El Salvador

My first chance to experience El Salvador was at this Dubai's Expo 2020. Their pavilion already emphasized Bitcoin back then. They also offered free coffee made from local beans. which might be the reason why most people seemed happy to spend some time there. 

Either way, when some time later an opportunity presented itself to visit El Salvador in person, and without much hesitation, I jumped on it.

To give readers a general idea, El Salvador is a Latin American country, so if you’ve ever been to one, you should feel right at home. Street vendors sell water not in bottles, but in plastic bags, colourful “chicken buses” drive between cities without any regard for safety and all the guards carry big, menacing shotguns. El Salvador is not as wealthy as Panama, but at the same time it’s faring better than neighbouring Nicaragua or Guatemala. In terms of GDP, it sits somewhere in the middle. 

Arrival & Chivo Installation

Right off the bat, I decided to avoid taxis and walk from the airport just to get a feel for what the country looks like. First impressions: it’s an evergreen land, lush with vegetation. 

After maybe two hours of hiking, I end up at a roundabout with a couple of hostels. Rooms are simple but cheap and with air conditioning. Life feels peachy again! 

The first thing I tried to do after checking in was install the official Bitcoin wallet “Chivo”, which is Spanish for cool. However, I quickly realised only nationals and residents are allowed to use it.

I shared my dismay with one of the boys working in the hotel. He proudly showed his Chivo wallet as if to prove that everything works fine. While this wasn’t my intention, I also noticed large transaction — a transfer of about $900.

I’m guessing it might have been some kind of remittance. El Salvador is known for having large numbers of its population rely on remittances. Some say it might constitute up to 50 per cent of its GDP.

Throughout my travels, I noticed how people walked up to Chivo ATMs to withdraw some cool cash. My guess is most were there to pick up their remittances in dollars rather than to buy or sell Bitcoin.

In general, almost everyone with a smartphone will also have Chivo, but most ignore the Bitcoin aspect entirely and just use Chivo to transact in dollars, similarly to how CashApp or Venmo work in the West. You want to pay $15 for your meal or your room? The owner will give you their phone number, and that’s all you need to know to transact. I tried asking for a QR code or Bitcoin Lightning address, but most were clueless. And even if I could somehow persuade them to look into the settings and find the address, my wallet would still not allow the transaction to go through due to some kind of lack of compatibility (I was using “The Wallet of Satoshi”). 

The Bitcoin Beach

I also decided to visit the now famous “Bitcoin Beach”, an area around El Zonte that kickstarted the country’s crypto adoption. 

It’s a pleasurable seaside region, dotted with resorts and surfing schools. You can see Bitcoin being referenced in many places, but it’s clear we’re past the hype. Bitcoin is testing new lows, excitement is gone and El Zonte is back to its main business — tourism and surfing. Old Bitcoin Beach t-shirts lie forgotten and neglected, now losing color. I even spotted two local villagers wearing them as they emerged from their work in the fields. It was clear neither of them had smartphones or any idea about crypto and just wore these shirts as their dirty clothes. 

I stayed in El Zonte for two days and during that time spotted only one crypto-related group. They wore “stack sats” shirts, which is a known maxi motto. The group walked around guarded by two shotgun-wearing officers dressed in blue uniforms. Not sure if they were real police or just security, but having guards follow you everywhere certainly attracted attention, making the whole group look very conspicuous. No way I would feel safer that way, quite the opposite.

As for El Zonte, the whole area is very picturesque. Lots of small coffee shops and restaurants where the time goes by slowly. Some of those businesses look very makeshift by Western standards, but for locals they are a way of life first and foremost.

I stopped in one restaurant to buy an energy drink. The lady that worked there tried to persuade me to stay and get something more substantial, perhaps a pizza? Unfortunately, I didn’t have cash on me, only a card. 

“We don’t accept cards”, she said. “You can pay with Bitcoin!” 

She seemed excited at the prospect and I almost felt stupid for not having any crypto ready. Honestly, I didn’t expect such a situation to occur, but there you have it. Small businesses might not have access to banking and consequently to Visa and Mastercard readers, but they do have smartphones and therefore, can accept Chivo wallet transfers without issue. That’s what a lot of articles about El Salvador seem to miss. If you go around asking “do you accept Bitcoin?” people will say no, but if you ask them about Chivo, they'll often say yes. In general, I didn’t get that feeling described in the media that Bitcoin has been completely forgotten. 

Off the beaten track

After leaving El Zonte, I travelled towards Sonsonate. It’s a typical run-of-the-mill city in the middle of El Salvador. There are no beaches, no volcanos and no international tourism. Locals glance at my bag and assume I might be doing some business or that I trade goods. Otherwise, there’s little reason for a gringo like me to be there. Still, I quickly develop a fondness for this city. It’s not perfect, but it’s raw, authentic and even cheaper than the other parts of El Salvador. You can get a glimpse of how it would feel to live as an expat here. 

In Sosonate, just like everywhere else, you would see official Chivo ATMs. There’s one by the shopping mall, one on the main square and a few others dotted around the city. They usually have some kind of staff on location to help citizens set up their Chivo wallets, answer questions and generally make it look like those ATMs do indeed double as some sort of unofficial bank. Chivo ATMs are also guarded, which means you can withdraw or deposit money only during what amounts to essentially working hours. So again, something akin to how a bank would operate rather than just an ATM for your Bitcoin wallet. 

After spending over a week in Sonsonate, I went further north to Santa Ana. It’s a well-known city, famous for its neighbouring volcano that goes by the same name. The city looks cleaner, neater and a bit more expensive. Beautiful churches adorn the streets. 

Bitcoin life

In total, I spent three weeks in El Salvador. Once I realized I could use Chivo ATMs to withdraw Bitcoin directly, without the need for a Chivo-compatible wallet, I started doing exactly that. It was cheaper than using my Visa and I also didn’t have to worry about any bank fees.

You can also find remnants of past innovations that arrived in the wake of passing the Bitcoin law in 2021. For example, I saw Strike Wallet stickers and QR codes scattered across various restaurants. The way Strike positioned itself was as a competitor to Chivo, together with a sign-up bonus of its own (unfortunately, again, only for Salvadorians). I’m not sure how successful Strike was or is but I expect not very. Most crypto-related projects have already been abandoned, but it was an interesting to see these artifacts nonetheless. 

Meanwhile, near El Zonte’s Bitcoin Beach, there’s a different project brewing. Excavators, loaders and dump trucks can be seen everywhere. It’s all part of a big push to create Surf City — a chain of modern, Western-style towns and cities catering to surfers and beach enthusiasts from all around the world. Nobody here talks about the volcano-powered Bitcoin bonds or the futuristic Bitcoin city. It’s all pie-in-the-sky speculation for now. Surf City, meanwhile, is already under construction and poised to be completed sooner rather than later.

Bitcoin no longer an official currency in El Salvador - my take

As of May 2025, Bitcoin is no longer the official currency but it continues to be recognized as legal tender. You can no longer pay taxes in Bitcoin, and the Fidebitcoin trust, which managed the governmental BTC-USD liquidity, has also been dismantled.

Having visited El Salvador much earlier than May 2025, I cannot comment on how fast or severe this wind down is, but overall I see this as a significant blow to Bitcoin adoption, both in the country and worldwide. When I was there, the initial hype may have faded, but things were far from terrible. Though few people were directly using Bitcoin, the Chivo wallet continued to see usage. This was due to the fact that its ATMs and the app itself were widely supported across the entire country and guaranteed by the government. Without that anchor Bitcoin usage will completely plummet.

Yes, people will be able to continue to buy or sell Bitcoin through exchanges, but I expect the volume will not be significantly greater than in any of its neighboring countries. Honduras has its free-city zone, Prospera, Nicaraguans use the USDT stablecoin to send and receive remittances. In this sense, El Salvador will become very much like any other Latin American country, only with potentially better regulation and being more crypto-friendly. That is still an advantage worth considering, but a far cry from the expectations laid out by the Bitcoin Law in 2021. Globally, this U-turn will be seen as a failed experiment, which does not help Bitcoin's proliferation.

Why you should visit El Salvador

Even with this setback in mind, I would still recommend visiting El Salvador without hesitation. It's a beautiful country in its own right. There are plenty of crypto safe havens all around the world and that's not what sets El Salvador apart. What El Salvador needs to leverage is what it already has: spectacular views, magnificent mountains, thick forests, idyllic beaches, great waves, tasty street food and cheerful locals. And yes, you can also use Bitcoin if you want to. Muy bonito.

One word of caution though. El Salvador is now safe, but it's still a developing country. To give an example here’s a basic motel.

It was only $8. Unfortunately, it didn’t come with a wall socket, so to charge my phone, I had to leave it at reception. Still, it had a ceiling fan and for some reason, I felt very peaceful there. I would give it 5 stars, but obviously, bathroom standards were quite low. Basically only cold water and no mirror.

An upgrade from the previous room. This is what $15 might get you.

Western-style hotels typically start around $35 but can go up to $100 or more. It’s nice to have a receptionist always present, ready to sort a room for you. Cheaper hotels usually require having to find the person in charge, either by calling displayed numbers or by banging on the door. 

Appendix: Chatting with Salvadorans

It seems locals have fallen in love with the Little Caesars Pizza franchise. After dark, the city square is littered with empty pizza boxes, all baring the Little Caesars logo. Seems the brand is pushing into the market aggressively by offering medium pizzas for $5. Until recently, having a pizza would set you back around 15 bucks, so it’s a newly discovered luxury that many could not afford before. Unfortunately, queues at Little Caesars were never-ending. Instead, I went to a local pizza shop called “OMG Pizza”. They sell by the slice, prices starting from $1. 

“Oh, You’ve been to U.S?”  asks the owner of OMG Pizza in fluent English. “I worked there for twenty years. Started in New York, then Vegas, Los Angeles.” 

“I see you support Nayib Bukele?” 

“Oh yes, I love this guy. I have his picture here”. He pointed to a picture of Nayib with his family hanging on the wall. “Before he came to power, we had so much trouble with the mafia. People would come to my restaurant, ask questions, is this my place, is this what I do and so, and so, and then come up with a number and tell me this is how much you have to pay us. And what could you do? You had to pay. But not anymore.”

“What about Bitcoin?”

“Before El Salvadore was only known for its crime rates, mafia and trafficking. Nobody really knew anything about us. Nowadays, if you say El Salvador, people think, oh, El Salvadore, you mean that Bitcoin country.” 

His attitude is quite representative. Most Salvadorans I encountered held their president in very high regard and only spoke in positives. In its capital, San Salvador, I met a tattoo artist who was quite supportive despite his business being impacted by Bukele’s policies. 

“Have you ever heard of MS-13?” he asks.

“Hm, no.”

“What? Really? I mean, well, it’s the most notorious gang in El Salvador, maybe in entire Latin America. Recently, Bukele banned certain symbols, tattoos that relate to gang membership.” 

“Like what?”

“Well, mostly numbers, number 13, gang hand gestures, clowns.” 

“Clowns? That sounds quite broad. Isn’t El Salvador committed to free speech, freedom of expression?”

“I mean, these are quite specific clown tattoos. Why would you get those if you’re not a gang member? I mean, tattooing was already quite taboo here, and now it’s even more so. Which is a shame, really. There’s so much great art and tattoo artists.” 

“I saw how Bukele decided to starve gang members that are already in locked prisons, by giving them very little food.” 

“Ha ha ha, yes I saw that as well, one tortilla a day, ha ha. I mean what can you do… country can’t move forward if it’s plagued by gangs and violence.”