In Which Our Heroes Have a Great Day. . .

Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda. . .As sung by Alan Sherman:

Hello muddah, hello faddah
Here I am at Camp Granada
Camp is very entertaining
And they say we'll have some fun if it stops raining.

I went hiking with Joe Spivy
He developed poison ivy
You remember Leonard Skinner
He got ptomaine poisoning last night after dinner.

Take me home, oh muddah, faddah
Take me home, I hate Granada
Don't leave me out in the forest where
I might get eaten by a bear.

All the counselors hate the waiters
And the lake has alligators
And the head coach wants no sissies
So he reads to us from something called Ulysses.

How I don't want this should scare ya
But my bunkmate has malaria
You remember Jeffrey Hardy
They're about to organize a searching party.

Take me home...I promise I will not make noise
Or mess the house with other boys.
Oh please don't make me stay
I've been here one whole day.

Dearest faddah, darling muddah,
How's my precious little bruddah
Let me come home, if you miss me
I would even let Aunt Bertha hug and kiss me.

Wait a minute, it's stopped hailing.
Guys are swimming, guys are sailing
Playing baseball, gee that's better
Muddah, faddah kindly disregard this letter.

I mentioned in an earlier post – written this morning – that today is a make or break day for the trip. The trip was made. Today. First we did the Titi Canopy Zip Line tour, which was great fun, and then we went to the public beach outside of Manuel Antonio National Park. Whoa. This is one of the most stunning beaches we’ve ever been too – and it has a great vibe as well (read down).

This is the Pure Vida everyone has been talking about (well, actually sticking the phrase on t-shirts and hats – haven’t actually heard a bona fide Costa Rican native person from here actually say it.) However, it’s hard to find a t-shirt without “Pure Vida,”so it must be true (think about it – how often do we Americans drop “e Pluribus Unum” in our daily conversation? See my point? Neither do I.).

It’s 4:55 and not a drop of rain. It was beautiful all day until about 2:45, and the clouds haven’t brought rain yet. It turns out that there was a big weather storm sitting over huge chunks of Costa Rica the last few days, and it finally moved on. Finally. Moved. On. Lately my life has been more difficult because of MoveOn. Today it was easier.

We were up early. . .activities start early here. The van for the canopy zip line tour picked us up at 7:10. It was about a 15 minute drive to the registration area, and then, after filling out minimal paperwork that I’m pretty sure absolved them of blame if the cable snaps and one of us plunges to a gruesome, Jurassic Park-like death below, we drove five minutes to the start off point.

Everything was good until we put our safety gear and harnesses on. Then, Mrs. Iron Tourist sidled up to me, and said, “I just want it known that I never wanted to do this.” I was – for some unknown reason – caught by surprise. Not by the temporary freakout, but by it taking this long to happen. Of course, that’s similar to what she said during the infamous snowmobile “Briefing of Death” outside of Taos one December, and then we had to pry her hands off the accelerator because she didn’t want the ride to end.

So, with that uh-oh feeling in my stomach (something goes wrong, it’s my fault), we clomped up the hill in the rainforest to the briefing area. On the way the our friendly guides pointed out two green and black poisonous frogs (not as deadly as R.O.U.S.s, but don’t mess with them nonetheless). After the detailed briefing – which mainly consisted of “don’t do this” followed by one-liners that seemed to be borrowed from Henny Youngman, we set off.

There was a group of probably 15-16 folks on the tour, and a solid number (five-six) of tour guides. Torie was the first one on the first zip line, and Carol was next. All was going well. We hit 14 lines – with the longest two being 1,000 and 1,400 feet. At some points we were 300 feet above the ground. There were no problems – we worked up a goodly sweat, and a great time was had by all. To quote myself when friends are learning to ski, “gravity works.”

Most of the lines were in the dense jungles, but the long ones had stunning views of the mountains and the valleys. Twice I failed to break quickly enough – once slamming my feet into the tree (it was exhilarating, not painful), and once causing the guide to throw the emergency break to slow me. The leader called me “Speed Demon.” I accepted the sobriquet as a point of pride.

The scariest part was not flying through the jungle, spinning occasionally, watching branches go just above or below the body. No, the scary part was the metal platforms bolted into the trees (it is private reserve property), which shook as you climbed up the stairs to the next platform. And, the more people on the stairs, the merrier it shook.

Everyone had a great time – not just the Bolger family, but the other folks on the tour (we had the only kids, the rest were either young couples or a group of friends from Texas/DC).

We were all done and back by 10:05, which gave us enough time to get back to the room, change, and catch the shuttle to the beach. Wow. What a stunning beach – rocky islands off in the not so far distance, with two points of land at either end. It was a very soft, white sand beach that had lots of people but wasn’t crowded.

To quote myself again, “Capitalism works.” (It may sound arrogant to note that you are quoting yourself, but it’s all in good fun.) The beach had many private vendors – we rented an umbrella and two lounge chairs for $10 for the day. A boogie board cost another $10 for the day – which shared. We went to lunch after a while – and when we came back our lounge chairs, umbrella, and boogie board were all waiting. People were walking up and down the beach, selling useful items. One fellow was selling cerveza and soda – for just $3 and $1 respectively. And they were cold drinks. Others had art, necklaces, tevas, beach towels, frozen drinks, sangria in a bag (yes, dear reader, you read that right). However, none of it was overbearing, and if you waved them off, they let you be.

The waves were great, the beach had very few rocks, and the views were spectacular. The only mistake I made was forgetting to have Mrs. Tourist sunscreen my back. Everything else was fine, but the back – burnt.

If you go to Costa Rica (hint – don’t choose the rainy season if possible), the area around Quepos (the town) and Manuel Antonio N.P. is a must visit. The beaches are spectacular, the adventure sports are great, and there is enough to do even for folks who aren’t into adventure sports.

We barely left the ocean (Mrs. Tourist doesn’t do waves, so she hung out and read, guarding our stuff) until it was time for lunch. Julia and Maddy made poor tactical decisions, choosing to rent surfboards as the tide was coming in. They rode some waves, but not many (others – mostly guys in the 20s with clearly too much money – doing the same had huge problems too).

For lunch, we walked up the road along the beach, and choose a nondescript place for lunch (right near Marlins, where we ate last night). It was perfectly good – cheapest meal of the trip (non-breakfast), and the carne en salsa Casado plates that Carol and I had were excellent.

After that, it was back to the beach for a bit, more swimming in the now huge waves (great for bodysurfing – which Maddy is really doing well at). Then we caught the 2:40 shuttle back, vowing to come back tomorrow. We then hung at the pool for a while, because the kids wanted to ride the water slide – which I took four times and Carol even did once.

One of the all time top days. And it couldn’t have come at a better time – since frustration was growing among all five Iron Tourist family members.

No cell service here, and the only wireless is in the hotel lobby. Which is a modest pain, but such is life in a place known for Pure Vida.