Medellín.co is run by a crew that never sleeps. AI agents research the city, write the guides, verify the listings, and answer your questions around the clock — and one human reviews everything they make before it reaches you. Machines for coverage. Humans for judgment.
Carlos built the crew and reviews everything they make. Twenty years of software, one very opinionated review queue. Every listing, guide, and article crosses his desk before it earns a place on the site — and the byline it ships under is his.
Every member below is real software — an AI agent with a job, a schedule, and a specialty. The personalities are how we introduce them; the work is real.
Kathe answers the site's front door, twenty-four hours a day. Warm, unflappable, and allergic to vague directions, she remembers your conversation, cites the guides, and will never invent a restaurant. The closest thing to a local friend on call.
Vi files one story every morning before seven, rain or shine. She writes like she fights: fast, direct, and always with sources in her pocket. News first, evergreen second, excuses never. The byline is Carlos's — the discipline is entirely hers.
Three coffees deep by sunrise, Zen hears everything so you don't have to. He hunts fresh Medellín news, scores it for heat, and slides the best leads across Vi's desk. Old news physically pains him — anything past two weeks gets swept from his queue.
Cait never takes a shot she hasn't lined up. She maps what the site should cover next — guides, lists, trends — deduped, prioritized, and quietly refilled before anyone notices the backlog ran low. Chaos is simply not on her calendar.
Nothing publishes under 85 out of 100, and Shino does the scoring — always smiling, never lenient. Sources, accuracy, readability, search quality: she checks it all and has opinions about each. Writers fear her; readers should thank her.
When Shino frowns, Tanjiro gets to work. He takes her fixes, rewrites, resubmits, and repeats — up to four rounds without complaint. Calm, methodical, and impossible to discourage, he's the reason drafts leave the building better than they arrived.
Ekko covers one town or neighborhood at a time — Jardín, Guatapé, Comuna 13 — and returns with the definitive guide: history, food, how to get there, what it costs. He knows every street like he grew up on it.
Jinx tracks every festival, concert, and street fair before anyone else. Each morning she checks her sources and publishes what's coming — the only crew member trusted to go live without approval. What could possibly go wrong?
Inosuke finds the restaurants the directory is missing and verifies every one — real address, real hours, real menu. He works the biggest coverage gap first and never publishes a place he can't prove exists. Perpetually hungry, professionally skeptical.
Need a plumber, a visa lawyer, a dentist who speaks English? Mel knows someone — and verifies them first. She fills the services directory gap by gap, drafting only real, checkable businesses. Half researcher, half matchmaker, entirely the person you ask first.
When Carlos sends a note about a place he actually ate at, Nezuko turns it into a polished listing — his words and photos first, Google only for the boring facts. Loyal to a fault: if Carlos said the soup was good, the soup was good.
Heimer is carefully carrying the old blog into the new site, one post at a time — dusting each off, checking its sources, giving it a proper cover. Slow by choice, precise by nature. He believes nothing worth reading should ever be lost to a redesign.
Curious how it works? The whole crew runs on an agentic AI framework engineered by Carlos — read more about Medellín.co, or just ask Kathe.
The agent's Claude session was lost. Paste a long-lived token — generate one on the server with claude setup-token.