Week 40 - Suchitoto, El Cuco, La Union, El Tunco (El Salvador)

After an interesting breakfast of pupusas, a typical Salvadorian food of maize flour tortillas stuffed with refried bean paste, we packed our bags and jumped in a taxi to the Oriente bus terminal. Once there we jumped on a chicken bus to Suchitoto, a small town of white washed buildings and cobblestone streets. Even the bus journey was great, despite being quite bouncy we passed though some pretty villages with brightly coloured murals and painted lamp posts. The lamp posts are all over El Salvador, the paintings range from simple naive style cherries to delicate landscapes and paintings of birds.

We fell in love with the place as soon as we stepped off the bus and quickly settled in to a little hostel with a fantastic communal terrace - Blanca Luna. After a stroll around town and an iced coffee and bread pudding at a little coffee shop on the square, we headed out to Cascada Los Tercios. After a 30 minute walk along a road leading out of town we arrived at the site of the small waterfall only to discover it was dry. In wet season, the ‘falls’ tumble over a cliff of tightly packed hexagonal stone spires, a geological oddity related to volcanic activity. The rock formation was impressive even without water but not quite photo worthy - I think we would have had to climb to the bottom to really appreciate it. Back in town we paid 25 cents to visit a hostel with a mirador overlooking the Suchitlán lake, an artificial lake formed when the Cerrón Grande hydroelectric dam was built in the 1970’s. The view was spectacular.

Back at the hostel we spent the evening playing cards with some other travellers heading out for a nice meal just in time to be back and tucked up in bed when the nightly storm hit.

The next day we decided to walk the 30mins down to the lake. Once there we paid 50 cents to enter the tourist centre, an area of market stalls and restaurants. We stayed only briefly as the boat trips were too expensive before heading over to where the ferry was docked to try to take a cheap alternative to the tours just to see the lake from the other side. The ferry wasn’t running anymore that day so we jumped on a bus back up the hill to town for a drink in a little cafe with another great mirador. We’d intended to swim in the lake but decided it wasn’t very appealing once we got down to the shore so instead we stopped off at a posh hotel and paid to use their pool and sun loungers. After lunch Rhys headed back to the hostel and I spent an hour wondering around the streets just soaking up the atmosphere. Another nice restaurant meal later and we made it back to the hostel just as the nightly storm hit.

Our next stop was El Cuco. To get there we had to take a bus from Suchitoto to the InterAmercana, and a guy flagged down another bus for us to get to San Miguel. We missed our stop and the conductor ended up dropping us out of town at a roundabout and another bus driver informed us that we were better heading to El Cuco from there than our intended stop of La Union. We were already pretty hot and bothered by the time we arrived and it didn’t help that the Rough Guide didn’t mention any decent places to stay in the town. After viewing some horrendous options we opted for one that looked abit like Butlins, right on the beach with two pools. We ventured out for a walk along the beach and realised it wasn’t really our cup of tea. However we did enjoy foraging for shell fish on the walk back and giving them to the locals, Rhys is an expert forager. Although the beach is nice with a big arch of golden sand, it isn’t really a backpacker place and is more kitted out for the hordes of Salvadorian day trippers. We’ve later learnt that we should have headed further up the coast to El Esteron but hindsight is a wonderful thing and we’re finding the El Salvador section of our guide book is pretty out of date in a country that’s opening up to tourism fast. 

After a quick dinner before the whole town shut up for the night - I think there were only a handful of people actually spending the night, we were back in our room. The nightly storm hit about 10pm and we decided it would be a great time to test the water slides in the kids pool.

We left El Cuco early the next morning to head to La Union. As we couldn’t find any better bus information our journey took us back to San Miguel, the third time we’d passed through the town. We changed buses at the Metro Centre after stopping there for a Burger King. La Union was scorching when we arrived. Not a pretty town, just a criss cross of streets full of market stalls and shops. We checked into a room with aircon and after a reccy around town to work out where to get the boat from to Isla Meanguero the following day we headed back to the hostel to relax. As soon as we got back I started to feel unwell and came down with a fever, I pretty much went to bed at 4pm and didn’t get up again until the next morning except for when Rhys made me take a cold shower - he was a great nurse. 

By the next morning the fever had pretty much passed but we decided a trip out to the island wasn’t the smartest idea as our intention was to go there to hike and I wasn’t really healthy enough. Instead we took yet another bus, back through San Miguel to San Salvador. Once in San Salvador we took a taxi across town to catch another bus south to La Libertad. From La Libertad we then caught a third bus to El Tunco. Salvadorian people are some of the most friendly people we’ve come across and are really going towards making this one of my favourite countries since we’ve been away, the problem is we’re used to being hounded and expect people trying to take your bag off you to put on a bus to be after a tip when in actuality, here they just want to be helpful.

El Tunco is a little village that has built up around a surf spot. It only has a couple of tracks but has a number of hostels, juice bars, restaurants and surf schools and it’s full of backpackers, most of whom come here to surf and end up staying longer than intended. As we’re not very accomplished at the sport we gave it a miss and took the time just to relax by the pool at the hostel, walk along the pebble beach accompanied by local dogs, climb onto massive rocks and generally kick back. The most active we’ve been is a short hop on the bus back to La Libertad to the supermarket. Other than that we’ve whiled away the days drinking Oreo smoothies and rum (not together unfortunately) and eating Rhys’s homemade blow your head chili popcorm. Although it’s a very pretty palm lined stretch of coast, the beach isn’t ideal for sitting on so we tend to hole up at the hostel, saying that, Rhys is on the beach as I type this watching the last of the surfers with a cold beer. We may have missed Glastonbury this year but this is a pretty decent alternative!

View from the mirador of Lago Suchitlán, Suchitoto.

Graffiti on colonial building, Suchitoto. 

Hostal Blanca Luna, Suchitoto.

Rhys walking along El Tunco beach.

Me, El Tunco beach.

Rhys watching surfers from the top of a massive rock, El Tunco.

Me, El Tunco.

Week 39 - Leon, Esteli, Matagalpa, San Salvador (Nicaragua, El Salvador)

We had a relaxed last day in Leon. Rhys got me to a agree to a Burger King for lunch before we headed to the Centro de Arte Fundación Ortiz Gurdián, a small art gallery composed of two restored, colonial buildings housing exhibitions of paintings, sculptures, images, and contemporary arts. After the gallery we wondered the streets for a while before Rhys headed back to the hostel and I popped out for a haircut. Later Rhys headed to the cinema to watch Superman in the air conditioned theatre as respite from the heat of Leon - we’re talking 34 Celsius minimum every day. That evening we headed to a bar for a few quite drinks with Charlie, an Irish guy who we went volcano boarding with.

The next day we left Leon and headed east to the central highlands and Estelí. Estelí isn’t the prettiest place in the world but apparently is a hotbed of political activity having seen heavy fighting and serious bloodshed during the Revolution. We checked in to a little hotel near the cathedral and after a brief wonder around town to orientate ourselves, stopped for a street food burger dinner. 

We were up early the following day (just after the air raid siren had gone off in the square, no idea what that was for) to catch a bus out to Somoto, a village 20km from the Honduran border. Having arranged a tour in Estelí, we were met by our guide at the bus station and piled in to a taxi to his house. We dropped off our bags, donned the wet shoes provided and jumped back in the taxi to the entrance of the Somoto Canyon national park. We spent the next 4 or so hours wading down river, hopping from boulder to boulder, swimming in the deeper bits and hurling ourselves off of the rock walls into the river below. I think the biggest jump I managed was about 12m with Rhys braving 16m. The canyon was extremely peaceful and beautiful, other than one family we didn’t see any tourists, just locals fishing. The trip ended with a short boat trip and a walk back to the guides house where we had lunch before grabbing a taxi back to the bus station and an express bus back to Estelí. 

Our next stop was Matagalpa, an hour and a half further east. Matagalpa has a prettier setting than Estelí, set as it is in the mountains, surrounded by bright green coffee plantations and alpine pastures. We spent the afternoon exploring the small town and sitting in a small coffee shop watching football on the TV.

Day two in Matagalpa we headed to the bus station for a bus to the Selva Negra, a stretch of pine clad mountains named by the area’s German immigrants in the nineteenth century after their homeland’s Black Forest. From the bus stop it was a 1.5km walk to the hotel where we paid our entrance and picked up a trail map. As it had rained during the night the paths were pretty muddy and at times were quite steep and overgrown but the forest was beautiful. We spent 3 hours walking 7km along a selection of the the trails listening to the birds and avoiding stepping on poisonous coral snakes before the heavens opened and we had to dive into the restaurant to avoid getting drenched. Rhys had found a small army of termites had made one of his hiking boots their home (they were literally covered in them, looked like the shoe was alive) so he hiked in his Etnies and ended up on the floor more than once as a result of the lack of grip and slippery slopes. After a disappointing cup of coffee (as a working coffee finca that apparently produces some of the best export grade coffee in the country, you would expect the coffee to be amazing), and a slice of cake the rain had subsided enough for us to walk back to the main road to wait for the bus. Unfortunately the bus stop was right next to a cock fighting ring and we had to spend 30 minutes watching truck loads of men rocking up to watch the ‘sport’, hearing the cocks crowing and listening to the spectators cheering.

We returned to Estelí at lunch time the following day and checked back in to the same hotel. Having already seen everything that we wanted to in town we spent the day catching up on emails and the like.

The week ended with an early start, having been awoken by the air raid siren and hundreds of fire crackers (they are obsessed with fireworks in Central America and set them off at any time of the day and anywhere) and a taxi to a petrol station on the InterAmericana where we sat for over an hour waiting for the Ticabus to turn up. A pleasant break from chicken buses we’d booked a Ticabus coach to San Salvador as we decided to skip Honduras altogether - not only because it meant we’d have more time in Guatemala and Mexico for where we’ve been hearing rave reviews from other backpackers but because we’d also heard a ridiculous amount of scare stories about how dangerous Honduras is at the moment with people walking the streets with guns and swords. Although a lot of people are still visiting the Bay Islands, because we don’t dive and we’re planning on spending time on beaches further north we decided we’d just race through on an international bus to El Salvador. 

The border crossings were a breeze with Ticabus organising all the practicalities for a small admin fee and the 2 hours we spent driving though southern Honduras made it look stunning and somewhere we wouldn’t be against coming back to when things have settled down in years to come. 

Once in El Salvador the bus went straight to San Salvador, the capital. From the drop off point we jumped in a taxi to the hostel we’d booked on line. We’d read reviews that it was hard to find but we weren’t ready for the hour it took the cab driver to find the place bearing in mind we were armed with an address, directions and a phone number. We finally got there after dark and were glad they served food onsite and the rooms were furnished with minibars so we didn’t have to venture out.

Massive tree, Selva Negra, Matagalpa.

Somoto Canyon, near Esteli.

Us looking snazzy in our life jackets, Somoto Canyon, near Esteli.

Me star jumping into the river, Somoto Canyon, near Esteli.

Week 38 - Granada, Masaya, Leon (Nicaragua)

As the buses on Isla de Ometepe are few and far between we decided to jump on the back of a pick-up to get back to the port in Moyagalpa so we could make it to Granada before dinner time. We timed it perfectly and arrived in time to board the 11am ferry for the crossing back to San Jorge and the mainland. From there, we took a collectivo to the bus terminal/market in Rivas and onto a chicken bus for the final leg of the journey into Granada. On arrival we checked into a new hostel, whose owners we’d met on Ometepe. After saying hello to the resident monkey, we were straight in the pool to cool off. Since it was already early evening we only popped out to get our bearings and to buy hot dogs from the street stalls for dinner. Back at the hostel, Adrienne who we had met on the bus and a few people staying at out hostel sat in the bar until the early hours chatting and enjoying the rum and cokes.

The next day we were feeling a little worse for wears, we ventured out to an Irish bar, one of the most popular spots in Granada for lunch before heading back to the hostel to chill. Later that afternoon I left Rhys on the computer and headed into town to explore. Like every colonial town, the focus is the cathedral and Parque Central with colourful buildings lining the streets radiating from it. Every where you turn there are horse drawn carts decorated with an abundance of ribbons. My first stop was the Fuerte La Polvora, an 18th century fort that is a bit run down on the outside but has a peaceful little courtyard interior that you could peer into through the locked gates. My second stop was in an amazing little coffee shop opposite the Xalteva church where I whiled away a happy hour with a cappuccino and a copy of the latest issue of Monocle. Back towards the centre of town and I stopped to climb the bell tower of La Merced church only to get to the top to be deafened by the 4 o’clock bell ringing. A quick walk along the Calle La Calzada, the main street for bar and restaurants where tables and chairs spill out onto the pedestrianised road and a brief stop at the church San Francisco and I headed back to the hostel. After a quick dinner at a little local restaurant we turned in for an early night.

We had intended to spend the next day at Laguna Apoyo but unfortunately they need 4 people to run the shuttles and the other two who had signed up didn’t turn up. The cost of a taxi for two of us seemed steep so we decided on a chill day just relaxing at the hostel.

We left Granada on Saturday to head to Masaya, a little town 40 minutes away famed for its artisanal market. We checked in to a dirt cheap hostel for £4 a night for 2 people in a private room and went for a wonder around town and to check out the markets. If we were just on holiday and could bear the thought of carrying huge wooden bowls or paintings with us we could have spent a fortune but as it was we came away empty handed. Other than the artisanal market Masaya has little to offer tourists, the main market out by the bus stop is pretty dirty and confusing and after rain the pathways turned into mud tracks - you can however buy pretty much anything there should you want to.

Our second day in Masaya we were up early to catch a taxi to Volcan Masaya National Parque. From the entrance it was an easy 1.5km walk to the visitor centre where after a look at the exhibitions we arranged for a ranger to drive us the last 5km to the crater. Masaya continually emits large amounts of sulfur dioxide gas (from the active Santiago crater) and it’s quite impressive to see the smoke billowing out of the crater and up into the sky. A number of the viewpoints are currently closed after an eruption last year so we weren’t there for too long before the ranger drove us back to the entrance from where we flagged down a bus back into Masaya. Back at the bus terminal/waste land/market we jumped on another bus heading to Catarina, one of the ‘Pueblos Blancos’ - white villages so called for the white wash buildings and the white magic that used to be performed there. Catarina has a spectacular mirador overlooking the Laguna de Apoyo crater lake and to Lago Nicaragua with a number of volcanoes and mountains spreading out in the distance as far as the eye can see. Although you can walk down to the lake from here Rhys was a little under the weather and we settled for lunch at one of the restaurants overlooking the mirador. After lunch we wondered through the town which is full of craft stalls and plant nurseries, back to the main road for a bus back to Masaya. While Rhys stayed in the hostel for the rest of the afternoon I went back to the market to browse and sat in the main square people watching for a couple of hours.

We left Masaya the following day and caught a bus to Managua. From the bus terminal we jumped in a taxi across town to the shuttle bus stop for the drive to Leon. Sitting with our bags practically on our laps it was extremely uncomfortable but at least it was only an hour and a half. In Leon we got in a cycle taxi to Backpacker Street and checked in to a little family run hostel. We headed out for a quick wonder to the cathedral, the biggest in Central America and undergoing a face-lift after the most recent explosion of Cerro Negro coated it in black volcanic ash. On our way back to the hostel we bumped in to Adrienne from Granada and arranged to meet her at her hostel that evening for drinks.

The following day we booked to go volcano boarding with Bigfoot, the most well known hostel in Nicaragua and reputedly the owners of the fastest boards. The trip started with a 45 minute drive on the back of a truck though twisting dirt tracks out to Volcan Cerro Negro. Once there we began an hour long hike to the top at an elevation of 728m, stopping to peer into the crater and feel the heat of the ground. The volcano is the youngest in Nicaragua at only 160 years old and has erupted a staggering 23 times in it’s lifetime. It is a gravelly basaltic cinder cone black in colour and contrasts greatly with the surrounding verdant hillsides. The views from the top were breathtaking and you can see the Central American Volcanic Arc spreading out north to Honduras. At the top we had a quick guide on how to board before donning our orange jump suits and lining up to take it in turns to sit on our wooden plank, hold onto the rope and speed down the volcano. The experience is included on the CNN “Thrill seeker's bucket list: 50 experiences to try before you die” at number 2, second only to flying a jet plane. Now i’m not sure if it was that good but it was great fun, we didn’t come close to the 91kph record, Rhys reached the dizzy heights of 38kph and I clocked in at 41kph and it was all over before you’d really had a chance to master the technique but all the same I would highly recommend it. Back in town we enjoyed an included mojito before retiring to the shower to wash the volcanic rock out of our hair. That night we arranged to meet up with some of the people from our trip at a bar nearby and sat drinking half bottles of £2.25 rum until closing time.

View of Granada from La Merced bell tower.

The smoking crater of Volcan Masaya.

The Laguna Apoyo crater lake, outside of Masaya.

The biggest cathedral in Central America, Leon.

Hiking Cerro Negro, near Leon.

Rhys at the crater of Cerro Negro, near Leon.

Rhys in his snazzy jumpsuit ready to board Cerro Negro, near Leon.

Week 37 - San Juan del Sur, Isla Ometepe (Nicaragua)

We left San Jose early doors and walked a kilometre to the office for the bus company heading to Penas Blancas and the Nicaraguan border. 5 hours later we were at the border and had a surprisingly easy crossing despite the confusing layout and lack of signage to tell you where to go and the stories of 2 hour crossings. We made it on to a Rivas bound bus just as a fight broke out at the bus stop, wondering what Nicaragua had in store for us. After we left the border our impression of Nicaragua instantly improved with the locals shouting at us to get off the bus at a cross road to catch the San Juan del Sur bus.

San Juan del Sur, is a cute little town on the Pacific coast full of hostels, bars and surf shops. Although the beach in town is decent enough, everywhere offers transfers to the surrounding beaches where the surf is supposed to be world class - we didn’t make it out of the town. The first afternoon, after a wonder around to get our bearings, we ended up at happy hour at one of the bars right on the beach to watch the sunset, you can’t turn down $1 beers and rum and cokes. Once happy hour had finished a storm drifted in and we ended up running through the streets, shoes in hand, ‘Tom Cruise’ style, to a little curry restaurant we’d spied earlier. Back at the hostel we were happy to see the electricity had finally come on having been off all day.

The next day we’d intended to head to a nearby beach but decided instead to relax in town. Rhys stayed at the hostel to fix the computer while I wondered around town and along the beach, amazed at all the driftwood brought in by the storm and the unusual sight of people actually clearing it (this never seems to happen in South America). In the afternoon we headed up to Pelican Eyes, one of the plushiest hotels in the area where rooms were completely out of price range at upwards of $180 a night, but where they let you pay a couple of dollars to use the infinity pool with views out over the bay. An amazing storm with ridiculous thunder and lightening started just as we got in from dinner.

We left San Juan del Sur as soon as we woke to catch the chicken bus (an old American School bus, normally pimped to the nines) to Rivas. We were dropped in a frenetic market area where we ended up paying over the odds for a cab to get us to the dock in San Jorge thinking there was a ferry at 11:30. The ferry didn’t leave until 12:30. We ended up spending an hour sitting on the rickety old wooden boat waiting for it to leave. By 2pm we had docked in Moyogalpa, the main town of Isla de Ometepe.

Isla de Ometepe is Lago Nicaragua’s largest island and a bit of a backpacker hub. The island is dominated by the cones of two volcanoes, the active Volcan Concepcion in the north rising to 1,610m and the dormant Volcan Maderas in the south, standing at 1,394m. It’s an incredibly laid back and peaceful place with just one road running as a ‘figure 8’ around the two volcanoes. On arrival we negotiated a taxi to take us from the dock in the main town across to the southern, quieter side of the island, to the small village of Balgue and Finca Magdelena. The Finca is an old hacienda, converted into an organic coffee co-operative. Using our new bargaining skills picked up from Fleur we managed to get a private room for a bargain $10 a night before heading back along the 1km track from the Finca to the village to an amazing little cafe, Cafe Campestre, for a delicious organic, fresh meal and to pick up an equally yummy packed lunch for the next day. Back at the Finca we settled down to watch the mesmorising sunset over Volcan Concepcion from the veranda enjoying bargainous rum and cokes. 

We were up early again the next day to meet our compulsory guide for a hike up the verdant slopes of Volcan Maderas, the smaller of the two volcanoes on the island and supposedly the easier walk. The volcano is clothed in cloud forest filled with monkeys, birds, and super loud cicada bugs and we were lucky enough to spot a brightly coloured venomous coral snake. The hike is supposed to take 7-8 hours. We managed it in 6 ¼ hours. It took 3 hours to walk to the crater lake, a pretty steep and slippery up hill slog followed by a 10 minute downhill in to the crater. The lake was covered in cloud when we got there and was very mystical but I wouldn’t say mind blowing. We ate our sandwiches before starting the return leg which was just as difficult as the uphill since it had rained a bit and we were scrambling over muddy, slippery boulders. It was a shame that the clouds were low so our views over Volcan Concepcion and the lake were limited but all the same it was worthwhile. As we got back to the Finca a storm hit, great timing! We spent the rest of the day eating cake, drinking coffee grown in the Finca and finishing the bottle of rum from the night before. 

We’d intended to walk into the village and catch the bus back up to Santa Domingo, a little stretch of hostels lining the islands main beach. That was until we found out that buses don’t run on a Sunday. We ended up calling a taxi which for the sake of ease was worth every penny. We checked into a little loft room just as another storm hit and apart from a short walk along the beach, spent the day at the hostel with lunch at a nearby comedor.

The rains continued all of the next day and ruined our plans of renting a scooter. Rhys hung around the hostel and I only ventured out for a short walk along the road and down a footpath before realising that plastic flipflops and ankle deep mud were a bad combo.

Luckily when we woke the following day the rain had subsided, we booked in to the hostel for another night and headed out to rent a scooter for the day. It took us about an hour to get up to the main port town in the north, Moyogalpa where we stopped at a great little cafe for lunch. Since we couldn’t take the scooter along the unpaved road we turned back the way we came. We made two stops, the first at a beach/mirador, Punta Jesus Maria where a spit of sand juts out into the lake from where you can see both volcanoes. Our second stop was at the museum. We haven’t been to a museum in ages and thought it would be worth a look, if you don’t speak Spanish I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s by guided tour only and there are about 4 rooms showing the history of Nicaraguan money and then another 4 rooms with archaeological finds from the island. Next we were back on the scooter to ride around to the eastern side of the northern volcano to the second largest town, Altagracia, before heading back south to El Ojo de Agua, two outdoor swimming pools in the forest filled with thermal spring water with medicinal qualities. We didn’t have swim wear with us so only stayed long enough to dangle our legs in before heading on to El Porvenir, a hacienda where for a small fee you can walk around the grounds and admire the ancient petroglyphs, swirling patterns and stylised animals carved in the basalt rocks. We ended the day back at the cafe in Balgue for an early dinner before returning the scooter.

Rhys in the pool at Pelican Eyes Hotel, San Juan del Sur.

Sunset over Volcan Concepcion from Finca Magdelana, Isla Ometepe.

Hiking Volcan Maderas, Isla Ometepe.

Storks on Santo Domingo beach, Isla Ometepe.

Riding our scooter, Isla Ometepe.

Petroglyphs, El Porvenir, Isla Ometepe.

Week 36 - Pacuare Nature Reserve, Tortuguero, San Jose (Costa Rica)

We started the week at the north station of the Pacuare Nature Reserve, having written a lot of detail on the reserve last week I’ll concentrate on the highlights (and lowlights) in this week’s blog.

Alongside the activities I talked about last week, we also had the option of going out at 5am on the census, a walk of the beach in day light to make sure nothing was missed on night patrols, to count trails where hatchlings had hatched in the night and to check for any other activity. We went on one census in the north station and came across 4 hatched nests. A quick check of the top sand of the hatched nests (nests are about 50 – 70cm deep) for trapped hatchlings and we came across one who hadn’t made it out. He was so cute, a little dazed at first but he soon found his feet (flippers) and headed off to the sea, we named him Billy.

After 4 nights at the north station we packed our bags to head to the south station where we were due to stay for the remainder of our visit. After lunch we headed to the beach for a couple of hours to clear vines without any of the assistants bothering to join us. At 5pm we stopped work and headed to the hatchery – an area where some nests have been relocated for research purposes based on the temperature of the nests which determines the sex of the turtles. The nests were hatching and we were lucky enough to be there for the release of 13 hatchlings. They handed tiny hatchlings to us over the fence and pointed us to an area of shade where we could release them, for something so small they’re flippers were already pretty powerful and it was hard not trying not to drop them as they wiggled about. We let them go and watched as they made their way to the sea. You can’t help but laugh and smile as you see them go and getting wiped out with the first waves.

That night we’d asked to go on the 8pm patrol as all the turtles we’d seen so far had been out before midnight and the midnight shift is horrible messing with your sleep patterns. As soon as we started we noticed that the patrol was different with the assistant making constant contact with security with her torch and freaking when she saw a white light on the beach (assistants use red, poachers use white), it wasn’t until we reached the 3.5km mark where we met the patrol from the north station that we found out why. On a turtle project 30-40km along the coast an assistant had been shot by poachers while out on patrol with 4 foreigners. The assistants were shocked that we’d been kept in the dark and not having all the facts at our disposal we were angry and nervous about being on the beach. Fleur asked to be taken back to the station having had a bad experience in Colombia and we started back. Just when you least want it, we stumbled across a turtle and all agreed to stay with her until she was back in the sea. For an hour we all forgot about the shooting and were mesmerised by the turtle.

On the way back we bumped into Alvaro who was doing the midnight shift alone, closely followed by a security guard (where was our security guard?) and asked him why we weren’t told, he said we’d talk tomorrow and off we went to sleep on it. 

The next morning we had a meeting with Alvaro and Isabel after breakfast. We’d made up our minds that we wanted to leave, more because we didn’t want to create an awkward atmosphere than because we felt unsafe. Once we had all the facts I think me and Rhys would have gone on patrol anyway, the guy was singled out because he was petitioning for more police presence on his beach to stop poaching, it wasn’t a random shooting. The press release talks about drugs traffickers being unhappy that usually deserted beaches were being patrolled by environmentalists and that suggests that our beach could also have been at risk of attack. We were shocked that the team at the reserve had made the decision not to tell us, giving the reason that they wanted to keep things as normal as possible having spoken to the coast guard and the police and deemed there to be no risk – that doesn’t explain the increased security presence on the patrols that night, the reduced number of patrols (3 instead of 5) and the decision not to let anyone patrol alone! I am sure the Pacuare Reserve is a safe place for volunteers, it doesn’t border a town and access is difficult because the waves crash at the shore. There is a constant security guard presence watching the sea for boats and the poachers know this and no poachers have been seen on the beach at all this season – before the reserve was established, 98% of eggs were poached, now only 2% are poached. Poachers are far more likely to go to the beaches that can be accessed easily and where the patrls are understaffed. Our decision to leave the reserve was more based upon the way we’d been treated and not wanting to ruin such an amazing week by spending 2 days being awkward.

We caught a boat just before lunch for the 2 hour journey along the canal to Tortuguero. The boat trip was beautiful, winding through the waterways (which are more like murky rivers than British canals) surrounded by rainforest, spotting monkeys and birds along the way. The majority of the journey was actually through the Parque Nacional Tortuguero, an area which protects not only the canal and the surrounding forest but the stretch of beach that runs parallel and which is an important green turtle nesting site (Tortuguero translated means “Turtle Place”). The village itself was incredibly peaceful and despite it’s isolation with no road access (and so no cars) on a spit of land between the sea and the canal, it’s one of Costa Rica’s most popular spots, mainly because of the spectacular biodiversity. We were glad to be there before the green turtle season kicked in which meant the visitor numbers weren’t so high and it was quite peaceful.

After settling in to a hostel on the sea front with a great communal veranda (Fleur is amazing at bargaining the price down!) we headed for a beer by the canal before drinks at the hostel.

The next morning we were up at the crack of dawn to meet our guide, Castor, for a 3 hour canoe tour of the canals. There were 8 of us in the boat and only 4 oars so we had to take it in turns rowing while Castor steered us around the canals pointing out monkeys, Jesus Christ Lizards (they can actually walk on water!), caiman and lots and lots of birds. Back on dry land we had a nap before heading back into the National Park to walk the land trail along the coast. It wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as Cahuita but was full of lizards of all different shapes and sizes - you’d be upset if you paid your $10 entrance and only did the walk but it was worth it with the canoe trip in the morning.

As we got back to the hostel we found Fleur in a bad way, something had gone in her eye and scratched her cornea and James ended up calling 911 and rushing her back to the mainland to meet an ambulance to get her to a clinic - she’s on the mend now. 

We’d intended to leave the next day but decided to have a chill day, Rhys stayed at the hostel and I only ventured out to buy cake and browse the souvenir shops (not that we’re actually buying any souvenirs, souvenirs = more weight). James and Fleur got back early evening as we were enjoying a glass of wine on the veranda and joined us for cards and take out dinner. After spending the last month traveling on and off together and having shared the once in a lifetime turtle reserve experience it was sad to be saying bye to Fleur and James, although we hope that they’ll get bored with Costa Rica and head up to Nicaragua sooner than planned to catch us up.

We ended the week in San Jose having left Tortuguero on a boat to La Pavona docks an hour away and catching a bus to Cariari and another bus in to San Jose. Arriving late afternoon we jumped in a cab to the hostel I stayed at last time I was here with Mum - we stayed in the room next door, happy memories! (Miss you mum). Since San Jose doesn’t have much to offer and a storm was just starting we decided to make for KFC and then chill watching a movie in the hostel.

Hatchlings heading for the sea, Pacuare Nature Reserve.

Heron in Tortuguero National Park.

Canoeing in Tortuguero National Park.

Adult leatherback turtle heading back to the sea, Pacuare Nature Reserve.

Week 35 - Cahuita, Pacuare Nature Reserve (Costa Rica)

We spent the first 4 nights of the week in Cahuita as we had time to kill while waiting for our volunteer placement at a turtle reserve to start. Cahuita is a little village on the Caribbean coast with a small but beautiful national park. The village itself is quieter and more untouched than Puerto Viejo and most businesses are still owned by locals instead of being overrun by expats.

The first full day in Cahuita we decided to head into the national park and walk the first 3.5km of the 8.3km trail (the only trail) that wound its way through the jungle parallel to the beach before cutting inland to the ranger station at the northern entrance. After 3.5km we reached Punta Cahuita, the peninsula and sat and ate our picnic there while a monkey tried to steal our crisps. On the way back down the trail we came across one of the rangers who pointed out racoons and snakes, so obvious when they point them out but invisible to us before hand. We bumped in to James and Fleur and sat on the beach for a bit before heading back into town for beers on the waterfront.

After moving hostels to a much nicer place with a lovely little tropical garden area, we headed into the national park again the next day (unlike the high entry fees to parks in the rest of Costa Rica, this one only required a small donation so we could go in and out as we pleased). The aim of the day was to walk the full 8.3km trail. Again we bumped into Fleur and James who had also come across a ranger and we joined them for a small tip. The ranger was incredible pointing out sloths, snakes, hummingbird nests, bats and all manner of other creatures every 2 metres along the path. We joined them for the first part of the walk to the river crossing where the ranger left us and the four of us continued to Punta Cahuita and onwards to the northern entrance. The trail was an easy walk, very wide and flat and after another picnic on the beach near the end of the trail we retraced our footsteps, leaving James and Fleur on a deserted beach, back into town. 

The following day Rhys had a computer day and stayed in the hostel enjoying the peace of the garden. After lunch I headed back to the park for a short walk to the river crossing to see if I could spot a yellow pit viper without the help of a ranger (no luck) and to chill on the beach with a book to make the most of the sun.

Our last day the weather had turned and it was too overcast to be a beach day. Instead we stayed at the hostel watching TV and organising things so we were ready for our week at the turtle reserve. We ventured out for dinner in the village and to marvel at the motorcycle club in town for a party, it was like a scene out of Sons of Anarchy.

At 9am we were at the bus station to meet with James and Fleur for a bus to Limon, the largest town in the area and not somewhere that you’d want to stick around. After asking around for a bus to Matina and realising it was too late for our connecting boat we ended up haggling with a taxi to take us all the way to the port just outside Matina. We got there early and ate our sandwiches in a little lean-to shack on the edge of the canal waiting for the boat. The boat arrived spot on time and we started the 30 minute journey to the Pacuare Nature Reserve where we’d be spending the next 8 nights.

The reserve was established by the Endangered Wildlife Trust, a British charity and covers 1,050 hectares of tropical rainforest. The land was acquired 25 years ago and stretches for 6km along the Caribbean coast sandwiched between the beach and the canal. The stretch of beach is the most important nesting ground for Leatherback turtles in Costa Rica. The reserve has two stations, a large station in the south that has facilities for high paying guests, school and other groups and a smaller station in the north that is much quieter and more ‘rustic’ with no internet access and limited electricity in the kitchen area. We were so impressed with the set up when we arrived, the location was beautiful, right on the beach surrounded by lush forest complete with ocelots and a jaguar and the rooms were clean and fresh. The food was delicious and fresh, although mostly vegetarian and by the end of it we were completely sick of eating beans and rice for three meals a day. After a night in the south station to settle in we were off to the north station for 4 nights after which we were due to return to the south station for our last 3 nights (we actually left two days early but I’ll leave that saga for next week’s blog).

The day to day running of the reserve is left to the two biologists, Alvaro and Isabel with Jess looking after logistics with a number of research assistants at each of the stations. Our daily activities were pretty much structured around meal times, breakfast at 9am, lunch at 1pm and dinner at 6pm. By far the most important activity was the night time beach patrols.  

The north station had two shifts, one at 8pm and one at midnight, each running for 4 hours and involving walking up and down 2.5km of wet sand in the pitch black trying not to trip over drift wood. Me and Rhys patrolled together with an assistant, we went on one midnight shift and one 8pm shift at north station and we were lucky enough to come across four turtles. The first thing you see is the tracks up the beach, like a small tractor has emerged from the sea. Following the tracks you get to the turtle who goes through a process that can take up to 2 hours, digging a body pit, excavating a nest, laying the eggs filling in the hole and camouflaging the site. When the turtle is laying her eggs she goes into a trance and doesn’t notice that you’re there which gives you time to note down her tag number (and tag her if she doesn't have one), measure her length and breadth (which involves straddling her – not easy when their shells are over a metre wide and are a metre and a half long), check for injuries and tumours and last of all count the eggs and triangulate the nest position. The last job once the turtle has made it back to the sea is to cover her tracks, they make such a mess and it’s easy for poachers to see from the sea so you have to try and disguise it a bit which involves throwing and moving a lot of sand about in the dark, fighting off sandflies. 

Watching a turtle of that size was an amazing once in a lifetime experience. They’re so prehistoric looking and so powerful and determined. Leatherbacks are the largest living turtles and are critically endangered with poachers after both their eggs and meat. Adults average 1–1.75 m in carapace length, 1.83–2.2 m in total length and weigh 250 to 700 kg. The males never come ashore again one they reach the sea the first time and the females come back to land to lay every 10 days during the season, although not always to the same stretch of coast. They subsist almost entirely on jellyfish (I can’t find anywhere to support Alvaro’s claim that they only eat jellyfish gonads!!) and very little is known about their early years, their lifespan or statistics on hatchling survival.

Other than the evening patrols our jobs as volunteers ranged from sorting out the recycling to clearing driftwood and vines from the beach to make it easier for hatchlings to reach the sea. We helped to measure cliffs to see how the beach was changing for someone’s research project, triangulated nests that were due to hatch, cleaned equipment, watched assistants relocate nests that were two near to the sea and excavate nests that had hatched earlier in the week (or that the dog had dug up) and washed the buildings. The day time jobs weren’t difficult and barely took any time, generally we did less than 2 hours of work and spent the rest of the time playing cards, swimming in the sea, paddling the boat across the canal for a cold drink at the bar (the only building for miles around), reading and watching/playing volleyball.

Howler monkey in Cahuita National Park.

Cricket, Cahuita National Park.

Walking in Cahuita National Park with James and Fleur.

Coati, Cahuita National Park.

Boat trip to Pacuare Nature Reserve.

James cooling down in the sea, Pacuare Nature Reserve.

Sadie relocating a nest, Pacuare Nature Reserve.

Billy the hatchling Leatherback Turtle, Pacuare Nature Reserve.

The boys playing volleyball.  Pacuare Nature Reserve.

Adult leatherback turtle, Pacuare Nature Reserve.

Week 34 - Bocas, Puerto Viejo, Cahuita (Panama, Costa Rica)

Taking a gamble with the weather we decided to start the week with a boat trip.  The first stop was at Dolphin Bay, an area with a labyrinth of shallow channels formed by the mangroves.  The Archipelago of Bocas del Toro is home to a semi-permanent population of Bottlenose dolphins and you are pretty much guaranteed to see them.  After watching for a while the boat continued to Coral Cay where there was a cluster of restaurants built on wooden stilts over the water.  As the best snorkelling spot in Bocas, we were due to return there later for lunch and snorkel time but when we headed further out to try to reach the beaches at Zapatillas Cays the rain started, we were drenched and the waves were choppy.  Our captain made the decision to snorkel now and try the beach again later.  With the rain still hammering down we jumped into the sea, grateful for the bath temperature water.  There was an abundance of tropical fish, coral heads and colourful sponges and the waters were pretty calm and clear considering the weather.  After lunch the rain stopped and we tried again to reach Zapatillas Cays.  Located in Bastimentos National Marine Park, the Zapatillas Islands are generally considered the most beautiful islands of the Bocas del Toro Archipelago and they were pretty but nothing compared to the San Blas.  We walked a lap of the island and chilled on the beach before heading back to Bocas Town. 

That night we had arranged to meet up with a group of people from the trip and after a drink in the sports bar, we caught a boat to Isla Carenero, an island 200m from the island we stayed on where there is a bar with ‘legendary’ Wednesday night parties.  The bar had been described to us as an ‘Adults playground’ and I was expecting a bit more than a trampoline and sea swings.  Nevertheless we had a good night, ran in to Roland who we had met in San Blas and headed back to the hostel a little worse for wears.

We woke up and decided to move to another island in the Archipelago – Isla Bastimentos, a short water taxi trip away.  I immediately liked it more than Bocas Town, it was like being in a little village, away from all the tour companies and restaurants.  We checked in to a little wooden cabin in Beverly’s Hill and as it was raining we settled on the veranda to watch movies on the laptop for the rest of the day stopping only to play with the old man dog and the puppy.

The rain seemed to be holding off the next day so we decided to walk from the village to Red Frog Beach on the other side of the island.  We got halfway, to the highest point of the island and the weather turned.  Luckily there was a little eco-café at the top where we stopped for mocha’s and chocolate brownie.  With the rain and the slippery muddy tracks we gave up and headed back to the cabin for more TV. 

If we hadn’t already seen several of the famous red poison dart frogs of Red Frog Beach around our hostel and at the café we may have stayed another day but since it was looking like rain again we decided it was time to head north to Costa Rica.  We caught a boat back to Boca’s Town and another boat from there to Almirante.  We were planning on taking local buses to the border but there were mini-bus shuttles that made the journey easier.  We’re so glad we took the mini-bus as halfway we stopped and the driver jumped out to pick up a sloth and move him out of the way of the road – seeing a wild sloth that close up was incredible.  The border was easy, we’d been warned we needed to show our exit ticket and were not carrying anything to show them but when the immigration guy asked Rhys for his ticket he acted dumb and just kept saying “ten, ten” until he was waved through, I told him we had a flight from Mexico and was also waved through, happy days.  Once in Costa Rica we caught a bus to Puerto Viejo, a backpacker beach resort full of hippy boutique shops, hostels and restaurants.  We checked in to a hostel with a huge room and hot water (!!) and had a walk around town to orientate ourselves.

Although the weather forecast was predicting storms we decided to risk it and hire bikes for the day to cycle the 12km to Manzanillo recommended by the ‘Rough Guide’ as one of the most beautiful stretches of coastline in the country.  We cycled to the end point, the Refugio Nacional de Vida Silvestre Gandoca-Manzanillo and chained the bikes to a tree to hike through the park to one of the small bays for our picnic lunch.  We’d hoped to snorkel but the waves were rough so we entertained ourselves building a sand castle and watching the surfers.  On the way back to Puerto Viejo we stopped at a little eco-café near Playa Chiquita for ginger lemonade before heading back in to town.

The next day we hired the bikes again and cycled along the same route but stopped after about 8km at Punta Uva.  We ate lunch on the beach before walking through the jungle up to a mirador to discover a far nicer beach on the other side.  We decided to go back for the bikes and head over to the second beach where we snorkelled around one of Costa Ricas last few coral reefs.  It was a shame the sea was quite choppy as visibility was poor and it was tiring swimming against the waves.  After snorkelling we headed back to our hostel in Puerto Viejo.

On Tuesday we decided to catch the bus to the next town along, Cahuita.  It’s far smaller than Puerto Viejo with far less tourists, just a little village with dirt roads bordering the Parque Nacional Cahuita.  We spent the morning running around Puerto Viejo trying to buy new torches so we didn’t get to Cahuita until after midday.  We checked into a hostel and explored the village and stretch to Playa Negra before turning in for the night.  

Red Dart Frog in our hostel garden, Isla Bastimentos.

Sloth on the road from Almirante to the Costa Rican border.

Manzanillo National Park.

Our sandfort, Manzanillo National Park (second line of defence most noteworthy).

Rhys rocking the bike, Puerto Viejo/Manzanillo.