The van appeared at seven am sharp, screaming tourist. Decals covered the exterior extolling tours in fluent English with a link to the tour operator’s website. The email had asked me to be prompt and I’m glad I was already standing outside the apartment building when they arrived. 

A door slid open and Vero introduced herself as my guide; Jaime as the driver. They greeted me in Spanish and I made do with Spanish pleasantries before Vero asked if I spoke English. I said yes and that my Spanish was limited. She asked where I learned my Spanish and I said online (promising myself I’d get back to my courses). Her eyes grew wide and said she had studied English for a while but that her English was still not the best. I told her it was excellent. She smiled and turned to face forward and we were off. 

It was to be a 2,5 to 3 hour trip to Jardín and she told me to settle in. I asked her how long she had been a guide and she told me three years. I asked if this is something she always wanted to do and she paused. She said she loved traveling and that when she discovered this profession she fell in love with it.

I asked her what she did in her free time and she said she loves the mountains and hiking. This trip to Jardín is one of her favorites (I’d learn it was Jaime’s favorite as well) to be outside in the mountains visiting the coffee farms. Her family was from Hardin and she had two cousins who still lived there. The rest of her family had come to Medellin. Her father had retired from a job driving trucks; her mother was a housewife. She lived at home with them and an older sister, who was studying international trade. 

At one point we paused for a break and she asked if she could sit next to me. I said of course. It was easier than turning around in the front seat she explained. Claro. 

As we drove south out of the city she pointed out the neighborhoods and showed me a map of the departments. When we were out of Medellín she noted where it ended. The road narrowed and as we came upon a four lane highway I figured we were well on our way. And then we stopped. 

A long line of traffic was at a standstill. People stood by their cars; walked their dogs. I took a nap. When I woke up Jaime told us that a motorcyclist had had an accident and had died up ahead. He discovered the news on Waze. Vero apologized for the delay. I told her it was no fault of hers and that i felt sorry for the cyclist. That every part of the journey was part of the experience.

Jaimie explained that there were only two roads that lead to the south; the other road was blocked by a landslide.

Jaimie explained that there were only two roads that lead to the south; the other road was blocked by a landslide. 

We waited. For a moment it seemed as if we were about to move but it was a false alarm. Vero told me about a night hike she had recently done in the mountains near Medellín. She showed me a picture of her next to a cactus-like plant, explaining how they were important to the ecosystem and how they trapped water. She showed me a picture of her husky, Vero, bedecked in spectacles. Her dog was adorable. 

Next to us two dogs sat in the backseat of a car along with one of their owners. I smiled at the fact that he’d prefer to sit in the back with his dogs rather than with his friend in the front. 

The cars in front of us began to move and Vero applauded. We inched our way along. The road was narrowed by construction and we lumbered along the uneven pavement and gravel. Vero explained that this construction had been going on for over five years. It was supposed to have been completed already.

Jardín is one of the top attractions in Colombia, she explained. The road is designed to cut the amount of time to get there from Medellín down to 1h 45m, almost in half. But due to corruption it’s still a long way from being completed. 

We followed the line of cars at a slow pace until we reached the end of the construction and then back onto a highway before we came to a road block that directed us to local roads. But the road ahead was clear and we once again were driving freely.

As we passed through a small town Vero asked if I wanted to use the restroom. I could have used a break and said yes. Jaime said there was a better spot 15 min minutes ahead and stopped outside of town at an attractive coffee shop and restaurant complex. A fruit seller had set up at the intersection where we pulled off. 

I asked Jaime and Vero if they wanted any pastries or drinks and I ordered us cakes and coffees. Vero said she usually waits until we reach the farm before having a coffee but she needed one after our delays. Jaime told me coffee is life. He drinks it three times a day. 

I asked him how long he had been driving. Twenty years he said; but his job with the travel agency had been only in the past few years. He likes driving for the agency much better for the interaction he has with the guests. Vero told me that the coffee was good, that the brand was a good one. Jaime said that he usually stops there. I said it was a much nicer spot than any we had passed in the last town.

As we drove on Vero told me that Jardín is a famous spot for bird watchers and that there is a red bird endemic to the area. She told me many tourists come mainly to see that bird and that if we were lucky we would see it. She said that there are also many hummingbirds one can see in the farms and told me of her love of birds. 

Once she had visited Jardín and a flock of 40 birds had surrounded her. It was a fantastic experience that she couldn’t explain. I said she must have summoned her inner Disney princess. 

She stopped short and told me she had some important information she had forgotten to share. We were going to ride horses to the finca and back. So twice. I said ok, misinterpreting her as the original description of the tour had said we would be riding to a waterfall; I thought we’d be riding to the farm and to the waterfall; I would be wrong.

The road was winding, in and out of valleys and around mountains. Almost entirely it was covered in a canopy of trees. It was a lovely road and a beautiful drive into the countryside.

A town emerged as we rounded a bend and Vero exclaimed it was Jardín. We had just about arrived; it had taken us five hours. Almost as soon as she said that Jaime took a left onto a smaller road that climbed into the mountains.

We drove until a dirt mount blocked the road. It was here we were to mount our horses. Vero paused to ask if I’d ever ridden a horse before. Claro. She said it was very important I know the name of my horse and introduced me to Leonardo. Jaime (another Jamie) helped me mount and soon we were riding up the mountainside.

Motorcycles zipped past us as we rode but Leo was unperturbed. He loped along the road, knowing where to go. At one point he stopped for a snack and I let him before Jaime ushered us on. Energized by his snack, he started trotting and we trotted most of the way up to the farm. 

Imelda welcomed us and asked if we wanted juice or coffee. I asked for both. The day had become clear, blue skies opened up above us and I was hot and parched from the ride. She disappeared into the back of the house and brought out two glasses of a cool red drink. She then lead us into the cafe and explained the proper way to prepare coffee in a French press; the proper ratio (100ml of water to 8-9 grams of coffee); the proper time to steep (30 seconds where the water just covers the grounds and then 3 minutes with the rest of the water for a proper infusion. She stirred the water with a wooden spoon and Vero explained it was important not to use metal as coffee is like a sponge, picking up the flavors around it.

She poured five cups and served one each to Vero and i before taking two cups outside to another set of visitors. The coffee was delicious, naturally sweet and slightly nutty without a hint of bitterness.

Vero explained that most of the best coffee in Colombia is exported. The coffee you get on the street is subpar. She said you had to go to a fancy shop or the farms to get the good coffee.

I asked Imelda how long they had had the farm. She said they started small after she had married over thirty years ago. They now had 6000 plants on 3 hectares of land. Each plant produces about a pound of coffee a year. 

Jaime appeared and took a cup with sugar and then lead us outside to tour the farm. Imelda offered a local soap with anti mosquito properties and Vero and I lathered up. 

Jaime met us by the edge of the house with three wooden baskets. A mother and daughter from Hardín joined us and Jaime let us down into the fields, explaining how they grew plants alongside the coffee for flavor and for food. Vero reminded me that coffee was like a sponge and by planting plantains or lulo next to the coffee they could infuse those flavors into the beans. 

Plants were also grown as natural deterrents to pests. The farm was completely organic; no pesticides were used.

Three types of coffee were grown on the farm and Jaime pointed out each of the plants. Midway through the tour he handed me a basket and told me to pick the red berries as those were ripe. They were few in number compared to the number of berries on the vine and I assumed we were early for the harvest. The mother and daughter declined. 

As we walked around the property filling our baskets Jaime explained that a full basket would bring 60,000 pesos at market and I felt like I was working for my tour. At the edge of the property he led us to his apiary. The bees were important pollinators for the plants plus they produced honey for the farm.

Back at the house Jamie had us break open a berry. Inside there were one or two beans and he had us suck on them. They were sweet and Vero said they were called honey. He then led us to the back of the house where he showed us his machine for separating the honey from the skins. 

With the skins they made a local wine. The honey would drop into a trough and the inferior beans would stay in a rack to be collected and sold internationally. The inferior coffee would be sold to train people on what good coffee and bad coffee tastes like. 

The honey would be fermented and collected and then dried, and Jamie brought us to where the coffee was laid out to dry. In drier months it would be uncovered but during the rainy season a plastic tarp covered the drying area.

He then led us back into the cafe and showed us the finished product and the various stages of drying and roasting. Vero remembered that Jaime the driver had wanted her to buy him some coffee but had forgotten how much. She called him to ask and Jamie picked up the phone to sell Jaime more. 

I waited outside in a covered patio overlooking the valley. It was cool in the shade; the temperature dropping significantly out of the sun. I had asked Imelda If you could stay at the farm and she said yes; they had multiple options including a treehouse and a cabin that could sleep a family. I thought about how amazing it would be to wake up in the morning and see the birds in the trees. By the time we arrived it was too late in the day for bird watching.

Jaime told us that to take the horses back to the van would take too long and arranged for us to meet the van in town. We’d take a Willy’s Jeep; the local transportation to get around.

The Jeep had been converted with two rows of benches in the back under a covered tarp, similar to a Thai songthaew. We clambered aboard and made our dusty way into town. I was happy to be able to see the other side of the valley and take the local transport. 

In town we met Jaime and Vero asked if I wanted to do the town tour or have lunch. I asked if she was hungry. A little she said and so I said let’s have lunch. 

We found a table at the restaurant Zodiaco just off the main square. We each ordered the trout lunch with mazamorra, a local milk drink with corn kernels. Jaime was immediately on his phone checking fútbol scores and highlights. He’s obsessed, Vero told me. I asked him his favorite teams. In Columbia, Nacional, he told me. In England, Liverpool. He was also an avid cyclist. En route to Jardín, Vero had explained that professional cyclists from around the world come to Colombia to train. Many Tour de France cyclists come because of the mountains and altitude and we had seen many cyclists making their way up and down the mountain roads. 

Lunch was one of the best I had had on a tour. The trout was fried and fresh, the perfect blend of crisp and tender and I was glad to be sampling a local drink. 

After dinner we drove to the waterfall, just outside of town. It was pretty but not quite what I had pictured from the description of the tour:

"Your first stop in Jardin is an early morning horseback ride through the towering and majestic Andes mountains to a sublime waterfall. You can get off your horse and go for a dip or just unwind and be mesmerized by the nature and the blissful sound of the waterfall cascading down the mountain.“

I asked if they usually rode horses here. No, Vero said. You walk. I asked if she ever went in. No, she said. Too cold. Inwardly I smiled.

Other cars drove by and stopped for photos. It really was a beautiful waterfall if not as secluded as I had pictured in my mind.

As we drove back towards town Vero pointed out other paths and walks I could take when I decided to come back. She said there were many waterfalls one could visit, but it would take all day.

She had Jaime drop us off on the upper edge of town and we walked the pretty streets back towards the square. She pointed out the red flowers many hung outside their homes and one home in particular that opened its windows so people could admire the flowers within. 

We passed a school and Vero told me it’s where her mother went to school. She took a picture to send to her. She’ll probably cry seeing it, she said. 

In the square we went to visit the church. It was crowded with people and it looked like a sermon had recently ended. People lined up to take pictures with the priest, who happily stood as the line of people waited patiently for their turn.

Back outside people sat at cafes that filled the square. On a holiday the tables would be full, Vero told me, and pointed out a second floor cafe at the (direction) corner of the square as having the best coffee. For the next time you are here, she said. 

Jamie met us near the restaurant and we boarded the van for the ride home. Almost as soon as we left town the skies opened up. Sheets of rain bathed the car and the road ahead. The day grew darker with the clouds and darker still once the sun set. The rain let off but lightning flashed the clouds as we drove home, throwing the mountains in sharp silhouette against the sky as we made our way on the winding roads back towards reality. 🇨🇴