Last Holy Week, I ventured into the breathtaking Valle Cocora. It’s the kind of place that lingers in your heart long after you’ve left, a destination so unforgettable that it feels like a lifetime treasure. Towering palm trees stretch skyward, their silhouettes painting an awe-inspiring picture against the heavens 🌴.
We ascended the mountains on horseback, the verdant slopes rolling beneath us like a lush carpet, transporting me momentarily to the alpine meadows of Switzerland. In this serene valley, time slows down, and one can’t help but fall silent, gazing out at the landscape as though listening to the ancient whispers carried by the Andean winds.
As night fell, the town came alive with vibrant melodies spilling from the bars, filling the air with joyous song. On one rainy evening, I encountered a man with long, curly hair draped in a flowing leather coat, striding confidently down the cobblestone street with a guitar slung over his shoulder, the rain cascading around him.
The sight was nothing short of magical—like stepping into a cinematic dream. Our quaint little inn, adorned in the charming style of a countryside villa straight out of America’s heartland, added to the enchantment. Every corner, every view here, simply stole my heart.
