Salento Is Not a Hidden Gem—Visit It Anyway

Okay so here is the thing about Salento, Colombia: everyone tells you it's this untouched colonial time capsule, but that's tourist board fiction. It's been found, thoroughly Instagrammed, and currently suffers from a chronic case of jeep congestion. The streets smell of diesel and wet coffee cherries, which is honestly perfect. But—and this matters—it's still worth your time if you know where to look and aren't afraid to tell your hostel's 'spiritual traveler' roommate to shut up about their aura cleansing. ## Skip the Main Square (After 6 PM) The plaza is a circus of backpackers taking identical photos of colorfully painted balconies while nursing overpriced aguardiente that tastes like licorice-flavored gasoline. Instead, climb the 250-odd steps to the Alto de la Cruz viewpoint around 5:30 AM. You'll share the vista with actual locals walking their dogs and maybe one other person nursing a hangover. The mist rolling over the valley while the town wakes up below is the only 'spiritual' experience you need here. ## Valle de Cocora: The Uncomfortable Truth Yes, the wax palms are magnificent—otherworldly giants that deserve every pixel of storage space they consume. But do not, under any circumstances, join the 9 AM jeep convoy from the plaza. Charter your own Willys jeep through your hostel for 5 AM departure, or better yet, hike the reverse route from Finca La Montaña. The 11-kilometer loop isn't leisurely—it's proper Andean mud that will destroy your white sneakers—but the cloud forest section featuring the skeletal remains of a crashed airplane and the hummingbird sanctuary at Acaime make the burning quads worth it. You'll hit the forest before the day-tripping hordes arrive with their bluetooth speakers playing reggaeton. The mud is still virgin, the horses haven't churned the trail into soup yet, and you can actually hear the wind through those impossibly tall palms. ## Eating Like You Belong Here Every blog tells you to eat trout at Donde Lucas. Don't. Walk ten minutes uphill to El Rincón de Lucy, where they actually clean the fish properly and the patacones don't taste like motor oil. For coffee, skip the plantation tours with their scripted presentations and go to Café Jesús Martín in town. The owner, Juan Pablo, is a third-generation coffee farmer who will lecture you—with warranted arrogance—about why your pour-over technique is destroying his beans' flavor profile. He sources exclusively from his family's farm in Quindío and roasts in small batches behind the counter while side-eyeing your Aeropress with visible disgust. Listen to him. Then try the honey-processed Gesha and apologize to your taste buds. ## Staying Just Long Enough Salento has a half-life of about three days. The town sits at 1,900 meters, which means altitude headaches for the unacclimated and surprisingly cold nights that send unprepared backpackers scrambling for alpaca blankets. Stay longer and you'll start noticing the same dreadlocked guy playing 'Wonderwall' on the hostel guitar for the fourth consecutive night. Leave sooner and you'll miss the subtle beauty of this mountain town—the way the afternoon rain hits the corrugated tin roofs, the actual farmers (not actors) washing their Willys in the stream, the fact that Colombia's coffee culture isn't a theme park but a functioning industry that tolerates tourism with polite indifference. It's not hidden anymore. But neither are most good things.