Built from wood, guadua bamboo and palm thatch, the bungalows at Gitana del Mar are spread through a garden behind a wide, open beach on Colombia's northern coast. The Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta rises a short way inland, the highest coastal mountain range in the world, its peaks snow-capped even at this latitude and close enough that rivers running off them reach the sea within a few kilometers in either direction.

There are eleven bungalows in all. Each has a vaulted roof of palm fronds, a building method the indigenous communities along this coast have used for generations, and the height of the ceilings keeps the rooms cool. There is no air conditioning anywhere on the property, only ceiling fans and the breeze off the water. The largest room, Bungalow Sierra, runs to around 80 square meters under a cathedral-style frame of native guadua bamboo and hardwood, with walls of clay from the lower mountains and a shower lined with shells. Others are all timber, set closer to the sand, with private bathrooms open to the air and showers under the sky. None of the rooms have a television.

The ocean in front is the open Caribbean, often rough, with a current that runs even on calm days and long stretches of empty sand in both directions. Most swimming happens in the green-tiled saltwater pool. Four dogs live on the property and tend to fall in step with whoever is walking the beach. There is a yoga shala above the sand and a small spa running massages and treatments near the water. At night the surf is loud enough to sleep by.

Meals are included, three a day, and the kitchen builds them around what the local fishermen bring in and what is ready in the gardens: fish and seafood, fruit and herbs, Colombian dishes alongside Thai and Mediterranean ones. There is no set menu, so it changes daily. Fresh tropical juices come with every meal, pressed from passion fruit, guava, lulo, mango and whatever else is in season. The bar handles cocktails, wine and beer separately.

Service is close and personal. The staff arrange the day trips, sort transport, and pack lunches for anyone heading out to hike or to the rivers. There is no nightlife to speak of: the only beach bar within reach is a ten-minute walk down the sand.

Surfing here means the breaks scattered along this part of the coast, where rivers pour out of the Sierra Nevada and shape the sand. The Buritaca river mouth is minutes away, and a string of beach breaks runs west toward Santa Marta.

The mountains behind are sacred to the Kogui, Arhuaco and Wiwa peoples, who call the Sierra Nevada the Heart of the World and still live across its slopes. Their woven mochila bags have become a national emblem. Deep in the range is Ciudad Perdida, a stone city built by the Tairona centuries before the Spanish arrived, reached on a multi-day trek through the jungle. The entrance to Tayrona National Park, where the forest runs straight down to the Caribbean, is about fifteen minutes away by road.

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