Cartago: In The Shadow Of Irazu

Our arrangements for the journey from Tortuguero to our next base are a bit on the sketchy side. The instructions are to be down at the riverside at 8.30am and ask for Kendall, who will take us in his boat to the nearest point where the road meets the river, at La Pavona one hour’s ride away, where we are to ask for a man named Robert, who will drive us to San Jose. After that we have to find the bus to Cartago.

At precisely 8.30 a man in a blue polo shirt approaches us saying “La Pavona?”. He isn’t Kendall but he knows which is our boat. Later, as the boat berths on the muddy shingle at La Pavona, a guy helps to pull the boat ashore. “Robert?” we ask, and he points to a guy waving an orange sash and smiling. Well, that was all rather easy.

The trip in the low slung boat through the jungle rivers is…errr…interesting. All twelve passenger seats are taken, each passenger has a backpack to add to the weight, and animated discussions leave us with the distinct impression that the “driver” wasn’t expecting a full load. 

On our trip to get to Tortuguero the other day, with only a handful of passengers, we had slalomed and tilted our way around obstacles and bends in a way that had us clinging to the sides. There is certainly none of that today, as the “driver” has to slow right down to negotiate such things, even cutting the engine to cross the wake of other boats and taking it very steady in places where the river was at low level and flowing quickly. He is evidently very conscious of the heavy load. Knowing he is so wary is actually way more scary than the slaloming and tilting of the first journey. And no, there aren’t any life jackets on board.

Alighting from the bus in the city of Cartago, we can instantly feel the difference in temperature, the air is fresh despite bright sunshine. We are 4,700 feet higher now and by evening there is a mountain chill which we haven’t felt since Santa Elena several weeks ago. 

Cartago, described in the guide books as “a dull functional city with only two sights of note”, was Costa Rica’s capital for 250 years until usurped by San Jose  after a bloody battle in 1823. Our first sortie into the city reinforces that guide book opinion as we find little of interest and even less to excite the tastebuds, in fact the only restaurants we spot are of the chain and fast food variety, or are hidden behind clamped shut roller shutters. Unbelievably, we end up with a bowl of pasta in a Pizza Hut – absolutely unheard of!!

If Cartago does have only two noteworthy sights then they are both pretty impressive, particularly the Basilica de Los Angeles, Costa Rica’s most important religious site. This imposing white building, beautiful both inside and out, is the final destination for pilgrims from across the country and further afield, many completing the section from San Jose on foot and the final few hundred yards on hands and knees.

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According to legend the Basilica was built on the site of the discovery of a black madonna – La Negrita – which, despite several attempts to move it, would keep mysteriously returning to the same location, enough of a divine sign for the church to be built on the spot. La Negrita has subsequently remained unharmed through earthquakes, wars, volcanic eruptions and everything else thrown in her direction.

The second site is known locally as “Las Ruinas” and is right in the city centre adjacent to Plaza Mayor. These “ruins” are the exterior walls of what would have been a sizeable church, now surrounding a beautifully kept garden which is a haven of peace in the heart of a noisy city. Except these aren’t really ruins at all – the truth is that construction of the church has never been completed, with multiple attempts since the first one in 1575 each being thwarted by earthquakes. The last attempt was finally abandoned in 1910.

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During daylight hours, the walls are majestic and the gardens peaceful and tidy. By night the whole incomplete structure appears more eerie- little wonder then that local folklore speaks of the ghost of a headless monk roaming the grounds on misty nights.

So why have we headed to a city with a reputation for being dull? Well, partly because we wanted our Costa Rica experience to include seeing ordinary life in an ordinary place, and partly to use it as a launch pad to visit the mighty Irazu volcano.

Cartago’s biggest redeeming feature is probably its location, for each time you get tired of the sight of retail shops and fast food outlets, you just gaze up above the concrete and suck up the mountain views. Lofty mountains scrape the clouds on all sides of the city and pose in reflective glory rather than loom with menace. Amongst these majestic sights is Irazu, Costa Rica’s largest and highest active volcano, goading all-comers to take the trouble to come and see her power.

Despite being easily visible, it’s 31km by road from the city centre, such is the winding nature of the continuously steep journey. We arrange a ride to the park entrance and then hike the rest of the way, to a level above and looking down into the two giant craters within this mighty volcano. 

The sights are absolutely breathtaking, not least because we are so completely above the clouds, looking down on not just these colossal craters but on the day’s entire cloud cover. With no exaggeration, we are above all of the clouds. Only blue sky is above. Unfortunately for us today, the water levels in the principal crater are too low to see the famed turquoise lake, but the views nevertheless are absolutely magnificent.

Climbing to the Irazu summit, 3,427 metres (over 11,000 feet) above sea level, the air is cold, the wind biting when it blows, yet the sun’s rays are powerful. We suppose that being 3,427 metres up and this close to the equator, it’s probably the closest we’ve ever been to the sun, on foot anyway, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that our faces get just a little bit singed despite the cold. 

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Even up here the vegetation is still lush; very different from the tropical scenes we’ve got used to, but colourful and varied and sometimes in crazily oversized form. Hummingbirds, ever present throughout our five weeks in Costa Rica, are still around, even up here, darting between blooms.

As the bus ambles back down the steep roadways, it seems an age before we drop below the cloud cover. Workers wrapped in heavy clothing toil in the fields full of thriving vegetable plants in this fertile volcanic soil, trailers laden with onions and potatoes move slowly downhill, children in overcoats run around school playgrounds. Just a short time later we are in the hot afternoon sun of central Cartago.

Evenings are chilly here though, even in the city, as the mountain air blows cold winds through the grids of streets. We have in the end found decent restaurants, though not many, Cartago wouldn’t in our book win any foodie awards.

Inside Cartago’s coolest restaurant…….

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There’s not much else to do here; it’s time to move on to our next destination.