I started my trip with a guided cycle ride around Medellin. A generation ago, it was one of the world’s most dangerous cities, with over 6,000 killings recorded in 1991.
During the 80s and 90s much of the city was controlled by infamous drug baron Pablo Escobar, and even after his death in 1991, crime remained rampant.
These days the only obstacles to my cycling are wandering pedestrians and fruit and vegetable merchants who seem happy to plonk their stalls right in the middle of bike lanes. Another sign that Medellin is back on the international stage is that it’s hosting the second edition of Tour Colombia with top cyclists from all over the world competing in its six day event.
Our own Chris Froome is here with Team Sky and the vertiginous climbs from downtown at 1,500 metres to over 2,500 metres up the sides of the Medellin valley are an ideal rehearsal for the Tour de France. I talk to some of the British competitors who tell me that the rides here are among the most challenging in the world and they have nothing but praise for the organisation and splendid surface of the roads.
I’m certainly not up to their level but do manage a stretch downhill to the nearby town of Guatapé. The attractive lakeside village, is about 40 miles south of the city, and the white walls of its traditional houses are covered in brightly painted murals of people and animals.
The star attraction here is the climb up 659 steps to the top of El Peñón de Guatapé for a stunning view of the lake below the green mountains.
Colombia is certainly geared up for the outdoors and ditching my bike, I fly an hour to Santa Marta on the Caribbean coast, to trek to the Ciudad Perdita, or Lost City.
Dating from the 7th century, the Spanish conquistadors wiped out the Tairona people who built it, in their quest for Eldorado. It wasn’t really lost, just forgotten until tomb robbers rediscovered it in the 1970s.
It’s still sacred to the indigenous Kogi people and access is strictly limited. The trek there and back takes four days, and you have to go as part of a group with local guides.
We start with a bone shattering 4WD journey to the start of the trek at El Mamey. The other hikers are all young, less than half my age, the majority Dutch, with a handful of Americans and Canadian.
The whole trek is less than 35 miles and while you need a certain level of fitness, they say anyone can do it. Having said that, the afternoon starts with a gruelling climb uphill and of course I’m the slow one at the back, with the long-legged Dutch pushing on ahead.
The humidity is high and a few Kogi women, in their distinctive white smocks, pass me on mules. I drop down to the first camp by the river and plunge into the deep water pools to wash off the day’s toil.
The second day is the toughest, as we climb deeper into the mountains and cultivated fields give way to tropical forest. At a Kogi village, the women and children emerge from circular thatched huts to watch us pass — the men are out hunting — as small pigs shuffle around.
Later there are rivers to cross, but since it’s the dry season the water is shallow.
Our evening’s camp is within striking distance of the Lost City and the night time sounds of the forest lull me to sleep. It’s an early call, just before dawn, and then a steep climb up a series of 1,200 moss covered steps into the mist.
A couple of soldiers with automatic weapons guard the entrance, but they’re so laid back that they even lend their rifles for selfies.
Unlike that other famous lost city, Machu Picchu, the buildings here were wood and thatch, so only the foundations remain. A series of concentric circles, on wide terraces like manicured lawns, are connected by winding pathways.
Spread over an area of about 30 hectares, 250 terraces have been discovered so far and around 4,000 people are believed to have lived here at its peak.
Apparently there are other settlements lost in the jungle, and as the early morning mist lifts, allowing the sunlight to pierce the deep green canopy, the only sounds come from the birds and a nearby waterfall.
It’s a magical place — until the spell is suddenly broken by that hunting gun fire.
I take a deep breath and prepare for the long hike back, reflecting that it’s not only the Lost City that’s ripe for rediscovery.
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