Out of the dark two unearthly lights loom towards us. The luciérnaga veers slightly, then vanishes among the bamboo. The children stop mimicking the nocturnal frogs and stare, transfixed. There – again. Its eyes are double headlights in orange, moving bewitchingly. Our covered torch emits a red glow that draws the creature towards us. It’s like summoning up an unearthly spirit. The firefly lands on an outstretched hand, for a few seconds of magic, then flies away. But the memory will stay. Welcome to Colombia .

I’ve waited years for this moment. For the past two decades I’ve been wittering about this place like a voice in the wilderness, and now its time has come. Colombia is shedding its old reputation and emerging as a top holiday destination. To prove it, I’ve brought the family along: my husband and our four children, aged four to 13. Our mission is the perfect family holiday in the world’s most misrepresented and misspelt country.

Why do I care? Because I lived in Colombia (not Columbia) in the mid-Nineties, and it was a charmed life of pure gold. I threw myself into the music, the food, and the cheery busetas clanging up the Avenida Caracas. There was a conflict going on out there, but all I ever met was kindness, curiosity, and rumba. It was a hard place to leave. It was, and still is, the most beautiful place I have ever been. Those were not good times to be Colombian. All the bad stuff you’ve heard of, the violence and kidnappings, peaked in the late Nineties. The only thing Colombians abroad ever got asked about was Pablo Escobar, the drug lord, or Andres Escobar, the murdered footballer. Pity the Colombians who shared that common second name. Pity Colombia, struggling out of a war directly funded by booming addictions all around the world – how do you escape that?

But gradually, they have. Problems persist from the violent years, but there is a courageous and ground-breaking peace process afoot, and the country is rocking a new profile on the world stage. Colombia has enviable economic growth, and its award-winning literary and arts scenes are feeding a renewed sense of national pride. Add in the highlights of last year’s World Cup, and suddenly Colombia is the most popular kid on the block.

As a result, the place has gone from adventure location to dream family holiday. Tourists are heading this way like never before, and it’s not just the hairy ones who like an illegal puff, or the conflict-zone junkies seeking out a boastably tough destination. No, these days it’s pretty much anyone. And that’s why I’m so insufferably full of I told you so. When one member of the group has a special interest in a place, it can be tedious for the others. Endless reminiscing; murmurs of “Ah, yes”, and “it’s just how I remember!” Luckily, Colombia has distractions in such abundance that my family can largely ignore me.

Not least because, after a couple of days in the capital Bogotá, we are heading to the best of places, the jewel in the Colombian crown – the coffee zone. It’s not deliciously slovenly, with infinite numbers of aphrodisiac fruits like the Caribbean. It’s not culturally superior, with grand but chilly architecture like the uplands. The coffee zone is functional and self-sufficient. Unlike so many exotic tourist destinations, this is a place where the locals live well.



The coffee zone is the jewel in the Colombian crown (Photo: AP/Fotolia)

It’s also sensually gorgeous: rolling, lush green coffee hills, the sound of birds and trickling water, the smell of coffee blossom. Colombia’s famous coffee grows at altitude, on the slopes of the Andes, interspersed with bamboo, papaya and palms. The climate is temperate, and the biodiversity astonishing.

Plenty of working coffee farms open their doors to tourists. We’re staying in the best one. Hacienda Venecia is a stunning farm, over a century old, that hosts travellers and caffeine enthusiasts from around the world. They come for the English-speaking tastings and tours of the coffee process. The casa principal is a traditional structure of wood and bamboo; “a house to humble architects”, according to the internationally renowned architect Simón Vélez.



A hummingbird in Colombia (Photo: AP/Fotolia)

It’s also a bird-spotter’s heaven – there are more than 216 species on the farm. The children aren’t natural twitchers, but even they get excited when the hummingbirds buzz past, and the peacocks swoop down from the mango trees. They wander off to eat granadillas, stalk iguanas, and pick gardenias. They disturb a cloud of yellow butterflies, lifting up through a bamboo grove.

Life in Hacienda Venecia is so enchanted that the modern phenomenon of fomo – fear of missing out – manifests in only one regard: I keep on walking around, recircling the wooden veranda around the perimeter of the house, astonished again and again by the dramatic 360-degree unfurling views. Like a dog turning three times before settling in its basket, the challenge is to find the best aspect before flopping back into another hammock.

We head out coffee-picking and horse-riding, but there is always time for watching the sunset from a hammock, listening to the river rushing below. We meet other guests and, without exception, one glance reveals a common knowledge – everyone is smitten. There’s nowhere like this. On our last day in the coffee zone, not one of us wants to leave.

But leave we must. From here we’re flying north to the Caribbean. Not Cartagena – everyone goes there. Smaller and farther east is Cartagena’s slightly less fabulous sister: Santa Marta. This is Colombia’s oldest city (assuming that history began when the Spanish invaded). “I brought my mum here 20 years ago,” I announce. The kids make vague polite noises. We’re going to stay in the exact same hotel, in the nearby fishing village of Taganga. At least, it used to be a fishing village. Today Taganga is more of a party town. It’s bustling, the breeze is heavy with salt and tropical music. The beach strip is a cheerful, laid-back mix of bars, fishing boats and huts serving fried food. At first I’m annoyed. The coast lacks the gentle perfections of the coffee zone; it’s shabby and slow and very hot. But after a day of adjustment we are all costeños. All it takes is a fried snapper, coconut rice and plantain, with a cold beer by the deepest blue sea.



The beach near Santa Marta (Photo: AP/Fotolia)

The hotels are on the average side, and those seeking stylish glamour should probably stick to Cartagena. But we happily slip into a routine of boat trips to snorkelling reefs and neighbouring beaches, and life is easy. After a few days my husband feels the need to inject a bit more challenge into the proceedings: “Let’s go camping in Tayrona Park.” Tayrona is a huge national park where the snow-peaked mountains of the Sierra Nevada sweep down through jungle into the warm Caribbean sea.

We board the speedboat from Taganga, crammed together. Around the headland, we run headlong into towering waves and winds. It’s a nautical experience of unmitigated horror. My stricken neighbours beg the captain for mercy. Meanwhile, several people upwind of me are extravagantly sick. I keep my eyes clamped shut for most of those long 50 minutes, so can only guess at the majesty of the passing coastline. But as we stagger onshore at Cabo San Juan, drenched children wailing and knees shaking, everyone eventually agrees that it was worth it. The surroundings are unparalleled. Two perfect beaches meet end-on, with a freshwater stream running down the middle, ending in a pool full of small frogs. The coconut trees lean in, rustling soothingly, and there are hammocks draped everywhere. Despite this my indefatigable husband decides we should all hike up to Pueblito, an ancient village of the Tayrona people.

It’s a steep trail but constantly changing, and enticing enough for even the four-year-old to manage. Up and up, with the ocean roar fading behind us, sounds of monkeys, and large iridescent blue butterflies. The village is impressive, and sad. The park is now painstakingly protected, but all rather too late – the Tayrona are long gone. We shelter in the shade, trying to envisage that annihilated civilisation, while the children pan for fool’s gold in the glittering streams running beneath the stone-paved terraces.



A tamarin (Photo: AP/Fotolia)

Scrambling back down, we plunge through thick foliage straight on to the golden beach, and even the older children have to admit that they completely love it. They scavenge for coconuts and drink the water inside. “Why are the lizards blue?” “Can we play with the tadpoles?” “There’s a crab on my tent!” “Please can we travel back to Taganga by land?”

In our three delicious weeks we have scarcely scratched the surface of what Colombia has to offer. There’s still the Amazon, Medellín, the llanos and the Pacific coast. When the tourist board came up with the slogan “el riesgo es que te quieres quedar” (“the only risk is wanting to stay”), many Colombians were affronted. But the campaign’s success has answered these critics soundly, prompting some to launch witty online comparisons between Columbia, the misspelt violent hellhole featured in movies, and Colombia, the friendly and golden land.

I used to tell people: Colombia’s amazing and you should go there because they need the tourism. But now the place is doing just fine, not a whiff of austerity here. Colombians may be delighted to see a foreign face, but they don’t really need us at all. So instead I urge you to go for another reason: you will never know what you’re missing if you don’t.

Getting there

Avianca (0871 744 7472; avianca.com) has direct flights from London to Bogotá from £596 return. From there, VivaColombia (vivacolombia.co) flies to numerous destinations within the country, including Pereira, for the coffee zone.

Where to stay

In Bogotá, Abadia Colonial is a popular, Italian-owned, 12-room hotel with cosy rooms and a lovely patio, right in the heart of La Candelaria. Double room with breakfast from £46 (00571 341 1884; abadiacolonial.com).

Hotel de la Opera is a handsome, colonial-style hotel with two restaurants and a spa, right beside the Teatro Colón – it’s probably the smartest small hotel in La Candelaria. Doubles from £82 room only (336 2066; hotelopera.com.co).

In the coffee zone, Hacienda Venecia (320 636 5719; haciendavenecia.com) has double rooms in the main house from about £65 per night; the food is exceptional. Cheaper rooms are available in its nearby hostel, which has a swimming pool.

What to do

In the capital, Bogotá Bike Tours (bogotabiketours.com) runs imaginative English-language cycle tours of the city.

In the coffee zone, Hacienda Venecia (details above) organises three-hour coffee tours of the estate for £11.50 per person. It also provides maps and instructions for finding the best birdwatching spots on the property, together with species identification notes.

Health

Yellow fever vaccination is advised for coastal areas, where dengue fever and chikungunya are also present. The coffee zone does not have these health issues, but there are biting insects in daytime, so bring repellent.