Colombia from North to South by Bus: A Personal Travel Journey

Medellín

We ventured to the bustling city center and the density of it all was overwhelming to a gringa like me. Endless shops of cheap, fast fashion, salespeople insistently trying to reel you in, produce stands with fruits I'd never seen before, and moms with their children selling watered-down coffee from thermoses. The underlying tone was loud and clear: hustle.

We spent the day walking, tasting, and observing the somehow seamless choreography of this hectic place. We ate juicy, sour mamoncillos, bright and starchy chontaduros, and greasy arepas de choclo with cheese. All new flavors that my salivary glands immediately agreed with. I learned that the coffee in Colombia was not the fairtrade aromatic roast Westerners get at their local hipster cafes. Instead, they drink tinto, soluble Nestlé coffee powder served in plastic cups while exporting the good stuff abroad.

In Envigado or El Poblado, the pace is slightly softer and the locals slightly wealthier. These areas are where tourists go for the nicer attractions, cleaner streets, and diversity in food and choices. It’s also where you might be able to find a cup of the good stuff.

After a few months in Medellín, we started to tour this diverse and lively country, from North to South, mostly by bus. I got to see so many beautiful places and experience all the colors of Colombia over the next years, and these are a few of the places that stood out for me:

Jericó

We left the overwhelming chaos of the city and drove three hours past little towns, towering mountains, and endless stretches of tropical foliage. Arriving in a small colonial town with bright-colored buildings and cobbled streets was a gorgeously striking contrast to the lush green density of the Andes. 

We slept in one of the rooms at the Bomarzo cultural center, and adored the vibe of this artsy nook amidst it all. 

To me, Jericó has the sweet rhythm of pasillo music: nostalgic, gentle, and colorful. 

After our short visit in Jericó, we drove back to Medallo—as the locals call it—and traded our rental car for a one-way ticket to the sea.

Taganga

Off the freezing bus and into the sun-kissed beach town on the Caribbean Sea. Fried fish and plantains served along perfumed coconut rice, sandy roads, and trash littering the grounds. From our balcony, we watched cats and goats casually passing by, and plastic trash being led by the strong winds. 

We spent most days marinating in the warm waters of the Caribbean Sea and a couple of days picking up heaps of garbage on the sandy shorelines. As they watched us going around with our large black trash bag, some locals got inspired and brought us handfuls of plastic litter to dispose of, with warm smiles of approval.

Cali

If cities were people, Cali would be the bright-smiled charmer of Colombia. Sly yet familial, outgoing and always ready to have a good time. Despite my unfortunate introduction to the Salsa Capital, I fell in love with this city and kept going back for more.

From the bus station, we took a taxi to our rental. Little did we know: it didn't exist. But that's another story you could read here. 

First evening in town and we fall upon a crowd dancing Salsa, taking up a whole section of the pedestrian path. It wasn’t a festive holiday or anything, just a regular day in Cali. We rented a place in Peñon for the month, enjoying the diversity in food, sitting in quiet little squares, and aimlessly walking around the third-largest city in Colombia.

The streets brim with a vivacious rhythm and boisterous flair in Cali, unlike anywhere else in the country—in my opinion.

After just over a month in Cali, we felt the need to slow down, reconnect with nature, and get lost in a more grounded part of the country. Next stop: the Eje Cafetero.