Falling in love with the novel Love in the Time of Cholera at the same time as I became hopelessly enamoured with the woman who became my wife was the reason that I ended up spending 12 weeks in Cartagena 12 years ago. Our own relationship had been pretty febrile and the tropical city of García Márquez’s masterpiece seemed like the perfect setting for our honeymoon.

So I rented an 18th-century Spanish colonial house and moved in with my beautiful bride and a plan to write a novel of my own. On the second night I did what all aspiring authors must and went to the local bar with a notepad. In the corner was a distinguished-looking white-haired gentleman with a trademark moustache. I was feet from one of the greatest novelists of the century and the pen literally fell from my hand.

It turned out that “Gabo” – as the locals called him – was my neighbour, and a few nights later I was introduced by the man who ran the bar. Despite my faltering Spanish and my inane questions about Florentino, Fermina and Juvenal, he responded with the grace of the truly great and gave me a virtual tour of the town and its locations in the book. He also gave me an invitation to his 60th birthday party.

It wasn’t as exalted an honour as it sounds, because the entire old town was the venue and half of Colombia was on the guest list, with the army acting as bouncers. Salsa bands played on the torch-lit ramparts, there was free food, and free rum in every taverna. At the centre of it Gabo sat holding court, smiling benignly and even nodding when I caught his eye. We spent most of the night in the company of a charming if dubious character called Lebanese Jimmy, who had decidedly magic-realist qualities.

The novel never got written and we’ve never been back to Cartagena, but the marriage has survived and the memories of that amazing city and the birthday party for its favourite resident have stayed as fresh as the fruit that hangs from its trees.

Times recommends

• Overlanding then and now
• Live Q&A: ski fitness and injury
• Get the right payment card and deny Ryanair its hefty fee