The story
Welcome to the heart of the Old City. As you stand here on Calle Santo Domingo, take a moment to look up at the massive, golden-hued walls of the Church of Santo Domingo. This is the oldest church in Cartagena, founded in the late sixteenth century, and it holds more than just colonial history within its stones.
You are currently standing in the Callejón de los Estribos, or the Alley of the Stirrups. If you look at the side of the church, you will see those enormous stone buttresses reaching out like heavy limbs to the ground. These are the estribos.
They weren't part of the original design, but as the heavy vaulted ceilings began to push the walls outward, architects had to build these massive supports to keep the entire structure from collapsing into the street. But there is a reason beyond mere physics that locals believe this church struggled to stay upright. Turn your gaze toward the church tower and notice its slightly twisted, irregular shape.
This leads us to the legend of the Rastro del Diablo, the Devil’s Trace. Local lore tells us that as the church was being built, the devil was furious to see such a grand monument rising to the heavens in a city he considered his own. One night, in a fit of demonic rage, he jumped onto the tower, grabbing it with his claws and trying to pull the whole building down.
He failed, of course, but the force of his malevolence left the tower permanently skewed. As he leaped back down to the pavement in defeat, he struck a stone with such force that he left a permanent mark. If you look closely at the stones near the base of the church or along the alleyway, you might spot a dark, scorched indentation that resembles a cloven hoof.
This is the Rastro del Diablo. For centuries, cartageneros would cross themselves when passing this spot, fearing that the Prince of Darkness still lingered in the shadows of the buttresses. The history here is layered like the coral stone used to build these walls.
Beyond the legends, this street was a central artery for the Spanish Inquisition, whose headquarters sat just a few blocks away. The heavy, silent atmosphere of the alleyway often feels like a bridge between the divine and the macabre. As you walk further down toward the Plaza de Santo Domingo, listen to the echo of your footsteps against the cobblestones.
Imagine the friars in their white robes walking where you are now, perhaps glancing nervously at the crooked tower, wondering if the architect or the devil had the final word. Enjoy the vibrant colors of the surrounding balconies, but remember that beneath the beauty of Cartagena lies a foundation of myth and mystery that refuses to be forgotten.