Ciudad Perdida

Listen first. Somewhere below you, the Buritaca River runs over rocks, a steady roar softened by the trees. The air is warm and wet, and it smells of moss, mud and green leaves. Your legs are probably still shaking from the climb. Under your boots, the ground is not soil. It is stone, flat stones fitted together by human hands, now slick with moisture and edged with ferns. You are standing in a city that the forest held for centuries.

This place is known to most travellers as Ciudad Perdida, which means the Lost City in Spanish. But that name belongs to outsiders. The Indigenous peoples of these mountains call it Teyuna. It sits high in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, a mountain range in northern Colombia that rises steeply from the Caribbean coast. Few places on Earth climb from sea level to snow-capped peaks in such a short distance. That sharp rise creates many climates, stacked one on top of another.

The people who built Teyuna are known as the Tayrona. Archaeologists generally date the founding of this settlement to around the ninth century. That makes it centuries older than Machu Picchu in Peru, a comparison many visitors find surprising. Teyuna was not a single temple or a lonely fortress. It was a working town, and very likely an important centre for a wider network of villages scattered across these slopes. People lived here, traded here, farmed nearby and gathered here for ceremonies.

Now look at the shapes around you. The most striking feature of the site is its terraces. These are flat, round or oval platforms, built with stone retaining walls and stacked up the ridge. Researchers have counted well over a hundred of them. On top of these platforms stood houses made of wood and thatch. The wooden buildings rotted away long ago. What remains is the stone skeleton, the foundations and the circles where homes once stood.

The climb that brought you here was also part of the design. The approach includes a long stone staircase, often described as more than a thousand steps. Those steps are narrow and uneven, set into the hillside in a way that slowed every visitor down. Some people see a ceremonial meaning in that slow arrival. Others see simple engineering for a steep slope. Either way, nobody reached Teyuna in a hurry, then or now.

Here is something many visitors miss. The Tayrona were remarkable water engineers. This is one of the rainiest corners of Colombia, and heavy rain on a steep mountain can destroy almost anything. The builders answered with channels, drains and stone paths that guided water away from the platforms. That system is a big part of why these terraces survived for so long under the forest. When it rains during your visit, watch where the water goes. Often it still follows the old routes.

So why was the city abandoned? The broad answer is the Spanish conquest in the sixteenth century. European arrival brought violence and disease to the Caribbean coast, and the Tayrona world came under heavy pressure. Over time, Teyuna emptied, and the forest moved in. Trees rooted between the stones. Moss covered the walls. For hundreds of years, the city was known mainly to the Indigenous peoples of the mountains, who never truly forgot it.

The modern chapter begins in the 1970s, and it is not a romantic story. The site was found by treasure hunters, local looters searching for gold and pottery in ancient graves. Tayrona goldwork was beautiful, and it sold well on the black market. Word of their finds spread, and Colombian authorities and archaeologists arrived later in the decade. They began clearing and studying the terraces. Much was lost to looting before science could record it.

And this brings us to the most important point of all. Teyuna is not a dead city to everyone. The Kogi, Arhuaco, Wiwa and Kankuamo peoples live in these mountains today, and they see themselves as descendants of the people who built it. For them, this is a sacred place. Their spiritual leaders are called mamos. They still come here to make offerings and to carry out rituals for the balance of the Earth.

The Kogi in particular have a striking idea about the rest of us. They often describe themselves as the elder brothers, the guardians of the world's balance. Outsiders, in their view, are the younger brothers, who damage the Earth because they do not understand it. You may see local people on the trail in simple white clothing. If you do, keep a respectful distance and never photograph anyone without asking first. Your guide can explain what is appropriate.

Take a moment to look past the stone and into the forest itself. The trees around you hold a huge variety of life. Butterflies drift through the clearings. Birds call from the canopy, often heard long before they are seen. Clouds move across the ridges and can swallow the whole site within minutes, then lift again. The light changes constantly up here. One moment the terraces glow green and gold. The next, they turn grey and quiet in the mist.

As you walk the upper platforms, notice how the stonework changes. Some walls are tight and careful. Others are rougher, rebuilt or settled over time. There is also a large carved boulder on the site that many guides call the map stone. Its lines are often read as a map of the region's rivers and settlements. Nobody knows for certain what it meant to the Tayrona, so treat any single explanation as a theory, not a fact.

Now, before you start down, stand still for a moment. Feel the cool stone under your hand and the damp air on your skin. Listen again for the river below. People walked these same steps over a thousand years ago, carrying food, firewood and prayers. When you leave, take the stairs slowly and watch your footing. And as the trees close in behind you, remember that for the people of these mountains, Teyuna was never lost at all.