San Ramon/Sarchi, March 25/26th 1960
The Panamerican Highway leaves the coast in Esparta, and - running almost rectangularly to its former course - ascends slowly at the same time. Starting at about 200 m above sea level the road reaches in the San Ramon district more or less 1600 m. But this mountain range doesn't has any jagged rocks, the mountain tops are mostly rounded and covered with grass. ("The next morning we entered an open, rolling and undulating country ... "(Stephens). Once in a while I see scattered groups of trees with pretty haciendas in between, the whole thing very peaceful. The houses look well-kept, very rarely I pass the well-known, poverty-stricken huts which I saw in the other Central American countries.

Costa Rica is more well-to-do than its neighbours. Nowadays hardly any Indios descending from of the original inhabitants are left. Only descendants of the Spanish conquerers and European immigrants live here. Before San Ramon a coffee cultivation district begins.
(Coffee, cultivated in Costa Rica mostly in the middle altitudes between 900 and 1200 m above sea level, grows especially well at the dry, Pacific side of the Central Plateau on black-brown humus top soil formed by volcanic ashes. )
I stay overnight in San Ramon and then in the not to far away Sarchi.

Alajuela, March 27th 1960
From Sarchi I ride on to Alajuela, my first city in Costa Rica which is a bit larger than the others. There hasn't much changed since Stephens stayed in Costa Rica.
("There are four cities in Costa Rica, all of which lie within the space of fifteen leagues; (Alajuela, San José, Herida and Cartago.) yet each has a different climate and different productions. The plaza (in Alajuela) was beautifully situated, and the church, the cabildo and the houses fronting it were handsome. The latter were long and low, with broad piazzas and large windows, and balconies made of wooden bars.")

Alajuela was founded during the colonial area. From afar I can already see the mighty dome of its cathedral. It is warm in the city. I have some difficulties in finding quarters for the two of us, that is Platero and myself, because most of the hotels don't have a patio. But one hotel possesses a rather large backyard and there is even plenty of grass growing in it. There is only one problem - just a very narrow passage leads to this 'horses paradise'. When I attempt to make Platero pass through it, he gets stuck at first! With combined forces the caballito is pushed into the yard at last, but a piece of his hindleg is grazed in the process ...

From the window of my room I overlook the yard. There is nothing there that could possibly be colonial, only corrugated sheet iron can be seen 'en masse' But in the distance the impressive Cordillera Central rises and beautifies the desolate outlook. Astonishingly the same copse-likegrass-tufts, as seen on top of the Cerro Calel in Guatemala, are growing here too. Platero disdains the 'normal' grass and feeds only on the tufts.

San José, March 28th 1960
Henceforth the capital isn't very far away any more. The German couple in El Salvador had told me, that the embassy was situated at the northwestern outskirts of the town, and I am coming from this direction. The road passes an airfield, and soon after that the Paseo Colon turns off on the left. Just as I arrive at the front of the embassy building, Mrs. B. happens to look out of a window! She is glad, that I have managed it up to here. For the time being, Platero is put into the flowergarden, and I drive home with her for lunch. The family has rented an old, spacious house and furnished it nicely. It lies amidst a coffee finca on an elevation, but the family has nothing to do with the running of the finca. The suburb here is called Chaparrón en San Pedro Lourdes. The embassy lies exactly opposite, that means within 8 km from here at the other side of the city. I habe no choice - in the afternoon I have to ride with Platero through the capital, something I have always steered clear of up to now. Mrs. B. drives slowly ahead with the car and I follow her. People stare at me as if they were looking at the eighth wonder of the world. Must have been a long time that somebody has been riding through
                                                                          San José in Costa Rica ...

San José, March 29th-May 6th 1960
San José lies at 1180 m above sea level on the Meseta Central - the central plateau. This high valley, measuring about 65 km in length and 30 km in width is in every respect the centre of Costa Rica. The distances from the Meseta to the frontiers of Nicaragua as well as Panama are nearly identical, only that the Atlantic is a bit further away than the Pacific. The area of the Meseta Central is, owing to the volcano ashes, the most fertil and hence also the most populated part of the country.

The climate is very pleasant, fresh during the nights and warm during the day, but far from being as hot as on the coast. Soon the rainy season, which is called 'winter' in Costa Rica, is going to start. But usually this winter consists only of a thunder-shower in the afternoons
Besides of numerous modern buildings, there exist in the old part of the city, the barrios, still those kind of houses which are typical for San José. Mostly one-storied, they are built of bricks or air bricks. The famous national theatre dating from 1897 -thought of as the most beautiful building in Costa Rica- is built of marble.

In the capital, and also state-wide, there exists only a small police unit. In 1948 the government disbanded the army with the explanation that armed forces, for one thing, were expensive and, secondly, were unnecessary.

Irazù

With my host family I am going to visit the Irazu, a volvano 3432 m high. The road leads almost to its peak.
(For Stephens it was much more difficult to get there.: "... we set up to ascend the volcano. It was necessary to sleep en route. As we ascended, the temperature became colder and I put on my poncho, but before we reached our stopping place my teeth were chattering and before dismounting I had an ague." )

We get out of the car to walk the rest of the way to the crater. It's foggy and cold. Our path ascends above the timber-line, grass is growing here only sparsely. At last we reach the summit plateau, there isn't any vegetation at all, only ashes and lava. The enormous crater of the volcano is impressive, deep down I see a small lake. (Photo 2) It is said that up from here both -the Atlantic and the Pacific- are to be seen simultaneously. But that's just what is being said, because most of the time it's so foggy or clouded that you can hardly recognize anything that is farther away than three meters. Like today.
(Stephens, naturally, was more lucky: "By degrees the more distant clouds were lifted, and over the immense bed we saw at the same moment the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. This was the great spectacle we had hoped, but scarcely expected, to behold. The point at which they were visible were the Gulf of Nicoya and the harbour of San Juan del Norte which were not directly opposite but nearly at right angles to each other, so that we could see both without turning the body.")

Sarapiqui

I am invited by an American family to spend the weekend on their cocoa plantation, which is located in the tropical rainforest of the Sarapiqui district. The rio Sarapiqui flows into the San Juan river. The latter forms, from the Caribic to Lago de Nicaragua, the border between Costa Rica and Nicaragua. But to reach the plantation is quite exhausting. The road from San José to Heredia is still in order, but soon after Herida it turns into a bumpy track which ascends to the Cordillera Central. Up there it runs exactly between two volcanos. At the left I see the Poas (2708 m) and at the right side the Barva (2919 m). Then we sway with the Jeep slowly down into the lowlands. About 1-2 km, before the way ends for good, we turn off at the right to reach the junction of the Sarapiqui and Puerto Viejo rivers. (Photo 3) The only way to go ahead is now the river - 2 km by boat on the Puerto Viejo. For the first time in my life I experience what it is like to be on a virgin forest river. We drive in a green tunnel upstream. The house is lying high up on the steep embankment. All around a small part of the forest has been cleared. Where the cleared woodland ends, the virgin forest seems like a wall. The cocoa plants have to be looked for, because the underwood has only been cleared partially. Great forest trees always remain in order to give shade. Usually they are left standing as long as they live - until they topple over and rot away.

In the branches of the virgin forest I see innumerable birds, but on the ground only an ant-eater is getting in my way. Oddly enough, there are hardly any mosquitos in the Sarapiqui area. Because it rains so much (several times during the day), they are probably all drowned ... The water level of the Puerto Viejo changes daily. A bit more rain upstream makes its water rise right away. The current is very strong, and it's impossible to swim against it. So anybody who wants to take an afreshing bath, does it like this: He climbs over trees - toppled into the water but still lying close to the embankment - upstream. That's always a lot easier than go struggling through the jungle. Fed up with climbing, you just get into the water and the river current takes you nicely downstream! (Sorry to say, but I don't know any more if I took part in the swimming exercises. Maybe I did - maybe I was only looking on whilst the children of the family were doing it)

Biding farewell

Now I have already been in San José for more than 4 weeks. Platero recovers from his long march on a lushy green meadow. Up to there I have to cover a distance of about 1-2 km. Because I can't leave the saddle at the meadow and - apart from that - don't want to drag it back I ride my horse only with the halter. As he soon gets to know the meadow easily, that's no problem at all. But if he stays a few days in a row, I have trouble in catching him. No wonder, for which horse is going to leave such a 'paradise' voluntarily!

Originally I had intended to ride on - I even had, while planning the voyage, with a kind of youthful flippancy thought of reaching Peru! - but meanwhile a thing or two are there against it. Behind Cartago the road crosses at first the 3505 m high Cerro de la Muerte de la Cordillera de Talamanca and then runs over the coastal mountains into marshy country. Furthermore, the customs of Panama are said to be even more fussy than the one in Costa Rica concerning the importation of animals. Besides, the rainy season will begin soon, and in Panama-City I would have been forced to stop anyway. Shortly behind the city any kind of road discontinues and as far as the border with Columbia there exists only virgin forest, nothing else than virgin forest.