El Salvador - Sweet Sunrises at Sky and Sea

 February 17-18

Hello everyone!

Half-term meant an opportunity to explore further than normal. A chance to revisit a favourite…

Conchagua

…and discover somewhere new.

Isla Zacatillo

El Salvador is a relatively small place - the smallest country in Central America, and genuinely almost the size of Wales - which can seem a lot bigger when stuck in a long traffic jam. It makes the eastern side of the country a bit less accessible, meaning we haven’t ventured there too often.

The red dot is Conchagua, and the blue dot is Isla Zacatillo

Stunning sunrise view of the Golfo de Fonseca from Isla Zacatillo 

At its most southeasterly point, El Salvador has an inactive volcano. Nothing particularly noteworthy about that; there are many such mounds in the country. 

Conchagua is actually two peaks - this is the one closer
to the gulf, and you camp on the one behind it

Conchagua means 'flying jaguar'
in the Lenca language

What it possesses, however, is a stunning view over the Golfo de Fonseca, a gulf which is bordered by three countries and which contains many islands. 

Looking at the city of La Union and then
Honduras from the top of Conchagua

The nearest island is called Conchaguita

The added reason for this being one of my favourite places in El Salvador is the fact that you can camp at the top, allowing you to see the sun set over the Pacific Ocean before waking up to the sun rising over the land of Honduras or Nicaragua (depending on time of year) in the early morning. Hannah and I did this once before in December 2022.

Camping became quite windy!

Sunrise in 2022

Sunrise in 2026

Some people attempt to hike to the summit, which stands almost 1200 metres above the sea you can see almost immediately below. Travelling with Mini and Maxi - a challenge in itself at the best of times - meant that we were never going to attempt this. Though capable of walking long distances (they have scaled El Salvador’s highest mountain before), they are also capable of deciding a walk ends after 100 metres.

Excited that they're not having to walk

The place translates as 'Spirit of the Mountain', as some
believe that there is a spirit that still lives here

The other way up without a very good 4x4 car (RIP) is to catch a bus from outside a Chinese restaurant in La Union, El Salvador’s final city to the east. Our hope was that going on a Tuesday would reduce the number of people, giving us a bit more space.

The relatively spacious car before getting on the bus

It was fewer tents than last time, but that was on a Saturday night

We were very wrong. 22 going up, more than the last time we went in 2022. I think this is due to three reasons. Firstly, in spite of whether you agree or not with the methods used, El Salvador has become a much safer and more popular place to visit. Secondly, connected to this, Conchagua was featured on the most recent BBC series of Celebrity Race Across the World. Finally, British citizens now need visas for Honduras, meaning backpackers moving through Central America often miss it and go straight from El Salvador to Nicaragua. That’s done from a morning boat that leaves La Union, so camping up Conchagua is seen as a nice option for a final night in the Land of Volcanoes.

Internet picture of Anita and her dad atop Conchagua in season 3

This is not the boat to Nicaragua - it's just a tenuous link
to showing an adorable picture of Maxi on a kayak

Our bus was thus quite full. Though a few of these were friends who were also camping up top, the bus was also populated by six soldiers in full regalia with large guns. One of them, in a friendly way, kept trying to pet the dogs. I’m surprised his fingers survived. What didn’t survive were some of the eggs that they were bringing to the peak. One broke early on and streamed over our coolbox. We had a good laugh about it, in between dodging branches and mangoes that were falling from them.

We think the soldiers were going up for a general activity
or shift swap, rather than due to any threat

We brought a lot of stuff for one night - you can rent
camping gear up here but we have our own

As it has become more popular, some new elements have changed at the top. There is a small temple honouring the Lenca tribe that populated the area before the Spanish arrival, and a path that leads to a sunset point.

The Lenca are the largest tribal group in next door Honduras -
their population in both countries is estimated to be 450,000  

Sunset from Conchagua

We had a lovely time up at the top, seeing incredible stars during the night. I was awake because two German speakers in their early twenties hadn’t learnt how to whisper. They also decided that farting loudly at 3am was worthy of deep laughs. I was probably like that once.

As the temperature dropped and wind picked up,
some of us resorted to tequila to stay warm

I still haven't worked out taking star pictures - this is an internet
image that will give you an idea of the magic carpet we saw above us

We woke up for a beautiful sunrise. Different to what we had in 2022, a slightly milkier colour, but just as spectacular. 

The clouds made it more atmospheric

The Sun peeking up over what I think is Honduras

What makes Conchagua a bit different is the gulf below, with its islands scattered within. The new element of this adventure, recommended by a Salvadorean colleague, was staying on one of them: Isla Zacatillo. 

Zacatillo's main beach at low tide

We stayed in what looked like one of two hotels on the beach

Being one of the closest to the mainland, it’s actually quite hard to see from the top of Conchagua. However, a 15 minute boat ride takes you to the eastern side of Zacatillo, where there is a small beach lined with…well, a couple of hotels and restaurants, and not much else.

Mini loves a boat ride - Zacatillo is less than 10 km from the mainland

This island belongs to El Salvador, but many are either owned
by the other two nations around the gulf or are contested

I’m not spinning that as a negative. The island itself, El Salvador’s second biggest, only has about 2,000 inhabitants. That means that even its ‘busy’ beach was peaceful and wasn’t particularly populated, allowing us to walk the dogs around.

Being tidal, the beach changed from being
enormous when we arrived to tiny later in the day

This wasn't the main beach, but others
like this were uninhabited and lovely

One of the things Mini and Maxi seem to enjoy of late is being on the water. We went for two paddles, one in the blazing heat of the afternoon and the other just after another stunning sunrise. Having massive FOMO, Mini loves to leap and swim between our paddleboard and kayak, swallowing a ton of water in the process. It thus wasn’t surprising to see her immediately vomit as soon as we finished our morning paddle.

Conchagua is directly behind Hannah's head

Mini prepping her leap to the paddleboard

I feel that they want to develop the island as a tourism spot. I have seen a day trip advertised online before, and most of the people who we saw in the afternoon had come on a boat and left before the sun set. The main beach itself had a strange mix of ongoing construction projects, such as the pier, and old buildings that were in disrepair.

A group of daytrippers getting their return boat to the mainland

Fish was very much dish of the day

A Boca Juniors bar, apparently - like
the team, it's seen better days...

Both Conchagua and Isla Zacatillo (its sunrise is the video below) were lovely places in their own right. Very different temperatures, very different experiences, but both showing off the natural beauty of El Salvador. We think the dogs appreciated it…

Enjoying the warmth up Conchagua before the wind picked up

Some didn't appreciate the sunrise as much as others...

Isla Zacatillo

Maxi deciding that warmth trumped a sunrise...

...whilst Mini looks like she's plotting world domination...

Love you all,

Matt

El Salvador - A volcano in a volcano…

 February 7

Hello everyone!

The Land of Volcanoes, one of El Salvador’s self-titled nicknames, has a wide variety of them throughout the country. One of them, with a bit of effort, you can stand…in…

Sitting in El Boquerón

Standing on Boqueróncito

I live in the shadow of one of these large volcanoes: San Salvador Volcano. It’s rarely called that, instead being known by its popular name of El Boquerón, meaning ‘big mouth’ (Google Translate actually says it’s anchovy but…not this boqueron!). It looms large over Santa Tecla, where I live, and I see it every day when arriving at work.

The volcano is north of Santa Tecla and northwest of San Salvador

The volcano seen from school

In spite of it being so close, I don’t head up the volcano that often. I went to the top in my first week of living here, back in 2022. I’ve gone up the higher side once to its tip, called Picacho, on a hike, and to the top of the crater itself one more time as part of a trail run. Other than that, it’s something I’ve looked up to rather than down into.

Up at the top in August 2022

At the top of Picacho in October 2022

Of course, when you look into most volcanoes, you may be expecting to see bubbling magma and fissures of steam. In El Salvador, it’s not uncommon to be looking at a beautiful crater lake. El Boquerón apparently had a lake in it until its last eruption in 1917.

Mum looking into Ilamatepec - Santa Ana Volcano - in 2024

Maxi looking slightly stressed in a crater lake at Ilopango

What you’re probably not expecting to see is a second crater. A smaller crater, hence the name Boqueróncito (the suffix -cito is used to add that something is small and often cute, like a small coffee sometimes being called a cafécito). But that brown mound, over 550 metres below the crater’s rim, is another cone with another crater.

The top of the original crater is over 1800 metres above sea level

The little crater was formed after the 1917 eruption

Looks interesting from up high. What I discovered early on after moving here is that, with the right people, you can hike into the volcano to stand in Boqueróncito. One of those people was Rudolf, the man who led my hike up Picacho. That hike was supposed to include going into the Boquerón crater, but we didn’t get to as others in the group couldn’t keep pace. This time was going to be different. We would head into the volcano.

I don't think doing this is illegal - I'm not sure how legal it is, though...

Rudolf with our group at the top of the volcano

So it was that eleven of us joined him a little after 6:30am on a Saturday morning to descend into the crater of El Boquerón. A short walk took us to the rim, which has a circumference of about 5 kilometres. We followed that path for a little while before turning right. Turning down.

The positioning of the route meant that
the sun was rising on the other side

Starting our descent

The start was easy enough, with a seemingly well-worn dusty path covered by fallen leaves and branches. This changed soon after, with the path turning into rocks and requiring us to start holding on to tree roots to secure us. Health and safety officers in the UK would have had a heart attack.

The fertile volcanic soil has meant that a
plethora of trees have grown inside the crater

I think the yellow caution tape is actually used to show the route down

They may have spontaneously combusted at a section roughly halfway down the crater wall. I hadn’t done a lot of research, so hadn’t expected a rope to be brought out. Holding the rope with the left hand, we then had to manoeuvre around a boulder - through a tree - before sliding down another root. I didn’t realise how high this particular part was when reaching down with my left leg, leaving my right foot up towards head height. Good stretch.

How it starts...

...and how it ends.

When obvious, the path became a bit slippery from the mass of dust that hadn’t been washed away due to it being our dry season. Hands got increasingly dirty as we navigated down towards the bottom.

My watch was playing up a bit, but I believe it when it said
that this kilometre had an average of a -22% gradient

Lots of careful steps required!

About two-and-a-half hours after starting, we suddenly came to an opening and were surrounded by tall, yellow, straw-like grass. We were in the crater itself. 

Suddenly felt warm at this point - the sun,
not an imminent eruption from below

This is the other side of the crater

Of course, getting into Boqueróncito would involve climbing up the side of that particular cone. At 37 metres, it’s not that tall, so soon enough, we were on our second crater rim of the day. Much yellower than it looks from the top!

Some of the grass was very high as well as yellow!

Hiking down into the little crater - the path was mainly
made of loose rock with occasional lava remnants

It’s impossible to see from the very top, but there are painted white stones inside the baby crater, which are often manipulated by successful hikers to spell something. Hilariously, when we arrived we found that they already spelled out the name of one of our group members. Once we had headed into the crater, we changed it to do a bit of school advertising.

General consensus was that our A could have been better 

This plastic tube checks for seismic activity below -
important, as I've been told that El Boquerón erupts
roughly every 100 years...and it's been 108... 

After a much-needed snack and stop in the shade, we headed back the same way which we had come down. I found this much easier and quicker, with a little bit of rock climbing added in. I’m thankful that I didn’t suffer from the new Spanish word I learnt today: one of our group got ‘calambre’: cramp.

Our guide leading us uphill

Some rock scrambling was needed

In total, our hike lasted a little under six hours. Returning to the top a little sore, rather dusty and very glad that I had managed to do this hike before leaving El Salvador. It’s not every day that you can say you’ve stood inside a volcano!

Standing at one of the lowest points in El Boquerón

A cool way to spend a Saturday morning!

Our team of 11

Love you all,

Matt