Introduction: Where Champeta Is Still Danced on Dirt Floors
It's nine o'clock on a typical Saturday night in Bello Horizonte, a working-class neighborhood in Santa Marta. The day's heat gives way to a breeze coming down from the Sierra Nevada. At the corner of 18th Street and 3A Avenue, a wooden and zinc kiosk, painted in faded green and yellow, begins to vibrate. There are no neon lights or flashy signs: just an 18-inch speaker that, when the owner connects the amplifier, rumbles like a steel heart. It is the last kiosk in Bello Horizonte that still plays live champeta. There is no reggaeton here, no covers of trendy songs. This is original, pure sound, with a concrete and dirt dance floor, and an audience that knows Monday means an early wake-up. If you arrive at 11 p.m., ask for "the perreo hour" and record a 30-second video with the hashtag #ChampetaBelloHorizonte. This place is a piece of history that refuses to disappear.
In May 2026, as gentrification advances along Avenida del Río and tourist apartment buildings multiply, this kiosk is an anomaly. Ten years ago, there were at least six. Today, only one remains. This guide is for those who want to understand champeta from its roots, for music lovers seeking the original sound, for urban anthropologists, and for any foreigner who wants to dance like a local.
📌 Transparency
This article contains sponsored/affiliate links. We may receive a small commission at no extra cost to you.
What to Do: A Saturday Night at the Kiosk
Arrive early, though. The kiosk opens its doors (or rather, pulls up its plastic curtains) around 7 p.m., but the live champeta starts after 9 p.m. The ritual is simple: you order a cold beer (Águila or Poker, $4,000 COP per bottle), sit on a plastic chair, and wait for the sound to warm up. There is no cocktail menu or gourmet offering. There is chorizo and potato picada, beef empanadas, and the smell of fried food mixing with sweat and speaker smoke.
- The sound check: Between 8:30 and 9 p.m., the owner, Don Jairo, adjusts the equalizers. It's a spectacle in itself. Listen to how the bass becomes dense, how the treble sharpens. If you're a music lover, this is gold.
- The perreo hour: At 11 p.m., Don Jairo turns the volume up to maximum and starts a set of classic songs. It's time to let loose. No one judges if you don't know how to dance. The rule is one: move your hips to the rhythm of the bass.
- The closing: Around 1 a.m., the sound lowers. People disperse slowly, some ordering one last beer. It's a calm ending, without a fuss.
A curious fact: at this kiosk, using your cell phone while dancing is not allowed. Don Jairo says that "music is felt, not recorded." But if you want to record, do it quickly and respectfully, especially during the perreo hour.
Where to Eat or Drink: What to Drink and Eat Around
The kiosk doesn't have its own kitchen, but on the same block there are options the locals know well. Don't expect restaurants with white tablecloths. This is honest, tasty neighborhood food.
La Picada de la Esquina
Half a block from the kiosk, on 3A Avenue with 19th Street, there is a picada cart run by Doña María. For $15,000 COP, she serves you a plate with chorizo, blood sausage, criolla potatoes, yuca, and hogao. It operates Thursday through Sunday, from 6 p.m. until the food runs out.
Las Empanadas de la Tía
On 18th Street, number 3-20, a lady named Lucía sells beef, chicken, and cheese empanadas. They cost $2,500 COP each. She fries them in palm oil, as it's always been done here. She's open Friday through Sunday, from 5 p.m. to 11 p.m.
Beer at the Kiosk
At the kiosk itself, you can buy beer, soda, and water. The prices are neighborhood-style: Águila and Poker at $4,000 COP, Club Colombia at $5,000 COP. There are no mixers or ice cubes. If you want rum, bring your own bottle, as Don Jairo charges $5,000 COP for the "dance floor fee" (a glass with ice and soda).
How to Get There and Transportation: Reaching the Heart of Bello Horizonte
Bello Horizonte is located southeast of Santa Marta, about 15 minutes by car from the Historic Center. The kiosk is at 18th Street and 3A Avenue, near the neighborhood's main park. There is no exact address because the streets don't have official signage in that area. It's best to ask for "the champeta kiosk" or "Don Jairo's place."
- By bus: Take any bus on the "Bello Horizonte" route from the Transport Terminal or from Avenida del Ferrocarril. The fare is $2,200 COP. Ask the driver to drop you off at "Bello Horizonte park." From there, walk two blocks south.
- By taxi or mototaxi: From the Center, a taxi costs between $10,000 and $15,000 COP. A mototaxi (called a "motocarro" here) costs $5,000 COP. Tell them "to the champeta kiosk, at 18th and 3A."
- By private car: There is street parking, but it's not guarded. Park on 3A Avenue, near the kiosk. Don't leave valuables in sight.
A tip: if you come at night, leave the kiosk in a group. The neighborhood is safe, but as in any working-class area, walking alone late at night is not the most advisable. On weekends, there is more movement and people leave together.
Local Tips: How to Dance Champeta Without Looking Like a Tourist
Champeta is not just a rhythm; it's a code. Here are some keys so you don't mess up:
- Don't dance close: Champeta is danced apart, with distance. Contact is minimal. If you get too close, people get uncomfortable.
- The basic step: Move your hips in a figure-eight, with your feet planted. Don't jump. Champeta is a waist movement, not a leg movement. Watch the locals and copy them.
- Don't ask for reggaeton: It's the ultimate offense. Don Jairo has a fixed playlist that always plays. If you ask for reggaeton, he'll give you a dirty look and say, "Only champeta here, son."
- The tip: If you want a specific song played, leave a tip of $2,000 or $5,000 COP for Don Jairo. He accepts it without smiling, but he plays it.
- Attire: Dress cool. Shorts, tank top or t-shirt. Closed-toe shoes, as the floor is concrete and dirt. No heels.
- Language: They don't speak English. If you don't know Spanish, bring a local friend or use your phone's translator. But the basics are understood: "una cerveza," "gracias," "buena música."
The Genealogy of the Kiosk: Don Jairo and His 40 Years of Sound
Don Jairo Rangel is 67 years old. He was born in the neighborhood, in a wooden house that no longer exists. In 1986, when he was 27, he bought his first sound system: a 200-watt Pioneer amplifier and two 15-inch speakers he rescued from a bankrupt nightclub downtown. With that, he set up the kiosk on the corner of his house. At first, he played vallenato and salsa, but in the mid-90s, when champeta exploded in the shantytowns of Cartagena and Santa Marta, Don Jairo turned to the genre. "Champeta is the music of the people," he says. "Vallenato became music for the rich."
The kiosk has gone through three generations. First, Don Jairo ran it alone. Then, his eldest son, who left to work in Bogotá. Now, his grandson, Carlos, 22, helps him, managing the kiosk's social media (yes, they have Instagram: @kioscochampeta_bellohorizonte, with 1,200 followers). Carlos is the one who records the 30-second videos he posts with the hashtag #ChampetaBelloHorizonte. "My grandfather doesn't understand social media, but I know we have to show this before it's gone," he told me one night.
The current sound system is a relic. It's a professional sound system brand JBL model SRX, from the 90s, with two 18-inch speakers and a Crown amplifier. It was repaired last year by a technician from Barranquilla who came specifically for it. Don Jairo paid $1,200,000 COP for the repair. "That's more than I earn in a month," he says, "but without sound, there's no kiosk."
The playlist that always plays includes classics like "El Arranca" by Elio Boom, "La Champa" by Mr. Black, "El Baile del Perreo" by DJ Jader, and "La Mala" by Kevin Florez. But he also plays lesser-known tracks, like "El Pato" by Luis Alberto and "La Culebra" by Charles King. If you ask him, Don Jairo will tell you the story of each one: who recorded it, in which studio, what year.
The Contrast with Gentrification: Kiosks That No Longer Exist
A decade ago, Bello Horizonte had six live champeta kiosks. Today, only this one remains. Gentrification arrived in Santa Marta hand-in-hand with tourist apartment buildings, boutique hostels, and fusion food restaurants. Avenida del Río, just ten minutes from Bello Horizonte, filled up with places selling $40,000 COP hamburgers and $30,000 COP cocktails. The champeta kiosks closed because they couldn't pay the rent, because new neighbors complained about the noise, because the Mayor's Office started demanding sound permits that cost millions.
Don Jairo survives because the house where the kiosk is located is his property. He doesn't pay rent. Additionally, he has a tacit agreement with the neighbors: he lowers the volume at 11 p.m. and doesn't play music on Sundays after noon. "If I had to pay rent, I would have left already," he says. "This is becoming like Bogotá. Everything is for tourists."
The closure of the other kiosks was not silent. The most famous one, "Kiosco La 14," closed in 2019 after new residents of a nearby building reported the noise. The owner, Don Óscar, moved to a location in the El Pando neighborhood, but he no longer plays live champeta. Now he plays reggaeton. "It's what people ask for," he says. Don Jairo knows this and refuses. "I'd rather close than play reggaeton," he states.
Frequently Asked Questions
What are the kiosk's hours?
The kiosk is open Thursday through Saturday, from 7 p.m. to approximately 1 a.m. On Sundays, it only opens if there is a special event, like birthdays or neighborhood parties. It is recommended to check hours before visiting, because Don Jairo sometimes closes if it rains heavily or if he is traveling.
How much is the entrance fee?
There is no entrance fee. The music is free. You only pay for what you consume (beer, soda, picada). If you want a song played, you leave a tip. There is no cover charge or minimum fee.
Is it safe to go to the kiosk as a foreigner?
Yes, as long as you go with respect. The neighborhood is quiet, but it is not a tourist area. Arrive by taxi or mototaxi, don't walk alone on dark streets, and don't show valuables like large cameras or expensive cell phones. The people at the kiosk are friendly, but they distrust those who come to show off. If you dance well, they might buy you a beer.
Can I bring children?
It is not recommended. The atmosphere is for adults: there is alcohol consumption, loud music, and suggestive dancing. Children have nothing to do there. It's better to leave them at home.
Are there bathrooms?
Yes, there is a bathroom at the back of the kiosk, but it is basic: a toilet and a sink. Bring toilet paper, because it sometimes runs out. There is no hot water or soap.