Episode summary:
I travelled to Costa Rica in Central America to climb a volcano called Arenal. If you want to know ‘is it worth going to Arenal volcano’, ‘what lives in the Costa Rica jungle’ or ‘how to see Costa Rica rainforest’ this podcast might be able to help.
WARNING: Arenal is currently (March 2026) not erupting but an eruption could happen at any time. Climbing live and even dormant volcanos is seriously dangerous, utterly unpredictable and potentially life-threatening. Climb at your own risk. Source and understand as much safety, risk and travel insurance information as you can while planning your trip. Preferably go with a local guide.
Listen to a podcast about climbing a live volcano in Costa Rica.
Transcript – S2 E11: Climbing a volcano in Latin America
This week we’re throwing caution to the wind and climbing a live volcano in Central America. This episode is for Eliza.
WARNING: Climbing live volcanos is seriously dangerous, utterly unpredictable and potentially life-threatening. Climb at your own risk. Source and understand as much safety, risk and travel insurance information as you can while planning your trip. Preferably go with a local guide.
I’m staring up at the smouldering cinder cone of Arenal, Costa Rica’s most active volcano. And it’s putting on a bit of a show, jolting the ground and scattering the parrots in the rainforest all around me. It’s spewing red hot boulders from its crater that bounce down its slopes, showering rocks, sparks and steam as they disintegrate. I’ve just passed a slightly singed wooden sign that, roughly translated from Spanish, reads, beyond here, your travel insurance is useless.
It reminds me to tell you, dear listener, that what I’m about to do is very dangerous. The risk of death or injury is high. Please don’t forget that. And if you don’t believe me, my Costa Rican guide Jorge, whose superstition and plain good sense prevents him from climbing this far with me, told me before he let me go that four tourists were hit by one of these boulders some years back. They did not survive.
On shaky ground
Mesmerised by the awe and beauty of the volcano, I continue over the ankle-twisting outcrops of an old lava flow. I’m alone out here and just 700 metres from the rim, although it is 700 metres of almost sheer vertical scree that I cannot climb. And that’s probably a good thing. Here, volcanologists estimate a person’s chances of survival are 50% at best. If you’re within 300 metres of the rim, you’re in what they call the Extreme Risk Zone, where every minute of survival is a luxury.
Suddenly, the risks are all around me. Superheated steam sprays around my legs from fumarole vents. The heat of the rocks is warming the soles of my trusty jungle boots and – if I stay still too long – will start to melt them. The ground twitches beneath me and specks of ash fall onto my head and shoulders. Above me, lava starts streaming from a fissure near the rim and with ominous booms, Arenal spits more boulders from its smoking crater.
The intense heat confuses my senses, making distances hard to measure. Some boulders look about the size of a truck, others no bigger than, say, a rowing boat. Their true size only becomes apparent when they bounce down the slopes towards me. Very few get as far as the old lava flow on which I’m standing. But one, the size of a watermelon, comes to a halt just a few feet away and sits there, fizzing like a meteorite. I hear another lava bomb bouncing down the scree and turn to watch its trajectory. It’s heading straight for me. I hold my breath, but then on one bounce, possibly three or four hundred metres away (it’s hard to tell) it smashes apart in a flurry of sparks into a thousand glowing pieces. I move on, hopping over the rocky surface, and see another bomb coming my way. But it skews left and takes a different path.
It’s at this point that I realise I may be tempting fate out here. So I head for home. There’s a sense of urgency now, as Arenal’s booms are becoming more frequent and my chances of survival are very probably diminishing. I retrace my steps over the old lava flow, down the small lava cliff I climbed up earlier, all the while yearning for the green safety of the rainforest. Jorge will be halfway through his first piña colada by now in the pool bar at the Tabacon Thermal Resort and Spa and I really want to join him. I stumble only once, scraping my right knee on a jagged piece of the lava cliff. Arenal has drawn blood but given that I’ve avoided being flattened by a flying truck-sized piece of hot lava, I feel pretty lucky.
Make mine a ‘Smoky Volcano’
In another half an hour I’m down on the flat ground, walking through the edge of the rainforest and being welcomed back by the parrots. The volcano just over my shoulder is getting more and more lively, but I am safe once more. I pause and look back towards it. I get goosebumps with every boulder that is shot high from the crater. It’s dusk now, so I can see the showers of sparks more clearly as they smash themselves to pieces.
The rainforest at Arenal’s base is putting on a show of its own. Numerous birds are making their evening calls across the canopy, an orchestra of a billion cicadas is tuning up for its nightly performance and unseen creatures are rustling and rummaging through the undergrowth. I step carefully over a train of leafcutter ants that crosses the path. They’re carrying small segments of green leaves back to wherever it is leafcutter ants carry their cargo.
Then I begin to hear the calls and laughs of another species, holidaying humans sipping cocktails in a pool bar. After a shower, I join them, and Jorge seems to say a quick prayer of thanks as I arrive. I’m not sure which of us is the more relieved. He’s ordered me what he says is a highly appropriate cocktail: tequila, mezcal, coconut, pineapple and orange bitters. Otherwise known as a Smoky Volcano. Cheers!
© copyright Matthew Brace
