The stunning turquoise lake that defines Guatapé tourism doesn't look man-made. But it is. And beneath its surface lies a story of displacement, loss, and the complicated bargain between progress and community that Colombia made in the 1970s.
The Reservoir: An Engineering Project, Not Nature
What visitors call "the lake" is actually the Embalse Peñol-Guatapé — a hydroelectric reservoir created by the state energy company EPM (Empresas Públicas de Medellín) between 1970 and 1978. The project dammed the Nare River and its tributaries, creating a body of water covering approximately 74 square kilometers with a maximum depth of around 50 meters.
The reservoir powers the Guatapé hydroelectric complex, which generates roughly 560 MW — a significant portion of Colombia's electricity. When you look out from the summit of La Piedra at that seemingly pristine lake dotted with forested islands, you're looking at one of the largest infrastructure projects in Colombian history.
Old El Peñol: The Town That Drowned
The original town of El Peñol sat in the valley that is now the reservoir's basin. Founded in 1714, it was a farming community of several thousand people with a central plaza, a church, homes, roads, and cemeteries — a complete town that had existed for over 250 years.
When EPM announced the reservoir project, the town had to go. Between 1978 and 1979, residents were relocated to a new site — the present-day town of El Peñol, built on higher ground overlooking the reservoir. The old town was systematically demolished and then submerged as the valley filled with water.
During periods of low water levels — typically in dry seasons or drought years — remnants of the old town occasionally become visible. Foundations, cobblestone streets, and the outline of the church have been photographed emerging from the receding waterline. It's an eerie sight: a ghost town appearing and disappearing with the reservoir's water level.
Guatapé's Partial Flooding
Guatapé itself was not entirely submerged, but the reservoir did flood a significant portion of its original territory — particularly low-lying farmland along the river. The town's waterfront, which now attracts tourists with its malecón and boat operators, sits on what was once the edge of the flooding zone. The town adapted: what was lost in farmland was gradually replaced by tourism infrastructure.
The Human Cost
The displacement wasn't voluntary. Farming families lost land that had been in their families for generations. Compensation was provided by EPM, but accounts from the period suggest it was often below market value, and the bureaucratic process was difficult for rural farmers to navigate. Some families received land in the new El Peñol; others received cash payments and scattered to other parts of Antioquia.
The new El Peñol was purpose-built and functional but lacked the organic character of the 260-year-old town it replaced. Older residents have described the loss not just of property but of community — the social fabric of a town where everyone knew each other, where the church bell marked the hours, where family plots in the cemetery connected generations.
The Replica Plaza
In the relocated El Peñol, a replica of the old town's central plaza was built as a memorial. It includes a recreation of the original church facade and plaza layout. It's a touching gesture, though visiting it carries a strange weight — a copy of something destroyed to create the very lake that now draws tourists.
The Territorial Dispute
La Piedra del Peñol sits on the boundary between the municipalities of Guatapé and El Peñol. Both towns claim it. The famous unfinished "G" painted on the rock's face — a Guatapé resident began painting "GUATAPÉ" before being stopped — is the most visible artifact of this ongoing dispute. The rock is officially called "Piedra del Peñol" on government maps, but tourism operators in Guatapé market it as "La Piedra de Guatapé." The rivalry is good-natured now, but it has deep roots in the disruption caused by the reservoir project.
Visiting with Context
None of this history diminishes the beauty of the reservoir or the joy of visiting Guatapé. But knowing what lies beneath the turquoise surface adds a layer of meaning to the experience. When you're on a boat cruising past green islands, you're floating above fields, roads, and foundations of a town where people lived for centuries.
If the history interests you, the Museo Histórico in the new El Peñol has photographs, documents, and personal artifacts from the old town. It's small but powerful, and rarely visited by tourists — most never leave Guatapé or La Piedra. The museum is a 10-minute tuk-tuk ride from Guatapé.