I would like to write about my hometown. I was born in Mompox, a little town on the Caribbean Offshore of Colombia, on a left bank of the Magdalena River. My town is really famous for its colonial architecture and for the articles of gold and silver that craftsmen have made during the last five centuries. Also, we have the most beautiful holy week in Colombia, and year after year Momposinos Nazarenes like me fall upon our shoulders images made on wood that dramatize or stage Jesus Christ’s passion and death.

Many journalists and historians have written about Mompox. They have said that my town is a lost city in the time because even in these days the tourisms can walk around, ride a bicycle or make ecotourism without risks. Maybe, that happen because Mompox is the biggest island inside my country, and we only have one way to go and leave the city that is the river.

If you go to Mompox, you should visit the churches, the squares, the Cultural House, the Golden Museum, the cemetery. Likewise, you have to taste our typical food and take a walk for the street near to the river.


“Mompox doesn't exist, we sometimes dream about it, but it doesn't exist.”
Gabriel García Márquez.
Literature Nobel Prize Winner, 1982.