About This and That
SANTA MARTA:
Where I Finally Exhaled
Santa Marta is a beautiful Caribbean city where the mountains meet the sea.
It offers stunning beaches, tropical landscapes, and unforgettable sunsets.
It is the gateway to Tayrona National Park and the Sierra Nevada.
Its historic center combines colonial charm with a relaxed coastal atmosphere.
Santa Marta is ideal for nature, adventure, culture, and authentic Caribbean experiences.
WHO IS WRITING THESE NOTES?
BOGOTA:
Too Much, All at Once
CARTAGENA:
A City That's More Alive Than Ever
The first time you land in Bogotá, the city knocks you off your feet, all at once, all of it. Bright colors and colonial houses of impossible beauty sit right next to grim low-rise buildings; grand churches and real street art next to ugly tags scrawled across them. Actually, there's a lot of beautiful graffiti here too, real art in its own right. Jewelry shops, kind strangers who suddenly offer you advice, and people you'd rather not make eye contact with.
Colonial walls, the sea, and a completely different side of life on the Caribbean coast.
Old Town at Sunset
An atmospheric glimpse of Cartagena in the evening — the light, the colors, the narrow streets of Getsemaní, and that unmistakable feeling of being on vacation that never leaves you.
VILLA DE LEYVA:
A Waterfront and a City in Two Days
Coming soon...
I was only passing through Barranquilla, just two days, but the city still managed to surprise me. A huge waterfront runs along the wide Magdalena River, full of force and waves, nothing like a calm, quiet river, more like something alive and unruly. It's lovely to walk here both day and night, coffee in hand and a slice of Napoleon cake (by now I've tried what feels like a dozen versions of this cake across Colombia, all delicious, though none quite like the one back home).
BARRANQUILLA:
Land of adventure, big-bottomed ants,and unforgettable landscapes.
BUCARAMANGA:
Colonial Calm, Worth the Detour
Stuck in Bogotá, I suddenly felt like getting away for a few days. Colombia is full of beautiful, quiet colonial towns, and I chose Villa de Leyva. It gives you every chance to enjoy history, mountains, and countryside views, and to rest both body and soul.
Villa de Leyva isn't far from Bogotá at all, just 3.5 to 4 hours by car or by a comfortable bus. Direct buses run reliably from the main bus terminal or from others, such as Terminal del Norte.
Life & Little Things
People
Meeting Colombians, you quickly realize the difference in mentality runs deep. I grew up in another country, in Russia, in Moscow itself, where everything gets decided fast, surrounded by people used to making quick decisions, and I moved at that same pace every day. Smiles only when there was a reason. Greetings only for people you actually knew: neighbors, acquaintances, someone you'd just been introduced to.
Dogs
I'll admit it honestly: how someone treats animals has always mattered to me when I size people up. If I saw cruelty, I immediately knew I didn't want anything to do with that person, it says something about how they treat those weaker than themselves.
And this is exactly where Colombia surprised me. For the first time, in Bogotá, I ran into a love for dogs so widespread that I'd never seen it concentrated like this before, only in individual cases here and there. Sure, among the people I know back home, plenty adore their pets, but here it's everywhere, without exception.
You rarely hear a dog bark here, big or small, it doesn't matter: they look at you with curiosity and a genuine wish to connect, alert and aware. And that's because they live in an atmosphere where they're treated like a son or a daughter, where people smile at them and stop to say hello, where once a big dog leaned right up against my legs just so I'd scratch its back, and wagged its tail in return.
Pets are loved here, and taken everywhere. Every one of them has a favorite ball or toy, its own little outfit, its own clothes, one dog I know even has her own collar with flowers on it. I find myself admiring this every single day, this whole relationship, this connection, and I'm already thinking about adding a small, furry member to my own family. I have enough love to go around.
Coming to Colombia, you realize: here, you need to talk longer before taking any real step. You need to remind people, double-check, remind them again. Slowly you get used to the emotion in people's voices around you, and at the same time, complete strangers on the street suddenly greet you and smile, genuinely and warmly. There's also one particular Colombian habit that caught me completely off guard at first.
Even just walking into a shop and stumbling through broken Spanish, you might hear directed at you: mi amor, mi corazón, mi reina (my love, my heart, my queen). Or, as I learned later, mi vida (my life), mi cielo (my sky), mamita or papito, and it's rarely romantic, more of an everyday, warm way that shopkeepers, taxi drivers, cashiers, and others address you.
At first you think you misheard. Then you feel a little thrown off. And then you feel warmth spreading through you, and in the older woman who just called you mi amor, you suddenly see something familiar and tender, almost grandmotherly. You melt into all that warmth and all those smiles around you, and feel, just for a moment, a little important, a little valued.
Panaderías
In Colombia, especially in Bogotá, you run into bakeries, panaderías, on every corner. Some are packed from early morning, others much quieter, but sooner or later you find your own panadería, the one with the best bread, desserts, and pastries.
My favorite one is full of people from early morning, smells of warm bread, and has a genuinely pleasant atmosphere. It's remarkable how little it takes to feel happy: pick up hot, fresh croissants early in the morning, come home, brew good coffee, and fill the croissants with cream cheese, thin slices of cucumber, and lightly smoked salmon. Or just eat a warm roll with an omelet.
It feels so good, so warm, almost like being back in childhood.
