Last January I was visiting one of my best friends in Montreal during what felt like the deepest, most relentless stretch of winter. We were both in the final term of our graduate programs so technically finished with classes but buried under final projects, research, and the looming pressure of what came next. It was an exciting time, but also an exhausting one. Our days were spent hunched over laptops in cafés, trading notes about our theses and half-joking about whether we would ever feel relaxed again.
Montreal in January doesn’t exactly help with morale. The temperature had been hovering around –30°C, and every walk outside felt like a small act of endurance. We loved the city, and we loved catching up, but between the icy sidewalks and endless gray skies we kept finding ourselves daydreaming about warm places. Beaches. Sun. Somewhere we could feel our toes again.
One afternoon, while we were procrastinating on schoolwork, my friend suddenly looked up from her laptop with a grin.
“I think I just found us a trip to Colombia.”
At first I laughed. Flying off to South America on short notice seemed wildly impractical. We had deadlines, responsibilities, and a very long list of reasons why it probably wasn’t the best idea. But the more we looked at the deal, the more tempting it became. Colombia had been on my travel bucket list for years, and suddenly the possibility was sitting right in front of us.
Within an hour we had convinced ourselves that spontaneity was exactly what we needed. A few clicks later, the tickets were booked.
Just like that, we were going to Colombia.
From Winter to the Tropics
The first thing that struck me when we arrived in Cartagena was the temperature. Leaving behind the biting cold of Montreal and stepping into +25°C Caribbean air was honestly a shock to the system. The warmth wrapped around us immediately, heavy with humidity and the faint scent of saltwater. After weeks of thick coats and frozen eyelashes, it felt surreal to be standing outside in light clothing, feeling the sun on our skin.
Cartagena itself looked almost impossibly beautiful. The historic walled city felt like stepping into another era: narrow streets lined with brightly painted buildings, balconies overflowing with flowers, and huge wooden doors that hinted at hidden courtyards inside. Everywhere we turned there seemed to be another perfect scene: yellow walls glowing in the sunlight, street musicians playing in plazas, vendors selling fresh fruit from colorful carts.
But Cartagena isn’t just history, it’s incredibly alive.
The city’s layered history was everywhere. The thick stone walls surrounding the old town had been built centuries ago during the colonial period to protect the port from pirates and invasions. Walking along them at sunset, you could look out over the ocean while waves crashed below, imagining what the city must have looked like hundreds of years ago.
But Cartagena isn’t just history, it’s incredibly alive. During the day the streets buzzed with a mix of locals, travelers, artists, and vendors selling everything from handmade jewelry to freshly fried arepas. We quickly fell into a rhythm of exploring the city, ducking into cafés for strong Colombian espresso, and sampling whatever seafood dish someone recommended next.
The food alone was reason enough to visit. Plates of grilled fish, coconut rice, ceviche, and endless varieties of street snacks kept us happily fueled as we explored museums, galleries, and hidden plazas.
Cartagena After Dark
After a few days of exploring the city by day, we decided it was time to experience Cartagena’s famous nightlife.
The transformation at night was incredible. Streets that had been relaxed and sun-drenched during the afternoon suddenly filled with music, laughter, and the glow of warm lights hanging over plazas. Open doors spilled salsa, reggaeton, and Latin pop into the streets.
Eventually we found ourselves inside a crowded discoteca. The dance floor was packed and, despite our hopes, there was almost no air conditioning. Within minutes the heat was intense, but no one seemed to care. The energy in the room was contagious. Everyone was dancing.
What I loved most was how intergenerational it all felt. At one point I ended up chatting with a group of locals who had come out together—including their mom. Not only was she on the dance floor all night, but she also had far better moves than I did. Watching people of all ages dance together made the whole experience feel joyful rather than intimidating.
Even as someone who normally prefers early nights, I couldn’t help getting swept up in the music.
Adventures Beyond the City
The next several days were a blur of exploration and relaxation. We visited museums and art galleries, wandered through markets, and ventured inland for a jungle excursion that felt like stepping into a completely different world.
One day we took a boat trip to Islas del Rosario, a stunning chain of Caribbean islands about an hour off the coast of Cartagena. The water there was the kind of clear turquoise you usually only see in photos. We spent the day swimming, relaxing on white sand beaches, and floating in the ocean under the blazing sun. Compared to the frozen landscapes we had left behind in Canada, it felt almost unreal.
Somewhere in the middle of all this exploring, we also discovered another unexpected part of Colombian culture: massages.
A Memorable Massage
A few days into the trip I booked us a massage at a local spa. What followed was…not quite what we expected.
After we entered the treatment room, the staff motioned for us to undress—completely. In Canada that’s not typically the norm, but we decided to go along with it. Moments later the usual privacy sheets were moved aside and we were lying there, fully exposed, exchanging slightly alarmed glances across the room.
My friend looked at me with wide eyes that clearly said: Did you just book us something very different from a normal massage?
For a moment I wasn’t sure either.
But as the massage continued it became clear that this was simply a very thorough full-body massage. The boundaries we were used to in North America didn’t really apply here—therapists worked shoulders, hips, thighs, and areas that would usually be skipped back home. Once we realized this was simply the local style, we relaxed into the experience.
And honestly? It was fantastic.
Later in the trip we learned that this kind of massage is quite normal in Colombia. I even ended up getting one on the beach where being completely naked felt oddly freeing—like stepping outside the usual North American expectations around modesty and privacy.
Salsa Lessons (and Humility)
Toward the end of the trip we decided to try something I had always wanted to do: a salsa dancing class.
Unfortunately, wanting to try something and being good at it are two very different things.
To put it politely, I was terrible.
I had never taken a dance class before, and while everyone else seemed to glide effortlessly across the floor, I constantly missed steps, spun the wrong way, or ended up a beat behind. At one point I’m fairly certain I confused the instructor entirely.
To their credit, the locals in the class were incredibly patient. People kept encouraging me to keep trying, laughing kindly when I inevitably tangled my feet again.
One fellow student in particular seemed especially determined to help. A friendly software engineer from Bogotá, he carefully counted out the rhythm and gently guided me through the steps with a hand at my hip.
At one point his hands kept repositioning me as I stumbled through the choreography, and I couldn’t help laughing to myself…between this and the massages earlier in the trip, Colombia seemed very comfortable with hands on full-body guidance.
Karaoke and a Curious Invitation
After class, our group continued the evening at a nearby karaoke bar. In a moment of questionable judgment, I decided to sing “Hips Don’t Lie.” Considering Shakira is practically a national hero in Colombia, this was a bold, and perhaps misguided, choice.
Let’s just say the performance will not be launching a music career.
But the night was full of laughter, and by the time we finished singing and chatting, my new dance instructor suggested continuing the evening somewhere else.
He mentioned something called a love hotel.
I had never heard of such a thing before. As he explained it, these hotels rent rooms for short stays and are designed specifically for couples seeking privacy. The concept sounded both amusing and fascinating.
After a quick conversation with my best friend, who assured me she’d keep an eye on things, I decided to embrace the spirit of adventure that had gotten us to Colombia in the first place.
The hotel itself was unlike anything I had ever seen: themed rooms, mirrored ceilings, and an efficient little window for discreet deliveries of essentials. The entire concept was so unexpected that I couldn’t help laughing.
I won’t go into details…but I will say the experience was memorable.
Looking Back
While the massage mishap and the surprising love hotel certainly stand out as some of the more outrageous stories from the trip, what I remember most vividly are the smaller moments: warm ocean breezes, strong coffee in the morning, colorful streets glowing at sunset, and the constant rhythm of music somewhere in the background.
Colombia felt vibrant, welcoming, and full of life.
My only regret from the trip was not speaking better Spanish. While many people spoke English, I often felt like I was missing pieces of conversations that might have made the experience even richer.
Even so, the trip left me completely enchanted. During those two weeks I explored only the northern part of the country, and there is still so much more to see: Medellín, Bogotá, and the southern regions are all firmly on my future travel list.
If anything, this journey reminded me how powerful a spontaneous decision can be. What started as two stressed graduate students escaping a brutal winter turned into one of the most vibrant and memorable trips I’ve ever taken.
And something tells me it won’t be my last Colombian adventure.
