Since I arrived in Bogotá, countless locals and travelers have been raving about Medellín, describing it as an extraordinary destination. Their glowing reviews sparked my curiosity 💭 and fueled my excitement 😊 to discover just how incredible this city might be.
To make the most of my journey, I enrolled in a Spanish class in Medellín, seizing the opportunity to immerse myself in the language 📖. The school was conveniently located in Poblado, the trendy and affluent neighborhood everyone seems to recommend. I secured a cozy short-term rental nearby, eagerly anticipating the start of what felt like a brand-new chapter in my life.
Poblado is undeniably safe, making it the go-to hub for tourists who’ve done their research. However, the area feels overwhelmingly tailored to visitors, lacking any genuine glimpse into local life. After a while, the monotony of its tourist-centric atmosphere begins to wear thin 🙄. To top it off, the neighborhood is notoriously noisy at night—so much so that even opting for a quiet top-floor apartment at the end of the building didn’t offer much relief.
On the whole, Medellín struck me as a surprisingly chaotic city, with car horns blaring incessantly—a cacophony that quickly becomes maddening. In the historic district, the sheer abundance of shops overshadows the scarcity of cultural attractions like museums 🥹. Meanwhile, Comuna 13, once touted as a must-visit spot, left me underwhelmed.
It’s overrun by “internet-famous” cafes and boutiques, turning what should be an authentic experience into a predictable tourist trap. Even booking a guided tour failed to salvage the visit; the overwhelming crowds and deafening street speakers only added to the disappointment.
The culinary scene? Disastrous. Beyond the reliable yet uninspired Western staples, attempting to explore local cuisine or other cuisines felt like stepping into a minefield of bad choices [Laughing and Crying]. Every dining experience ended in dissatisfaction, yet I still had to shell out for mandatory service fees—a frustrating double whammy.
Transportation proved equally challenging. Taking the metro involves navigating vast distances on foot, while the bus system here leaves much to be desired. Taxis emerged as the sole practical option, though moving to Laureles later only compounded these frustrations.
As for the climate, it was scorching 🔥. During my three-week stay in early September, temperatures soared higher each day. Where was the famed “eternal spring”? Instead, summer seemed to take permanent residence, leaving me sweltering and longing for cooler climes.
Medellín may carry the title of the City of Flowers, but flower vendors are curiously scarce on the streets. Those few stalls that do exist offer uninspired arrangements, pale comparisons to the vibrant bouquets found in Kunming.
After enduring three weeks, I finally packed up my belongings and bid adieu 👋 to Medellín.
While the city has undoubtedly made strides to position itself as a haven for digital nomads, complete with coworking spaces galore, it ultimately fell short of my expectations. As a travel destination, it offers fleeting charm worth exploring, but for long-term living? Medellín simply wasn’t the right fit for me.
