Lying in an area to the South West of the country, just above a zone to which the FCDO advises against all but essential travel, is Cali. It’s the country’s third largest city with just over 2 million people and is definitely not high on the list of most travellers. Remarkably, in the Lonely Planet guide to Colombia, a volume of 288 pages, it warrants a piss-taking token 5 pages and the disparaging ‘for a city of its size, it has very few top attractions’. But all the locals I’d spoken elsewhere in Colombia about Cali had very similar remarks, the people are awesome but it is a bit dodgy. Good enough for me!

Arriving into the city followed a by now familiar path. Industrial outskirts with run down streets and dwellings, traffic getting more and more hectic then fast moving dual carriageways, roundabouts and flyovers. Usually at some point I hit what looks like a city centre. Taller buildings, maybe a nice square or two. Not so with Cali. My sat nav dumps me immediately off a major road into the precipitous back streets of the ‘cool’ area. And it’s small. Unfathomably small. Walkably small. The city is like a Botero sculpture, not following the rules of proportion adhered to by other cities. A bulbous belly of grit and hard work with disproportionately small hands and head where fun might be had.

A walk around the next day in search of a few pics for you my dear readers proves pretty unfruitful. Try as I might, even the odd nice building here and there looks a very poor relation to pretty much everything I’ve seen elsewhere in this lovely country. But wait! There seems to be something about this place I can’t quite put my finger on. The people seem somehow cheerier, the casual interactions in coffee shops and bars have more of a sense of humour about them. The willingness to take the piss a bit more… out of me and out of themselves. The faces seem more varied, an indication of Cali’s immigratory past.

There’s really only one show in town when it comes to arts, culture and fun nights out and that show is salsa. As the self-declared world capital of salsa, Cali is proud to wear this energetic, sensual music on its sleave. Everywhere you go, it’s all you can hear. One thing I’m loving about Colombia generally is that they love music and they love to hear it loud! Everywhere!

Buoyed up by a few beers I decide that I’ll brave the top glossy salsa club in town. I figure, it’s better to go on a Thursday night than at the weekend. And I’ll go early so I don’t get too embarrassed by the pro dancers later in the night. I’m in luck, I’ve strolled in at just the right time to join the free salsa lesson. About 30 gringos all trying to figure out the moves. As ever the women seem to get it far quicker than the men, and plenty of them look like they’ve good some decent experience already.

The lesson breaks up and before long the place is filling up with people strutting their stuff. On one side of the room the beautiful Cali locals are looking and performing sharp. In the main part of the room, the gringos look a bit more awkward but some are really game. Unfortunately, even as someone who loves to dance, I find it a bit hard to get the guts to go for it as I should. I have a few goes but never quite find my mojo. I’m ready for bed by mid evening but persevere to see the live band, due on at 12. As always the brass is sharp and the rhythms are slick. I take a few snaps of the awesome poster art and get the (necessary) Uber just 100m to my digs. The cabbie waits to see that I get through the door safe before he pulls off.

The following day I mooch around but still can’t find much to look at or take photos of. I have another excruciating phone call with my bank who have decided yet again to block my card due to potential fraudulent activity. The said activity being me, using my card, putting in my PIN number into a cashpoint to get my cash out. It seems that they probably have a red list of dodgy cashpoints that if used are always flagged and blocked. Thanks.

I have a wonderful afternoon spending some time in another small posh part of Cali pushing the boat out enjoying an amazing meal. I carry on and decide to hold out until another nearby salsa club opens its doors. I’ve heard of this one. While doing a little bit of youtube research on Colombia, I stumbled across a video of an old-school salsa club with a larger than life crazy old dude whose love in life is salsa music. Sure enough, as I enter and pull up a stool at the empty bar the same dude comes bounding over singing along to a blasting song he has just put on. One of life’s real fireworks. He doesn’t have much English but I manage to tell him that I’ve seen him before on the internet. He looks at me blankly and shakes his head, I wonder if he’s ever heard of the internet. He then drags me behind the decks and does his best to teach me how to play salsa bongos. Brilliant!

It’s the nice kinda place where women arrive and put their bags behind the bar. Over the next few hours, I sink into the salsa vibe. The place fills up, but never reaches close to capacity but it doesn’t matter a bit. Everyone is smiling, laughing, getting up to dance, with anyone and everyone. I lose my self-consciousness and for the first time manage to enjoy a few dances without overthinking what moves I need to remember. The percussion instruments on the bar are played by the punters and bar staff in time with the records (yes records). I’m the only gringo in the place but am made to fell like a long lost friend. I love these moments. No attitudes, no one trying to cop off with someone else, no one hanging about toilet cubicles, no bouncers needed, just a bunch of people getting lost in the music and sharing the moment. Amazing! And a real highlight of the trip so far.

The stories were true, the people in Cali are amazing. And who needs a flashy city when you’ve got that!?