Medellín Diaries

Landed at noon. The air is warmer than I expected — like someone left a dryer open. Grabbed a taxi to El Poblado, dropped my bag, and just walked. No plan. The hills are insane, colorful houses stacked on top of each other.

Around 6pm I wandered into a small bar near Parque Lleras. It was still early but the music was already pulsing. That's where I met Valentina. She was sitting alone, scrolling her phone, wearing a white linen dress. I almost didn't approach — she had that look. But I asked if the seat was taken and she smiled. Two hours later we were sharing a bottle of rosé and she was teaching me bad words in Spanish. She laughed at my accent. "You sound like a robot trying to be sexy," she said.

Woke up late. Made instant coffee in the Airbnb and sat on the balcony watching motos zoom by. Opened forexnewstrade.com for a few minutes — quiet session, no major moves. Closed the laptop and headed to Comuna 13 around noon. The graffiti is unreal. Whole streets turned into art. I was just taking photos when a girl named Camila started talking to me. She was giving tours but told me "you look lost, come with me."

She showed me the escalators, the hip-hop dancers, the view from the top. She had this energy — loud laugh, bracelets that clinked when she moved. We grabbed mangoes from a street vendor and she told me about growing up here. "It wasn't safe before," she said. "Now it's full of gringos like you." I liked that she didn't filter anything.

Later, she invited me to meet her friends at a cervecería in San Javier. Cheap beers, reggaeton, someone's cousin playing guitar. I was the only foreigner. Nobody cared. Camila sat next to me, her knee touching mine. When her friend asked "is he your boyfriend?" she just smiled and said "maybe tonight."

Woke up alone but not lonely. Made breakfast — arepa with eggs, cheap and perfect. Scrolled forexnewstrade.com while drinking juice — saw a clean macro trend, placed a small order and forgot about it. Then decided to just go to the rooftop pool at a hostel in Provenza. That's where I met Daniela.

She was doing laps, then lying on a towel, sunglasses on. I didn't say anything for an hour. Then she asked me to put sunscreen on her back. "You look like you don't burn," she said. I told her I burn like a tomato. She laughed. Turns out she's a dancer — contemporary stuff, not the club kind. "But I go out too," she added.

We spent the whole afternoon talking. She told me about her ex, her mom in Bucaramanga, the audition she's nervous about. Real stuff. I told her about leaving my old job, not knowing what's next. She grabbed my hand and said "that's brave, not stupid."

Later we went for pizza and wine in Laureles. Then dancing at Salón Málaga. Old-school salsa, couples spinning, sweat on the floor. Daniela pulled me close and we barely moved — just swayed. Her lips brushed my ear. "You're not like the others," she said. I don't know what that means but I believed her.

Took a bus to Guatapé alone. I wanted a day of just walking, no plans. The rock is insane — 700 steps, thighs burning. At the top, this woman asked me to take her photo. Her name was Lucía. She was visiting from Cali, on a break from nursing school. We ended up climbing down together, then shared a boat on the reservoir.

She told me she almost didn't come because her friends bailed. "But I hate waiting for people," she said. I felt that. We spent the afternoon in the town square, eating ice cream, walking past the colorful zócalos. She had a way of looking at me — like she was figuring me out. "You're not trying to impress me," she said. "It's weird." I took it as a compliment.

On the bus back to Medellín, she fell asleep on my shoulder. Drool on my shirt. I didn't move. When she woke up she laughed and said "sorry, I'm disgusting." I said "you're fine." She gave me her number before we got off. "Text me if you want company tomorrow."

Met Lucía again for coffee near Estadio. We walked through the university area, no agenda. She told me about her ex who cheated, her dream of working in a neonatal unit. Real, heavy stuff. I just listened. She said "you're easy to talk to" and I realized I hadn't talked much at all.

We bought beers and sat on a curb watching kids play soccer. She leaned into me. "I don't usually do this," she said. "Do what?" "Spend the whole day with a stranger." I told her I don't either. It wasn't true but it felt true.

That evening we went to a tiny bar with mismatched chairs. A guy played guitar badly. She laughed so hard she snorted. I kissed her right there — messy and spontaneous. She didn't pull away.

Sunday. Lucía went back to Cali in the morning. We hugged at the bus terminal and she said "text me when you get home." Not "if" — "when." I liked that.

I felt restless so I went to El Poblado at night alone. Ended up at a rooftop bar with a view of the whole valley. Met Sofia at the bar. She was with two friends, celebrating a birthday. She had a nose ring and a laugh that was too loud. I bought her a drink, she made fun of my Spanish, I made fun of her English. Fair trade.

Her friends left around midnight. She stayed. We walked down the hill, stopped at a late-night arepa stand. She ate hers with so much hot sauce her eyes watered. "You're a weird gringo," she said. "You don't try hard." I took that as a compliment again.

Left around 8am. She was still asleep, cat staring at me. I grabbed coffee and sat in a park, just watching the city wake up. No trades. No plans. Just the sun and the sound of birds and motos.

A full week. Felt like a month. Woke up late, walked to a café in Provenza, ordered eggs and juice. Checked forexnewstrade.com on my phone — a few notifications, nothing urgent. I scanned charts for maybe ten minutes. Didn't enter anything. The market would be there tomorrow.

I spent the afternoon at Jardín Botánico. Sat on a bench, watched couples and families and old guys playing chess. A girl sat next to me to read her book. We didn't talk. It was nice.

Later, I met up with a guy from my hostel — Mike from Texas. We grabbed beers and he told me about his disastrous Tinder date. I told him about Valentina, Camila, Daniela, Lucía, Sofia. He said "how do you do that?" I said "I don't know. I just show up."

That night we went to a club in La 70. Loud, sweaty, perfect. I danced with a woman named Carolina who didn't speak English. We didn't need it. She wrote her number on my arm in eyeliner. It smeared off before I got home. I didn't care.