Calle del Embudo in La Candelaria: Bogotá, Colombia’s Street of Murals and History
- Mark Vogel
- Aug 29
- 5 min read
Bogotá, Colombia ✈
When I planned my time in Bogotá, Colombia I knew I wanted to explore La Candelaria, the historic district at the heart of the city. Within this neighborhood lies a narrow cobblestone street that has become one of the most photographed and talked-about areas in Bogotá: Calle del Embudo. The name translates directly to “Funnel Street,” a reference to the way the street narrows as it descends. That funnel-like shape is both a literal description and an entry point into a place where history, art, and modern culture converge.
I walked down this street on a cloudy afternoon, the sky shifting between gray and blue patches, which only made the colors painted on the walls seem sharper. The first thing I noticed was how uneven the stones beneath my feet were. This is not a polished tourist promenade but a centuries-old pathway that has been walked by generations. The stonework shows its age, and puddles collect in the cracks after rainfall, but that’s part of the authenticity. La Candelaria is the oldest district in Bogotá, and Calle del Embudo has long been one of its arteries. Centuries ago, it connected parts of the colonial city and served as a passage for merchants and locals. Today, it connects visitors with Bogotá’s artistic identity.
“By the time I left, I had taken dozens of photos, each capturing a different corner, a different mural, a different detail. But no single photo or description can fully explain what it feels like to walk the street in person.”
Every direction I looked, there was another mural. Some of them span entire walls, while others are tucked between windows or framed around doorways. These aren’t random pieces of graffiti. They are carefully designed works of art that often carry messages about identity, politics, and local life. In one of the photos I took, a mural depicts an indigenous man wearing a traditional feather headdress. His expression is calm but direct, as if he is confronting the viewer with the weight of his people’s history. Around him are painted leaves and natural elements, a reminder of Colombia’s ties to land and tradition. This is more than decoration—it’s social commentary, and it reflects the way street art in Bogotá has become a voice for groups that were historically silenced.
Further down, I came across a mural of a woman painted against a deep purple background. Her face is realistic and striking, framed by leaves and coffee cherries, which are the fruits that hold the coffee beans. Coffee is one of Colombia’s most recognizable exports, and it is no accident that an artist chose to place it alongside a portrait of a Colombian woman. The blending of agricultural symbols with human features suggests how intertwined identity is with the land itself.
Another wall featured a mural of an older woman, her hair decorated with yellow flowers. Her face is detailed, lined with age, and it conveys strength. The wall around her is bright yellow, with patterns of corn painted alongside her. Corn has been central to indigenous cultures in Colombia for centuries, and the pairing of her portrait with the crop speaks to survival and continuity. This mural was signed by Carlos Trilleras, one of many artists who contribute to the ongoing gallery that Calle del Embudo has become. Each wall here is a canvas, and each canvas speaks to something about Colombia’s past and present.
Not all of the art is about portraits. One building I photographed has a mural that looks like a collage of life in the countryside. A man sits by a fountain, chickens walk nearby, and a girl carries a jug of water. The painting has faded over time, and graffiti tags have been added, but the main images still shine through. Locals sit outside the building at red stools, drinking and talking beneath the painting. The line between art and daily life is thin here. What is on the walls is not hidden behind frames in a gallery but part of the street itself, seen by anyone walking past.
The atmosphere of Calle del Embudo is shaped as much by its walls as by the people moving through it. On the day I visited, groups of young people walked down, some clearly tourists with cameras in hand, others locals going about their day. Cafés and bars line the street, their signs small but inviting. The smell of coffee mixes with the sound of music from inside the shops. Overhead, strings of lights crisscross the alley, making it just as lively at night as it is in the afternoon.
The street is not wide enough for cars, so it feels like a pedestrian passageway, a place that belongs to people and not vehicles. Its narrowness is part of its name. The “funnel” isn’t only about the way the street narrows in shape but also about how it draws people in, compressing them together in a single shared space. Whether you come to photograph the murals, stop for a beer at Chorro de Quevedo nearby, or simply walk through on your way elsewhere in La Candelaria, the street pulls you in.
Historically, Calle del Embudo leads to Plaza del Chorro de Quevedo, a small square where Bogotá is believed to have been founded in 1538. That makes this street more than a decorated alley; it is a path tied to the very origins of the city. Over centuries, it shifted from a practical route to a cultural artery, now carrying the weight of Bogotá’s artistic and social expression. In recent decades, artists have transformed it into an open-air gallery. While other cities might restrict street painting, Bogotá has embraced it, and this street is perhaps the best example of that decision.
As I walked up and down, I noticed how the murals interact with each other. A geometric painting of bright squares in pink, blue, green, and yellow sits across from detailed portraits. One side feels modern, abstract, and playful, while the other feels rooted in tradition and identity. Together, they reflect the mix that defines Bogotá: a city that is both historic and contemporary, both local and global. Even the wear of the cobblestones adds to this duality. They are old stones, but they carry new art.
Looking back at my photos, I see how much detail I might have missed in the moment. The cracked plaster, the tangled electrical wires overhead, the small flower decorations strung between buildings, the Colombian flag draped from a doorway—all of these are part of the street’s character. Calle del Embudo is not curated in the way a museum is curated. It is constantly changing. New murals are painted, old ones fade, and graffiti tags appear. The street evolves with the people who pass through it.
For me, visiting Calle del Embudo was not just about seeing colorful walls. It was about standing in a place where Bogotá’s history meets its present. The cobblestones remind you that this street has existed for centuries, while the murals remind you that the city continues to speak and reinvent itself. The translation of its name, Funnel Street, seems fitting because once you step in, you are funneled through history, culture, and art in a single walk.
By the time I left, I had taken dozens of photos, each capturing a different corner, a different mural, a different detail. But no single photo or description can fully explain what it feels like to walk the street in person. You hear footsteps echoing off the stones, see locals chatting under the murals, and feel the slope of the narrow passage guiding you forward. Calle del Embudo is not only a place to visit in Bogotá—it is a place to experience.
