When the City Goes Dark: The Nocturnal Route of the Cocuyos in the Hills of Santa Marta (and the Coffee That Explains

When the City Goes Dark: The Nocturnal Route of the Cocuyos in the Hills of Santa Marta (and the Coffee That Explains It All)

On moonless nights in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, when the bustle of the Centro Histórico fades and the buildings on Carrera 5 blend into the darkness, there is a spectacle few tourists know about. It is not the neon lights of the Zona Rosa or the salsa beat in some bar on Calle 17. It is a tiny, almost magical glow, flickering among the undergrowth of the foothills of the highest coastal mountain in the world: the cocuyos.

For the indigenous Kogui people, who have inhabited these slopes long before Rodrigo de Bastidas founded the city in 1525, these points of light are not mere insects. They are sparks from the dreams of ancestors, guardians that illuminate spiritual paths. But there is a secret linking these insects to another sacred tradition of the area: coffee. And the exact point where both stories intersect is in a hidden village a few kilometers from the city, where the asphalt turns into a dirt track and time seems to stand still.

This is not the party route. It is the route of memory, and it begins when the city goes dark.

Origins

The relationship between the cocuyos (Pyrophorus noctilucus, a bioluminescent beetle) and the peoples of the Sierra Nevada is not a myth found in tourist brochures about Ciudad Perdida. It is a living connection, narrated in the Kogui language and in the mountain Spanish of the farmers from the La Tagua village. The Kogui, known as the "elder brothers" for their worldview that considers the Sierra Nevada as the "Heart of the World," maintain that every element of nature has a purpose in the universe's balance. The cocuyo, in their logic, is no exception.

Oral accounts collected on the coffee farms of Minca and its surroundings speak of the cocuyos as "little lamps of the dead." It is said that when a mamo (spiritual leader) died, their energy transformed into one of these beetles to guide the living along the steep paths connecting the lowlands with the high moors. The farmers of the La Tagua village, who for generations shared territory with indigenous communities, learned to read these light patterns: if cocuyos appeared in large numbers during the rainy season (April to June), it was a sign that coffee harvests would be abundant.

The meeting point between this tradition and the modern life of Santa Marta is on the road to Minca, specifically at kilometer 7, where the path towards the La Tagua village branches off. Here, the paved road that takes tourists to the Marinka waterfalls becomes a stone and dirt trail that winds through shade-grown coffee plantations. This is a transition zone: no longer the city, but not yet the cold high mountain. It is the area of the "cocuyales," the local name for forest clearings where these insects congregate on warm nights.

The region's oral history, passed down by local elders, tells that the ancient inhabitants of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta marked their trade routes with these insects. They carried them in small reed cages hung from trees to signal crossroads. When the Spanish arrived in the 16th century, they adopted this practice to avoid getting lost on routes towards gold mining inland. The tradition persisted well into the 20th century, until road construction and the arrival of electricity to the villages made these "living signals" obsolete.

Timeline or historical milestones

To understand how a luminous insect ended up associated with a cup of coffee in the hills of Santa Marta, one must review the key moments of this symbiotic relationship between nature, culture, and economy:

• 1525 - 1550: Founding of Santa Marta and first contacts between Spaniards and Kogui. Chroniclers mention "wandering lights" in the mountains that indigenous people used to communicate between settlements.
• 18th Century: The colonization of the Sierra Nevada foothills introduces coffee cultivation. Farmers from the La Tagua area learn from the Kogui the practice of releasing cocuyos in coffee plantations to control snail pests, which are natural predators of young coffee leaves.
• 1880 - 1930: The expansion of the railway and steam navigation on the Manzanares River boosts coffee trade. Cocuyos become a practical tool for muleteers transporting coffee sacks by mule at night, as the fireflies helped them stay on course along the darkest stretches of the road to Minca.
• 1950 - 1970: The construction of the Caribbean trunk road and the electrification of villages near Santa Marta drastically reduce the need for natural light. The cocuyo population declines due to pesticide use in banana monocultures on the flatlands.
• 1990 - 2010: The rise of drug trafficking and violence in the Sierra Nevada displaces several indigenous and farming communities. The La Tagua village becomes semi-abandoned, and with it, the ritual practices associated with the cocuyos.
• 2017 - 2026: Community tourism initiatives, led by organizations like the Ecolsierra Network and independent projects from the Boquerón village and Minca, begin to recover ancestral trails. The resurgence of interest in specialty coffee in Santa Marta (now with designation of origin) brings with it a revaluation of local stories, including that of the "coffee with cocuyo".

Key figures or events

There is no single historical figure who signed this tradition, but rather a constellation of local characters who keep it alive. One of them is Don Evaristo Márquez, a 78-year-old farmer living in the La Tagua village who still remembers his grandfather, a muleteer who used cocuyos inside perforated glass jars to light the way back from the coffee farms to the market in Santa Marta, a journey that took almost six hours on foot.

As Don Evaristo tells the few visitors who reach his farm, his grandfather always carried a cocuyo in his shirt pocket when he went to sell his harvest. Upon arriving in the city, he would release it in the Parque de los Novios as an offering to the ancestors. "That was so the next year would bring a good harvest," explains the old man, while preparing a cup of coffee over his wood-fired stove. "Now young people don't believe, but the cocuyos are still there, waiting for us to pay attention."

On the indigenous side, the mamo Lorenzo Torres, from the Kogui community settled in the Gaira river basin, has been a key voice in recovering these narratives. In several community assemblies held between 2019 and 2023, Torres has insisted that nighttime tourism in the Sierra Nevada should not become a folkloric spectacle, but rather an opportunity to educate about his people's cosmogony. He himself has guided small groups of visitors along the trails of the La Tagua village, explaining that the cocuyos are "the eyes of the night" and that their light only manifests when the forest is in balance.

Another key milestone is the creation, in 2021, of the Coffee and Cocuyos Route, an alliance between three farms in the village (all under 5 hectares) and a local guide certified by SENA. The route is not advertised by the major tourism agencies in Santa Marta; it spreads by word of mouth among travelers seeking authentic experiences. The tour begins at sunset, when the last rays of sun filter through the branches of the guamo trees that shade the coffee plants. Visitors walk along a trail of approximately 2 kilometers, of moderate difficulty, until reaching a forest clearing where, if the night is clear and the humidity is right, dozens of cocuyos can be observed in their natural habitat.

The culminating moment, however, is not observing the insects, but the ceremony of the "coffee with cocuyo". It is not a drink containing the insect, as some confused visitor might imagine. It is an infusion of high-altitude coffee (grown between 1,200 and 1,800 meters above sea level, in the Minca area) sweetened with panela and served in a totuma, the dried gourd used by indigenous people. The name refers to the practice of drinking coffee in silence, without artificial light, waiting for the cocuyos to appear around natural watering holes. "It's like having coffee with nature," says the local guide leading the experience. "The cocuyo is not drunk; it is accompanied."

This drink has a deep ceremonial meaning. For the Kogui, coffee is a "food for thought," a beverage that clears the mind to dialogue with the spirits of the mountain. The cocuyo, for its part, represents the inner light that each person must find. Uniting them in a single experience is an act of reconciliation between two worlds that have historically been in tension: the indigenous world and the peasant-mestizo world.

Current status

In September 2026, the situation of this tradition is a delicate balance between preservation and tourist pressure. The urban expansion of Santa Marta has been relentless over the past two decades. The neighborhoods of El Pando and Gaira have grown towards the foothills of the Sierra, invading territories that were once coffee plantations. The city's light pollution, visible from the La Tagua village as an orange glow on the horizon, has affected the mating patterns of the cocuyos, which are attracted to artificial light and end up disoriented, straying from their natural habitats.

However, there are signs of hope. The designation of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta as a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve (renewed in 2024) has brought funds for conservation projects. One of the most successful initiatives is the creation of a nocturnal biological corridor between the La Tagua village and the El Congo nature reserve, where "cocuyo hotels" have been installed: small wooden structures with holes that mimic the rotten logs where these insects lay their eggs.

The Kogui community, through its traditional authorities, has established clear rules for nighttime tourism. The number of visitors is limited to 8 people per group, mobile phones must remain off or in airplane mode throughout the entire tour, and the use of white light flashlights is prohibited (only red light is allowed, which does not affect the insects). These measures have been adopted by the three farms participating in the route and have been replicated in other villages such as Boquerón and Bonda, where the Ecolsierra Network has implemented similar community tourism programs.

Coffee, for its part, remains the economic engine of the area. The farms of the La Tagua village today produce specialty coffees with cup profiles featuring citrus notes and a silky body, resulting from the altitude and humid microclimate of the mountain. Some of these farms, such as Robinson Daza's in the Minca area (mentioned on Macana's routes), have begun offering nighttime coffee tastings, where visitors learn to differentiate the nuances of the bean while listening to the sounds of the forest. The connection between coffee and cocuyos has become a selling point, but also a reminder that sustainability is not only environmental but also cultural.

For the traveler arriving in Santa Marta seeking something beyond the beaches of El Rodadero or the bustle of the Bay, this route offers a unique perspective. It is not a comfortable experience: the trail is steep in some sections, nights can be cool (temperatures drop to 18°C in the higher areas), and conditions for seeing cocuyos are not guaranteed. They depend on the lunar phase, humidity, and honestly, luck. But that uncertainty is part of the charm. Unlike theme parks or organized shows, here nature rules.

The best time to attempt the hike is between April and June, during the rainy season, when the cocuyos are most active. There are also sightings in September and October, though less predictable. The starting point is the intersection of the road to Minca with the path to La Tagua, about 25 minutes by motorcycle or car from downtown Santa Marta. There is no official signage, so going with a local guide is essential. It is recommended to wear long-sleeved clothing, natural repellent (chemicals scare away the insects), and bring a water bottle. The hike lasts approximately 3 hours, including stops for observation and the coffee ceremony.

The cost of the experience varies by operator but ranges around $120,000 COP per person (reference price as of September 2026), and includes the