It was 2012 and I wanted to submit a travel story for a writing competition.
At first, I couldn’t decide what my most memorable travel experience was; what was the most fun, enlightening, life-changing experience I’d had, one that made me who I am today? Several places came to mind but the most obvious didn’t stand out immediately, which made me question if it was the best story to share. Why wasn’t it the first thing I thought of? It’s definitely the most physically demanding, emotionally challenging travel experience I’ve ever had.
By the time it was over, I had bleeding blisters, a fractured toe, a body pumped with coca leaves, and the knowledge that I could truly do anything I set my mind to, regardless of how impossible it seemed at first.
I’d always wanted to see the Lost City for myself. Known as Teyuna in the native indigenous language, it’s an archaeological gem built atop a mountain near the city of Santa Marta in Colombia’s Caribbean coast. Discovered in the 1970s by treasure hunters, it remains one of the most enigmatic pre-columbian sites in Latin America, and therefore a beckoning mystery to adventure lovers like myself.
The hike would be five days long—three days up, two days down. We had to carry our own packs and sleep in hammocks during the increasingly cold nights. It was perfect. Our group set out with tonnes of energy and excitement, ready to be blown away by this city lost in time, in the jungle, at over 1,000 metres above sea level. We definitely underestimated how hard the hike would be.
Climbing was exhausting and I didn’t think I would make it to the top. Just a few hours in, I begged the guide to let me stay at a local family’s house and pick me up on the way back down. But he was patient and encouraging and told me no one stayed behind. I struggled and pushed through, and though I was the last one to make it to the top, I made it! I survived despite crossing the Buritaca River countless times, climbing up hundreds of ancient stone steps, and stopping every few minutes to catch my breath. We even hired a donkey to carry our packs.
But it was all worth it. I felt the mossy stones palpitating with the Tayrona’s legacy, evoking the history and the stories of this vanished people. I couldn’t believe I was there, touching the stones and stepping on the terraces, sitting on the edge of this ancient city, being enveloped by the late afternoon fog. And then we had to start climbing down.
The first full day of our descent started out horribly for me. My blisters were so bad I was walking barefoot, so I was given a handful of coca leaves to chew on. And thank Teyuna because I fractured my little toe when we stopped for lunch when I gracefully walked into one of the centennial stones. The leaves gave me enough energy to forget the pain and run through the jungle, down sandy paths, over slippery waterfalls, across the freezing river, and back to sea level.
Despite the aches and pains and the constant emotional uncertainty—can I actually do this, will I reach the top?—visiting the Lost City will remain one of my greatest accomplishments, one that gave me peace and confidence through raw pain.
Laura Restrepo Ortega 