A Journey to Call Home: How Backpacking Through Colombia Became My Forever Haven
I’ve always imagined my life as a movie script. Ever since I was young, I’d capture a burst of laughter at sunset on my retina and replay it in slow motion in my head a million times. As I grew older these moments became taboo in a world that constantly encourages us to rush for more. I am a rebel by nature, so I stood against it. The solution? A one-way ticket to Colombia…
My first big solo trip saw me coming in touch with the South American continent for the first time in 2020, in Peru. It was the sort of narrative you see in the movies. Quit a comfortable life in Denmark and went backpacking at the end of the world. I instantly clicked with the Latin culture, but unfortunately, the pandemic hit just a few days after I put foot in South America. Some might call it a failed trip, but I wouldn’t change anything. It opened my appetite for traveling and encouraged me to keep on writing my own script. The movie script.
After juggling through the pandemic and refusing to surrender, I felt I had unfinished business with Latin America. I was sitting in front of my laptop and looking up to recreate the dream adventure. A cheap flight to Colombia popped up. Done! I said I’d just start here and eventually go down to Peru, and all the other countries. But one month turned into two, then into six, then a year... I was in Colombia, a place that instantly captured my heart.
What started as a simple desire to backpack through a foreign land turned into an extraordinary journey that transformed my life. For months, I ventured through lush jungles, towering mountains, and stunning beaches, immersing myself in Colombian culture, and befriending locals who showed me the true beauty of the country.
But little did I know, my adventure through Colombia would lead me to something I never expected: a vivacious land full of life, love, and adventure. A new home. So I threw caution to the wind, said goodbye to my old life, and decided to live in Colombia the life I always dreamed of.
From backpacker to becoming a local
I only had the plan made for a few days. I believe the true beauty of traveling comes with the ability to “unlearn.” So I was roaming around with a blank canvas, ready for new experiences, places, and people to arrive into my life and shake up my world. After being left in awe in Bogota, Medellin, and Cartagena, tasting the mesmerizing aroma of Eje Cafetero and daydreaming through the lofty palm trees of Cocora, dancing for 3 days in a row at the carnival of Barranquilla, I finally arrived at Santa Marta.
I spent around two weeks in the small city at the Caribbean coast. The backpacking urge suddenly faded away in the warm breeze of la Bahía, as I was starting to experience a home feeling. One day I decided to take a trip to Minca since everybody was talking about it. But there was one place specifically that people were very enthusiastic about - Masaya Casas Viejas. It was impossible for me to book a bed there as it was sold out. I remember refreshing the booking page and being so close to giving up. But destiny decided otherwise, one bed got freed up and I instantly booked it. Instead of going back to Santa Marta and probably continuing my backpacking journey, I took a moto taxi and ventured up into the lush jungle. As soon as I passed the threshold of Casas Viejas, I felt the energy of La Sierra wrapping around my senses.
I spent there a night as a guest, mesmerized by the out-of-this-world hospitality of everybody working there, but also of the travelers. The place seems to instill peace and understanding in everybody, locals or foreigners, employees or guests. I knew this was something special, so I decided to hang the backpack for a while. From a simple guest, I became the guy who didn’t want to leave! I got adopted by Masaya Casas Viejas and its beautiful people…
For four months, I would wake up every day to the trills of hundreds of colorful birds, greeted by La Sierra and all its soul-warming hues, to the smell of fresh coffee from La Victoria, to the smiles of my adopting family… from cleaning, to maintenance, to reception, to restaurant and to management, everybody just made me feel at home. There were moments in which I thought I never felt such warmth, not even in my home country!
But as all stories come to an end, it was time for me to leave. It was probably the hardest day of my voyage at the end of the world. I had to pack everything and go back to backpacking, back to serving the purpose I initially began the adventure with. I went down the bittersweet path to Medellin and had a final blast at my favorite rooftop in El Poblado - Masaya. But my journey had to continue far away from my newly found family…
I was finally going to Peru, to do justice to that failed trip in the pandemic. However, the battle inside of me was fierce. I put foot in Jose Maria Cordova airport and walked against my will to the security gate. I was looking through people and walls. Leaving didn’t feel quite right. The heart was on the course to win again and… it did. The plane to Lima left without me, and I turned around and came back to Medellin.
Opening my heart and discovering the magic
As much as I love Medellin, I knew I had to go back to la casita. I immediately texted Francisco, the manager, and told him I was coming back. He didn’t hesitate for a second and in a blink of an eye I was back at the airport, embarking on a flight to Santa Marta. I took a leap of faith and risked it all even against the rules… and all the abundance in the universe came my way. It was the heart winning against any rationale a sane person could possibly think of. It was me choosing what I must do, rather than what I should do. And all roads led to Minca. Once again.
If the first time I arrived at Casas Viejas I was wandering and getting surprised every day by the colors landing on my blank canvas, now the story was different. My soul was aching for me to be there. I needed to lose that flight to Peru. I needed to go back. And once I arrived again, love invaded my life. Every connection I had got multiplied in intensity and depth, every path I already walked was leading me to new sacred hidden places of rare beauty, every second passed was spent intentionally, and every breath taken was taken with gratitude.
If the first time I arrived at Casas Viejas I was wandering and getting surprised every day by the colors landing on my blank canvas, now the story was different. My soul was aching for me to be there. I needed to lose that flight to Peru. I needed to go back. And once I arrived again, love invaded my life. Every connection I had got multiplied in intensity and depth, every path I already walked was leading me to new sacred hidden places of rare beauty, every second passed was spent intentionally, and every breath taken was taken with gratitude.
It might sound cheesy, but I reached the point where everything we read about well-being, meditation, and personal development was running through my veins. It was no longer just a theory, I was it. I felt lighter and carried with me a light that many people got attracted to and that sparked many connections. Effortlessly. I learned that what needs to happen will always find a way.
I remember one day I woke up to the sound of “So Free” by Alex Serra. It was just so… beautiful. It felt like heaven. The music was coming from Angel’s Animal Flow class which was taking place by the pool every morning. An invitation to move your body and absorb all the prana (vital energy), what better way to start the day? There are not many moments that got engraved in my mind as that moment did. I always advocated for freedom, and now I was feeling so free…
Imagine this - 60 people from all over the world come every day to Casas Viejas to enjoy a few days in the little paradise of La Sierra. All like-minded people, amazing stories to share, beautiful human beings on the inside and on the outside. We were all so in tune. And then myself, living this reality every single day, with no expiration date. People might think I got bored, but surprisingly with every passing day I got more and more happy and grateful to be there.
There is something uniquely special and soothing in waking up surrounded by nature, to the smile and the sincere buenos dias whispered with affection by every single person crossing your path at Casas Viejas. Coffee and water from the mountain, freshly baked cake and bread, and slowly cooked food (but quickly served) made with love. When you arrive at this place time simply freezes, and lucky me I froze it for a year!
I got to know by heart the meandering paths inside the 500 hectares of La Victoria, I guided tourists through the mountain and let myself be guided during the special activity of forest bathing, I learned about letting go and receiving, I discovered miraculous waterfalls inside the property, and enjoyed their healing streams in complete privacy (they are not open for public). I even lived in a tent for three months in the summer! Unzipping my tent in the morning and stretching in front of Mother Nature, not a worry in the world… The script was real and truly alive. In a world that constantly encourages us to rush for more, I stopped and truly listened to my heart for the first time. Magic was unfolding in front of my feet.
La magia came forcefully into my life through cold river streams, smooth mountain breezes, and the people making this place feel like home. I was radiating light and I gained the confidence to venture again into the world, knowing that la casita would always be there for me. After more than a year at Masaya Casas Viejas, I had to go. On my last day, I went to say goodbye to the places that heal my soul and showed me magic. I wrote a note to the mountain and let it soak into the humid heart of la tierra. I also had a massage with señora Roza, our lovely indigenous lady who has the power to heal through her touch and ancestral medicine. I felt light, at peace, and sure about something: I will be back!
I kissed my dear Genesis and Isa, waved goodbye to my comrades in the kitchen, had a last little joke with Andrea at the reception, firmly hugged Francisco, my friend and the outstanding leader who makes sure Casas Viejas feels homey every day and got driven down by Arnaud, the architect of this dream I was fortunate enough to be part of. I watched with teary eyes la casita turning smaller and smaller in the rear mirror. But something magical was happening inside of me: la casita was actually growing bigger and bigger. Because true love doesn’t care about time and distance, and that’s what I found in Casas Viejas - the truest love. Gracias, gracias, gracias!
