A Tale of Two Countries

The last time I posted, we were in Puerta Viejo on the southern Caribbean coast of Costa Rica with all its steamy lushness and its tropical air, dense with humidity. We had brainfog from fitful sleeping under noisy fans and insistent mosquitoes buzzing around the bedroom who became silent when we decided to ‘get them’ but started up again as soon as we lay down😫. But in reality, there were surprisingly few bugs which – in spite of my moaning – is not a good thing in an environmental context.

There were enormous spiders creating their art in the trees and we were fascinated by the leaf cutter ants that cut fragments from leaves high in the canopy and then brought them down the trunk back to the nest – truly an epic journey of skill and co-operation. In the nest, the leaves are chewed to a pulpy mush which triggers the growth of fungus that feeds the colony. Swimming in the Carribean was like immersing in a warm bath but with little fish – we loved walking through the forest to Cocles Beach with its drifwood and cocunuts freckling the golden sand and its backdrop of mixed forest providing dappled shade and welcome coolness. Anywhere in Europe, the driftwood would have been collected for fuel, especially in this approaching winter but here, cold is never an issue. Lying on the sand under the trees, we discovered that they were never silent, swaying in the light breeze, dropping leaves and branches which scattered unseen birds. So much abundance with everything growing to extraordinary heights and brightly coloured flowers weaving through bushes.

When we arrived in the small town of Puerta Viejo, we were stunned by the noise and fumes of the traffic – buses, 4×4 s, moterbikes and the cyclists peddling along amongst the mayhem, risking their lives or so it seemed. But it was amazing how quickly what looked so dangerous became routine and soon we acquired bikes with no gears and which we had to pedal backwards to brake. We were cycling over narrow bridges without barriers and weaving among the jeeps and tourist buses like locals. The bikes were perfect because the terrain was flat and there’s no hurry to get anywhere in the tropics….pura vida. We cycled to Playa Uva, another beautiful beach in the south with crystal clear water. We had plans to cycle to the border with Panama but heavy rain and thunderstorms thwarted us…..our apps telling us that the weather was only going to get wetter

We ate rice and beans and the MOST delicious pinapples that we have ever eaten but in Puerta Viejo, it was possible to eat anything from sushi to Indian curry to hamburgers. Although the beaches just a little out of town were almost deserted, the town itself was really touristy with lots of bars, noise and flashing lights. Great for a few days but we prefer the quiet life. So we had decisions to make – where to go next?

Outside our little apartment, the rain fell from the sky in straight lines, running down the cocunut leaves and dripping off the tip of each individual leaf like an outdoor shower. We could almost see the jungle plants stretching and growing. High in the trees over the fence, monkeys screeched and played – our landlady told us that they loved the rain. Unlike us! The wet season in Costa Rica was proving wetter than we expected. As our return flights to Dublin in December are from Costa Rica, we decided to head north to Guatemala and explore more of Costa Rica on the way back. We investigated going overland but buses that usually took about 24 hours were now 35 hours or more because of landslides, road closures and diversions due to the heavy rains. . So although we didnt really want to fly, we booked flights to Guatemala City and bus tickets back to San Jose, the capital of Guatemala, to catch the flight.

At the bus station , which had the most scenic cafe I have ever been in, we were met with bad news. There has also been landslides on the road back to San Jose so that the 5 hour bus journey would now be at least 7 hours because of a long detour AND we have to pay extra. The bus stopped in Limon, about 2 hours up the coast, for a welcome pit stop and then the bus driver announced that the landslides have been cleared and the road has reopened. Good news but there was a catch. We could go by the reopened road but wouldn’t get our money back or we could still take the detour to get our moneys worth. Of course, everyone on the bus opted to go on the reopened route. Truth or scam? Although Costa Rica is not a cheap country to travel around, bus transport is economical (A 5 hour journey costs about €10 on a reasonably comfortable bus…a bit more if you have to pay extra for detours🤣). We spent the night in a little apartment near the airport with padlocked gates, numerous locks – even two chairs on the little concrete patio were chained to the ground -and a landlady who couldnt wait to get rid of us. Conversely, all this security made us feel a little uneasy and unfriendliness is not the norm in Costa Rice

Our uber driver dropped us to the airport in a clapped-out Chevrolet Spark blaring the Bee Gees Staying Alive just as the rains started again. Costa Rica is an amazing country with incredible biodiversity and a laid back attitude(Pura Vida is the slodan everywhere). It is also a country without an army. In the mid twentieth century, Figueres, a farmer philosopher came to power and absolished the army, quoting HG Wells ‘The future of mankind cannot include the armed forces’ and laid the foundation for Costa Rica’s unarmed democracy. We look forward to returning …..when its drier. The San Jose airport was very relaxed with an incredible number of staff in the gift shop eager to sell us stuffed parrots and sloths – they didnt know we are travelling very lightly😀.

While waiting for our flight, we browsed the Guatemalan newspapers on our phones – big mistake. There were reports of murders, drug violence and mayhem on every page. Guatemala City has a really bad reputation and is often described as big, dirty and dangerous. We were too nervous to stay there and booked accomodation in Antigua, an historical town about an hour from the airport. We weren’t sure what to expect when we walked out of the arrivals terminal building in Guatemala but it was a surprising oasis of calm – a few taxi drivers in crisp white shirts ignored us and a few business types with briefcases waited for their company pick-up. Honestly, arriving at Dublin Airport can be more intimidating. The temperature was pleasantly cool without the oppessive humidity of San Jose. The guy in the tourist booth was very helpful, told us about taxi prices and shared shuttles and put the WiFi password into our phones (we didnt have any mobile data/local SIM). Armed with connectivity, we booked an Uber on the airport WiFi – it was cheaper than the airport taxis. and we could pay online as we didnt have any quetzels yet, the currency of Guatemala. Then we waited and…….. waited ….as darkness slowly fell. The first Uber cancelled, so did the next one but finally Diego, our third attempt came to pick us up, playing Saturday Night Fever (do all Uber guys have the similar taste in music?) It was Friday evening rushhour so traffic was appalling and probably why the Ubers cancelled. The 50 minute journey took about 2 hours crawling past shopping malls, factories and enormous billboards advertising fast food and Pepsi. Diego dropped us in Antigua at the door of our accomodation, a B’nB called Casa Ela in a quiet cul de sac, where we were welcomed by Alvaro and Lupita who spoke excellent English and told us to make ourselves at home. ‘Out house is your house’.

Right from the start, we were charmed by Antigua, with its cobbled streets, pastel facades, and old beautiful buildings, -even the ruins here are picturesque -and its gorgeous setting, surrounded by mountains and a ring of conical volcanoes. This was the old colonial capital of Guatemalais, a town that has seen earthquakes, floods, hurricanes, been abandoned on more than one occasion but has risen to become the number one tourist destination in Guatemala. Behind some modest facades were luxury hotels with fountains, gardens and polished wooden floors. There were no garish billboards or flashy lights, its an UNESCO Heritage town. We had trouble finding an ATM as it was hidden under an old church colonade. The streets and plazas were full of locals and visitors wandering about amongst indiginous people hawking handcrafts.

Looking at the mountains for the rooftop of our accomodation and watching Volcano Fuego blowing plumes of smoke and fire into the night sky, we knew that we had to get out there and hike. Volcana Pacaya was the closest and easiest to climb so we booked a tour online for the following day.

The minibus to pick us up was late – so late that we thought we had been scamed but finally it arrived….time is elastic here. We were jolted around the cobbled streets in the back of the minibus – the cobbles look gorgeous but are a nightmare for both the car and our body suspensions. We left the city and meandered uphill for about an hour and a half past villages and green, incredibly fertile countryside to the National Park entrance where we were greeted by a row of taxis – horses to rent. We watched the horsemen watching us as we creaked out of the minibus, calculating who wouid likely succumb to altitude and tiredness and rent a horse. The horsemen followed us uphill on shaly lava dust, constantly asking ‘Taxi, you want taxi’ with the horses breathing on our bums, hurrying us along. Eventually they gave up and returned to base although a dog with begging eyes followed us all the way. Pacaya stands at 8,373 feet and the height gain on the hike was about 1,500 feet but the path was clearly marked. Our main issue was the wind and heavy rainshowers. Hurricane Julia had battered Nicaragua and although, it veered away from most of Guatemala, we were still experiencing the tail of it. The wind screamed through the telecommunications mast on the mountain and flapped Caoimhin’s wet gear (a wraparound skirt made of black nylon material) like a drum. But the views were breathtaking and for the last section we walked, bent over in the wind, beside the most recent lava flow from an eruption a year ago which stopped just 400 metres from a village that was directly in its path. Access wasn’t allowed to the very top but we got to a high point where the lava glowed red-hot and it was possible to toast marchmallows in the glowing embers. We trudged down, watching wispy clouds and the tinge of pink as the sun set over the greys and blues of the mountains and arrived back to the minibus in near total darkness. The hike was fairly short, about an hour and a half up and an hour down. If the photos look a lit blurry, blame it on the gale that nearly whipped the cameras from our hands

As I type this, we are listening to the rain, hammering on the roof of our BnB. Alvaro tells us that bridges have been washed away in the north of the country, many roads are impassable and all schools are closed today. Alvaro also tells us that it is only once every five years that Guatemala gets a rainy season that is as intense as this one. Hurricane Julia has turned into a tropical depression but the weather is set to improve in two days with no more rain until next May😎. We have booked a shuttle bus to take us to Lake Atitlan which a travel writer in the nineteenth century described as ‘the most marvelous spectacle we ever saw‘ and he had been around a bit.

So we will let you know…….if we get there. So from the steamy jungles of Southern Costa Rica to the lofty heights of Pacaya Volcano in Guatemala, thanks for reading and coming along with us.