What to pack for Colombia in January

16 rain days a month finds every seam. A real shell, not a windbreaker.

Water glare off coastal areas strains eyes. Polarized lenses cut the reflection.

Mosquitoes thrive in 80 percent humidity. DEET or picaridin stops bites before they start.

Remote terrain and altitude mean distance to help. A kit handles minor wounds on the trail.

Tap water isn't safe here. A filter bottle beats buying plastic twice a day.

Set it up before you land. Signal drops for long stretches outside cities.

National park access and remote hikes mean you carry your own gear. Thirty-five to forty-five liters fits overhead bins.

Fits the overhead on every airline that matters. Skip the checked-bag line entirely.

For the passport, the chargers, and the one dry pair of socks.

UV hits 7.2 here. Long sleeves beat reapplying sunscreen every hour.

Eleven hours of daylight means long exposure. A wide brim shields face and neck.

Treat the clothes once and it lasts weeks.

Tap water isn't safe. Oral salts treat dehydration if you get sick anyway.

One brick charges the laptop, phone, and camera.

Hotel and cafe wifi is shared with everyone else in the building. A VPN keeps your banking and email to yourself.

International border crossing ahead. A money belt keeps documents and cards separate from bags.

Humidity rots clothes in piles. Cubes keep damp items separate.

Fourteen rain days soak everything. Detergent lets you wash in the guesthouse instead of paying per load.

Lips crack and peel at altitude. SPF prevents both.

Contaminated water spreads through hands. Sanitizer kills what soap and water can't reach.

Sunburn and insect bites both itch. One product treats both without irritating raw skin.

One outlet serves the whole guesthouse. Short cables let you share charging.

A few phrases go a long way. Ten minutes a day before you leave is plenty.

Hostels and shared transport mean theft risk. TSA locks deter casual theft.