El Poblado: the neighborhood hidden in its hillsides

El Poblado is not just Provenza: welcome to the hillsides that tell the other story

When people say "El Poblado", they almost always think of Parque Lleras, of Calle 10 with its craft cocktail bars, and of the glass buildings multiplying like mushrooms. But the real El Poblado, the one that breathes, that smells of wet earth and freshly brewed coffee, is on the hillsides that rise from Avenida El Poblado toward the east. I'm talking about that strip that goes from Calle 10 upward, passing 14th, 18th, and 20th, where the asphalt ends and the stone paths begin that locals know as "las lomas." This article is for you, digital nomad or newly arrived professional, who wants to stop seeing El Poblado as a postcard and start living it as a neighborhood with memory. Here I'm not going to recommend the trendy rooftop; I'm going to tell you how to walk through history, greet lifelong neighbors, and understand why this comuna is, at the same time, the most modern and the most traditional in Medellín.

From country estates to a vertical city: 30 years that changed everything

To understand the hillsides, you first have to go down to the origin. In the late 19th century and for much of the 20th, El Poblado was exactly that: a settlement of country estates where Medellín's wealthy families had their vacation homes. The San José church, in the main park, was the epicenter of that rural life. The hillsides, what are now 10th, 14th, 18th, and 20th streets, were planted with coffee, plantains, and fruit trees. Farmers went up and down on foot along trails that are now avenues, and water was collected in streams like La Presidenta or El Salado, which still run, though often hidden under concrete.

The change wasn't gradual: it was an explosion. In the 80s and 90s, drug trafficking and the consequent migration of upper-class families from the city center pushed urbanization. The hillside lots, which before were worth nothing because they were "too steep," became gold. Builders started cutting down trees to erect apartment towers with city views. By the year 2000, El Poblado was already the symbol of modern Medellín, but that modernity was built on a network of pedestrian paths and streams that never fully disappeared. Today, in August 2026, the tension between old and new is more visible than ever: cranes next to bahareque houses, and mountain bikers sharing the trail with ladies carrying groceries.

The first settlements: beyond the legend of the Indians

There's a story told in the neighborhood's schools: that the name El Poblado comes from an indigenous settlement predating the founding of Medellín. It's not a myth. On the hillsides, specifically near the La Presidenta stream, remains of pre-Hispanic cultures that inhabited the area have been found. The Spaniards, upon arriving, called the site "El Poblado de San Lorenzo," and from that the name derived. That heritage is felt in the names of the trails: "La Locura" is not a modern whim, but a path that connected the estates with the center of the settlement and was used by muleteers to bring down the coffee. Walking it today is stepping on the same stones those muleteers stepped on, though now with trail running shoes and the city's background noise.

What to do: the pedestrian route of the hillsides (from 10th to 20th)

If there's one experience that defines El Poblado beyond the party, it's walking. Not in the touristy sense of "taking a stroll," but in the local sense of "climbing the hill." The neighborhood's topography is brutal: in less than 2 linear kilometers, you climb more than 300 meters of elevation. That means two things: first, your legs will complain; second, the views from above are among the best in Medellín. The route I propose is a loop that starts on Calle 10, climbs up Carrera 33 (the road that goes up to Patio Bonito), connects with the La Locura trail, and comes down by El Salado. It's a 3 to 4 hour walk, depending on how long you take at the stops.

Sendero La Locura: the locals' secret viewpoint

The entrance to the La Locura trail is at the top of Calle 18, near the school. Don't expect an entrance marked with nice signs: it's a hole in the fence leading to a dirt path. Locals use it daily to go down to the supermarket or walk their dogs. The trail winds between unplastered brick houses, gardens with lemon trees, and some stretches of dry tropical forest that survived urbanization. After 20 minutes of climbing, you reach a natural viewpoint on some rocks: the panoramic view of Medellín is complete, with the city stretching north and the Aburrá Valley embracing it all. It's the perfect place to watch the sunset without paying admission to any rooftop.

Fun fact: the name "La Locura" doesn't come from the difficulty of the path, but from an old estate that was called that. Muleteers would say "I'm going to La Locura" and people thought they were crazy for climbing such a steep slope with loaded mules. Today, the name stuck, and those of us who climb on foot understand perfectly why.

Quebrada El Salado: the lung that resists

Coming down the other side of the hill, you reach the El Salado stream. This is, perhaps, the hidden gem of the hillsides. The stream comes down from the hill and passes under Avenida El Poblado, but in its upper stretch, between 18th and 20th streets, you can still walk along its bank. There's a pedestrian path that follows it for about 800 meters, with guayacán and ceiba trees providing grateful shade. In the mornings, you'll see ladies exercising, children going to school, and a few brave souls bathing in the pools that form. It's not a movie-style natural pool: it's an urban river that has survived pollution and concrete, and that neighbors care for like a treasure. There's a residents' association that does monthly clean-up days; if you come across one of those, join in. It's the best way to meet real local people.

Heritage houses: the architecture that didn't give up

Between Calle 10 and 14th, hidden among modern towers, there are a handful of houses from the 40s and 50s that resisted demolition. The most famous is the Casa de la Música, on Calle 10, but there are others less known worth seeking out. On Carrera 36, for example, there's a bahareque house with a clay tile roof that today functions as a crafts workshop. It has no name on the door, but if you knock, the owner, Doña Marta, will tell you stories of when all this was pastureland. These houses are the last testimony of the neighborhood's rural life, and they're in constant danger of being bought by construction companies. Walking there is an act of memory.

Where to eat and drink: the stops locals make (not tourists)

After the walk, the body asks for food. And I don't mean the restaurants in the Zona Rosa, which are full of tourists and inflated prices. I mean the stalls that hillside residents have frequented for years. On the corner of Calle 14 with Carrera 38, there's a bakery with no name on the facade, but everyone knows it as "the fat guy's place." They make corn arepas with cheese that are the perfect reward after climbing La Locura. Price: around $6,000 COP per arepa, a steal compared to the $25,000 the same arepa costs at any trendy café.

For lunch, I recommend going up to Calle 20, where there's a corridor of home-style food that's becoming famous among office workers in the area. There are three or four daily menu restaurants ("almuerzo ejecutivo" they call it here) that offer soup, a main dish, and natural juice for about $15,000 COP. Don't expect a menu or Michelin-star presentation: expect real food, made with love and with portions that fill you up. One of those places, called "El Sabor de la Abuela" (not to be confused with the ice cream chain), has a bandeja paisa that's legendary among those who work in the nearby office towers. Check the hours before going, because many of these restaurants close early, around 4 in the afternoon.

For coffee: the corner store, not the franchise

If you're one of those who need caffeine after lunch, forget the international chains. At the top of Calle 18, there's a neighborhood store that also roasts its own coffee. It's called "Café La Loma" and is run by Don Jairo, a 70-year-old man who has lived on the hillside his whole life. Don Jairo buys green coffee from farmers in Santa Elena and roasts it in a metal drum he adapted himself. The coffee is strong, full-bodied, and costs $2,000 COP per cup. If he takes a liking to you, he'll tell you what life was like before the buildings arrived, and show you old photos of the neighborhood he has taped to the wall. It's literally having a coffee in a living museum.

How to get there and transportation: the odyssey of climbing the hill

Here's the uncomfortable truth: the hillsides of El Poblado aren't easy to reach by public transportation. The Metro doesn't reach the top, and the buses that go up are scarce and not very frequent. The most practical way is by taxi or ride-hailing app (Uber, DiDi, inDriver). From Parque Lleras, a trip to Calle 20 costs between $10,000 and $15,000 COP. Drivers know the area well, so don't worry about giving directions, just say "take me up the 18th, please."

If you prefer the bus, there's a route that leaves from downtown and goes up Avenida El Poblado to Calle 10, but it doesn't go further. To get to 14th or 18th street, you'll have to walk a good stretch uphill. That's not necessarily bad: walking is the best way to soak up the neighborhood's atmosphere, see the houses, greet people. But if you're in a hurry or carrying luggage, don't do it. The slope is treacherous, especially under the midday sun.

An option many don't know about is the Metrocable, but beware: the nearest Metrocable is at the San Javier station, which is on the other side of the city. There's no cable car that goes up the hillsides of El Poblado, despite politicians' promises. So, to be clear: taxi, app, or walk. Those are your options. And if you're a cyclist, the hills are a serious challenge; you'll see many locals on mountain bikes climbing as if it were nothing, but that requires steel legs and a good gear range.

Local tips: how to get around, what to avoid, and how to win over the neighbors

Here are the tips you won't find in tourist guides, but that those of us who live here will thank you for following:

• Always greet. On the hillsides, people greet each other even if they don't know each other. A "good morning" or "good afternoon" as you pass isn't optional, it's the norm. If you don't greet, t