How a Solo Backpacker From Australia Found Her Favorite Spot in Colombia

Okay, confession time. I almost skipped Jardín entirely.

I'd been traveling through Colombia for about six weeks at that point — Cartagena, Medellín, Guatapé, the whole gringo trail — and honestly, I was starting to feel a little burnt out on "charming colonial towns." I know, I know. But when you've seen your fifteenth pastel-colored plaza, they start to blur together. A friend I met in a hostel in Medellín basically grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "Sarah, if you skip Jardín, you will regret it for the rest of your life." She was being dramatic. She was also completely right.

So I booked four nights at Isla de Pascua based on her recommendation, hopped on a bus from Terminal del Sur, and settled in for the four-hour ride through some of the most stunning mountain scenery I've seen anywhere — and I'm Australian, so the bar for scenery is high.

First Impressions: Wait, This Place Has a Pool?

I arrived at Isla de Pascua mid-afternoon, sweaty and bus-dazed, and the first thing I saw was the pool. A proper pool. Surrounded by tropical plants and mountain views. In a hostel. In a tiny Colombian pueblo. I literally turned to the girl at reception and said, "Is this real life?"

She laughed. Apparently they get that a lot.

I dumped my bag in my dorm, changed into my swimmers, and spent the rest of the afternoon floating in that pool, watching the clouds drift over the mountains. That evening, I wandered down to the plaza, had a COP $12,000 trucha (trout) dinner that was honestly better than restaurants I've paid $40 for back home, and thought: okay, yeah. This place is different.

Making Friends (AKA Why I Travel Solo)

Here's the thing about solo travel that people who haven't done it don't always get — you're never actually alone. Not at a good hostel. And Isla de Pascua is a really, really good hostel.

By my second morning, I'd already formed a little crew. There was Max from Berlin (naturally), a couple from Montréal who were on their honeymoon (at a hostel — respect), and a Colombian girl named Laura from Bogotá who was taking a week off work. We bonded over breakfast, which the hostel serves in this gorgeous common area with hammocks and views that belong on a postcard.

Laura became my adventure buddy for the next three days. She spoke perfect English but insisted on helping me practice my truly terrible Spanish. "Sarah, it's 'cueva,' not 'cuerva.' You're saying 'deer-cave.'" I was not, in fact, saying deer-cave, but her corrections kept me laughing the entire trip.

Cueva del Esplendor: The Hike That Broke Me (In the Best Way)

Day two, we signed up for the Cueva del Esplendor hike. I'd seen the photos — that iconic waterfall pouring through a hole in the cave ceiling — and I needed to see it in person.

The hike itself is no joke. About four hours total of trekking through cloud forest, across rivers, up muddy trails that had me questioning every life choice I'd ever made. My hiking boots were absolutely caked. But when you finally reach that cave and see the waterfall... I'm not exaggerating when I say I cried a little. It's one of those places where nature just shows off, and you feel so small and so lucky at the same time.

We swam in the freezing pool beneath the waterfall, took approximately 400 photos (for the 'gram, obviously), and hiked back out feeling like absolute legends. That night, our whole group gathered by the pool at Isla de Pascua, sharing beers and swapping stories, and I remember thinking: this is it. This is why I left my accounting job in Sydney.

The Pool Situation (Deserves Its Own Section)

I cannot overstate how much I loved that pool. After a day of hiking or exploring, coming back to Isla de Pascua and just... floating... while the sun set behind the mountains — it was genuinely healing. There were afternoons where I didn't even leave the hostel. I'd grab a book from the little library they have, claim a hammock, and just exist.

One evening, someone brought a speaker out and a bunch of us ended up having an impromptu salsa lesson by the pool. Nobody knew what they were doing. It was perfect.

The Things I Almost Missed

On my third day, Laura convinced me to wake up at 5 AM to watch the sunrise from Cristo Rey. I am not a morning person. I want to make that very clear. But we hiked up in the dark with headlamps, arrived just as the sky was turning pink, and watched the entire valley of Jardín light up below us. The Basilica's twin spires catching the first light. Mist curling through the coffee farms. Roosters crowing from somewhere down in town.

Worth every minute of lost sleep.

I also spent an afternoon wandering the main plaza, drinking tinto with locals, and petting approximately eleven dogs. The plaza in Jardín isn't like other Colombian plazas — people actually hang out there. Old men play chess. Kids kick footballs. Couples share ice cream on the painted chairs. It feels alive in a way that tourist-heavy plazas don't.

Why I Stayed Four Nights (And Should Have Stayed Longer)

Here's my biggest regret about Jardín: I only stayed four nights. I had a bus booked to Salento and I was too organized for my own good. If I could do it again, I'd cancel that bus and stay a full week.

Isla de Pascua made it so easy to just... be. The WiFi was solid (I managed to video-call mum without it cutting out once, which is more than I can say for half the hostels in Medellín). The staff were incredibly friendly and genuinely helpful — they organized my Cueva del Esplendor tour, recommended restaurants, and even called a tuk-tuk for me when I needed to get to the bus terminal.

The dorms were clean, the beds were comfortable, the hot water was actually hot — these things matter when you've been backpacking for six weeks, trust me.

My Advice for Solo Travelers Heading to Jardín

1. Stay at Isla de Pascua. I know I'm biased, but seriously. The pool alone is worth it, and the social vibe is incredible without being a party hostel.

2. Do the Cueva del Esplendor hike. Book it through the hostel. Bring waterproof everything. You will get muddy. You will not care.

3. Stay longer than you think. Three nights minimum, four or five if you can swing it. Jardín rewards slow travel.

4. Learn some Spanish. Even basic phrases go a long way here. The locals are patient and sweet about it, and they'll love you for trying.

5. Budget generously for food. Not because it's expensive (it's ridiculously cheap) but because you'll want to try everything. The trout. The arepas. The dulces. Oh god, the dulces.

To the friend in Medellín who told me not to skip Jardín: thank you. You were right. And to Isla de Pascua: thanks for being the hostel that reminded me why I started this whole crazy backpacking adventure in the first place.

I'll be back. Probably sooner than I think.

— Sarah, somewhere in Salento, already missing that pool