The City of Eternal Spring

Medellín, lovingly known as the “City of Eternal Spring,” is the not just known for its beautiful skyline, green downtown, and impeccably clean streets. It was, for many years, the epicenter of the Colombian drug war—when several cartels, including the most powerful Medellín Cartel, fought each other ruthlessly for control over the country’s drug trade. But as I mentioned in my previous article, that’s changed.

I ended up down here almost by accident—I booked these flights only a few days ago! It turns out that an old acquaintance of mine, Lachlan, from Cranbrook, is spending the summer down here, and he graciously invited me down here after I expressed my interest in coming. Though the flights weren’t cheap, I’d watched the prices like a hawk, and as soon as they dipped, I was booked for the four-day Fourth of July weekend, my fourth in a row out of the country. Basically, I couldn’t pass up the four-day weekend opportunity to explore a place that seemed as off-limits, as mysterious as Colombia.

After a pretty long travel day, including a fun overnight layover in Panama City, where I wandered around and headed to a rooftop salsa bar in the historic quarter, I finally landed in Medellín’s José Maria Cordova international airport. The airport is not in Medellín, and far from it, actually. Though the drive is long, I soon fell in love with it. Quickly after getting onto the highway, you enter a tunnel. An 8.3 km, 5.2 mi long tunnel. And to be honest, entering this tunnel was the first tell that Colombia wasn’t what others had portrayed it to be. Only a country genuinely invested in itself, in its future, its infrastructure, its people would construct a tunnel like this. It’s nice, it’s got a pretty hefty toll (CO$23,800 = US$6) and it’s well lit, well controlled, and has signal the entire way through. And what you’ll notice is that nobody’s speeding. In fact, the speed limit is pretty slow, and people follow the speed limit there. Again, Colombia has this reputation of being this lawless Wild West, where you can get away with anything. But in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Here, it’s illegal to drive a motorcycle without a helmet, and speed limits are quite enforced. And if you’re trying to avoid the toll to get into the tunnel, forget it.

On the other side of the tunnel was my first view of Medellín. And I was frankly amazed. Those brick towers jut straight out of the basin, as more square, still red houses climb up the mountain sides in every direction. Honestly, it’s one of the most beautiful cityscapes I’ve ever seen, and certainly one of the most unique. There’s just something about the greenery filling in almost 20% of the city with the red brick that makes the city stand out so strongly in my memory.

Lachlan likes to stay in a very local area of Medellín, Laureles, which is also known for its incredible walkability and for somehow being even more green than the rest of the city. Walking around Laureles is a total pleasure. I mean, there’s a feeling of freshness that rejuvenates you. From the second we left his place to grab some lunch, I just got this feeling of overwhelming calm and comfort from this place everyone was scared of. This sense that all those on the street are people just enjoying their afternoon, just like me. Walking with their friends to lunch or to go shopping a little bit, just like any other local in any other local area of town anywhere else in the world. People trying to go about their days, and not people trying to mug me then kidnap me. And the streets were so impeccably clean for a city of this size. No trash was to be found anywhere, and all your focus is diverted to the trees, bushes, and bamboo all around.

A Park in Laureles: You feel like you're in the jungle!

We walked around Laureles, grabbing lunch. I got a chicken breast on a sizzling plate, but the real attraction was the limonada de coco—coconut (not cocaine…) lemonade. It was freshly squeezed lemonade, sweetened with sugar cane, and mixed with coconut cream. Though I don’t like coconut, the taste of the lemonade cut what I usually don’t like about it, while leaving enough to still realize you’re eating coconut. It was absolutely not what I was expecting, though I really enjoyed it, and continued to order them through my little trip.

We then headed up into the mountains to hit up Comuna 13, a neighborhood that was, even a decade ago, a no-go zone due to its uncontrolled violence. A public project transformed this once-crime-riddled neighborhood into a hotspot of art, music, shopping, and life. A place people go to celebrate life, rather than to risk losing it. The taxi dropped us off at the base, and as I looked up at the stalls crawling their way up the mountain, a huge smile made its way onto my face. That smile you get when you see other people smiling, other people enjoying themselves, other people just loving life.

With that, we entered.

Our way up, we didn’t buy much. We just scoped out what there was, enjoying the path, admiring the art, and seeing what we may be interested in buying. As we snaked our way up the winding path into the mountains, we took an opportunity to look in every direction. Up, there were shanty houses whose residents may not be rich, though their lives are constantly enriched by the presence of this vibrant neighborhood. Looking ahead, there may be breakdancers, singers, magicians, or mobile popsicle stands. And when you have to go up a flight or two of stairs, you get your choice of stairs or escalator. To your left and right, stalls selling everything from soccer jerseys to magnets or beautiful phosphorescent pieces of art. A food stand may be cooking some barbecue or an arepa, and beverage stands are selling the local selection of beers, and even this mango juice beer mix we had. They loaded it up with the tajín—a Latin American pepper-salt powder whose taste I don’t really care for—and thus, I felt it was a little spoiled by that, but once most of the tajín was gone, I began to enjoy it more. Looking out in the other direction, you get that wonderful view of the city again, just like from the highway. But this time, you’re in it. Looking across, there could be someone miles away looking back at you from a neighborhood that may still be dangerous.

But most impressive was the street art. The street art is what gives this area life. Without it, it would be, well, not colorless, but it wouldn’t stand out from any barrio in Medellín. But with the constant flow of one mural into the other, sidewalk art, art stalls, and artists doing caricatures, it’s easy to see why this neighborhood gets its charm.

But again, only a city really invested in its people, only a people really invested in their community, only a community so scarred by its past could turn what it was into what it is. On our way down, we bought some souvenirs, shirts, and a jersey to watch the game Saturday against Panama.

We called Medellín’s rather unique method of transport to get downtown from Comuna 13—Uber Moto! Here, for about a quarter the price of an Uber, you can call a motorcycle to come pick you up, weave through lanes, and get you to where you need to be much faster than a car ever could. And again, since it’s mandatory to wear a helmet on your motorbike in Medellín, they’ll come with a helmet for you too. Though this was my first time on a proper motorcycle, I wasn’t all that scared, as I had faith that my professional driver would get me there safely.

And safely he did, while delivering some of the best views of the city yet. Crossing over the Medellín river, all the city is above you. All the towers and buildings are within eyeshot, all that eye-catching red color.

We made it to Poblado, one of the major downtown areas of the city, and the one that is the most tourist-friendly. Now, when I got there, yes. I was offered cocaine nearly instantly. And prostitutes were trying to get my attention within minutes. But this doesn’t represent the real Colombia.

And now may be a good time to introduce the elephant in the room: cocaine. I’ll get into Pablo Escobar later, as my education about him warrants more space than I can give it here, but for now, I’ll address the current situation of the Colombian cartels. (As someone who did not partake in the “activities” Colombia is famous for).

The cartels still operate. That is a truth. Though the way in which they operate has changed significantly since three decades ago. While previously, cartels maintained power through violence, nowadays, the idea of power is a much more diluted concept. Cartels operate on a “agreement” with the government, and should any member violate that agreement, more powerful cartel members will, well, take care of them. This agreement is simple: you can still sell cocaine, and we’ll turn a blind eye to it. In fact, we’ll make it legal to carry one gram of cocaine on your person in public. But (and this is a big but) don’t kill anybody. And if you dare touch a tourist, if you dare hurt a tourist, that’s the end. Colombia has done so much work to clear its name, to grow its tourism economy, that it cannot afford to have all its hard work taken away by one rogue accident.

So, though I won’t endorse buying street drugs, I can imagine that if there’s one place in the world where you are sure to get pure, real, safe cocaine, it’s on the streets of Medellín. Take that how you will, but I let it go personally.

And again, here, it’s safer to be a tourist than a local, in fact. Odd, isn’t it. But the fact that this unspoken agreement revolves around you, the tourist, gives you just that little bit of immunity we so often feel that we do have, even when we don’t.

Now, I’m going to start sounding like a broken record, so allow me to speed through a description of Poblado… Colorful bars, jungle, bamboo, red buildings, you get the vibe. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves. Meanwhile, though I am speeding through these descriptions for the sake of monotony, as I was walking around, there in person, I was in awe. Repeating over and over “I cannot believe this is what Medellín is like” “This place is just so beautiful” “I wish I could be here for months.” We stayed out to watch Poblado fill up with the local night activity before heading back to the Air BnB for a nice night’s sleep.

My first day in Medellín was truly special. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so comfortable, so welcome, so calm in a city that I’d never been to, in a country I’d never been to, and in fact, been warned against visiting. The clash of expectations versus reality bounced around in my head all day long, often leading me to repeat those same few sentences over and over again, expressing my awe, shock, and wonder over just how beautiful, just how familiar this city felt.