This popular place had long been a pin in my map for this trip. It’s the kind of place that has renowned reputation with travellers and is firmly on the gringo trail. Every second backpacker I met in my language school was on their way there. It’s very popular with domestic tourists too. People go for the brightly coloured buildings, the rustic coffee zone charm, handicraft shops, the world’s tallest palm trees, horse riding and other activities. The little place delivers on all of these promises.

My guide book series of choice – Lonely Planet – advises against being there at the weekend when it gets invaded. I took this advice and was glad I did. This meant I could bag the most amazing Air B and B so far on my trip.

In a place of wonky timber buildings with hippy adornments, it felt somewhat self-indulgent to ensconce myself in a brand new modernist mezzanine apartment in a ‘gated-community’ offering lovely balcony views of the surrounding mountains. But in my defence it was one of the few that offered the essential secure motorbike parking for Tejon.

The small town itself is nice enough, managing to sit on just the right side of charming. Clearly tourism has had a massive impact on the place, but so far it’s managing to keep the original features that the tourists come to see. Sure, the handicrafts strip of shops is longer than expected, but at my glance (I’d never actually go IN!) it looked to be genuine locally handmade stuff, rather than genuinely handmade by robots and children in a factory in China.

There’s a few old boys knocking about in traditional coffee farmers dress for the region (big hats and cloth sash) and an incongruous, but refreshingly boisterous, open fronted snooker hall, full of people getting pissed and drinking coffee from cups and saucers. In fact, it’s probably officially a billiard parlour. It’s been ages since I’ve seen a snooker table with no pockets and just 3 balls! I didn’t think it would be in Salento, Colombia.

The place is famous as a jumping off point for the Cocora Valley. A beautifully lush river valley that boasts the worlds tallest palm trees. It was a lovely 30 minute ride there in gorgeous scenery, dodging the customised jeeps with gringos standing on the tail-bumper hanging on as they hurtle around the windy roads.

The palm tree place itself was not for me. It turned out to be another example of lary Insta’ monetisation. The by-now ubiquitous props for people to stand in front of for that all-important, self-indulgent selfie, littered the place like Willy Wonka’s been fly tipping. But this place has gone a step further, not only are their various compounds charging entry for this tat, they are actively doing their best to restrict access to the palm tree photo by growing tall hedges to deliberately block the view! Well… they gotta make a buck somehow I guess, but I had a quick look, walked up the muddy track a bit then shuffled off, dignity partially retained.