By Fredy Calderón

In Colombia, there ought to be a city named “Fruit.” And if such a place existed, surely the perfect candidate would be Bogotá. That’s what our guide told us during a walking tour through the historic heart of the capital. It was then I learned that Bogotá reigns supreme when it comes to marketplaces—and that, thanks to its 19 district markets, one could, if determined enough to visit them all, eat a different fruit every day of the year without ever repeating. So said Camila, our guide, as she offered us a heaping plate to taste.

We were inside La Concordia Market, the second oldest in the city, according to her. Before this tour, I hadn’t really known what I was going to do in Bogotá. So it filled me with joy to discover that the city was a golden, dazzling mine of fruit, waiting to be unearthed by locals and curious visitors like myself. I decided then and there to set off on my own journey through the city’s markets. Each morning in Bogotá, I woke up excited for the new fruit I’d get to try for breakfast. I made it my mission, extending my stay from two days to seven, so I could leisurely explore some of the 19 markets. My plan was to visit two or three each day, having breakfast and lunch in one or another, all in an effort to prove Camila’s claim.

From the moment I left the tour and walked back to my hotel—my eyes now truly open—I could feel the power fruit held in Colombian life. On every corner, fruit was being sold. On every street, someone—child or adult—held a cup of fruit chunks. Carts overflowing with fruit rolled by constantly. That first day, I tried lulo in the morning and maracuyá in the afternoon. At Plaza de las Nieves, I came face to face with Colombia itself: farmers selling their harvests, locals shopping for their homes. It was a rich source of Colombian identity, a feast of insight for a traveler like me, eager to discover the real Colombia.

The next day brought feijoa and gulupa. It became a week of exploration and no repeats—a week of understanding why Colombia truly is the queen of fruit. And if that’s true, then Bogotá must be the fruit capital of the world. I thought I had tasted it all in my travels, thought I had a favorite fruit—until I met the one that tasted like vanilla ice cream: my new love, chirimoya. I was amazed to see lulo growing on street corners throughout this city of ten million. It wasn’t just brought in from the countryside, as happens in most big cities—it grew here, wild and unclaimed, waiting to be discovered by distracted locals or curious travelers like me.

I fell in love with the idea—and the reality—that in this great and unique city of fruit, I could enjoy a different one every day without ever repeating.