Based on the recent data, there has been a significant increase in crimes against tourists in Medellin.

The plate they brought out looked like something designed by a deranged carnival cook on a grease-fueled bender: a mutant slab of deep-fried pork fat the size of a small child's torso, floating atop a sea of fried rice like some kind of twisted culinary iceberg.

The economic transformation is as radical as the visual one. Tourist dollars have replaced drug money. Walking tours now cost more than what a hitman would have charged during Escobar's era. Local guides — many of whom lost family members to violence — now make a living telling the story of their own resurrection.

Comuna 13 wasn't just a neighborhood. It was a war zone disguised as a community, a vertical slum clinging to the mountainside like a desperate prayer.

Colombia: A Journey Through Paradise and Perdition, Exploring the Dark Underbelly of Colombia's Transformation

The next day's photo shoot was a masterclass in amateur hour. Isabella showed up at the hotel looking like she'd navigated through the Amazon rather than walking five blocks down a city street. My camera work was about as steady as a junkie's hands at midnight, and exposure settings looked like they were chosen by a blindfolded monkey throwing darts at a light meter.