Last time I did this kind of budget breakdown, the dollar felt stronger, Colombia felt cheaper, and the internet was still very enthusiastic about telling people they could move abroad and live like royalty for the price of a Costco run.

Back then, one US dollar bought around 4,700 Colombian pesos.

Now, it buys roughly 3,660.

And that shift matters more than people think.

Because when you live abroad and earn in dollars, a currency move like that hits you in a very specific way: your life doesn’t change, but your math does. My apartment didn’t suddenly get bigger or smaller. My neighborhood didn’t become safer or less safe. My grocery store didn’t teleport. My internet didn’t get faster because the peso strengthened. But in dollar terms, the exact same life got more expensive.

That’s the part people love to skip when they make content about moving abroad.

They talk about the destination. They talk about the vibe. They talk about lifestyle arbitrage. They talk about “how cheap it is.” What they often don’t talk about is the reality that cheap is not a permanent trait. It’s a moving target. It depends on exchange rates, wage growth, inflation, local policy, and your own habits.

So instead of giving you a fantasy number, I want to give you something better: the truth.

Not backpacker math.
Not “well technically if you live in a tiny room and eat eggs forever” math.
Not “my cousin’s friend’s uncle did it for $700 in 2021” math.

Real math.

This is what it actually costs me to live in Bogotá in 2026, in both Colombian pesos and US dollars, living comfortably in a major Latin American capital—not scraping by, not pretending I’m 25, not sleeping on a mattress on the floor, and not calling survival mode “freedom.”

And once you see the full picture, the answer gets more interesting than just “yes” or “no.”

The numbers didn’t move by accident. Three major things changed, and they matter if you’re trying to understand Bogotá—or really any expat destination—honestly.

This is the big one.

Last time I did this, the exchange rate was around 4,700 pesos to the dollar. Today it’s closer to 3,660. That’s roughly a 10% swing, and if you earn in dollars and spend in pesos, you feel that instantly.

This is one of the least glamorous parts of living abroad, but one of the most important. People love the idea of earning in a strong currency and spending in a weaker one. And yes, that can absolutely improve your life. But currencies do not exist to make your relocation strategy feel emotionally validated. They move. Sometimes in your favor, sometimes not.

So even if Colombia had stayed exactly the same in local prices, it would still feel more expensive to a dollar earner today simply because the conversion changed.

That’s not Colombia “getting expensive.” That’s just the exchange-rate reality of international living.

Colombia also raised the minimum wage for 2026 by 23.7%, though parts of the legal and judicial situation around that remain in flux. Regardless of how the final policy mechanics settle, the broader point remains: labor costs rose, and when labor costs rise, that ripples everywhere.

It affects building administration fees.
It affects cleaning services.
It affects restaurants.
It affects barbers, nail salons, domestic help, and all the invisible systems that make daily life work.

A lot of people hear “minimum wage increase” and think only about salaries. But in Colombia, that number touches a lot more than just payroll. It flows into services, housing-related costs, and the general rhythm of the local economy.

In my own building, that shows up very directly. The rent line didn’t technically change, but the internal administration component did. That’s the part tied to staff, maintenance, services, and building operations. And to make it even more Colombian, the result is that I’m paying more while the building is also moving away from 24/7 physical security toward more automation.

So yes—more money, slightly less service.

Welcome to inflation, wage pressure, and the wonderfully non-theoretical world of actual daily life.

This part is on me.

I’ve been dieting, eating cleaner, cooking more, and losing weight. That’s great for my health. It is not automatically great for my grocery bill.

People sometimes assume “eating at home” always means cheaper. Usually it does. But when you start buying more protein, more fresh food, and better ingredients—especially if you’re doing something low-carb or more health-conscious—your food costs can go up even while your restaurant spending goes down.

So some of my categories rose because of exchange rates.
Some rose because of wage and service changes.
And some rose because I made better choices for my body.

That’s worth saying because not every increase is “inflation.” Sometimes it’s just adulthood.

Housing is still my biggest expense, and that’s normal. It should be. For most people, rent defines the skeleton of the budget.

My rent is 3,500,000 pesos per month.

That hasn’t changed.

But what that means in dollars absolutely has.

At 4,700 pesos to the dollar, that apartment looked like roughly $860. At today’s exchange rate, that same 3.5 million pesos is around $956.

Same apartment. Same terrace. Same neighborhood. Same kitchen that still has strong “this may have last been renovated during a Nixon administration” energy. But almost $100 more per month in dollar terms.

That is the clearest example of why expat budgeting is not just about local prices. It’s about local prices plus currency reality.

Now let’s talk about what I’m actually getting for that.

I live in Santa Bárbara, one of the nicer neighborhoods in Bogotá. For me, it’s the sweet spot. It’s safe, walkable, close to groceries, malls, restaurants, bike paths, and everything else I use regularly. And Bogotá is not some sleepy colonial town where every comparison breaks down because scale is tiny. This is a major capital city. A huge one. Dense, complicated, expensive by Colombian standards in the right neighborhoods, and absolutely deserving of city-level comparison.

For 3.5 million pesos, I have a three-bedroom penthouse apartment with a living room, kitchen, terrace, underground parking, two bathrooms, washing machine connections, and building amenities.

Could I rent something cheaper in Bogotá? Absolutely.

Could I go much cheaper if I wanted to optimize purely for savings? Yes.

If I dropped down to the cheapest apartment I’ve had here, my total monthly cost of living—not just rent, total—would fall dramatically. But that wouldn’t be my actual current lifestyle. And I think that distinction matters.

This isn’t “how low can a person possibly go?”
This is “what does a comfortable, real life cost?”

And for what I’m getting, the value is still hard to ignore.

Would I get a three-bedroom penthouse in New York for $956? No chance.
Would I get that in most desirable US cities? Also no.
Would I get that with the same mix of walkability, services, and lower everyday friction? Very unlikely.

That’s where Bogotá keeps making its case.

This is one of the most underrated advantages of Bogotá.

People talk about climate in emotional terms, which makes sense. “I like cooler weather.” “I want spring all year.” “I hate humidity.” Fine. But climate is also a financial category.

And Bogotá quietly saves you money here.

No air conditioning.
No real winter heating burden.
No massive seasonal swings where the utility bill becomes an emotional event.

My electricity bill came in at 313,910 pesos, which is about $86. I work from home. I run multiple computers. I upload, edit, back things up, and generally live the kind of digital life that is not especially gentle on power use. So this is not some monastic low-consumption setup.

My gas bill, which covers hot water and the stove, was 41,650 pesos—about $11.

Water in Bogotá is billed every two months. My typical bill is about 360,000 pesos, so averaged monthly that’s roughly 180,000 pesos, or about $49. That includes water, sewer, and trash.

Put all of that together and I’m at around 535,560 pesos monthly, roughly $146.

That’s for a large apartment, in a higher-strata neighborhood, with me working from home.

And that strata detail matters. In Colombia, neighborhoods are categorized from 1 to 6, and the higher strata subsidize lower ones. I’m in strata 6, which means I pay more. If I lived in a lower-strata neighborhood, utilities would be noticeably cheaper.

So when people ask whether Bogotá is affordable, the better answer is often: it depends what part of the city you choose, and how much you’re allowing climate to work for you.

Because compared to many US cities, especially places where summer AC or winter heating is brutal, Bogotá utilities still feel almost suspiciously reasonable.

This category remains one of Colombia’s strongest flexes.

I pay 115,000 pesos per month for 500-meg symmetrical fiber. That’s around $31.

And this is not “maybe the upload is good on Tuesdays if the moon cooperates” internet. This is real fiber. I use it hard. Video calls, large uploads, cloud backups, content work—it handles everything I ask from it.

My cell plan is 49,000 pesos per month, around $13. Unlimited calls, unlimited texts, solid data, no drama.

Combined, internet plus mobile comes out to about 164,000 pesos per month, roughly $44.

That is still absurdly strong value.

In the US, people regularly pay more than that for worse internet, or more than that for their phone alone. In Bogotá, I get both, and I don’t have to think about them much. And that’s the dream with infrastructure: not that it’s flashy, but that it disappears into normal life.

Good internet is not exciting. Good internet is peace.

This is where life in Colombia still feels very different from life in the US.

My barber charges 50,000 pesos. That’s about $13 to $14. And this is not a rushed buzzcut under fluorescent lighting with someone silently resenting your existence. This is a full experience. Hair wash, scalp massage, hot towel, a little shoulder work at the end. In a lower-strata neighborhood, I could pay less. But I like where I go, and I’m paying for consistency as much as the haircut.

A pedicure costs me 25,000 pesos, about $7.

My cleaning lady now charges 100,000 pesos for a full day, around $27. She shows up early, leaves late afternoon, and does the kind of thorough work that changes your week.

That price used to be lower. It has gone up. Again, labor costs. That’s real. But even after the increase, the value is still extraordinary compared to the US.

When I average the barber monthly, add the pedicure, and one full cleaning day, I’m around 175,000 pesos total, about $48 a month.

That category alone says a lot about why people stay abroad.

These aren’t billionaire luxuries here. They are attainable normalcy.

And once you’ve lived with that version of normal, it becomes very hard to get excited about paying triple or quadruple the price elsewhere for less comfort and less ease.

This is the biggest personal change in my budget.

In 2025, I was around 800,000 pesos per month in groceries. In 2026, I’m closer to 1,120,000 pesos, which is about $306.

That’s a meaningful increase, but it needs context.

This is not just “Colombia got more expensive.” It’s also that I changed how I eat. I’m buying more protein, more quality groceries, more fresh food, and less random snack nonsense. I’m cooking more. I’m eating more intentionally.

Local Colombian products are still very affordable. Fruit is cheap. Vegetables by the kilo are reasonable. Eggs, chicken, coffee—still very strong value.

The pain shows up when you want imported products.

That’s where the gringo tax starts quietly tapping you on the shoulder.

Peanut butter you recognize. US cereals. Imported sauces. Certain supplements. Specialty snacks. All of that reminds you immediately that import duties are real and that missing home has a price tag.

I also keep a PriceSmart membership, which is essentially Colombia’s Costco cousin. That membership is 144,900 pesos annually, about $40 a year, or roughly $3–$4 per month averaged out. It’s where I go for bulk items, certain imported comforts, protein bars, and all the things you buy not because they’re the cheapest option, but because sometimes you want a little familiar nonsense in your life.

Could I lower my grocery bill? Easily.

Could I eat much cheaper if I went fully local and more minimalist? Yes.

But again, that’s not the point of this breakdown. This is my actual life, not a performance of austerity.

And honestly, I’d rather spend on better food than spend on restaurants right now.

I don’t own a car in Bogotá, and that shapes my math in a very favorable way.

I walk a lot. I bike more now than I used to. My neighborhood supports that. When I use Uber, it’s because it makes sense, not because my life collapses without a vehicle.

In the 30 days before a recent US trip, I spent 283,292 pesos on Uber, about $77. That’s higher than normal because it included airport runs and travel-related trips. Realistically, a normal month is closer to 140,000 to 160,000 pesos, say around $40 to $45, and many months lower.

I also pay for Uber One, which gives me about 10% back on rides. Since I use it enough, it makes mathematical sense.

Now compare that to the US.

Car payment.
Insurance.
Gas.
Maintenance.
Parking.
Repairs.
Registration.
Mental exhaustion.

Owning a car in many US cities easily runs $600 to $900 a month or more. Here, even in a high-use month, I’m under $80. Most months, much lower.

That’s not just a transportation difference. That’s a lifestyle architecture difference.

A city that lets you opt out of car dependency changes your entire financial baseline.

My EPS payment in 2026 is 145,000 pesos per month. That’s around $40.

That gives me access to Colombia’s public healthcare system—doctor visits, specialists, prescriptions, labs, routine care.

If you’re just moving to Colombia, you may not qualify for EPS right away. New visa rules typically require private insurance first, so your first-year numbers may look different. But once you’re established, this is where Colombia becomes very hard to argue against.

In the US, many people pay hundreds of dollars a month—sometimes far more—just to have insurance. Then the deductible shows up. Then the copays show up. Then the system still finds a way to send you something weird in the mail six weeks later that feels like an invoice written by a hostage negotiator.

Here, I pay about $40.

Is the system perfect? No. Of course not. There can be bureaucracy and wait times. But for routine care and normal health needs, it works. And financially, it’s not even remotely the same game as the US.

This is one of those categories where living abroad stops being about novelty and becomes about sanity.

This category is completely optional, but I include it because real budgets should include real habits.

I keep US Amazon Prime, Disney+, Hulu, Paramount+, Spotify Family, and a VPN so I can access US libraries from abroad.

All of that totals about $60.55 a month.

Could I cut it? Yes.

Could I switch some of it to local Colombian pricing and save? Also yes.

But for me, simplicity matters more here. I like having the same billing ecosystem, the same access, and the same entertainment options I’m used to. It’s a convenience category, not a survival category.

And that matters when you think about expat life honestly. Not every line item is about efficiency. Some are about comfort. A sustainable life abroad usually includes both.

This is the part a lot of people miss.

When people ask, “Is Colombia cheap?” they usually focus on what things cost. But often the better question is: what categories disappear entirely, or shrink dramatically, when you change countries and lifestyle?

I don’t own a car here.
I’m not paying major heating or cooling costs.
I’m not paying US-style health insurance premiums.
I’m not paying for a gym membership right now.
I’m not eating out nearly as much as I used to.

Those absences matter.

Sometimes affordability isn’t about lower prices inside the same lifestyle. Sometimes it’s about living in a way where certain expensive habits and systems just stop being necessary.

That’s where the real savings happen.

Here’s the full monthly picture, using today’s exchange rate of roughly 3,660 pesos to the dollar:

Housing: 3,500,000 pesos — about $956
Utilities: 535,560 pesos — about $146
Internet and mobile: 164,000 pesos — about $45
Personal services: 175,000 pesos — about $48
Groceries: 1,120,000 pesos — about $306
PriceSmart membership averaged monthly: about 12,000 pesos — around $3–$4
Transportation: realistically around $40–$45 in a normal month
Healthcare (EPS): 145,000 pesos — about $40
Streaming and subscriptions: about 221,000 pesos — about $60.55

Grand total: 6,148,852 pesos per month
That’s roughly $1,680 per month

And what does that buy me?

A three-bedroom penthouse in a capital city.
Walkability.
Fiber internet.
Healthcare.
Good food.
Personal services.
No car payment.
No huge utility swings.
A life that feels easier, calmer, and more aligned than the one I had before.

Yes—but “cheap” is not the best word anymore.

I’d call it high value.

And that’s a much better way to think about it.

When the dollar was stronger, Bogotá felt absurdly cheap. Now it feels less absurd and more simply… worth it. That’s an important distinction.

Because if your whole plan depends on a country staying permanently dirt cheap in your home currency, that’s not really a plan. That’s a bet on exchange rates.

The better question is this:

What quality of life am I getting for the money I spend?

And on that question, Bogotá still makes a very strong case.

For about $1,680 a month, I live in a major capital city, in a great neighborhood, with more space, better daily convenience, lower structural stress, cheaper healthcare, strong internet, and a lifestyle that would cost dramatically more in most US cities.

If I simplified and downsized, I could live for much less. That flexibility is still there. But even without optimizing down, the value equation remains powerful.

That’s why I don’t think the real takeaway is “Colombia is cheap.”

The real takeaway is this:

Bogotá still gives you a lot of life per dollar.

And that, more than cheapness, is what makes people stay.