humidity and the hiking.

After we climb the steep slippery stairs that have been build almost two thousand years ago we see the first parts of the lost city. It is still early in the morning and the city has fog surrounding it, giving it a more mystical feel. The city is bigger than expected and was housing 2000 people before the Spaniards came. The Spaniards were spreading a lot of sexual diseases until the indigenous abandoned the city and fled into higher regions of the mountain. Another irony of history that the highest mountain, Pico Cristóbal Colón, is now named after Cristopher Columbus. For the indigenous people this is the center of the world. There are still indigenous people living there, but they don’t want to have contact with society. The trauma of the Spaniards must sit deeply with them.

The remains of the city are left to the circles on the ground. The city even had a sort of sewage system. As we go up it becomes more and visible how huge this city actually is. First we just saw a few round circles. Every September 20.000 people of the indigenous people that currently live here gather for a spiritual ceremony in the city. In this time it is closed for tourists.

The more we ascended the more we saw until the full scale becomes clear once we crossed the jungle again. Not all these terraces are seen. There is even more of them covered in the jungle. After hiking for two and half days we all feel relieved and happy to be in this beautiful place. We enjoy the view and reflect back on the journey. No cell phone reception and no internet. It was a surreal feeling spending so much time with mostly strangers and become so enclosed as a group in the matter of two days. Truly an amazing experience.

Now it it time to meet the spiritual leader of the indigenous people still living in that area. He is deciding on what is happening into their society. We also saw some coca plants for recreational purposes of course. The spiritual leader is the only one right now that is living in the Ciudad Perdida. You can buy a spiritual blessing from him. It is just a small wristband though. On the way back everyone is a little bit more silent. We head back to the camp to get our stuff and start the descent. There is always time to bath in the river though. We reach the third camp in the afternoon and settle in again. We have to hike back the next day.

One last time getting up at 5 a.m. We hike back and the humid jungle is giving way for the more dry landscape with the bigger roads. The sun is burning our skin while we descent. I listened to Pink Floyd – Wish you were here while hiking down. Everyone is exhausted as we try to reach Machete in our final push. Once we are there we share one more meal and one beer together as a group. I can tell you beer never tasted that good in my life!

Cheers, until next time!