Mingling with Colombia's killers

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

'You know, I'm a paraco now.'

That's what a 25-year-old acquaintance, let's call him Juan — not his real name — told me when I was reunited with him in March of this year in Santandercito, the barrio in the far north of Bogotá in which I normally reside whenever I'm in Colombia's capital.

AGC presente: Autodefensas Gaitanistas de Colombia, aka Clan del Golfo, is Colombia's largest paramilitary group. 

Pawn of the paracos

Juan offered this information to me after I told him that I'd just spent the last few months in San Martín, Meta, an area said to be largely controlled by paracos.

These paracos, Colombia's paramilitaries, originally came into being in the 1960s as a counterpoint to the guerrillas. Both groups can trace their origins to left versus right political ideologies, nominally at least, but today they're all just effectively gangland criminals vying to control the cocaine trade and other illegal activities.

Just over eight weeks after Juan — whom I'd known since 2016 when he was a happy-go-lucky teenager — told me of his employment, he was shot dead. It was a planned hit. Loved ones left behind include an inconsolable mother, a shattered stepfather, and heartbroken brothers, people with whom I have shared many enjoyable moments in Santandercito over the last ten years.

Neither Juan's telling me that he was a paraco nor his tragic demise surprised me much, however.

I'd suspected for the last few years that he was involved in dodgy dealings of some sort.

In fact, he and another young man and friend-of-sorts of mine from the barrio, a guy I'll call José — again, not his real name — were sent away for a few months to a paraco training camp in the Antioquia department some time back. So the story goes. I did ask both of them, separately, to divulge a little more information about this camp, but it was never forthcoming. Although José didn't completely rule out doing so. I stopped asking after a while, though.

'A paraco he may have been, but he was no more than a pawn for greater powers. He was certainly no capo dei capi, that much is now clear.'

On their return to Barrio Santandercito, I noticed Juan's behaviour change. A harder, meaner edge came to replace the cheerfulness he had previously displayed in abundance. José, in contrast, has remained largely easygoing. He is that way towards me anyway.

Juan began to give off an air of invincibility. The way he strutted around the barrio was as if he thought he were a feared mafia boss. Now, a paraco he may have been, but he was no more than a pawn for greater powers. He was certainly no capo dei capi, that much is now clear.

In a journal entry the day after Juan told me of his paraco status, I noted that ill winds could soon be blowing his way, owing to his cocky behaviour. Only those truly in control could get away with such posturing. But even the bigwigs are brought back down to size at some stage.

Those ill winds did blow Juan's way. And with fatal force.

José was with Juan on the night he was shot dead, Friday 29 May, on a footpath on Calle 188 with Carrera 16, in the Verbenal barrio of Bogotá, just a few blocks away from Santandercito. José wasn't harmed, not physically anyway.

Mowing down Mauricio

On the day of Juan's burial, I was told by a somewhat reliable source in Santandercito that both Juan and José were the ones sent to kill another acquaintance of mine in this part of Bogotá, the affable Mauricio, a man who ran a number of tienda bars in Verbenal. Mauricio was murdered in April 2025.

His crime, so it goes, was to sell cocaine, which he got from his own sources. That is to say, he didn't get his white powder from the gang that is said to control the underworld in the greater Verbenal area.

My Santandercito source told me that Juan, recognised as a talented motorbike operator, rode the bike used to take José to Mauricio. José, as the better marksman, fired the weapon. That's the conjecture doing the rounds in the barrio. We'll probably never know for sure. And it's something I'm not too keen to ask José about, not directly anyway.

The cost of crime

Over the last few years, I had heard that José regularly got on the wrong side of some of his superiors. At one stage, he was apparently forbidden from entering Santandercito. If somebody had said to me two years ago that just one of either Juan or José would be soon gunned down, I would have thought that José would face that fate. Although, as I mentioned, Juan's behaviour in recent months would have led me to change my thinking.

Seeing as how José was with Juan on the night of his murder, in a location seen as close to ideal to carry out such a hit, there is speculation that José had some part to play in it. That he sold out his partner in crime to protect himself. Again, it's all hearsay.

The chances of us ever finding out exactly what happened on the night Juan was gunned down are slim.

It's unlikely there'll be any thorough investigation carried out. The general approach by Colombia's authorities when it comes to gangland murders is that as long as they're killing each other, then it's not a major concern. That's how it appears, anyway. 'Let them knock themselves out.'

The old adage that crime doesn't pay was certainly the case for Juan. The ones who do make big bucks out of criminality in Colombia tend not to get their hands bloodied and are fairly well protected. The paraco pawns, on the other hand, are very much dispensable.
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La Chorrera in Colombia's Amazon: Bloody past, insecure present

@wwaycorrigan

[For an audio/vlog version of this story, click here.]

There is a view in certain circles that Indigenous peoples in isolated areas live a largely wholesome and simple life, at one with nature, in stark contrast to us folk in more digitally connected, fast-paced societies — a version of the noble savage idea.

Isolated reserve: There are no roads into La Chorrera but the airline Satena flies there. Arriving by river is also an option, but a complicated one.

This is true in some instances and areas. There are still tribes in existence that continue to shun Western civilisation.

Yet, many indigenous, even those who still live on their native lands far away from the original centres of colonisation of the country in which they now find themselves, have adopted high-income-nation habits — be that for better or for worse.

This is the case for most of those who identify as indigenous that I've encountered in South America.

One might think that the situation would be rather different on a secluded indigenous reserve, an area where the original natives — Who is an original native? — are left to live relatively autonomously from the intruding state.

Green gold

Both the settlement and area of La Chorrera, which the locals call the true heart of the Amazon, is one such reserve.

In terms of its autonomy from Colombia, well there is no state police presence. Filling that void, nominally in any case, is the indigenous guard. The Colombian military does have a base nearby but the soldiers rarely get involved in local affairs even if, at times, their intervention might be welcome.

The people have their own executive committee for internal affairs, with a president, vice president, and certain ministerial/secretarial posts.

As for agricultural self-sufficiency, the Igara Paraná River that flows through the region provides fish, as well as a plentiful supply of water. Most homesteads also have their own poultry, the odd few farm pigs while the ever-retreating wild animals in the surrounding jungle are occasionally hunted, with el blanco (whiteman) guns, of course.

'An elder told me that a commander in a nearby guerrilla group is planning a social cleansing of the area and has a list of those who are considered a burden.'

Root vegetables such as cassava (yuca) and yam (ñame) are staples, alongside plantain and a host of tropical fruits.

The tobacco plant, too, plays a big part in the culture, chiefly in the form of a paste called ambil, almost exclusively taken by men.

Ambil is often consumed alongside the region's green gold, or what some in other parts of Colombia convert into white gold, the coca leaf.

In La Chorrera, coca is ground down — together with a palm tree leaf to soften the bitterness — to a fine powder and consumed in the mouth. The idea is to slowly transform the powder — which has a powdered-milk texture — into a paste in the mouth before ingesting it gradually. This pick-me-upper coca powder is called mambe and its consumption is again a male preserve.

Coca leaves that aren't destined for mambe are sold, currently at 100,000 COP per kilo, to outsiders who, one assumes, use them to make cocaine.

From what I observed and what I was told, cocaine isn't at all popular in the area.

Beer necessities

Yet, what I've been told is growing in popularity — but not grown locally — is marijuana use among the community's younger folk. Elders say this has led to an increase in insecurity.

I did occasionally smell it and noticed some young men a little stoned but I can't say that I felt that unsafe in the settlement, despite warnings from some to keep my wits about me when wandering about. (This is in stark contrast to supposedly dangerous, more easily accessible towns such as Puerto Asís and San José del Guaviare, where inhabitants are quick to talk about how safe they are. Yes, people there could have been trying to lure me into a false sense of security but I never sensed anything untoward — and nothing untoward happened.)

Home comforts: One of the over 100 houses the Colombian government is building and gifting to La Chorrera.

One La Chorrera elder even told me that a commander in a nearby guerrilla group is planning a social cleansing of the area and already has a list of those who are considered a burden. How true that is, I guess time will tell.

The main annoyance I encountered was those who like a beer or six — beer being another product very much not of the region. Some boozers weren't shy about asking — in an aggressive tone at times — el blanco to finance their drinking. (At between 5,000 and 8,000 COP for a 330 ml can of Poker, it's around four times more than what I pay for beer in my preferred watering holes in Bogotá.)

The various winged pests of this jungle outpost were less of a nuisance than these opportunist extortionists.

I had thought that being Irish and, with it, the link to Roger Casement and his efforts in alerting Western powers of the terrible rubber-era genocide of the Indigenous that took place in the region in the early twentieth century might have cut me some slack — I'm not just another blanco. But no. In fairness, most did start referring to me somewhat more affectionately as el irlandés once they got to know me. It's the Peruvians and the British establishment these beer-seekers should be pestering, not me. (See my 2016 post, Remembering Casement's Colombian connection for background.)

'The chuck-it-anywhere approach goes against the narrative that care and respect for the natural environment is one of their chief concerns.'

Now, while I wasn't there long enough to draw any solid conclusions, it did appear to me that it was the men from the more square-faced Uitoto (or Huitoto) tribe who were the annoying drinkers while the rounder-faced Boras seemed far more benign. More research is required. (For the record, the greater La Chorrera area is composed, in the main, of four traditional tribes: the aforementioned Bora and Uitoto, together with the Muinane and Okaina.)

Virtual autonomy

Mentioning tribes might bring one back to this idea of scantily clad Amazon natives. The reserve may like to see and even sell itself as autonomous but the clothing — like the beer, many food items, internet plus free WiFi from the national government, smartphones, televisions, motorbikes, and even the timber for new state-gifted houses — very much comes from outside. Football shirts are particularly popular for the men, as is football in general for all. Indeed, football brings the community together more regularly than any traditional event.

Even at a traditional dance that I had the serendipitous pleasure of attending in the Santa Rosa settlement, a four-hour boat ride upriver from La Chorrera, there was nothing native about the attire. For sure, the dance and refreshments were traditional but the look was more Bogotá barrio than Amazon jungle.

Considering the dance came at the end of a two-day football tournament, let's not be too critical of the lack of effort on the dress front. And respect to the attendees from Puerto Sabalo in the Caquetá department. Theirs was a two-day journey, mixing boat travel with long walks. Despite such endeavours, or perhaps because of them, they won the men's tournament.

Less respect is forthcoming for many locals' rubbish disposal. The chuck-it-anywhere approach goes against the narrative that care and respect for the natural environment is one of their chief concerns. The same goes for the practice of bathing and cleaning clothes in the river with modern soaps and detergents.

This isn't me having a go at them. I'm in no way suggesting that they must return to a more primitive life. (Although this is something I often think I'd like to do, I don't think there are many in La Chorrera who want it.)

It's more a case that it bugs me when some people from afar put such indigenous types on a pedestal, as role models for us modern monsters to follow. Also at play is the mildly aggressive this-is-our-land attitude of a small number of La Chorrera natives.

As pointed out, it's not a truly autonomous indigenous reserve. The sane-headed locals are well aware of this and are very welcoming of unobtrusive visitors. And, as it currently operates, it's unlikely La Chorrera will survive as a functioning entity without attracting the right kind of outside assistance.

Those who want all the whiteman goodies but then act as if outsiders aren't welcome or are merely to be taken advantage of, let's see how they'd do living completely autonomously.

Remember guys, you won't be able to beer or Google your way out of it.

*There are various accommodation options in La Chorrera. Hospedaje Fátima, owned by a lovely elder — abuela as they say — of the same name (Fátima, that is!), is one of the better options. It's 25,000 COP per night for a humble en suite room with WiFi as good as you'll get anywhere. Plus, Fátima is niceness personified!

**A special mention, too, to Marina and her mother Irene who operate as a restaurant/snack food joint. Well worth checking out. Also, Jorge who runs the tienda by the main dock is a very helpful gentleman and a member of the executive committee. I mention these because they run businesses in the settlement but there are other friendly locals who are only too willing to help for no ulterior motive.
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The calm of La Palma (when music's not blaring, that is!)

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

It's not exactly a case of hit-and-miss for me when it comes to visiting random Colombian pueblos. 

When an escape from Bogotá's badness and madness is needed, pretty much any town will suffice. It is the getting away that matters more so; the destination is largely of secondary importance.

Pretty La Palma: An impressive setting but it has lots of competition in this regard.

Some towns, though, naturally enough, have more going for them than others. Of course, that 'going for them' is subjective. My likes are another's dislikes (and it seems, shockingly enough, that my likes are far from universally shared).

The long and winding road

Regardless of a visitor's preferences, however, La Palma, in the north-west of Colombia's Cundinamarca department, is unlikely to get top marks in any category.

Yes, its setting is impressive. But the same can be said for pretty much any Andean town. Ditto for its friendly-but-not-overbearingly-so locals.

That it's not quite a popular tourist spot is, as far as I'm concerned, more a positive than a negative. Yet, with that, there's the what's-there-to-do question. OK, I like wandering around hilly terrain, but La Palma has plenty of better-organised competition in this regard.

The journey getting there does see one pass through some rather spectacular Andean scenery as the way winds alongside the fast-flowing Río Negro at various intervals.

However, after Pacho, large tracts of the road resemble conditions akin to what the Spanish must have had to deal with when on their initial rampage in these parts. 

In contrast, for example, on the equally aesthetically pleasing and winding route to San Luis de Gaceno, 26 kilometres further away from Bogotá than La Palma (in another direction that is), the road is more 20th century than 15th century.

The result is that having safely arrived in La Palma, one really needs at least 48 hours there before facing into the return journey. Perhaps the locals want it that way.

'Years ago, it probably was a no-go area for visitors but, like many places in Colombia, today it seems safe.'

Tucked away at an altitude of just under 1,500 metres above sea level and surrounded by many forested hills, the town's mid-20s (degrees Celsius) temperature average is more than agreeable. It makes the thunderous downpours of this time of year more tolerable compared to a chillier, duller Bogotá.

As is the case with many similar-sized towns in Colombia, there are various hotel options. I threw in my lot with Hotel Ruby, just off the main square. 

While there are "fancier" options, when one just needs a comfortable bed with toilet facilities in a relatively clean environment and, of course, steady Wi-Fi, Ruby does the job. At 20,000 pesos per night, it's also far from extortionate.

A day rambling the usually quiet roads around La Palma.

However, what is a little — just a little — more expensive in La Palma compared to my basic Bogotá barrio is socialising. This is because this side of Cundinamarca — it's the same in nearby El Peñón — is averse to 750 ml/litre bottles of beer.

Thus, one gets less pop for one's peso, so to put it i.e. 2,500 pesos for 330 ml of Poker in La Palma versus 4,000 pesos for a litre in my Bogotá local. It does encourage one to drink less all the same, so it has its plus side.

Also lacking, considering the town's size — easily twice as big as San Luis de Gaceno and a good bit bigger than El Peñón — are a few standard, traditional tiendas. 

By traditional, I refer to what some may consider tacky. This is "tacky" in terms of tables and chairs anyway — those Aguila- or Poker-labelled plastic ones supplied by Colombia's beer beast, Bavaria.

Something in the air

Balancing out this beer bleakness, it has the odd establishment that actually offers decent coffee. This is quite the positive in light of the fact that in many non-touristy Colombian towns getting an unsweetened, strong brew is practically impossible.

One, somewhat strange commonality La Palma has with other places at a similar altitude is that it occasionally has a certain whiff in the air. It reminds me of a globally popular Colombian product, beginning with the letter 'c'. No, not coffee, the other one.

I must add, I did not see it nor did I get any hint that the locals consume it. I'm solely referring to that distinct, petrol-like smell of the substance in its refined form. And I don't think it was simply petrol that I smelt.

Now, my Bogotá friends did tell me that La Palma was 'caliente', 'hot'. They weren't, though, referring to the weather. By this 'caliente' they meant it was a conflict zone. I got no real hint of that. 

Years ago, it probably was a no-go area for visitors but, like many places in the country, today it seems safe. One is unlikely to find trouble unless one looks for it.

My biggest bugbear was the loud music blaring out of a couple of bars on the main square well into the early hours on my first night there, a Friday. The thin walls and open-court layout of Hotel Ruby offer scant sound insulation.

This particular racket might have been for a special occasion, as it wasn't as much of an issue on the subsequent nights. And going by the overall vibe, I'm sure things are rather tranquil midweek.

I won't, however, be in any mad rush back to see if that is actually the case. This isn't to say that I didn't like my stay there. On the contrary, I enjoyed it.

It's just that, from Bogotá, there are easier country towns to get to. It's far from a rule that the more taxing the journey is in inverse proportion to the quality of the destination.
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'We can do better on visas for Colombians' — Irish Deputy Prime Minister Leo Varadkar

@wwaycorrigan

Ireland's Deputy Prime Minister (Tánaiste), Leo Varadkar, has said he wants to make the visa process easier for Colombians who want to study and work in the country.

Leo Varadkar at the Irish ambassador's residence in Bogotá, with Colombia's Vice President Marta Lucía Ramírez (top left).

Speaking at a St Patrick's Day reception at the Irish ambassador's residence in Bogotá, the Tánaiste stated that he would 'love to see more Colombian students coming to Ireland to study in our universities, to learn English, to work if they want to.'

However, he acknowledged that the current visa regulations are rather restrictive for Colombians compared to those from other South American countries such as Argentina and Brazil.

Following the signing of a Memorandum of Understanding with Colombia's Ministry for Education aimed at greater collaboration in higher education, Varadkar admitted that Ireland 'can do better' on visas but it is something he intends to address. 'Colombians need a visa to come to Ireland, (they) have to pay for that visa, that's not the case from a lot of other countries in Latin America, so that's something I'll try and improve or change and I've been in contact with Minister McEntee (Ireland's Minister for Justice) about that already.'

The Tánaiste, who also serves as Ireland's Minister for Enterprise, Trade and Employment, said that while trade between the two countries is small, 'there is scope for expansion'.

Deputy Prime Minister Varadkar officially opened Ireland's embassy in Bogotá this week, an office that began operating in 2019, the same year that Colombia opened an embassy in Dublin.

Before visiting Colombia, Varadkar was in Chile where Ireland also has a new embassy. During his stay in Santiago, he attended the inauguration of the country's new president, the leftist Gabriel Boric. 'Potentially, he represents a new generation of left-wing leaders in South America. Even though he comes from the student protests, the radical left, he has been very clear on Venezuela and Nicaragua. To a certain extent that gives me some encouragement,' Varadkar said of the Chilean president.

Click on the following link, https://youtu.be/3XgauTqKJOw (or see video below), to listen to the full interview with Leo Varadkar where he also speaks about Russia's war in Ukraine and the cocaine trade.

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Bogotá's cocaine barrios

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

A common complaint you'll hear from Colombians when the C-bomb gets dropped in their company is that the biggest, most problematic issue at play is the drug's use by foreigners in developed nations.

Sin city?

Figures on cocaine consumption across the globe support this stance. What's more, from the perspective of those producing the "white gold" here in Colombia, ensuring it remains popular in the richer countries is vitally important for revenues. In financial terms, the local market is very minor in comparison.

Snow comforts

Nonetheless, there is a home demand. From my own observations, it's certainly not insignificant, although it seems more prevalent in neighbourhoods of a lower socio-economic standing. By all accounts, in high-income nations, the opposite is the case.

You might counter that I'm generalising when I say cocaine use is relatively commonplace across Bogotá's working- to lower-class barrios, that I shouldn't assume that what happens in one sector is replicated in another. It's a fair point. Yet, I've socialised in various parts of the city to know that it's certainly not just limited to one particular area.

In what I imagine is similar to the rest of the world where cocaine is popular, it's men under 50 who appear to be the chief consumers. For Colombia, unsurprisingly, availability and price are big factors in this popularity.

'There's a belief — not without foundation — that Colombia's "best" cocaine is sent for export. It's difficult to know if this is good or bad for the local consumer.'

For example, as a very rough guide, products in Ireland are generally four times more expensive than Colombia. Yet, one can purchase a gram or so of cocaine in Bogotá for the equivalent of 2.50 euros. I'm pretty sure you can't get the same amount in Ireland for ten euros. Try, so my research tells me, about eight times that.

Easy money

Now, the majority of those I know here who are occasional consumers are not what I would class as addicts. It appears to be a weekend indulgence solely.

What's more, it's not like nieve — snow, for the uninitiated — is the first thing on their minds. No, it's usually the world's most popular gateway drug, alcohol, first. Then comes the cocaine. A global trend really.

One could also question the purity of what Colombians are sold.

Like the country's coffee, there's a belief — not without foundation — that the "best" cocaine is sent for export. It's difficult to know if this is good or bad for the consumer. Less pure may mean less addictive and less harmful. However, it could also mean the complete opposite.

Another striking feature of the cocaine business I've observed is the involvement of adolescents. Lads who should be at school are instead low-intensity dealers. The thing is, they've no classes to go to right now as schools have been closed since March due to the pandemic.

OK, considering the profit margins — they can double their money on each unit sold — they probably deal around the college gates in normal times anyway.

With all that in mind, in my early days in this country, echoing a call from then Colombian President Juan Manuel Santos, I wrote about the need to seriously debate the legalisation of the cocaine trade. Alas, in most of the richer nations where consumption is high, such a proposal doesn't appear to have been given any proper consideration.

Thus, we continue with prohibition across much of the world which, it can be said, does more harm than good on a number of levels. No surprises there. As a society, we're adept at applying the wrong solutions to our problems.

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Colombia's comedown?

For the last 12 months or so Colombia seemed to be on the crest of a wave somewhat. This was mostly down to the implementation of the peace deal signed between the government and the country's largest rebel group, Farc.

Heady times, albeit superficially and in just some areas. The bounce Colombia got internationally was apparent in numerous foreign media reports naming it as one of the must-see places in 2017. 

Add to this President Juan Manuel Santos' scooping of the Nobel Peace Prize and the grounds for optimism were clearly there.

However, considering Colombians can be as cynical as the best of them (amongst themselves that is, not normally to outsiders) coupled with a belief in many quarters that the Farc peace accords change very little in practice, the optimism certainly appears to have waned. (It should get a small shot in the arm with Pope Francis's upcoming visit here in September.)

Bogotá and Colombia in general: A work progressing or regressing?

Indeed, for some, the place is getting worse. A well-to-do Scotsman who has called Colombia home for the last 27 years believes this to be the case. He says that for the first time in his almost three decades here, he feels things are regressing. That seems quite a statement bearing in mind that when he first came here Pablo Escobar was still wreaking havoc.

So why, at a time when Colombia seems as open and welcoming as it ever has been, the negativity? The following sheds some light on things:

Cocaine high

Cocaine. Its mere utterance gives most Colombians a sinking feeling; the scourge of the country for decades.

Of course, the substance is ingested just as much, if not more so, in North America, Europe and Australia as it is in these parts, but here is the source.

As long as the external demand and enormous profits to be made from it continue to exist, cocaine production won't slow down any time soon. In fact, the opposite has been the case of late, it has increased.

The money in the white powder offers a route to riches that legitimate Colombia can't come anywhere close to. Thus, it's mob rule where cocaine is king with officialdom either turning a blind eye or being implicated in it.

A not-so-well-oiled machine

In contrast to Venezuela, Colombia's oil revenue looks set to fall substantially in the coming decade.

Unsurprisingly, sources in the industry here say the government lacks any sort of plan for a not-too-distant future when the country will have to import the resource.

We'd expect Venezuela to have its house in more normal order in 10 years' time than it is now, so maintaining good relations with the oil-rich neighbour is key. Welcoming fleeing Venezuelans with open arms during this current crisis might just be the right strategy.

Short-term gain, long-term loss

As for the lack of planning in terms of resources, so it is for practically every other area, especially in the likes of education and infrastructure.

Unfathomable and often contradictory legislation enforced arbitrarily combined with rampant corruption mean progress is slow or there's none at all.

In such an environment there are few signs that the vast inequality is being reduced. This ensures continued envy and justification for crime from the have nots.

Reasons to be cheerful?

Notwithstanding the above, we're not running away from the place just yet. The fact that the country is in a state of flux, a tad chaotic if you will, both excites and frustrates many foreigners based here.

Plus, with La Selección (the men's national football team) on the verge of World Cup qualification, the powers that be can rest assured that the football-mad masses will forget all their daily strife, at least for a time.

And that's how things tend to roll here. Live for the moment, to heck thinking about the future.
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At home with the Escobars

He has the blood — indirectly at least — of thousands of people on his hands. His business interests arguably ruined the lives of millions of families across the globe. He once had a bounty of US$10,000,000 on his head and spent twelve years in a maximum security prison. 

Yet today, for little over €20, you can "relax", have a coffee and spend an evening with this man in his middle-class Medellín estate.

Roberto Escobar may not have been ‘at the muscle end of his family’ — to paraphrase a quote from The Godfather movie, a very appropriate one considering the subject — but there is no doubting the significant role he played in helping Colombia's Medellín Cartel become one of the most powerful criminal gangs in the world. 

While it was his brother, the infamous late Pablo that was ‘El Don’, Roberto was the vicious drug lord’s accountant, PR man and lieutenant. 

Those heady days may be behind him, but Roberto is happy to talk glowingly about them to anyone who feels comfortable enough to listen. And there are many willing to do just that. 

It is testament to the global reach of the Escobar Empire that a tour bearing Pablo’s name and officially sanctioned by the family itself is one of the biggest draws on the tourist scene in Medellín these days. 

For many it is a chance to step inside a surreal world that you only ever before got glimpses of through books, movies and the like. 

When you first see Roberto shuffling his way to welcome you to his home-cum-museum, those familiar with the Italian-American mafia drama The Sopranos will be instantly reminded of the character Junior Soprano. 

Resemblances aside, the fact that Roberto is half-blind and half-deaf following a letter-bomb hit two weeks after his brother’s death in 1993 means he moves just as slow as the elderly Soprano, but not without an air of authority. 

World's Most Wanted - Roberto Escobar & Wrong Way with Pablo's first mugshot.

The house — Pablo’s last residence before he was killed — is best described as a shrine to the man who terrorised the lives of thousands of Colombians in the 1980s and early 90s. 

From his bullet-proof, made-to-order Chevrolet jeep to the glamorous portrait of his prized show horse Terremoto de Manizales, you get an idea of the lifestyle Pablo ‘enjoyed’ as head of what was once the world’s biggest cocaine-exporting mob. 

Of course, you cannot run a proscribed group without having a residence equipped with hidden chambers — for both human and monetary purposes — and this dwelling doesn’t disappoint on that front. Alas, any hidden money is long gone. And just to keep things current, the bullet holes from a 2010 failed kidnapping attempt on Roberto and his son have been left in tact by the family. 

Interesting as all that is, the biggest draw of the tour has to be Roberto himself, the man who knows Pablo as good as anyone. The chance to chat one-to-one and have your photo taken with the right-hand man of one of the worlds most notorious criminals is quite an experience, whatever your moral viewpoint on the subject. 

Indeed, if you are a little uneasy about such a tour, we have been assured that profits are put into community projects in the poorer barrios of Medellín, ensuring the Robin Hood image Pablo liked to portray remains alive and well. 

Now, you might think Roberto — who first came into the public domain as one of Colombia’s best cyclists — would use such an opportunity to show some remorse for the many crimes directly linked to the Escobar family. Not so. 

In our questions-and-answers session, afforded to all visitors, he tells us that his family were as much victims of the drugs war as anyone else. That viewpoint might be a bit hard to swallow for some. 

It’s quite obvious from the way he talks that he still has the utmost respect for his brother. 

Yes, Pablo did some very positive work for many of Medellín’s impoverished, maybe more so than the Government ever could – but you can also say that Hitler vastly improved the lives of many Germans in the 1930s. 

Unsurprisingly, Roberto believes that all drugs should be made legal. Not a unique view that, but maybe a tad ironic considering that the legalisation of cocaine would possibly have been the single biggest measure to curb the rise of the Escobar empire. That’s a debate for another day.

As for the letter-bomb attack on him in prison shortly after Pablo’s death, Roberto believes it was the Government that carried it out. Indeed, he puts the administration of that time as bigger enemies than the Cali Cartel, their chief rivals in the drugs trade. 

What about the whereabouts of the unaccounted millions of dollars made during Pablo’s prime? That information is gone to the grave with him, of course. 

There was never going to be any other answer than that. But it does open the door for the next novelty tour, ‘Finding Pablo’s Millions’. Remember where you read it first.