When you go to Medellín, be sure to leave Medellín
A lot of people say that there’s not much to do in Seattle, but the classic retort is that it’s not about what’s in the city—it’s how many things there are to do outside the city that make it special. This is similar to Medellin. The second largest city in Colombia certainly has things to do, including a couple of museums, great bars and restaurants, neighborhood tours, and a thriving club scene. However, it would be a shame to go all the way to Medellin and not explore outside the city. If you drive 30 minutes outside the city—through extremely long tunnels that cut through the mountains—you will be in a peaceful jungle with endless adventures at your feet. Of the many options including hiking, birding, ATV tours, coffee farm tours, and zip lining, we decided to spend the day white water rafting on Rio Calderas and paragliding in Cocorná.
We booked our tour through Expedition Colombia. They picked us up at 9am sharp from a hotel 10 minutes walking distance from our Airbnb, shepherded us two hours outside the city in a private van, and dropped us off at the rafting location to meet our guide, Mael, a trilingual Parisian who went rogue by leaving France and settling into the Colombian countryside a decade ago.
We had intended to paraglide first, but the morning rain made for poor flying conditions. So, we started on the river, which worked out well, as we were going to get wet anyway. After a 10 minute walk through the jungle (beware of ants and wear close-toed shoes), we arrived at the riverbank. We had three guides with us. Julian captained our raft, and Mael and another colleague, Javier, flanked us in kayaks. We got life vests, helmets, and even water jackets to keep us warm. After a few safety instructions, we jumped into the boat and floated through very mild rapids for an hour to get to our lunch spot, where we ate a delicious homemade meal served in banana leaves.
Lunch spot
After lunch, the real fun began. We got more safety instructions and braced ourselves to hit four main rapids, the highest of which was class 5. Each rapid has a name, my favorite of which is Big Eyes—because that’s the face you make when you see the drop! The rapids were so big we had to take the “safety position” of quickly scooting from the edge of the raft into the center to brace ourselves for the water that engulfed us entirely. Everyone’s adrenaline was pumping as we approached each rapid, but our guide knew the river like the back of his hand and talked us through every rock, paddle stroke, and worst case scenario we might encounter. We practiced rescuing each other in the calm waters so that by the time we got to the big rapids, we had been prepped so thoroughly everyone knew exactly what to do. So, we followed instructions, held our breath, and tumbled down the rapids. By the time we were done, we all had smiles glued to our faces, laughing from the release of pent-up nerves and the thrill of survival.
Afterward, we bade farewell to our guides, jumped back into the van, and traveled another 20 minutes to the paragliding tour. I was nervous at first to try paragliding, but after some internet research I discovered that tandem paragliding is not only safe but also a specialty of Colombia. I was also on a trip with other women who had done it before, and she assured me how safe it was, so, by the time I reached the paragliding point, I had zero nerves and only excitement. It turned out to be one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced.
Unlike rafting where we had tons of hand-holding and preparation, the people leading the paragliding tours felt more like a NASCAR mechanic crew. There was barely any talking—most of them hardly spoke English—and everything happened around us in a blur. Two or three men got the parachute in place while the pilot and an on-the-ground coordinator locked us into our gear, and all of a sudden we got two instructions: run as fast as you can, and don’t sit down until you’re in the air. No other instructions, no explanations of what to expect, no mental or emotional prep time. Just, GO. Everything happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to film the take-off of the first person in our group; I didn’t know she was going until she was gone! When I got the signal, I ran like hell, feeling like a dog on a leash trying to outrun my master behind me. About 10 seconds later, I was in the air.
There was no drop, just glide. The feeling wasn’t even as much of a stomach drop as riding down an elevator. It was truly flying at its most peaceful. I let out a huge whoop as I glided weightlessly in the air. By that time, I was seated in a comfortable chair and had my arms outstretched to the wind. My pilot, someone from the local town who had been paragliding professionally for 15 years, was locked in tight behind me, which gave me an extra sense of security.
The feeling of weightlessness, of knowing that I was flying, of floating effortlessly above the world was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I’ve been on helicopters and enjoyed the view, but the noise, motion, and cramped quarters always leave me feeling queasy. Planes, too, have their great heights, but it’s tough to be locked in an uncomfortable chair for hours on end peering through a window the size of a postage stamp. Sea planes have bigger windows but worse noise and motion sickness. Parasailing just gives you a view of the ocean, and you’re strapped to a boat the whole time. Paragliding, though, is a flawless flight. It is peace and zen with a breathtaking view. For 10 perfect minutes, I soared effortlessly through the air.
Thankfully, while we were white water rafting, the weather had cleared up enough to enable the flight, but normally, flights take off from the field glide around, and can come back to the same takeoff spot to land. Weather conditions didn’t allow for this, though, so we took off from the top of the mountain and glided down to the town below. As we floated down into the valley, the pilot called to a group of vultures who were flying beneath us. Even in losing altitude, we were still higher than the birds.
I was a little unsure of the landing—I thought the pilot would have to hit the ground with his feet and run to lose momentum. However, it couldn’t have been easier. I was told to stick my legs straight up so my body formed an L shape. The landing was as easy as sitting in a chair; we just plopped down on the ground. Once we touched down, the zen was over, and the NASCAR efficiency continued. A team of locals swarmed us to quickly unbuckle the gear and repack the parachute, and someone came to pick us up in a car and shuttle us back up to the top. He drove like a race car driver, taking each turn at speed, honking before every blind turn. The drive was scarier than the flight! But time is money, and these guys had dozens more tourists at the top waiting on only five pilots. This well-oiled machine had everything timed perfectly, with each member of the crew taking up their part of the journey with precision and speed.
When my friends and I were all back at the takeoff point, we piled back into the white van and drove back to Medellin. After such an active and thrilling day, many of us fell asleep in the car, including me. I woke up, and I was home, like it had been a dream.
