Favorite things to do
Maddy -- zip line, white water rafting
Torie -- zip line, white water rafting
Glen -- white water rafting, zip line
Carol -- zip line, white water rafting
Julia -- zip line, parasailing, rafting
Favorite foods
Glen -- all the seafood, Casados, fried plaintains
Carol -- Casados
Julia -- Beef tenderloins
Favorite resort
Maddy -- Punta Islita
Torie -- Punta Islita
Julia -- Si Como No
Carol -- Punta Islita
Glen -- Si Como No
Favorite animals
Julia -- caiman, tropical bird eating snake
Maddy -- white faced monkeys, tropical bird eating snake
Torie -- white faced monkeys, Stefano the sloth
Glen -- white faced monkeys, all the butterflies
Carol -- wihte faced monkeys, hummingbirds
Favorite things to do at the beach
Maddy -- sea kayaking
Torie -- surfing
Glen -- body surfing, having entrepeneurs sell cerveza on the beach
Carol -- relax and read
Julia -- parasailing
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Pura Vida. . .Pure Life
Three flights later, we're home. The fun was the delay getting from San Jose, CR to Charlotte, NC -- which raised the possibility of spending the night in a Hampton Inn near the Charlotte airport, but we made our flight.
The night before, we had a good final dinner at Agua Azul ("Blue Water"), an American-owned, Costa Rican chef'd place with just eight tables and good service. I had yet another take on fish -- this time it was Red Snapper with linguini, peppers, and (oddly) diced carrots -- but all good.
We then went to Rico Tico's for dessert and the banana flambe show (both Torie and I got it). The show is better than the actual dessert, but the show is so cool everyone pulls out their camera to not accurately capture just how amazing it is.
So, of the tropical locations we've been, I'd put Costa Rica right up there, just below Hawaii. Less rain would have tied it with our 2005 Hawaii trip. Third place is Australia (that was too short a time). Fourth is Puerto Rico (Carol and I went there for our 15th anniversary five years ago). Then comes Cancun, with Bermuda next (to be fair, it was a December post-election trip in 1989 -- long time ago). Below last would have to be Atlantis in the Bahamas. Too big, too sterile. Too dull.
Any of the top four (Hawaii, Costa Rica, Australia, and Puerto Rico) are amazing places with a great variety of things to do, good food, and loads of fun.
Props to Costa Rica for good people who really care about the tourists who come to experience their country. While they may be in it for the money, they sincerely want people to have a good time and spread the word.
The food was enjoyable (not like Italy, but better than we'd been led to believe). The lack of bugs is a huge plus. I've said it before in earlier posts from the trip -- the variety of things to do is amazing -- and the rain forest is stunning. Leaves bigger than I am. Nature hard at work.
We stayed at ecologically friendly hotels. The cynical side of me says they simply want to save money by guilting you into turning off lights and reusing sheets and towels (all of which are commonsensical). On the plus, the building designs are unobtrusive and don't leave scars on the land -- which is nice.
Villa Blanca (the Cloud Forest hotel) is relaxing, but two nights there is plenty(with a day fully scheduled to the Poas volcano/La Paz waterfalls as part of it). It's also a good way to see large chunks of the Central Valley.
Punta Islita is a stunningly beautiful resort. We could have done with less rain, but if you are looking for a several day escape, it's worth the flight and landings on jungle airstrips. Definitely the best accomodations.
Si Como No is a beautiful resort in my favorite part of the three areas we visited. You feel like you are staying in the middle of the rain forest, and it is close to the action of the beach, the national park, the adventure sports, and nearby restaurants.
The biggest downers -- the rain and the roads. Other than a short trip to the Bahamas and a short trip to Montreal/Quebec, we always rent cars -- even if for short periods of time. We didn't here, and I'm fairly glad. While folks who drove 5-7 hours spoke of the experience as a good test of character, I'm already enough of a character, so it worked out well to not rent.
On rain -- check weather tables, but looking at them now (a bit late, eh, Glen?) suggests that late November through May, and then also July, are the times to go. September and October are the worst. . .with August a warm-up for then.
I will add one more post when Carol and the kids are home with their favorites from the trip.
The night before, we had a good final dinner at Agua Azul ("Blue Water"), an American-owned, Costa Rican chef'd place with just eight tables and good service. I had yet another take on fish -- this time it was Red Snapper with linguini, peppers, and (oddly) diced carrots -- but all good.
We then went to Rico Tico's for dessert and the banana flambe show (both Torie and I got it). The show is better than the actual dessert, but the show is so cool everyone pulls out their camera to not accurately capture just how amazing it is.
So, of the tropical locations we've been, I'd put Costa Rica right up there, just below Hawaii. Less rain would have tied it with our 2005 Hawaii trip. Third place is Australia (that was too short a time). Fourth is Puerto Rico (Carol and I went there for our 15th anniversary five years ago). Then comes Cancun, with Bermuda next (to be fair, it was a December post-election trip in 1989 -- long time ago). Below last would have to be Atlantis in the Bahamas. Too big, too sterile. Too dull.
Any of the top four (Hawaii, Costa Rica, Australia, and Puerto Rico) are amazing places with a great variety of things to do, good food, and loads of fun.
Props to Costa Rica for good people who really care about the tourists who come to experience their country. While they may be in it for the money, they sincerely want people to have a good time and spread the word.
The food was enjoyable (not like Italy, but better than we'd been led to believe). The lack of bugs is a huge plus. I've said it before in earlier posts from the trip -- the variety of things to do is amazing -- and the rain forest is stunning. Leaves bigger than I am. Nature hard at work.
We stayed at ecologically friendly hotels. The cynical side of me says they simply want to save money by guilting you into turning off lights and reusing sheets and towels (all of which are commonsensical). On the plus, the building designs are unobtrusive and don't leave scars on the land -- which is nice.
Villa Blanca (the Cloud Forest hotel) is relaxing, but two nights there is plenty(with a day fully scheduled to the Poas volcano/La Paz waterfalls as part of it). It's also a good way to see large chunks of the Central Valley.
Punta Islita is a stunningly beautiful resort. We could have done with less rain, but if you are looking for a several day escape, it's worth the flight and landings on jungle airstrips. Definitely the best accomodations.
Si Como No is a beautiful resort in my favorite part of the three areas we visited. You feel like you are staying in the middle of the rain forest, and it is close to the action of the beach, the national park, the adventure sports, and nearby restaurants.
The biggest downers -- the rain and the roads. Other than a short trip to the Bahamas and a short trip to Montreal/Quebec, we always rent cars -- even if for short periods of time. We didn't here, and I'm fairly glad. While folks who drove 5-7 hours spoke of the experience as a good test of character, I'm already enough of a character, so it worked out well to not rent.
On rain -- check weather tables, but looking at them now (a bit late, eh, Glen?) suggests that late November through May, and then also July, are the times to go. September and October are the worst. . .with August a warm-up for then.
I will add one more post when Carol and the kids are home with their favorites from the trip.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Administering Last Riffs. . .
There are a lot fewer bugs here than we would have expected. Yes, there are plenty of beetles, moths, grasshoppers, some annoying black flies, and crickets, but we’ve not been bothered by mosquitos.
And, it appears that all dining in Costa Rica is in open air restaurants that are covered up top, but open all around to nature on all sides. It’s mostly al fresco, with protection from the rain. And we’ve not eaten dinner without rain.
It’s unusual for us not to rent a car, but we really didn’t need one here. There are enough busses – shuttles or public – that a car isn’t needed. No parking worries, and even fewer concerns about directions. And, given that it takes people four to seven hours to go from one place to another in this country on roads that make my old pick-up lines seem smooth, I’m glad we flew from place to place – even if the travel was an adventure in itself.
As someone noted to us, the towns are all the same when driving – a church, a soccer field, two bars, and a little place that’s essentially a general store.
The two activities I wish we had time for in Quepos is scuba diving – although we aren’t certified, it would have been fun to do the lesson and the beginner dives – and deep sea fishing (but only the half day trip). Some day we’ll get certified on scuba – we’ve done some already and enjoyed it – but finding time to do it is a challenge.
Other things that would have been fun to try is the ATV trip, mountain biking, and also renting a jet ski. Having a family of five makes some of those a little problematic.
And, it appears that all dining in Costa Rica is in open air restaurants that are covered up top, but open all around to nature on all sides. It’s mostly al fresco, with protection from the rain. And we’ve not eaten dinner without rain.
It’s unusual for us not to rent a car, but we really didn’t need one here. There are enough busses – shuttles or public – that a car isn’t needed. No parking worries, and even fewer concerns about directions. And, given that it takes people four to seven hours to go from one place to another in this country on roads that make my old pick-up lines seem smooth, I’m glad we flew from place to place – even if the travel was an adventure in itself.
As someone noted to us, the towns are all the same when driving – a church, a soccer field, two bars, and a little place that’s essentially a general store.
The two activities I wish we had time for in Quepos is scuba diving – although we aren’t certified, it would have been fun to do the lesson and the beginner dives – and deep sea fishing (but only the half day trip). Some day we’ll get certified on scuba – we’ve done some already and enjoyed it – but finding time to do it is a challenge.
Other things that would have been fun to try is the ATV trip, mountain biking, and also renting a jet ski. Having a family of five makes some of those a little problematic.
Sail Calypso, I Sing To Your Spirit, etc.
Of the many things we did in the Quepos/Manuel Antonio area, the catamaran/snorkeling trip was probably the most average. It was fun, but compared to the adrenalin of the zip lines and the whitewater rafting, the excitement of the nature tour, and the beauty and vibe of the public beach, it paled in comparison.
Now, part of the problem is the first time Carol and I ever snorkeled was at the Great Barrier Reef in Australia (in that case, “Great” is an understatement, but I doubt they’ll rename it simply based on my suggestion). And, two years ago, as a family, we all did a great snorkel trip in Hawaii on the Big Island. For our 15th wedding anniversary five years ago, Carol and I had a great time on a catamaran snorkel trip in Puerto Rico, so it would be hard for today to measure up. And it didn’t. Again, everyone enjoyed themselves, but it was lower energy than the last few days.
There is not much of a manana attitude in Costa Rica, but every so often it comes out – such as the organization for today’s trip. We got to the Quepos docks by 8:45, but the third shuttle didn’t arrive for another half hour or so, so there was a bunch of fun standing around waiting, with no one telling us why we were waiting.
We went off in search of nature – and promptly saw a green sea turtle. That was it until the very end when we spotted a spotted dolphin (which was younger than 15 years old, so it wasn’t spotted yet). Nature happens – except when it doesn’t, and today was one of those days. No dolphins (till the very end), and whales at this time of year are unusual to spot (they had seen one about a week ago – or so they claimed).
The crew was friendly enough, but not at the level of personal interaction as on the previous three days. We finally headed over toward Manual Antonio N.P., where we anchored and swam. That was refreshing – and the kids and I had fun jumping off the higher point of the boat into the water. My dives were poorly rated by the Soviet and Chinese judges. Heck, even the American judges scored them low. Mrs. Iron Tourist did go into the water, but she took the dignified approach of going toward the back of the catamaran and sliding into the water.
After that, we headed over to the snorkeling spot. One thing they did well is hand out the equipment on the way over, rather than waiting till we anchored. There were some moderately interesting fish, and a lot of certain types. I did see a couple of puffers, and Maddy spotted a snake in the water, which she pointed out to me (maybe an eel?). We only had a half hour for snorkeling, but with the tide coming in, it was some work to avoid being dashed against the rocks. There was a fun gap in the rocks to shoot through, with many fish all around. That was exhilarating, simply trying to ensure I didn’t run out of water before whacking against the rocks.
Afterwards, we had a pleasant lunch on-board, kabobs of fish, meat, peppers, and onions, along with some sides (including the ever present watermelons and pineapple slices – the national fruit snacks of Costa Rica). Then we sailed a bit, saw the dolphin, and returned to port.
Among the most remarkable parts of the day were the cloud formations both to our west (billowing white clouds, with even larger yellow-tinged ones behind them), and to our east – heavy rain over the mountains and valley we had been rafting in the day before.
We thought about hitting the beach for the last few hours of daylight before our return tomorrow, but with the thunder reverberating in the mountains, the girls opted for the pool. And the rains started, so we made the right, yet unfortunate choice.
On the way back, Carol struck up a conversation with a woman from Valencia, Spain. The woman was quite surprised when Carol told her about the tsunami warning last night – it was news to her. Other people on the snorkel trip mentioned they had to evacuate their hotel in Quepos until the all clear was given – but the town is low-lying, while our resort, Si Como No, is well up the hill overlooking the ocean to the south of Quepos.
This will likely be the last entry until Saturday, when I will have some final thoughts on Costa Rica and actually get to post a few more pictures.
Now, part of the problem is the first time Carol and I ever snorkeled was at the Great Barrier Reef in Australia (in that case, “Great” is an understatement, but I doubt they’ll rename it simply based on my suggestion). And, two years ago, as a family, we all did a great snorkel trip in Hawaii on the Big Island. For our 15th wedding anniversary five years ago, Carol and I had a great time on a catamaran snorkel trip in Puerto Rico, so it would be hard for today to measure up. And it didn’t. Again, everyone enjoyed themselves, but it was lower energy than the last few days.
There is not much of a manana attitude in Costa Rica, but every so often it comes out – such as the organization for today’s trip. We got to the Quepos docks by 8:45, but the third shuttle didn’t arrive for another half hour or so, so there was a bunch of fun standing around waiting, with no one telling us why we were waiting.
We went off in search of nature – and promptly saw a green sea turtle. That was it until the very end when we spotted a spotted dolphin (which was younger than 15 years old, so it wasn’t spotted yet). Nature happens – except when it doesn’t, and today was one of those days. No dolphins (till the very end), and whales at this time of year are unusual to spot (they had seen one about a week ago – or so they claimed).
The crew was friendly enough, but not at the level of personal interaction as on the previous three days. We finally headed over toward Manual Antonio N.P., where we anchored and swam. That was refreshing – and the kids and I had fun jumping off the higher point of the boat into the water. My dives were poorly rated by the Soviet and Chinese judges. Heck, even the American judges scored them low. Mrs. Iron Tourist did go into the water, but she took the dignified approach of going toward the back of the catamaran and sliding into the water.
After that, we headed over to the snorkeling spot. One thing they did well is hand out the equipment on the way over, rather than waiting till we anchored. There were some moderately interesting fish, and a lot of certain types. I did see a couple of puffers, and Maddy spotted a snake in the water, which she pointed out to me (maybe an eel?). We only had a half hour for snorkeling, but with the tide coming in, it was some work to avoid being dashed against the rocks. There was a fun gap in the rocks to shoot through, with many fish all around. That was exhilarating, simply trying to ensure I didn’t run out of water before whacking against the rocks.
Afterwards, we had a pleasant lunch on-board, kabobs of fish, meat, peppers, and onions, along with some sides (including the ever present watermelons and pineapple slices – the national fruit snacks of Costa Rica). Then we sailed a bit, saw the dolphin, and returned to port.
Among the most remarkable parts of the day were the cloud formations both to our west (billowing white clouds, with even larger yellow-tinged ones behind them), and to our east – heavy rain over the mountains and valley we had been rafting in the day before.
We thought about hitting the beach for the last few hours of daylight before our return tomorrow, but with the thunder reverberating in the mountains, the girls opted for the pool. And the rains started, so we made the right, yet unfortunate choice.
On the way back, Carol struck up a conversation with a woman from Valencia, Spain. The woman was quite surprised when Carol told her about the tsunami warning last night – it was news to her. Other people on the snorkel trip mentioned they had to evacuate their hotel in Quepos until the all clear was given – but the town is low-lying, while our resort, Si Como No, is well up the hill overlooking the ocean to the south of Quepos.
This will likely be the last entry until Saturday, when I will have some final thoughts on Costa Rica and actually get to post a few more pictures.
Rearranging Deck Chairs on the Titanic?
So, at the front desk, we asked how far a walk it is to Agua Azul, a nearby restaurant that had been recommended. Only two minutes away. When we got there (in, of course, the rain), it was closed. So we walked back and asked for cab to take us to La Cantina (another recommended place).
The guy working the front desk rang the cab company, and, after a bit, put down the phone and noted, “the cabs are probably not running because of the Tsunami. Everyone is leaving Quepos.” Oh.
What? Tsunami. Hmmm. . .somehow you would think that there would be more information forthcoming, and sooner. So I asked a insightful follow-up question. “Tsunami?” He went on to say there had been an earthquake in Peru and the Tsunami was expected to hit around 9pm – which was 1½ hours from our conversation.
So we went to the Rico Tico restaurant at the resort, figuring that we were pretty high up the hill and would be safe. We talked of the Tsunami, the day’s rafting, the Tsunami, Harry Potter, the Tsunami, etc. We kept checking our watches, and wondered if we’d be better off just a bit higher up the hill. Undoubtedly the lower level hotels had been evacuated.
We wondered how much damage would be caused, and how to get out of the area to return as planned on Friday. We each wondered whether we should be moving up to even higher ground.
Dinner was good (I had the snook, and Carol and I split another bottle of the Chilean Trio wine that we had liked at Puente Islita) but there was one freaky moment. Suddenly the lights went out – and we got ready to bolt up the hill, figuring if the locals were leaving, so were we. However, it was just for the show they put on when serving the banana flambe – flipping the burning rum from metal gravy boat to metal gravy boat – and pouring some on the glass table to burn out. It was a pretty good show.
Around 9:10, an American woman joined her three friends with the news that the Tsunami warning had been cancelled. The excitement was over. Fortunately. Not just for us, but for all.
The guy working the front desk rang the cab company, and, after a bit, put down the phone and noted, “the cabs are probably not running because of the Tsunami. Everyone is leaving Quepos.” Oh.
What? Tsunami. Hmmm. . .somehow you would think that there would be more information forthcoming, and sooner. So I asked a insightful follow-up question. “Tsunami?” He went on to say there had been an earthquake in Peru and the Tsunami was expected to hit around 9pm – which was 1½ hours from our conversation.
So we went to the Rico Tico restaurant at the resort, figuring that we were pretty high up the hill and would be safe. We talked of the Tsunami, the day’s rafting, the Tsunami, Harry Potter, the Tsunami, etc. We kept checking our watches, and wondered if we’d be better off just a bit higher up the hill. Undoubtedly the lower level hotels had been evacuated.
We wondered how much damage would be caused, and how to get out of the area to return as planned on Friday. We each wondered whether we should be moving up to even higher ground.
Dinner was good (I had the snook, and Carol and I split another bottle of the Chilean Trio wine that we had liked at Puente Islita) but there was one freaky moment. Suddenly the lights went out – and we got ready to bolt up the hill, figuring if the locals were leaving, so were we. However, it was just for the show they put on when serving the banana flambe – flipping the burning rum from metal gravy boat to metal gravy boat – and pouring some on the glass table to burn out. It was a pretty good show.
Around 9:10, an American woman joined her three friends with the news that the Tsunami warning had been cancelled. The excitement was over. Fortunately. Not just for us, but for all.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
A River Runs Through It. . .
Wow. Okay, Costa Rica is definitely a great place to go. Non-rainy season would be better, but as long as you pack a whole bunch of activities into the morning (and it’s not an all-day rain), that’s okay. It would be nice to have one whole day here without rain, but then we probably wouldn’t know what to do. Especially around dinner time. Every hotel room has multiple umbrellas to be used by the guests.
If you decide to go to Costa Rica, this area is a must. The Cloud Forest and Volcano areas were neat, and Punta Islita is a stunningly beautiful (when dry) remote getaway (and I mean REMOTE). However, Quepos/Manual Antonio is where the action is. It’s both an adventure sport paradise and a natural paradise. I got give our travel agent huge props for the order in which we went to the three locales – because if we had come here first, the other areas would have been a letdown. However, they
Last night, we walked to a nearby restaurant, Avion, which is built around a C-123 cargo plane that had been used by the CIA to help get arms to the Nicaraguan Contras. That fell apart when a sister plane was shot down by the commies (Sandinistas) and they captured Eugene Hasenfus. That propelled Ollie North to fame, which kept Chuck Robb in the Senate for six years longer than it should have, which then got George Allen elected to the Senate, until he macaca’d the GOP into the minority. Anyhow, recent history lesson aside, the food was definitely the most underwhelming dinner we’ve had here. So, if you come to the Quepos/Manuel Antonio area (and you should), skip that restaurant, despite its impact on American history.
Side note on restaurants: every Costa Rican guide/person/driver we ask for suggestions around here tells us a different list of restaurants. You would think that through pure random chance there would have been at least one place mentioned twice. . .but nope. And everyone has three or four places to suggest – as well as pooh-poohing the suggestions other people have made. Tonight, we’ll be going to place recommended by our shuttle driver this morning. We’re also investing in three stocks he recommended (just kidding). Fortunately, choosing a restaurant is a minor life choice, not a major life decision. And, the driver didn’t smoke, so we’ve got that going for us.
Anyhow, today was white water rafting day – and, as it turns out, four wheel drive excursion day too! The 25 mile drive took nearly two hours. The roads started out bad, and went to worse, and then nearly impassable, as we got stuck once.
There were also plenty of what they call “oh my God” bridges. And it’s not because you say, “oh my God, that’s an impressive bridge.” Instead, it’s because you say, “oh my God, we’re going to die.” Dear reader, you are not seeing the little ticker on Fox News (or CNN for some of you readers – yes, I’m talking to you John Passacantando!) that 19 American tourists and four guides died in a tragic ravine crash, so obviously we made it. But it was hairy for a bit.
On the way, we passed through a huge palm oil plantation. Originally it had been a banana plantation, but those grow better on the Carribean side – on the Pacific side they got hammered by diseases and pests. Then, we bounced our way through a teak plantation. Finally, we started climbing. On roads not fit for man nor beast. When the description of the tour said their 4x4 vehicle is a must, I was skeptical. Turns out that another tour company does not have a 4x4 vehicle, so they put in seven miles sooner – and miss some of the best parts.
If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear flowers in your hair. But, if you’re going to Manuel Antonio (Quepos), be sure to use Iguana Tours for your rafting trip (also used them for our Manual Antonio nature tour that was fabulous. In Italy (read the March/April blog entries), we had great guides – but compared to Costa Rica, their job is easy. In Costa Rica, everything changes constantly (life in nature is nasty, brutish and short), so they really have to work to spot wildlife.
Once we finally got there (after a brief rest stop to order lunch at a cooperative restaurant in a mountain town of maybe 30 families), we were in the back of beyond as the Aussies say. There was a nice honeymoon couple from Oklahoma in our raft, along with our guide Josh, who grew up near the wild river (the Rio Savegre, known as the cleanest river in Costa Rica) and taught himself English so he could guide rather than work on the palm oil plantation. (Side note: remember my quote – “Capitalism works”? Well, it turns out the palm oil plantation workers all come from Nicaragua because the pay is better and Costa Ricans won’t do that dangerous, hard work any more. “Like Mexicans in the US,” one guide noted).
Interestingly, the tour write-up suggested this tour for beginners (Carol and I have rafted, but it’s been a while, and the kids were rookies) because it had Class II and III rapids. Except there are also two Class IVs (which were good fun).
Danny and I had the front of the boat (Danny’s the newlywed from Oklahoma). Carol and Haley (his bride) had the next row, while Julia and Maddy were third row. Torie and Josh (our guide) had the back. Torie didn’t steer, but Josh did (that’s an understatement!).
In the first rapids, right after putting in, we dropped into a hole and got hammered by a wave. Absolutely hammered, and none of us were really ready. Torie hadn’t put her foot in the right spot to lock in, so she bounced off Maddy and went spinning forward into the third row. Both Maddy and Torie had their doubts, especially since it was just a Class II and that was just the beginning.
After that baptism by fire (well, actually by water), we all settled down. Yes, we got hammered again many times, but were better prepared for it. The funny part was when Josh would yell, “forward hard” – his signal to paddle all out. Often times, I’d be paddling air, as we’d be dropping down into nothing as a wave prepared to crash over us. Good thing the river is clean, because twice I got open mouthed shots of water. Mmmm. . .fresh mountain water.
Along the way, we saw Toucans, Tiger Herons, Egrets, Turkey Vultures and Great Blue Herons in what appeared to be a canyon of rainforest. Every so often, we’d go spinning around to get great views in 360 degrees of rainforests and mountains. Josh had his patter down, and also showed off his skills by purposely nearly tipping the boat some times – scaring the heck out of us caught by surprise – or diving into the water and leaving us to negotiate rapids (easy ones, not harder ones).
There was a break in the middle for a snack of fruit (pineapple and watermelon), cookies, and fruit juice/water. The folks in all three boats wore big smiles along with their life jackets and helmets. Torie had made friends with a ten year old girl on the ride over, and her parents were quite nice – despite being Red Sox fans from Massachusetts.
After we finished the 13 mile trip, we loaded back on the bus and headed for the remote restaurant for lunch. Besides being fine local chicken or beef Casado plates, we also had great views of multiple Toucans, including one calling to others.
Carol and I had the chicken – it was free range organic, and we only felt modestly guilty as other members of the chicken’s family pecked the grounds nearby. After all, it was too late to do anything for our chicken except eat it, and so we did. I bought our guide a beer, and one for another guide who’s people weren’t smart enough to do it.
One guide led some of us – including Maddy and I – down a steep path to a wildlife rescue center, where injured wild animals are nursed back to health. They have two white faced monkeys (who are the coolest monkeys – they kept prying open our hands to see what is in them – no food for health reasons), a squirrel monkey, macaws, a toucan, some parrots, and a turkey-like bird. That bird is close to being ready for release, and its mate was hanging around in nearby trees in freedom, waiting hopefully for the other. When the caged bird saw its mate, it started jumping around in excitement. Another cool Discovery Channel moment.
Then, we hopped into the 4x4 and made it back into town, passing back over some “oh my God” bridges and getting another “Costa Rican massage” by bouncing on the “roads.”
Earlier, we had gotten out of the way of the 4x4 by lining up against a concrete barn. I had joked with Carol and others (only she got it) that it was generally bad luck to be a gringo lined up against a wall in Central America.
Well, we got the a similar taste of Central America when the bus got pulled over by police for not “having the proper plates.” The policeman wrote a ticket and pulled the license plates off the 4x4 shuttle bus. That was a pleasant fifteen minute delay. It’s Mother Day in Costa Rica, so the guides jested (or maybe not a jest) that the police needed a bribe to buy a present for their mother. Apparently, they weren’t local police, who know these guys, so the Iguana Tour company owner – who is also a lawyer – will have to straighten it out.
It rained a little while rafting, but not hard. The skies and sound of thunder now (5:30 Costa Rica time) promises more rain to come. In fact, looking out the ocean, there is heavy rain out past the rocky, uninhabited (except by birds) islands – and the effect is stunning. Meanwhile, down to our left is another hummingbird, hanging out by the beautiful “Bird of Paradise” flowers.
If you decide to go to Costa Rica, this area is a must. The Cloud Forest and Volcano areas were neat, and Punta Islita is a stunningly beautiful (when dry) remote getaway (and I mean REMOTE). However, Quepos/Manual Antonio is where the action is. It’s both an adventure sport paradise and a natural paradise. I got give our travel agent huge props for the order in which we went to the three locales – because if we had come here first, the other areas would have been a letdown. However, they
Last night, we walked to a nearby restaurant, Avion, which is built around a C-123 cargo plane that had been used by the CIA to help get arms to the Nicaraguan Contras. That fell apart when a sister plane was shot down by the commies (Sandinistas) and they captured Eugene Hasenfus. That propelled Ollie North to fame, which kept Chuck Robb in the Senate for six years longer than it should have, which then got George Allen elected to the Senate, until he macaca’d the GOP into the minority. Anyhow, recent history lesson aside, the food was definitely the most underwhelming dinner we’ve had here. So, if you come to the Quepos/Manuel Antonio area (and you should), skip that restaurant, despite its impact on American history.
Side note on restaurants: every Costa Rican guide/person/driver we ask for suggestions around here tells us a different list of restaurants. You would think that through pure random chance there would have been at least one place mentioned twice. . .but nope. And everyone has three or four places to suggest – as well as pooh-poohing the suggestions other people have made. Tonight, we’ll be going to place recommended by our shuttle driver this morning. We’re also investing in three stocks he recommended (just kidding). Fortunately, choosing a restaurant is a minor life choice, not a major life decision. And, the driver didn’t smoke, so we’ve got that going for us.
Anyhow, today was white water rafting day – and, as it turns out, four wheel drive excursion day too! The 25 mile drive took nearly two hours. The roads started out bad, and went to worse, and then nearly impassable, as we got stuck once.
There were also plenty of what they call “oh my God” bridges. And it’s not because you say, “oh my God, that’s an impressive bridge.” Instead, it’s because you say, “oh my God, we’re going to die.” Dear reader, you are not seeing the little ticker on Fox News (or CNN for some of you readers – yes, I’m talking to you John Passacantando!) that 19 American tourists and four guides died in a tragic ravine crash, so obviously we made it. But it was hairy for a bit.
On the way, we passed through a huge palm oil plantation. Originally it had been a banana plantation, but those grow better on the Carribean side – on the Pacific side they got hammered by diseases and pests. Then, we bounced our way through a teak plantation. Finally, we started climbing. On roads not fit for man nor beast. When the description of the tour said their 4x4 vehicle is a must, I was skeptical. Turns out that another tour company does not have a 4x4 vehicle, so they put in seven miles sooner – and miss some of the best parts.
If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear flowers in your hair. But, if you’re going to Manuel Antonio (Quepos), be sure to use Iguana Tours for your rafting trip (also used them for our Manual Antonio nature tour that was fabulous. In Italy (read the March/April blog entries), we had great guides – but compared to Costa Rica, their job is easy. In Costa Rica, everything changes constantly (life in nature is nasty, brutish and short), so they really have to work to spot wildlife.
Once we finally got there (after a brief rest stop to order lunch at a cooperative restaurant in a mountain town of maybe 30 families), we were in the back of beyond as the Aussies say. There was a nice honeymoon couple from Oklahoma in our raft, along with our guide Josh, who grew up near the wild river (the Rio Savegre, known as the cleanest river in Costa Rica) and taught himself English so he could guide rather than work on the palm oil plantation. (Side note: remember my quote – “Capitalism works”? Well, it turns out the palm oil plantation workers all come from Nicaragua because the pay is better and Costa Ricans won’t do that dangerous, hard work any more. “Like Mexicans in the US,” one guide noted).
Interestingly, the tour write-up suggested this tour for beginners (Carol and I have rafted, but it’s been a while, and the kids were rookies) because it had Class II and III rapids. Except there are also two Class IVs (which were good fun).
Danny and I had the front of the boat (Danny’s the newlywed from Oklahoma). Carol and Haley (his bride) had the next row, while Julia and Maddy were third row. Torie and Josh (our guide) had the back. Torie didn’t steer, but Josh did (that’s an understatement!).
In the first rapids, right after putting in, we dropped into a hole and got hammered by a wave. Absolutely hammered, and none of us were really ready. Torie hadn’t put her foot in the right spot to lock in, so she bounced off Maddy and went spinning forward into the third row. Both Maddy and Torie had their doubts, especially since it was just a Class II and that was just the beginning.
After that baptism by fire (well, actually by water), we all settled down. Yes, we got hammered again many times, but were better prepared for it. The funny part was when Josh would yell, “forward hard” – his signal to paddle all out. Often times, I’d be paddling air, as we’d be dropping down into nothing as a wave prepared to crash over us. Good thing the river is clean, because twice I got open mouthed shots of water. Mmmm. . .fresh mountain water.
Along the way, we saw Toucans, Tiger Herons, Egrets, Turkey Vultures and Great Blue Herons in what appeared to be a canyon of rainforest. Every so often, we’d go spinning around to get great views in 360 degrees of rainforests and mountains. Josh had his patter down, and also showed off his skills by purposely nearly tipping the boat some times – scaring the heck out of us caught by surprise – or diving into the water and leaving us to negotiate rapids (easy ones, not harder ones).
There was a break in the middle for a snack of fruit (pineapple and watermelon), cookies, and fruit juice/water. The folks in all three boats wore big smiles along with their life jackets and helmets. Torie had made friends with a ten year old girl on the ride over, and her parents were quite nice – despite being Red Sox fans from Massachusetts.
After we finished the 13 mile trip, we loaded back on the bus and headed for the remote restaurant for lunch. Besides being fine local chicken or beef Casado plates, we also had great views of multiple Toucans, including one calling to others.
Carol and I had the chicken – it was free range organic, and we only felt modestly guilty as other members of the chicken’s family pecked the grounds nearby. After all, it was too late to do anything for our chicken except eat it, and so we did. I bought our guide a beer, and one for another guide who’s people weren’t smart enough to do it.
One guide led some of us – including Maddy and I – down a steep path to a wildlife rescue center, where injured wild animals are nursed back to health. They have two white faced monkeys (who are the coolest monkeys – they kept prying open our hands to see what is in them – no food for health reasons), a squirrel monkey, macaws, a toucan, some parrots, and a turkey-like bird. That bird is close to being ready for release, and its mate was hanging around in nearby trees in freedom, waiting hopefully for the other. When the caged bird saw its mate, it started jumping around in excitement. Another cool Discovery Channel moment.
Then, we hopped into the 4x4 and made it back into town, passing back over some “oh my God” bridges and getting another “Costa Rican massage” by bouncing on the “roads.”
Earlier, we had gotten out of the way of the 4x4 by lining up against a concrete barn. I had joked with Carol and others (only she got it) that it was generally bad luck to be a gringo lined up against a wall in Central America.
Well, we got the a similar taste of Central America when the bus got pulled over by police for not “having the proper plates.” The policeman wrote a ticket and pulled the license plates off the 4x4 shuttle bus. That was a pleasant fifteen minute delay. It’s Mother Day in Costa Rica, so the guides jested (or maybe not a jest) that the police needed a bribe to buy a present for their mother. Apparently, they weren’t local police, who know these guys, so the Iguana Tour company owner – who is also a lawyer – will have to straighten it out.
It rained a little while rafting, but not hard. The skies and sound of thunder now (5:30 Costa Rica time) promises more rain to come. In fact, looking out the ocean, there is heavy rain out past the rocky, uninhabited (except by birds) islands – and the effect is stunning. Meanwhile, down to our left is another hummingbird, hanging out by the beautiful “Bird of Paradise” flowers.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monkey Business. . .But Not In Bimini
(We’ll see who gets the reference in the title – Google it if you don’t.) Well, it’s raining again, but the rain held off long enough to make the day mostly great. If it had waited another hour or two, it would have been better.
Last night, as I was catching up on two days of email and uploading the blog entries (because it is $5 per hour of wireless here, I blog on Wordperfect first and then cut and paste), the skies opened up. It poured. However, a 5:40 pm start was the latest of any day. Today was 2:30pm, although it didn’t start really pouring until 4pm.
We scrapped our plans to go into Quepos for dinner because of the monsoon-like downpour, and instead had a fine meal at the nice seafood restaurant here at the resort (there are two places to eat). At first, because of the downpour, we were one of only two groups eating, but once the rain let up (didn’t stop, just not as much of a deluge), the place filled up. We ate in smug superiority, knowing that we deserved the best food and service for braving the heavy rain, while the latecomers were nothing but food wussies. I’m a nice guy, so I didn’t openly mocking them. The food was delicious – I’m eating fish probably two out of three meals – quite nice preparations.
We got to sleep in till 6:40 (I was up earlier doing some work) this morning, because we had a 7:45 pick-up for the hiking/nature tour of Manuel Antonio National Park. We were the only English-speaking group on the shuttle bus. When everyone else was talking excitedly in Spanish, I assumed they were plotting to kill the gringos and take our money, but it turns out they were only scaring themselves about snakes. That was kind of a relief.
It was unexpected. . .of the 60 or so people there, only 16 spoke English, so that was our tour group. Fortunately we had a guide. We never would have found one quarter of the animals we saw without him. We saw many iguana (which tend to blend in), lizards, agouti (a cute prairie dog like large rodent), both two-toed and three-toed sloths (some more active than others). Maddy spotted a snake (non-poisonous bird snake – so-named because it eats birds). We also saw multiple interesting insects, including stunningly beautiful blue and red metallic colored grasshoppers. There were crabs with bright red legs, a baby Caiman, and a Jesus Christ lizard (because it can run on water).
However, the highlights of the trip were the white faced monkeys, as well as the howler monkeys. The beaches in the park are among the most beautiful in the world. And, there was a monkey sighting at one end of the beach cove. The monkeys entertained us by climbing through the low brush, crossing the beach at points, and then snagging some coconut pieces that lay shattered in the low brush. It was amazing how close we could get to them.
Later, as we walked down a path known as “sloth alley” (yes, we did spot multiple sloths along the alley), we saw a family of howler monkeys high off in the distant trees. It was entertaining to watch them swing and play through the trees. I thought about channeling Howard Cosell, but since he was nearly fired for that comment, I decided not to.
We heard toucans, but none of us could spot them through the dense tree growth. We did not see any crocodiles (just the baby caiman, which prefers brackish waters), but our guide got a laugh (at least from me) by quickly pointing out a logodile (simply a partially submerged log that looked like a croc).
Now, you can enter the park yourself and walk around (although you’d better tip the boat owners who help you cross the river to enter – unless it is low tide, then you can walk), but it’s definitely worth having a guide. Otherwise you would not be able to spot the animals that blend in so well to their surroundings. Plus, they have help – other guides radio them with sightings, so they roughly know where to look for different animals.
It’s a very easy hike (except for the sweat), and quite a beautiful mix of lush rainforest and stunning tropical beaches.
We ended in time for lunch, right back at Marlins, where they give you fruit and juice. . .and then entice folks to stay for lunch. That was a pretty easy decision – and today I had the chicken Casado, which again was quite good. I love that plantains come with each Casado – it’s my favorite Carribean food (much more so than, say, mangos!).
Then, we eschewed the ride back to the hotel, changed in the restaurant restrooms, and went straight to the beach. We got our lounge chairs, umbrella, and boogie board from the same woman as yesterday (despite another person trying to cut in), our cervezas from the same guy (although he appears to have variable pricing). Oh, there are even massage tables set up in case you want one right there on the beach.
Since we had all afternoon free, it was time for some adventure sports – Julia did the parasailing. From the beach, it appears she got a great ride around the entire area, out past islands and then down in front of the beach. It was pretty cool when she was able to wave to us as she went by high in the sky. She loved it (and wants to do it again – she can pay for herself next time!).
Then, Maddy, Torie and I went sea kayaking. Maddy had one to herself, and Torie and I took a double. The best part about sea kayaking is the uncertainty about getting out past the breaking waves. Maddy said it best – “I was scared when each wave came in, but it was fun going through it.” The second best part about sea kayaking – or skyaking as I called it once by mistake today – riding the waves in. We were heading out to explore the islands (from a distance – we wouldn’t want to get dashed up against the sharp rocks), when we heard thunder (the sky had turned gray around 1:45), so we headed back in.
However, we rode the waves in, and then went back out several times – just to crash through the surf and ride back in again. Torie and I flipped the first time, but Maddy rode like a pro. We did several trips out and back in again, not wanting to stray too far from the beach in case of heavy rain or lightning. The last time in, Torie and I caught the perfect wave, riding high like royalty to be deposited gently on the beach.
We did cut short our kayaking because the thunder increased in number and duration.
The only downside to the day (besides the early rain – we would have been quite content to stay longer at the beach) was the confusion getting back to the hotel. The shuttle never came (they claimed they had been there and we obviously were late. Not true, we were five minutes early, and even the workers at the beach store said it hadn’t been there yet). Rather than keep waiting, we walked up and caught the bus that runs always between Quepos and Manuel Antonio (well, vice versa in this case).
I’ve always wanted to take a bus in a Latin American country. Unlike “Romancing the Stone,” however, there were no live chickens in cages on the bus. Que sera. However, I think it only cost about one dollar for all of us to take it. I gave him 1,000 Colons (a bit less than $2), and got a decent amount of change back – rather than count it, I assumed it is correct and shoved it in my camera bag. There’s a certain amount of trust implicit when the bus fare is already a lot less than expected.
Last night, as I was catching up on two days of email and uploading the blog entries (because it is $5 per hour of wireless here, I blog on Wordperfect first and then cut and paste), the skies opened up. It poured. However, a 5:40 pm start was the latest of any day. Today was 2:30pm, although it didn’t start really pouring until 4pm.
We scrapped our plans to go into Quepos for dinner because of the monsoon-like downpour, and instead had a fine meal at the nice seafood restaurant here at the resort (there are two places to eat). At first, because of the downpour, we were one of only two groups eating, but once the rain let up (didn’t stop, just not as much of a deluge), the place filled up. We ate in smug superiority, knowing that we deserved the best food and service for braving the heavy rain, while the latecomers were nothing but food wussies. I’m a nice guy, so I didn’t openly mocking them. The food was delicious – I’m eating fish probably two out of three meals – quite nice preparations.
We got to sleep in till 6:40 (I was up earlier doing some work) this morning, because we had a 7:45 pick-up for the hiking/nature tour of Manuel Antonio National Park. We were the only English-speaking group on the shuttle bus. When everyone else was talking excitedly in Spanish, I assumed they were plotting to kill the gringos and take our money, but it turns out they were only scaring themselves about snakes. That was kind of a relief.
It was unexpected. . .of the 60 or so people there, only 16 spoke English, so that was our tour group. Fortunately we had a guide. We never would have found one quarter of the animals we saw without him. We saw many iguana (which tend to blend in), lizards, agouti (a cute prairie dog like large rodent), both two-toed and three-toed sloths (some more active than others). Maddy spotted a snake (non-poisonous bird snake – so-named because it eats birds). We also saw multiple interesting insects, including stunningly beautiful blue and red metallic colored grasshoppers. There were crabs with bright red legs, a baby Caiman, and a Jesus Christ lizard (because it can run on water).
However, the highlights of the trip were the white faced monkeys, as well as the howler monkeys. The beaches in the park are among the most beautiful in the world. And, there was a monkey sighting at one end of the beach cove. The monkeys entertained us by climbing through the low brush, crossing the beach at points, and then snagging some coconut pieces that lay shattered in the low brush. It was amazing how close we could get to them.
Later, as we walked down a path known as “sloth alley” (yes, we did spot multiple sloths along the alley), we saw a family of howler monkeys high off in the distant trees. It was entertaining to watch them swing and play through the trees. I thought about channeling Howard Cosell, but since he was nearly fired for that comment, I decided not to.
We heard toucans, but none of us could spot them through the dense tree growth. We did not see any crocodiles (just the baby caiman, which prefers brackish waters), but our guide got a laugh (at least from me) by quickly pointing out a logodile (simply a partially submerged log that looked like a croc).
Now, you can enter the park yourself and walk around (although you’d better tip the boat owners who help you cross the river to enter – unless it is low tide, then you can walk), but it’s definitely worth having a guide. Otherwise you would not be able to spot the animals that blend in so well to their surroundings. Plus, they have help – other guides radio them with sightings, so they roughly know where to look for different animals.
It’s a very easy hike (except for the sweat), and quite a beautiful mix of lush rainforest and stunning tropical beaches.
We ended in time for lunch, right back at Marlins, where they give you fruit and juice. . .and then entice folks to stay for lunch. That was a pretty easy decision – and today I had the chicken Casado, which again was quite good. I love that plantains come with each Casado – it’s my favorite Carribean food (much more so than, say, mangos!).
Then, we eschewed the ride back to the hotel, changed in the restaurant restrooms, and went straight to the beach. We got our lounge chairs, umbrella, and boogie board from the same woman as yesterday (despite another person trying to cut in), our cervezas from the same guy (although he appears to have variable pricing). Oh, there are even massage tables set up in case you want one right there on the beach.
Since we had all afternoon free, it was time for some adventure sports – Julia did the parasailing. From the beach, it appears she got a great ride around the entire area, out past islands and then down in front of the beach. It was pretty cool when she was able to wave to us as she went by high in the sky. She loved it (and wants to do it again – she can pay for herself next time!).
Then, Maddy, Torie and I went sea kayaking. Maddy had one to herself, and Torie and I took a double. The best part about sea kayaking is the uncertainty about getting out past the breaking waves. Maddy said it best – “I was scared when each wave came in, but it was fun going through it.” The second best part about sea kayaking – or skyaking as I called it once by mistake today – riding the waves in. We were heading out to explore the islands (from a distance – we wouldn’t want to get dashed up against the sharp rocks), when we heard thunder (the sky had turned gray around 1:45), so we headed back in.
However, we rode the waves in, and then went back out several times – just to crash through the surf and ride back in again. Torie and I flipped the first time, but Maddy rode like a pro. We did several trips out and back in again, not wanting to stray too far from the beach in case of heavy rain or lightning. The last time in, Torie and I caught the perfect wave, riding high like royalty to be deposited gently on the beach.
We did cut short our kayaking because the thunder increased in number and duration.
The only downside to the day (besides the early rain – we would have been quite content to stay longer at the beach) was the confusion getting back to the hotel. The shuttle never came (they claimed they had been there and we obviously were late. Not true, we were five minutes early, and even the workers at the beach store said it hadn’t been there yet). Rather than keep waiting, we walked up and caught the bus that runs always between Quepos and Manuel Antonio (well, vice versa in this case).
I’ve always wanted to take a bus in a Latin American country. Unlike “Romancing the Stone,” however, there were no live chickens in cages on the bus. Que sera. However, I think it only cost about one dollar for all of us to take it. I gave him 1,000 Colons (a bit less than $2), and got a decent amount of change back – rather than count it, I assumed it is correct and shoved it in my camera bag. There’s a certain amount of trust implicit when the bus fare is already a lot less than expected.
Monday, August 13, 2007
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.
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.
Con Mucho Gusto. . .
What’s up with mangos? There is no taste or flavor to them what so ever. They don’t live up to their reputation. I’ve had them before coming here, and each time I’m stumped. Might as well be eating wood paste. (The mango riff was my homage to the Andy Rooney style of living.)
Life in nature is nasty, brutish, and short (hey, that’s pretty original. Maybe I should trademark it!). I realized that the other day sitting on the patio, watching every creature that flew or crawled by focusing on survival. That’s 90% of what they focus on – the rest is mating. So nature is kind of like college.
The national saying in Costa Rica is “pura vida.” Which means “pure life” (even I got that one). However, I’ve never heard anyone actually say it. Instead, the great phrase here is, “con mucho gusto,” which means “with much pleasure.” That’s what folks say in response to “gracias,” instead of the more common “de nada” in other Spanish-speaking countries.
Every town with tourism has a place called “Harry’s Bar.” While probably an unintentional nod to Venice, I don’t think a bar needs to be named “Harry’s” to attract tourists. But that’s just a guess on my part.
Life in nature is nasty, brutish, and short (hey, that’s pretty original. Maybe I should trademark it!). I realized that the other day sitting on the patio, watching every creature that flew or crawled by focusing on survival. That’s 90% of what they focus on – the rest is mating. So nature is kind of like college.
The national saying in Costa Rica is “pura vida.” Which means “pure life” (even I got that one). However, I’ve never heard anyone actually say it. Instead, the great phrase here is, “con mucho gusto,” which means “with much pleasure.” That’s what folks say in response to “gracias,” instead of the more common “de nada” in other Spanish-speaking countries.
Every town with tourism has a place called “Harry’s Bar.” While probably an unintentional nod to Venice, I don’t think a bar needs to be named “Harry’s” to attract tourists. But that’s just a guess on my part.
Even The Iron Tourist Can Get Rusted. . .
Well, I’m writing this at 5:25 am Monday morning. I believe today is a make or break day for the trip. The last few days have been very frustrating with the rain. So, with the canopy tour/zip lines this morning, either the trip clearly veers completely off track, or it rights itself. We’ve had great family trips – Spain in 2001, London/Ireland in 2003, Hawaii in 2005, and Italy in 2007. This one, because of the rain, is unlikely to join that list.
Hmmm. . .how hard would it have been for our travel agent, apparently an expert on Costa Rica, to have said – “hey, August is the rainy season, you might want to go somewhere else.” But he skipped that. Other options we were considering included Scandinavia and St. Petersburg, Germany/Austria/Switzerland, or the American West (Yellowstone, Jackson Hole, etc.). Turns out we made the wrong choice. The first couple of days here were good, but the rain comes earlier and more often each day. When I checked the weather for Costa Rica on the internet, all I did was look at the average temperature per month. Bad move. . .should have look at monthly rainfalls.
Take yesterday, for instance. We got up to pouring rain at Punta Islita. During breakfast, the rain came even harder. The folks working at the resort assumed the flight was going to be delayed or cancelled. Around 8:40, they came and said that it was on schedule. So we piled into the van (just the Bolger family – no others were leaving on that flight) and were driven to the airport. Three times we drove through major streams crossing the road. They made for great looking waterfalls above us, but it was slightly harrowing crossing the rushing water.
There were two men dropped off for the flight as well, so we didn’t have the plane to ourselves. The plane was on time. The rain had lightened up a bit, although I still had visions of Roberto Clemente in my mind. But, as we flew from the peninsula we were on toward San Jose, the skies cleared. Bright sunshine in San Jose, where we waited an hour and twenty minutes for our next flight to Quepos. The girls hung out patiently, playing their Game Boys or reading until it was time to go.
After Samarra and Punta Islita airstrips, Quepos is huge. It is asphalted, and even has a hut where they sell food and souvenirs. The flight itself had eleven of the twelve seats filled.
Quepos is much more built up that the area around Punta Islita (very small town). There are many hotels, homes, and adventure activities. The Manuel Antonio National Park greater region combines nearly all of Costa Rica for the traveler – zip lines, diving, sportfishing, kayaking, rafting, hiking, mountain biking, snorkeling, horse back riding, and more.
On the 15 minute shuttle ride to our final resort (Si Como No), I saw an older fellow on a broken down bike wearing a Hooters t-shirt. I doubt he’s been there. We passed a Chinese Restaurant. I immediately made plans to not go there. We passed some casinos, and there are realty signs everywhere.
Like in the Central Valley towns we went through the first few days of the trip, all of the houses and businesses in this area have metal bars on their windows and protective metal screens in front of the doors. It’s unusual to see the more than a one story building.
Carol has been using her Spanish more here, talking with the drivers and other workers.
So, we get to Si Como No (which means, “sure, why not?”). It’s very pretty, overlooking the ocean from halfway up the hillside (like Punta Islita). The only downside is that there is no direct route to the beach, so we either take the shuttle or I’m thinking about renting a car to make it easier to get around.
As we were finishing our lunch around 2pm, it (of course) started raining. Thus, we skipped the beach and the girls went to the pool for a while, until the lightning started around 3pm. It was pouring (surprise!). So we hung in the room for a few hours, napping or reading. Eventually, when the rain weakened (temporarily), I got the girls and we went to the Gift Shop to get Carol a couple of small birthday presents. Fortunately, we found a cool glass frog Christmas ornament, so it served as a two-fer – both a birthday present (we also got her something else) and a tree ornament, as we like to have one from every trip we take.
Dinner was good, as we went off-property to Marlins, a vibrant seafood restaurant with a bar above that had live music. I grossed the girls out by getting a whole fish (red snapper) and offered them the opportunity to eat the fish head. They, shockingly, declined.
The vibe at the restaurant helped revive us. We’ve actually considered breaking the trip off early (Mrs. Tourist is more willing to do that than I am – I hate admitting defeat). You’ll note that our big trips all come in odd numbered years – that’s because election years are too busy for any kind of lengthy trip. That’s why this is disappointing – it will be two years before the next big trip, and we’ve had to waste a bunch of time waiting out seemingly never ending rain. Fortunately, right now at 6am it is sunny, so today hopefully will be a good one. If the rain holds off till 4pm, then it’s a good day. I took no pictures yesterday – why bother in the rain?
Hmmm. . .how hard would it have been for our travel agent, apparently an expert on Costa Rica, to have said – “hey, August is the rainy season, you might want to go somewhere else.” But he skipped that. Other options we were considering included Scandinavia and St. Petersburg, Germany/Austria/Switzerland, or the American West (Yellowstone, Jackson Hole, etc.). Turns out we made the wrong choice. The first couple of days here were good, but the rain comes earlier and more often each day. When I checked the weather for Costa Rica on the internet, all I did was look at the average temperature per month. Bad move. . .should have look at monthly rainfalls.
Take yesterday, for instance. We got up to pouring rain at Punta Islita. During breakfast, the rain came even harder. The folks working at the resort assumed the flight was going to be delayed or cancelled. Around 8:40, they came and said that it was on schedule. So we piled into the van (just the Bolger family – no others were leaving on that flight) and were driven to the airport. Three times we drove through major streams crossing the road. They made for great looking waterfalls above us, but it was slightly harrowing crossing the rushing water.
There were two men dropped off for the flight as well, so we didn’t have the plane to ourselves. The plane was on time. The rain had lightened up a bit, although I still had visions of Roberto Clemente in my mind. But, as we flew from the peninsula we were on toward San Jose, the skies cleared. Bright sunshine in San Jose, where we waited an hour and twenty minutes for our next flight to Quepos. The girls hung out patiently, playing their Game Boys or reading until it was time to go.
After Samarra and Punta Islita airstrips, Quepos is huge. It is asphalted, and even has a hut where they sell food and souvenirs. The flight itself had eleven of the twelve seats filled.
Quepos is much more built up that the area around Punta Islita (very small town). There are many hotels, homes, and adventure activities. The Manuel Antonio National Park greater region combines nearly all of Costa Rica for the traveler – zip lines, diving, sportfishing, kayaking, rafting, hiking, mountain biking, snorkeling, horse back riding, and more.
On the 15 minute shuttle ride to our final resort (Si Como No), I saw an older fellow on a broken down bike wearing a Hooters t-shirt. I doubt he’s been there. We passed a Chinese Restaurant. I immediately made plans to not go there. We passed some casinos, and there are realty signs everywhere.
Like in the Central Valley towns we went through the first few days of the trip, all of the houses and businesses in this area have metal bars on their windows and protective metal screens in front of the doors. It’s unusual to see the more than a one story building.
Carol has been using her Spanish more here, talking with the drivers and other workers.
So, we get to Si Como No (which means, “sure, why not?”). It’s very pretty, overlooking the ocean from halfway up the hillside (like Punta Islita). The only downside is that there is no direct route to the beach, so we either take the shuttle or I’m thinking about renting a car to make it easier to get around.
As we were finishing our lunch around 2pm, it (of course) started raining. Thus, we skipped the beach and the girls went to the pool for a while, until the lightning started around 3pm. It was pouring (surprise!). So we hung in the room for a few hours, napping or reading. Eventually, when the rain weakened (temporarily), I got the girls and we went to the Gift Shop to get Carol a couple of small birthday presents. Fortunately, we found a cool glass frog Christmas ornament, so it served as a two-fer – both a birthday present (we also got her something else) and a tree ornament, as we like to have one from every trip we take.
Dinner was good, as we went off-property to Marlins, a vibrant seafood restaurant with a bar above that had live music. I grossed the girls out by getting a whole fish (red snapper) and offered them the opportunity to eat the fish head. They, shockingly, declined.
The vibe at the restaurant helped revive us. We’ve actually considered breaking the trip off early (Mrs. Tourist is more willing to do that than I am – I hate admitting defeat). You’ll note that our big trips all come in odd numbered years – that’s because election years are too busy for any kind of lengthy trip. That’s why this is disappointing – it will be two years before the next big trip, and we’ve had to waste a bunch of time waiting out seemingly never ending rain. Fortunately, right now at 6am it is sunny, so today hopefully will be a good one. If the rain holds off till 4pm, then it’s a good day. I took no pictures yesterday – why bother in the rain?
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Costa Rican Riffs. . .
Note to friends, travel agents. . .Don't go to Costa Rica in the rainy season. It's a beautiful country with lots to do, but there are some points at which you just can't do what you want. We're heading to our next resort today. Yesterday, Carol checked to see if they have a local weather forecast. The only info on the website is that July-August is known as the "Green Season." Nice euphemism.
When we researched the weather, we focused on tempature -- it essentially stays the same here all year round. There's only been one short stretch that we thought was overly humid -- the rest of the time the temp/humidity has been fine. . .better than back home. But the rain is getting tiresome.
There's no truth to the rumor that we timed our trip to be out of the country when Barry Bonds broke Hank Aaron's record. It's just a happy coincidence. When Aaron broke the Babe's record, I was in the hospital for an operation -- and the nurses let me stay up to watch it (the only kid allowed to stay up). My shout of excitement brought the nurses running. It's better this way. . .that I haven't seen that chemicalized freak's 756th.
The Costa Ricans we've met are all very nice. They want to know where we are from, and how we like Costa Rica. Clearly they have a sense of pride in their country. . .and they want to make a good impression so word spreads about their hospitality.
We get letters. . .it's funny, people are emailing me individual comments, but only one person has posted a comment to the blog thus far.
Service here is generally pretty good, and comes with a smile. As an American, it's nice to not be wondering if they are back there spitting in our food (which may be the case, but they certainly don't give the impression, which is half of it). It's clearly a Spanish/Latino mix here, with no French.
Occasionally service can be a tad slow, but the trick at the end of the meal is to send the girls either back to the beach/pool (lunchtime) or to the suite (dinnertime). That's when the waiter gets the hint to bring the check.
So far, we've seen a two-toed sloth, several snakes, many frogs and lizards, a monkey, a large iguana, and a number of pretty birds. The next place we are going is noted for its wildlife, including monkeys and three-toed sloths.
The Yankees now have a better record than the Mets. Wireless internet service is great for blogging in the early morning and keeping up with the pennant race at night. My brother the Mets fan will point out that they are still in first. . .but he'll neglect to mention they play in the National League, which is the baseball equivalent of getting three or four mulligans. . .per nine holes.
Punta Islita is a great resort, but you have to come with the right mindset. It's out in the middle of nowhere, the beach is rocky, and the family pool isn't that large. However, we've all but had the place to ourselves (especially when it rains). Iron Tourists aren't deterred from the ocean just because of a little rain. However, it is quiet and relaxing. And private. Very private. With just 50 rooms, it's like having a hillside place of your own.
Remember, there is a dirt road leading in, and another one leading out. So don't expect much exploring off resort if you come -- we've been here two and a half days (three nights) and that's about the right amount of time. Couldn't see coming here for a week.
Next up is the zip line canopy tour, white water rafting, horseback riding, and some jungle tour/hike thingie. Hopefully we'll get back to the pattern of not raining until 4pm.
Today is Carol's birthday. . .two years ago we were in Hawaii and I figured we would wait to celebrate until we got back. Um, I was wrong about that. It cost me a nice Hawaiian piece of jewelry. Today's a travel day, but hopefully the weather will clear upon arrival and we can be outside a bit this afternoon.
When we researched the weather, we focused on tempature -- it essentially stays the same here all year round. There's only been one short stretch that we thought was overly humid -- the rest of the time the temp/humidity has been fine. . .better than back home. But the rain is getting tiresome.
There's no truth to the rumor that we timed our trip to be out of the country when Barry Bonds broke Hank Aaron's record. It's just a happy coincidence. When Aaron broke the Babe's record, I was in the hospital for an operation -- and the nurses let me stay up to watch it (the only kid allowed to stay up). My shout of excitement brought the nurses running. It's better this way. . .that I haven't seen that chemicalized freak's 756th.
The Costa Ricans we've met are all very nice. They want to know where we are from, and how we like Costa Rica. Clearly they have a sense of pride in their country. . .and they want to make a good impression so word spreads about their hospitality.
We get letters. . .it's funny, people are emailing me individual comments, but only one person has posted a comment to the blog thus far.
Service here is generally pretty good, and comes with a smile. As an American, it's nice to not be wondering if they are back there spitting in our food (which may be the case, but they certainly don't give the impression, which is half of it). It's clearly a Spanish/Latino mix here, with no French.
Occasionally service can be a tad slow, but the trick at the end of the meal is to send the girls either back to the beach/pool (lunchtime) or to the suite (dinnertime). That's when the waiter gets the hint to bring the check.
So far, we've seen a two-toed sloth, several snakes, many frogs and lizards, a monkey, a large iguana, and a number of pretty birds. The next place we are going is noted for its wildlife, including monkeys and three-toed sloths.
The Yankees now have a better record than the Mets. Wireless internet service is great for blogging in the early morning and keeping up with the pennant race at night. My brother the Mets fan will point out that they are still in first. . .but he'll neglect to mention they play in the National League, which is the baseball equivalent of getting three or four mulligans. . .per nine holes.
Punta Islita is a great resort, but you have to come with the right mindset. It's out in the middle of nowhere, the beach is rocky, and the family pool isn't that large. However, we've all but had the place to ourselves (especially when it rains). Iron Tourists aren't deterred from the ocean just because of a little rain. However, it is quiet and relaxing. And private. Very private. With just 50 rooms, it's like having a hillside place of your own.
Remember, there is a dirt road leading in, and another one leading out. So don't expect much exploring off resort if you come -- we've been here two and a half days (three nights) and that's about the right amount of time. Couldn't see coming here for a week.
Next up is the zip line canopy tour, white water rafting, horseback riding, and some jungle tour/hike thingie. Hopefully we'll get back to the pattern of not raining until 4pm.
Today is Carol's birthday. . .two years ago we were in Hawaii and I figured we would wait to celebrate until we got back. Um, I was wrong about that. It cost me a nice Hawaiian piece of jewelry. Today's a travel day, but hopefully the weather will clear upon arrival and we can be outside a bit this afternoon.
Everybody's Going Surfin', Surfin' Costa Rica (?)
It was raining again in the morning -- the storm that had started at 12:15 continued all night -- every so often I would wake up to an impressive lightning show. Nonetheless, the girls had a surfing lesson at 8:30, so we had breakfast and headed to the beach. Hoping that the lesson was still on. It was
Partway into the land part of the lesson, the rain stopped. I'd like to say the sky cleared, but this isn't a movie. There were a few patches of blue, but the sky was 80% clouds. We actually feel a bit cheated -- we would have been able to adapt to the idea that it rains every day from 4pm on, but this is virtually round the clock rain.
Two years ago, the four of us had taken a surf lesson in San Diego. Julia had done particularly well, and Torie and Maddy had both done okay. Me? Well, let's just quote Clint Eastwood and note that "a man's gots to know his limitations." One of my limitations is my bad, swollen ankle (from a dislocation in 1999) that makes the necessary pop-up move non-existent.
Thus, I was a spectator for the lesson (actually photographer). All three did well -- getting numerous rides and generally enjoying it. But, it is hard work -- fighting through the incoming surf, then getting in position and going. The instructor was good, patient, and encouraging.
(By the way, as I write this Sunday morning, it's raining again. Heavily.)
After about 90 minutes the lesson was over, and they'd all had enough of fighting to control the board (which seems harder for them than the actual surfing part). So of course they ditched their boards and went back in the ocean. The weather was iffy all day -- some rain, some sun, but always cloudy. I hadn't put on my swim trunks, so I stayed out of the ocean.
When they came in to go into the pool, Carol and I walked up the dirt road to the golf course. Some of you may be envisioning resort style golf. Don't. It's a nine hole, par three course featuring AMF rental clubs and pull carts. The advantage of it is that you don't need tee times (the pro at the course told me they get 8-10 players a day) and it doesn't take forever to play (which is why I generally don't like to play while on vacation -- that, and I'm not good enough to make it worth my while).
So we played the first nine on a pretty muddy track (at least it had stopped raining again despite the fact that it was drizzling while on our way up to the course). Then, we headed back to the beach for lunch as the girls joined us. I had the fish Casado, which is the Costa Rican dish that includes beans, rice, plaintains, tomatos, and a choice of chicken, beef, or fish. I think the fish was mahi mahi (it was good, but I never was certain what I was eating).
On the back nine (which is the same nine), we saw a four-five iguana lumber across one "fairway" and a monkey dashing to a tree just off the course near the eighth hole. Plus the trees were full of parakeets (which are pretty loud).
Did I mention it is pouring rain here?
We spent the rest of the afternoon quietly, either in the suite or up at the main lodge, playing some games and going to the gift shop. The girls were pretty tired from surfing. At 4pm it (brace yourself) started raining again. We picked out a DVD (Star wars II: Attack of the Clones) and got room service for dinner. The seafood spaghetti was excellent (Portuguese influenced sauce). Then came the fun of packing.
Partway into the land part of the lesson, the rain stopped. I'd like to say the sky cleared, but this isn't a movie. There were a few patches of blue, but the sky was 80% clouds. We actually feel a bit cheated -- we would have been able to adapt to the idea that it rains every day from 4pm on, but this is virtually round the clock rain.
Two years ago, the four of us had taken a surf lesson in San Diego. Julia had done particularly well, and Torie and Maddy had both done okay. Me? Well, let's just quote Clint Eastwood and note that "a man's gots to know his limitations." One of my limitations is my bad, swollen ankle (from a dislocation in 1999) that makes the necessary pop-up move non-existent.
Thus, I was a spectator for the lesson (actually photographer). All three did well -- getting numerous rides and generally enjoying it. But, it is hard work -- fighting through the incoming surf, then getting in position and going. The instructor was good, patient, and encouraging.
(By the way, as I write this Sunday morning, it's raining again. Heavily.)
After about 90 minutes the lesson was over, and they'd all had enough of fighting to control the board (which seems harder for them than the actual surfing part). So of course they ditched their boards and went back in the ocean. The weather was iffy all day -- some rain, some sun, but always cloudy. I hadn't put on my swim trunks, so I stayed out of the ocean.
When they came in to go into the pool, Carol and I walked up the dirt road to the golf course. Some of you may be envisioning resort style golf. Don't. It's a nine hole, par three course featuring AMF rental clubs and pull carts. The advantage of it is that you don't need tee times (the pro at the course told me they get 8-10 players a day) and it doesn't take forever to play (which is why I generally don't like to play while on vacation -- that, and I'm not good enough to make it worth my while).
So we played the first nine on a pretty muddy track (at least it had stopped raining again despite the fact that it was drizzling while on our way up to the course). Then, we headed back to the beach for lunch as the girls joined us. I had the fish Casado, which is the Costa Rican dish that includes beans, rice, plaintains, tomatos, and a choice of chicken, beef, or fish. I think the fish was mahi mahi (it was good, but I never was certain what I was eating).
On the back nine (which is the same nine), we saw a four-five iguana lumber across one "fairway" and a monkey dashing to a tree just off the course near the eighth hole. Plus the trees were full of parakeets (which are pretty loud).
Did I mention it is pouring rain here?
We spent the rest of the afternoon quietly, either in the suite or up at the main lodge, playing some games and going to the gift shop. The girls were pretty tired from surfing. At 4pm it (brace yourself) started raining again. We picked out a DVD (Star wars II: Attack of the Clones) and got room service for dinner. The seafood spaghetti was excellent (Portuguese influenced sauce). Then came the fun of packing.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
If the Eskimos have a zillion words for snow. . .
How many words do Costa Ricans have for rain?
It rained all Friday afternoon. At many points it was a downpour, and we couldn't see the ocean from our suite. Yesterday dawned bright and sunny -- best morning we'd had. But the clouds rolled in quickly, and fooled us by raining early and often.
It's 6:45 am Costa Rican time and it is still raining. The girls' surf lesson may or may not happen. They also have a nine hole executive course here that Carol and I were hoping to play -- and that looks like a washout. First we were going to play yesterday, and then this morning after the surf lesson -- but the course is probably under water.
Once the resort's wireless was fixed yesterday I had to spend a huge chunk of time going through emails. Then, I splashed up through the pouring rain to the main lodge and borrowed a DVD (Brosnan's last Bond -- "Die Another Day."). That's the Bond in which Madonna shows the acting depth and breadth of a refrigerator. The girls hadn't seen it, and we had only watched it once.
We took the shuttle up to the lodge for dinner, as the heavy rain added a thunder and lightning show. The show was amazing from above -- the lightning lit up the surrounding mountains, and the thunder shook the land a few times. The food was great at Restaurante 1492 -- I had the Red Snapper, Carol had the lobster and basil risotto, Maddy liked her Shrimp Fettucine (as long as there is pasta, she's happy), Torie had beef tenderloin, and Julia had some penne pasta.
We had planned on eating at the one restaurant in town, but with the storms decided it was easier to stay on property.
Well, time to get the rest of the family up for breakfast.
It rained all Friday afternoon. At many points it was a downpour, and we couldn't see the ocean from our suite. Yesterday dawned bright and sunny -- best morning we'd had. But the clouds rolled in quickly, and fooled us by raining early and often.
It's 6:45 am Costa Rican time and it is still raining. The girls' surf lesson may or may not happen. They also have a nine hole executive course here that Carol and I were hoping to play -- and that looks like a washout. First we were going to play yesterday, and then this morning after the surf lesson -- but the course is probably under water.
Once the resort's wireless was fixed yesterday I had to spend a huge chunk of time going through emails. Then, I splashed up through the pouring rain to the main lodge and borrowed a DVD (Brosnan's last Bond -- "Die Another Day."). That's the Bond in which Madonna shows the acting depth and breadth of a refrigerator. The girls hadn't seen it, and we had only watched it once.
We took the shuttle up to the lodge for dinner, as the heavy rain added a thunder and lightning show. The show was amazing from above -- the lightning lit up the surrounding mountains, and the thunder shook the land a few times. The food was great at Restaurante 1492 -- I had the Red Snapper, Carol had the lobster and basil risotto, Maddy liked her Shrimp Fettucine (as long as there is pasta, she's happy), Torie had beef tenderloin, and Julia had some penne pasta.
We had planned on eating at the one restaurant in town, but with the storms decided it was easier to stay on property.
Well, time to get the rest of the family up for breakfast.
We've Got Rats
Water rats that is. We were up early (there's not much of a nightlife where we've been in Costa Rica -- clearly need to hit the casinos in San Jose for that). After breakfast, we were the first to arrive at the beach.
The girls spent all morning in the ocean, except when I made them get out for a break. So, they went to the pool. (If you haven't figured it out by now, dear reader, our girls are the water rats -- they won't get out unless we make them. Admit it, however, the headline caused you to read this post, partly in hopes of some disgusting story about a resort with a rodent problem. And you thought the Weekly World News had good headlines.)
Our next stop is filled with activities (zip lines, rafting, horseback riding, etc.), but Mrs. Iron Tourist wanted a few days of doing nothing by the ocean, so that's what Punta Islita is for.
We tried to set up a surf lessons for the kids (I had tried it once -- with the ankle issue I have, I couldn't manuever fast enough), but it got rained out. And, the tide was so strong even the instructor wasn't enjoying his free time surfing. He tried it but the waves were too much.
We were going to have pizza by the ocean like we did yesterday, but the rains tricked us. Instead of coming at 4pmish as usual, it started raining at 12:15 -- and didn't let up all day. It sure brings out the frogs however -- Maddy counted 27 of the little guys on our glass doors leading to the pool at one point.
Boogy boarding in the ocean was fun, but frankly we all enjoyed jumping into, over, under, and through the waves more. Mrs. Tourist is happy to read her books by the ocean and watch the pelicans and the occasional plane. With these planes, we would not be surprised if we saw one going in for a landing and then suddenly seeing black smoke (we are NOT rooting for that, mind you, just half-expecting it).
After lunch, during the pouring rain, the girls went back into the water. Everyone else had beat a hasty retreat, but Julia, Maddy, and Torie spent another hour frolicking in the surf. Carol gave up and went back to the room. I was under a leaky thatched roof. Just when I gave up and went to pull the girls from the water, they decided they had been in long enough themselves.
It's a good thing they were wet from the ocean, because the walk back up the hill was during a soaking rain. They wanted to wait for the shuttle -- and I made us walk, figuing it would be faster. So, when the shuttle went past us -- full of dry people returning from lunch -- the girls gave me an earful.
My solace as a dad is knowing that walking from the ocean to the villa suite in Costa Rica during a pouring rain will help build character for them (it's a rough life they live). Some day, they will thank me for it. Just not today. Or tomorrow.
The girls spent all morning in the ocean, except when I made them get out for a break. So, they went to the pool. (If you haven't figured it out by now, dear reader, our girls are the water rats -- they won't get out unless we make them. Admit it, however, the headline caused you to read this post, partly in hopes of some disgusting story about a resort with a rodent problem. And you thought the Weekly World News had good headlines.)
Our next stop is filled with activities (zip lines, rafting, horseback riding, etc.), but Mrs. Iron Tourist wanted a few days of doing nothing by the ocean, so that's what Punta Islita is for.
We tried to set up a surf lessons for the kids (I had tried it once -- with the ankle issue I have, I couldn't manuever fast enough), but it got rained out. And, the tide was so strong even the instructor wasn't enjoying his free time surfing. He tried it but the waves were too much.
We were going to have pizza by the ocean like we did yesterday, but the rains tricked us. Instead of coming at 4pmish as usual, it started raining at 12:15 -- and didn't let up all day. It sure brings out the frogs however -- Maddy counted 27 of the little guys on our glass doors leading to the pool at one point.
Boogy boarding in the ocean was fun, but frankly we all enjoyed jumping into, over, under, and through the waves more. Mrs. Tourist is happy to read her books by the ocean and watch the pelicans and the occasional plane. With these planes, we would not be surprised if we saw one going in for a landing and then suddenly seeing black smoke (we are NOT rooting for that, mind you, just half-expecting it).
After lunch, during the pouring rain, the girls went back into the water. Everyone else had beat a hasty retreat, but Julia, Maddy, and Torie spent another hour frolicking in the surf. Carol gave up and went back to the room. I was under a leaky thatched roof. Just when I gave up and went to pull the girls from the water, they decided they had been in long enough themselves.
It's a good thing they were wet from the ocean, because the walk back up the hill was during a soaking rain. They wanted to wait for the shuttle -- and I made us walk, figuing it would be faster. So, when the shuttle went past us -- full of dry people returning from lunch -- the girls gave me an earful.
My solace as a dad is knowing that walking from the ocean to the villa suite in Costa Rica during a pouring rain will help build character for them (it's a rough life they live). Some day, they will thank me for it. Just not today. Or tomorrow.
Clark W. Griswold lives!
The paths go every which way here at Punta Islita in Guanacaste, Costa Rica. But the main path leads to the beach (it's a bit of a walk, and can be confusing).
The signs simply say, "Playa Beach." For a day or so, I thought that was some pathetic attempt to be hip-hop cool by the resort. Given that the capacity for guests is probably 120-150 total, I didn't think "Playa" was the right term for this place. There's very little of that vibe. It's far removed from the drunken pick-up genre of a Club Med.
It dawned on me (at least I got there by myself) that "Playa" is Spanish for beach. Wow, my three years of German in junior high and high school really don't come in handy one bit.
The signs simply say, "Playa Beach." For a day or so, I thought that was some pathetic attempt to be hip-hop cool by the resort. Given that the capacity for guests is probably 120-150 total, I didn't think "Playa" was the right term for this place. There's very little of that vibe. It's far removed from the drunken pick-up genre of a Club Med.
It dawned on me (at least I got there by myself) that "Playa" is Spanish for beach. Wow, my three years of German in junior high and high school really don't come in handy one bit.
Friday, August 10, 2007
It Never Rains in Sunny Costa Rica, It Only Pours. . .
I will write a more detailed entry on today later, but suffice it to say, the wireless at the resort has been fixed.
It is fun to watch your kids swimming in the ocean in the midst of a downpour. They had their own private beach, because everyone else was more sane than to be in the water.
And now the sun might be trying to come through! More later. . .
It is fun to watch your kids swimming in the ocean in the midst of a downpour. They had their own private beach, because everyone else was more sane than to be in the water.
And now the sun might be trying to come through! More later. . .
Welcome to the Jungle. . .
Our first stop was to be Samarra. As the small single prop plane (twelve passenger) banked back toward land over the Pacific, the cliffs and beaches looked beautiful. But there was no obvious airport. Suddenly, I noticed we were heading straight to a dirt road in the jungle. “Holy smokes,” I thought. Except it was a different word in the “s” family. But, this is a family publication – so like when Ralphie says “oh fudge” in a “Christmas Story” but not really that phrase, this version has been edited for simplicities sake.
We landed on the dirt strip, which was no wider than a country road. On either side there is the jungle. The plane slowed down, turned around on the grass, and headed back to the airport – which is nothing more than two benches and a cover. The beach was just across the road.
Four people got off the flight, and one guy got on. We missed having a private family flight to Punta Islita by one person. Take-off was good, and the ten minute flight took only about seven. The Punta Islita landing strip is actually paved, and it was in more of an open field. Compared to Samarra, this airfield was bustling. Other people had been waiting to catch a ride to the resort on the van – not sure where they came in from.
The road to the resort was relatively new – all dirt, with bumps and surrounded by jungle. Every so often, we would catch a view of the ocean as we climbed.
Punta Islita
We hadn’t had time for breakfast before leaving Villa Blanca, and the terminal for Sansa air was so small that there was no food for sale. So, upon arriving at Punta Islita we had an early lunch (or very late breakfast). Everyone was starving, so it was a necessity.
Each of the suite here are individual buildings terraced onto the hillside overlooking the ocean. There is a nice big kitchen/family room, and two nice bedrooms. Each unit has its own small pool, with a private patio overlooking the ocean.
After getting settled, we headed down to the beach. There’s a restaurant there, a pool, and lots of palm trees. Very quiet, uncrowded resort beach. It’s a black sand beach, with the one drawback being lots of rocks. No one sits on the beach – instead, there are lounge chairs and tables on the grass, with palm trees all around. Very nice.
We spent most of the afternoon in the Pacific ocean. Once you navigate past the rocks, the ocean itself is beautiful. It’s a rather large cove, with rocky points on either end to watch the surf smash. The waves are strong, but not so bad that the kids had any problems. The resort has a number of free boogie boards to borrow, but the kids and I preferred to duck, jump, or dive into the waves. They were probably in the 8-12 foot range, but most broke fairly far out. I had some good wave rides, but didn’t want to go too far and be carried into the rocky area. It’s actually easier to body surf in the Atlantic than the Pacific.
It’s the rainy season, so the kids finally came in around 4:30 when the downpour started. It was a classic tropical storm – thunder and lightning reverberating around the mountains, and after the sun went down the storm would illuminate the ocean off in the distance. The frogs all came out to bask in the rain, so as we scampered back to the room (probably a 200 yard uphill walk), we were accompanied by frogs hopping to get out of our way.
There’s no cell phone service here (this is a very remote area of Costa Rica), and the resort has wireless. . .except it is not working. Hopefully it will be fixed soon, so I can cut and paste these entries. As of this writing, it’s been nearly 36 hours since I was last able to check email or add to the blog.
For dinner, we walked through the rain (which had started to let up, but that was an illusion) back down to the restaurant at the ocean. We were the only ones there at 7pm – not till we were about to leave at 8:30 did another group (two couples) show up. I’m pretty sure the workers were disappointed when the next group showed – they were probably ready to go home. Food was good – Carol and I both had the surf and turf (not cheap, but not overly expensive), and the lobster was excellent. We walked back as the rain finally had let up.
It’s early Friday morning, and the sun is shining and the birds are singing.
We landed on the dirt strip, which was no wider than a country road. On either side there is the jungle. The plane slowed down, turned around on the grass, and headed back to the airport – which is nothing more than two benches and a cover. The beach was just across the road.
Four people got off the flight, and one guy got on. We missed having a private family flight to Punta Islita by one person. Take-off was good, and the ten minute flight took only about seven. The Punta Islita landing strip is actually paved, and it was in more of an open field. Compared to Samarra, this airfield was bustling. Other people had been waiting to catch a ride to the resort on the van – not sure where they came in from.
The road to the resort was relatively new – all dirt, with bumps and surrounded by jungle. Every so often, we would catch a view of the ocean as we climbed.
Punta Islita
We hadn’t had time for breakfast before leaving Villa Blanca, and the terminal for Sansa air was so small that there was no food for sale. So, upon arriving at Punta Islita we had an early lunch (or very late breakfast). Everyone was starving, so it was a necessity.
Each of the suite here are individual buildings terraced onto the hillside overlooking the ocean. There is a nice big kitchen/family room, and two nice bedrooms. Each unit has its own small pool, with a private patio overlooking the ocean.
After getting settled, we headed down to the beach. There’s a restaurant there, a pool, and lots of palm trees. Very quiet, uncrowded resort beach. It’s a black sand beach, with the one drawback being lots of rocks. No one sits on the beach – instead, there are lounge chairs and tables on the grass, with palm trees all around. Very nice.
We spent most of the afternoon in the Pacific ocean. Once you navigate past the rocks, the ocean itself is beautiful. It’s a rather large cove, with rocky points on either end to watch the surf smash. The waves are strong, but not so bad that the kids had any problems. The resort has a number of free boogie boards to borrow, but the kids and I preferred to duck, jump, or dive into the waves. They were probably in the 8-12 foot range, but most broke fairly far out. I had some good wave rides, but didn’t want to go too far and be carried into the rocky area. It’s actually easier to body surf in the Atlantic than the Pacific.
It’s the rainy season, so the kids finally came in around 4:30 when the downpour started. It was a classic tropical storm – thunder and lightning reverberating around the mountains, and after the sun went down the storm would illuminate the ocean off in the distance. The frogs all came out to bask in the rain, so as we scampered back to the room (probably a 200 yard uphill walk), we were accompanied by frogs hopping to get out of our way.
There’s no cell phone service here (this is a very remote area of Costa Rica), and the resort has wireless. . .except it is not working. Hopefully it will be fixed soon, so I can cut and paste these entries. As of this writing, it’s been nearly 36 hours since I was last able to check email or add to the blog.
For dinner, we walked through the rain (which had started to let up, but that was an illusion) back down to the restaurant at the ocean. We were the only ones there at 7pm – not till we were about to leave at 8:30 did another group (two couples) show up. I’m pretty sure the workers were disappointed when the next group showed – they were probably ready to go home. Food was good – Carol and I both had the surf and turf (not cheap, but not overly expensive), and the lobster was excellent. We walked back as the rain finally had let up.
It’s early Friday morning, and the sun is shining and the birds are singing.
Peace Out. . .
Enough digression about this morning. Back to yesterday. We stopped for lunch at a local place named “Freddo Fressa’s” – where we had our choices of five typically Costa Rican dishes (I will find the name at some point). It’s beans, rice, plantains, some potato-y like thingie, a tomato slice, and your choice of steak, pork chop, chicken, or a beef/tomato stew-esque thing.
Being the area for strawberries, they brought us a pitcher full of strawberry milkshakes. It was a good meal, and we all had the tres leches cake for dessert.
We piled back into the van, and headed to the backside of the Poas volcano for the La Paz ("the Peace") waterfalls. If you are in the San Jose area, the place is a must stop for an afternoon. First, you go into an aviary with all sorts of tropical birds. Including a macaw that surprisingly hopped onto Julia’s shoulder, then hung out on Carol’s wrist, and then visited with Maddy. Just when we thought we were done, it hopped onto my back. It would peck at us, but not cause any real pain – except when it spun around Carol’s arm. Doing a 360 mctwist scared it, because the macaw grabbed on tight – and my wife has the bruise to prove it.
From there, we went into the butterfly house, the snake house, and the frog house. It was pretty nifty searching for the different types of poison frogs right out in the open room. The tree frogs were hard to spot, but we got used to finding them on the undersides of the huge tree leaves. In the butterfly house, we could watch them emerging from their cocoon, and then drying their wings. When described to us, the place had the chance to be hokey, but it was great.
Then, it was off to the waterfalls. There are five of them – four major and one minor (but beautiful in its own right). The bigger four range in size from 75 to 110 feet high – and they are intense. All of them involve some climbing up or down – but it is all very accessible to the average tourists (not just the Iron Tourists). The mist and spray from the falls felt great, and again, I was surprised at how comfortable the temperature is (remember, it is winter here).
These folks also get tourism – the trail ends at a souvenir shop (sort of like the letting out part of a major Disney ride), but also with drinks and snacks. Fernando had driven the van down to that point, so it was easier than climbing all the way back up.
After the lengthy ride back to Villa Blanca, I wandered around the grounds a bit, stopping by the family chapel (the grounds had once been owned by a former President of Costa Rica – kind of the equivalent of Kennebunkport or Crawford).
Dinner was good. Carol and I split a bottle of Chilean red wine that was a blend of Merlot, Cab, and some grape neither of us had heard of. I had sea bass and shrimp, she had the marinated shrimp, and the kids had various meats, on which they did not enjoy the guave sauce (on the pork chop) or the guacamole-esque sauce (on the steak). But they were fine with the food.
Being the area for strawberries, they brought us a pitcher full of strawberry milkshakes. It was a good meal, and we all had the tres leches cake for dessert.
We piled back into the van, and headed to the backside of the Poas volcano for the La Paz ("the Peace") waterfalls. If you are in the San Jose area, the place is a must stop for an afternoon. First, you go into an aviary with all sorts of tropical birds. Including a macaw that surprisingly hopped onto Julia’s shoulder, then hung out on Carol’s wrist, and then visited with Maddy. Just when we thought we were done, it hopped onto my back. It would peck at us, but not cause any real pain – except when it spun around Carol’s arm. Doing a 360 mctwist scared it, because the macaw grabbed on tight – and my wife has the bruise to prove it.
From there, we went into the butterfly house, the snake house, and the frog house. It was pretty nifty searching for the different types of poison frogs right out in the open room. The tree frogs were hard to spot, but we got used to finding them on the undersides of the huge tree leaves. In the butterfly house, we could watch them emerging from their cocoon, and then drying their wings. When described to us, the place had the chance to be hokey, but it was great.
Then, it was off to the waterfalls. There are five of them – four major and one minor (but beautiful in its own right). The bigger four range in size from 75 to 110 feet high – and they are intense. All of them involve some climbing up or down – but it is all very accessible to the average tourists (not just the Iron Tourists). The mist and spray from the falls felt great, and again, I was surprised at how comfortable the temperature is (remember, it is winter here).
These folks also get tourism – the trail ends at a souvenir shop (sort of like the letting out part of a major Disney ride), but also with drinks and snacks. Fernando had driven the van down to that point, so it was easier than climbing all the way back up.
After the lengthy ride back to Villa Blanca, I wandered around the grounds a bit, stopping by the family chapel (the grounds had once been owned by a former President of Costa Rica – kind of the equivalent of Kennebunkport or Crawford).
Dinner was good. Carol and I split a bottle of Chilean red wine that was a blend of Merlot, Cab, and some grape neither of us had heard of. I had sea bass and shrimp, she had the marinated shrimp, and the kids had various meats, on which they did not enjoy the guave sauce (on the pork chop) or the guacamole-esque sauce (on the steak). But they were fine with the food.
Rooster Aware! Rooster Aware?
Driving to the airport, a fellow was jaywalking in San Ramon wearing a t-shirt that says, “Rooster Aware.” That gave me something to ponder for a while. But, you gotta admit, it’s pretty imponderable. But, at that point I needed something to take my mind off our predicament.
Yesterday, I had called to confirm our pick-up and flight to Punta Islita. At 5:30 am, when the van hadn’t shown yet, I got a little fidgety, but chalked it up to slow going in the dark for the driver. At 5:45, I paged the agency owner. He didn’t call us till 6:10, telling the resort receptionist that he couldn’t reach the driver but would call back soon.
At 6:15, when he called back, he asked how I was doing (in the polite way people do when they are simply starting a conversation, not that they really want to know). I noted that I’d be doing better if I was currently in a van on the way to the airport. He allowed how that was both true and unfortunate. The driver had problems and only now reached him by cell. “This is a mountainous country.” Translated from travel agent language to real language, that means, “the guy overslept.” Cell phones work fine, particularly along the route the driver would have taken.
Fortunately for us, the Villa Blanca people called back the employee shuttle van, which was taking the night workers back to San Ramon, and we piled in. Our driver made great time – slowing down occasionally at stop signs. We hit a traffic jam about 8 miles from the airport, but got past that fairly quickly.
(I actually feel bad for the travel agent owner – he’s not the guy who overslept, and now he’s got to not only refund us our money for the transfer, but also pay Villa Blanca for acting as his shuttle. I doubt it is a good day for his worker.)
We pulled into the airport and came to the Sansa regional terminal. Fortunately, it is incredibly small (about the size of a mid-sized Costa Rican house). Our driver took us straight to the door (yes, I tipped him well). No lines, no problems. Now, we are waiting for the flight in a waiting area in which you go past security to use the restroom. The men’s room has a window on the door in plain sight of the urinals. There is ample seating for roughly 15 people, so a lot of folks get to stand.
At least our soft luggage is on the bottom of the luggage cart with hard-sided suitcases on it. The surfer dude who was sleeping by sprawling across three valuable chairs was forced to share by a couple of American ladies of a certain age.
The poster on the wall says – “Welcome to Costa Rica. Why Choose Sansa?” Then, like a piece of contrast mail in a political campaign, it lists a number of areas (safety, service, professionalism), with key points underneath. By each, there is a checkmark under “Sansa” and a “No” under “Others.” Negative advertising is everywhere. And it works (unless we crash).
I talked for a bit with a guy flying somewhere nearby Punta Islita (45 minutes north). He’s from the Philly mainline, but also has a house on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Plus, he bought a house here in Costa Rica ten years ago. He first start coming to the country in 1986. “If I had bought then, I’d be a millionaire many times over,” he noted. But, he still paid a lot less for his house 100 meters from the beach in 1997 than it would cost now. He spends August and February here in Costa Rica, and sometimes comes down for Christmas with his wife.
He spent yesterday in San Jose drinking, gambling, and looking for his second wife. I didn’t ask any follow-up questions, primarily because, like you my faithful, I really didn’t want to know. If you know what I mean and I think you do. He headed out for his flight prior to trying to sell me narcotics, so that was nice.
Now, we’re just waiting to be called for our flight, which in theory leaves in six minutes.
Yesterday, I had called to confirm our pick-up and flight to Punta Islita. At 5:30 am, when the van hadn’t shown yet, I got a little fidgety, but chalked it up to slow going in the dark for the driver. At 5:45, I paged the agency owner. He didn’t call us till 6:10, telling the resort receptionist that he couldn’t reach the driver but would call back soon.
At 6:15, when he called back, he asked how I was doing (in the polite way people do when they are simply starting a conversation, not that they really want to know). I noted that I’d be doing better if I was currently in a van on the way to the airport. He allowed how that was both true and unfortunate. The driver had problems and only now reached him by cell. “This is a mountainous country.” Translated from travel agent language to real language, that means, “the guy overslept.” Cell phones work fine, particularly along the route the driver would have taken.
Fortunately for us, the Villa Blanca people called back the employee shuttle van, which was taking the night workers back to San Ramon, and we piled in. Our driver made great time – slowing down occasionally at stop signs. We hit a traffic jam about 8 miles from the airport, but got past that fairly quickly.
(I actually feel bad for the travel agent owner – he’s not the guy who overslept, and now he’s got to not only refund us our money for the transfer, but also pay Villa Blanca for acting as his shuttle. I doubt it is a good day for his worker.)
We pulled into the airport and came to the Sansa regional terminal. Fortunately, it is incredibly small (about the size of a mid-sized Costa Rican house). Our driver took us straight to the door (yes, I tipped him well). No lines, no problems. Now, we are waiting for the flight in a waiting area in which you go past security to use the restroom. The men’s room has a window on the door in plain sight of the urinals. There is ample seating for roughly 15 people, so a lot of folks get to stand.
At least our soft luggage is on the bottom of the luggage cart with hard-sided suitcases on it. The surfer dude who was sleeping by sprawling across three valuable chairs was forced to share by a couple of American ladies of a certain age.
The poster on the wall says – “Welcome to Costa Rica. Why Choose Sansa?” Then, like a piece of contrast mail in a political campaign, it lists a number of areas (safety, service, professionalism), with key points underneath. By each, there is a checkmark under “Sansa” and a “No” under “Others.” Negative advertising is everywhere. And it works (unless we crash).
I talked for a bit with a guy flying somewhere nearby Punta Islita (45 minutes north). He’s from the Philly mainline, but also has a house on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Plus, he bought a house here in Costa Rica ten years ago. He first start coming to the country in 1986. “If I had bought then, I’d be a millionaire many times over,” he noted. But, he still paid a lot less for his house 100 meters from the beach in 1997 than it would cost now. He spends August and February here in Costa Rica, and sometimes comes down for Christmas with his wife.
He spent yesterday in San Jose drinking, gambling, and looking for his second wife. I didn’t ask any follow-up questions, primarily because, like you my faithful, I really didn’t want to know. If you know what I mean and I think you do. He headed out for his flight prior to trying to sell me narcotics, so that was nice.
Now, we’re just waiting to be called for our flight, which in theory leaves in six minutes.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
"It's a Sloth -- It's not going anywhere soon."
Today was a long, good day. I woke up early -- and we were enshrouded in the clouds. This is known as a "Cloud Forest." At some point, I will probably figure out why. Can't imagine it has anything to do with the fact that we are always in the clouds.
After breakfast (which was good -- any time you can have plaintains with breakfast you are in a good place to be), we took our tour to the Poas Volcano and the La Paz Waterfall park. I was a bit worried about the situation -- I wasn't in control, someone else was driving (see Stefano and Pompeii, re the Italy section of this blog).
However, after meeting our driver Fernando and our guide I felt much better. Our guide was Warner -- from last night's nature hike. It turns out the Bolger family was the only group on the tour. So, we essentially had a spacious van, our own driver, and our own naturalist tour guide. That's the way to do it.
Warner picked up where he left off last night -- he was very interesting and informative, without overdoing it. It's a long drive to Poas Volcano (mostly because of the twisty-windy roads. Fortunately, like tomorrow for Orphan Annie, the sun came out and the day turned out clear (until the late afternoon, at which point it didn't matter).
Warner gave us an economics lesson first. He observed that -- by staying at Villa Blanca -- 50% of what we spend stays in Costa Rica, instead of only 10% if we stay at a Hilton or the Four Seasons. He talked about the multiplier effect (without using that phrase), and how 20% of the people now work in tourism. We felt good about ourselves. Julia was listening, interested. Torie and Maddy? Well, they were playing their Gameboys -- which is fine, because it teaches them who the best players in Major League Baseball are.
(Brief sidebar: right now, I'm sitting near the bar in the lobby of the resort. . .and a Costa Rican fellow is impressing on two Americans at the bar how important it is to stay at hotels like Villa Blanca rather than the Four Seasons for the economy and the people of Costa Rica. That's message discipline. I think I know the talking points that the locals get here.)
Warner was also interesting talking about the forests -- 50 years ago, 70% of the land was covered with forests. Twenty years ago, it was 20% covered, because the government encouraged clear cutting for agriculture. Now, it's back to 32% covered, because people realize it is both better for the land, and there is money to be made in eco-tourism.
(Another sidebar: Everyone here asks how we decided to come to Costa Rica, and they want to know what we think. Clearly they are a sales-driven people. . .and that's in a good way.)
Then, at another point, Warner talked about how coffee farming has changed -- from the old way to a new, sustainable way (my phrase, not his). It's higher quality coffee, and by using tree cover overhead, it's better for the environment. Good stuff. As a non-coffee drinker, if I did drink coffee, I'd want Costa Rican coffee. As long as I didn't have to buy it at Starbucks.
Anyhow, we stopped in Sarchi at a co-op (i.e. souvenir stand) to see the famed locally produced furniture and ox carts. Some of it was interesting, some it is typical tourist trap junk (see Venice blog entry for the family fascination with this stuff), and we bought a few items. Still need a Christmas ornament (a family tradition -- buy an ornament while on a trip).
It wasn't a long stop, so we piled back in and headed for Poas. That's a long climb up the volcano (roughly 8,000 feet up). As we went up, we went from the coffee areas to the fern/flower growing areas, to the strawberry farms. Instead of looking up at the clouds, we were looking down at the clouds and the valley. The sun was out, but the skies had plenty of clouds.
Eventually, we drove into the national park and parked (what else do you do at a park besides park?). It's a 2000 meter walk to the volcano's edge. . .and suddenly there it is -- smoking, steaming, sulpher from the crater. Apparently the last big blast was 1910, but they closed it for two weeks last year. It was cool in several ways. The view is amazing (although we couldn't see the Carribean Sea today because of the clouds), and the temperature had to be mid-60s at most. Many people were wearing sweatshirts and long pants. Not the Iron Tourist family -- we toughed it out in shorts and shortsleeves.
Because of the sulpher danger, they only allow folks to hang around for 20 minutes or so. After pictures and wandering around a bit, we headed back down to the car.
Warner was talking with Carol (Torie and I were stopping for pictures of the rainforest). He was asking about us. Carol mentioned I worked in politics (and she used to). Warner then told the story of how he met John McCain.
Apparently the Senator came to Villa Blanca shortly before running in 2000 for President. Warner was running the zip line, and had no idea who McCain was -- other than this nice guy who couldn't really lift his arms above his head (if this is news to you, please Google and read up on the torturing of John McCain). Once he learned who McCain is and why is important, Warner followed his career, hoping he helped out a President of the US. It was a neat story.
We then headed down the volcano road for lunch. We stopped at a roadside stand for some organic strawberries. Here's a hint on organic strawberries -- smaller ones are tastier. They aren't as red as the chemicalized ones, but the smallest ones are mighty sweet and the ones to grab.
Warner is a renaissance man. Besides being a very good naturalist guide -- as well as speaking clear English with a nifty Costa Rican accent, he has also started a program to donate computers to small rural (elementary) schools. He noted to us that he grew up in a rural area, and when he got to the large high school, he and his rural compatriots were far behind the others who had a computer lab at their bigger elementary schools. He's been successful at soliciting financial and used computer donations from several foreigners (both Americans and non-Americans).
Inspired by the simplicity and value of his program, I'm going to look into donating our old computers to his program. . .and please let me know if you are interested in helping out too.
Back in the van after the strawberry stop, we were cruising toward lunch under Fernando's faithful steerage, when Warner excitedly pointed at the trees and made Fernando stop. We pulled over -- "it's a sloth" Warner exclaimed. The kids rushed past me to get out -- I mumbled, "it's a sloth, it's not going anywhere."
Not just a sloth in the trees, but a two-toed sloth (they are rare). He was happily eating, hanging out (literally), and then we flagged down some other tourist vans to show off our find. Warner is amazing -- spotting many creatures the night before, and then the sloth (which I named "Stefano" -- see Italy blog entries for the explanation -- not that I'm STILL BITTER!).
Excited by the find, we hopped back into the van and headed for lunch. . .the afternoon story will be told in another entry. Keep an eye out for photos to be loaded of "Stefano the Sloth" if I have wireless tomorrow.
Until then, "pure vida" as they say in Costa Rica.
After breakfast (which was good -- any time you can have plaintains with breakfast you are in a good place to be), we took our tour to the Poas Volcano and the La Paz Waterfall park. I was a bit worried about the situation -- I wasn't in control, someone else was driving (see Stefano and Pompeii, re the Italy section of this blog).
However, after meeting our driver Fernando and our guide I felt much better. Our guide was Warner -- from last night's nature hike. It turns out the Bolger family was the only group on the tour. So, we essentially had a spacious van, our own driver, and our own naturalist tour guide. That's the way to do it.
Warner picked up where he left off last night -- he was very interesting and informative, without overdoing it. It's a long drive to Poas Volcano (mostly because of the twisty-windy roads. Fortunately, like tomorrow for Orphan Annie, the sun came out and the day turned out clear (until the late afternoon, at which point it didn't matter).
Warner gave us an economics lesson first. He observed that -- by staying at Villa Blanca -- 50% of what we spend stays in Costa Rica, instead of only 10% if we stay at a Hilton or the Four Seasons. He talked about the multiplier effect (without using that phrase), and how 20% of the people now work in tourism. We felt good about ourselves. Julia was listening, interested. Torie and Maddy? Well, they were playing their Gameboys -- which is fine, because it teaches them who the best players in Major League Baseball are.
(Brief sidebar: right now, I'm sitting near the bar in the lobby of the resort. . .and a Costa Rican fellow is impressing on two Americans at the bar how important it is to stay at hotels like Villa Blanca rather than the Four Seasons for the economy and the people of Costa Rica. That's message discipline. I think I know the talking points that the locals get here.)
Warner was also interesting talking about the forests -- 50 years ago, 70% of the land was covered with forests. Twenty years ago, it was 20% covered, because the government encouraged clear cutting for agriculture. Now, it's back to 32% covered, because people realize it is both better for the land, and there is money to be made in eco-tourism.
(Another sidebar: Everyone here asks how we decided to come to Costa Rica, and they want to know what we think. Clearly they are a sales-driven people. . .and that's in a good way.)
Then, at another point, Warner talked about how coffee farming has changed -- from the old way to a new, sustainable way (my phrase, not his). It's higher quality coffee, and by using tree cover overhead, it's better for the environment. Good stuff. As a non-coffee drinker, if I did drink coffee, I'd want Costa Rican coffee. As long as I didn't have to buy it at Starbucks.
Anyhow, we stopped in Sarchi at a co-op (i.e. souvenir stand) to see the famed locally produced furniture and ox carts. Some of it was interesting, some it is typical tourist trap junk (see Venice blog entry for the family fascination with this stuff), and we bought a few items. Still need a Christmas ornament (a family tradition -- buy an ornament while on a trip).
It wasn't a long stop, so we piled back in and headed for Poas. That's a long climb up the volcano (roughly 8,000 feet up). As we went up, we went from the coffee areas to the fern/flower growing areas, to the strawberry farms. Instead of looking up at the clouds, we were looking down at the clouds and the valley. The sun was out, but the skies had plenty of clouds.
Eventually, we drove into the national park and parked (what else do you do at a park besides park?). It's a 2000 meter walk to the volcano's edge. . .and suddenly there it is -- smoking, steaming, sulpher from the crater. Apparently the last big blast was 1910, but they closed it for two weeks last year. It was cool in several ways. The view is amazing (although we couldn't see the Carribean Sea today because of the clouds), and the temperature had to be mid-60s at most. Many people were wearing sweatshirts and long pants. Not the Iron Tourist family -- we toughed it out in shorts and shortsleeves.
Because of the sulpher danger, they only allow folks to hang around for 20 minutes or so. After pictures and wandering around a bit, we headed back down to the car.
Warner was talking with Carol (Torie and I were stopping for pictures of the rainforest). He was asking about us. Carol mentioned I worked in politics (and she used to). Warner then told the story of how he met John McCain.
Apparently the Senator came to Villa Blanca shortly before running in 2000 for President. Warner was running the zip line, and had no idea who McCain was -- other than this nice guy who couldn't really lift his arms above his head (if this is news to you, please Google and read up on the torturing of John McCain). Once he learned who McCain is and why is important, Warner followed his career, hoping he helped out a President of the US. It was a neat story.
We then headed down the volcano road for lunch. We stopped at a roadside stand for some organic strawberries. Here's a hint on organic strawberries -- smaller ones are tastier. They aren't as red as the chemicalized ones, but the smallest ones are mighty sweet and the ones to grab.
Warner is a renaissance man. Besides being a very good naturalist guide -- as well as speaking clear English with a nifty Costa Rican accent, he has also started a program to donate computers to small rural (elementary) schools. He noted to us that he grew up in a rural area, and when he got to the large high school, he and his rural compatriots were far behind the others who had a computer lab at their bigger elementary schools. He's been successful at soliciting financial and used computer donations from several foreigners (both Americans and non-Americans).
Inspired by the simplicity and value of his program, I'm going to look into donating our old computers to his program. . .and please let me know if you are interested in helping out too.
Back in the van after the strawberry stop, we were cruising toward lunch under Fernando's faithful steerage, when Warner excitedly pointed at the trees and made Fernando stop. We pulled over -- "it's a sloth" Warner exclaimed. The kids rushed past me to get out -- I mumbled, "it's a sloth, it's not going anywhere."
Not just a sloth in the trees, but a two-toed sloth (they are rare). He was happily eating, hanging out (literally), and then we flagged down some other tourist vans to show off our find. Warner is amazing -- spotting many creatures the night before, and then the sloth (which I named "Stefano" -- see Italy blog entries for the explanation -- not that I'm STILL BITTER!).
Excited by the find, we hopped back into the van and headed for lunch. . .the afternoon story will be told in another entry. Keep an eye out for photos to be loaded of "Stefano the Sloth" if I have wireless tomorrow.
Until then, "pure vida" as they say in Costa Rica.
Costa Rica Riffs
Readers always like my riffs, so here goes. . .
Tourism is turning Costa Ricans into entrepenuers. And that's a good thing. Lots of tourism related mom and pop businesses. Every canopy zip line is "the best in Costa Rica!" on the hand-painted signs. "Your horses await" is another. I'd say God Bless America right now, but really it's God Bless Costa Rica!
Unlike some parts of the lower part of this hemisphere, the folks in tourism here are all very nice, and happy to be doing what they are doing. Not picking on any other place we've been (the Bahamas -- whoops, did I say that out loud?), but some places aren't as welcoming.
We've only been here for a day and a half, but have covered huge sections of the country. Glad I'm NOT driving. It's not crazed like Italy drivers (or Irish, or Spanish), but would be difficult to know if we're on the right road. Frankly, there isn't much traffic here.
"Alto" in a red octagon sign (i.e. a STOP sign) doesn't mean the same here as in the US. "Stop" usually means, oh, I don't know -- Stop! But "Alto" appears to mean "roll on through, but don't actually brake!" Fortunately, not much traffic on the roads, but there are always two scenarios that quicken the pulse -- an approaching truck on a two lane road that is only about one and a half lanes wide, and rolling up to an "Alto" sign when traffic is zipping past.
People either drive a clunker from 1975 (which I suppose is a repetitive statement) or an SUV because the road conditions demand it. The longest straight part of the road we've been on must be all of half of a kilometer long (that's 0.31 miles, for those of you converting at home).
I took a ton of photos today, but will probably not post any till tomorrow. Got so much to write, and we've got an early (5:30 am) pick-up tomorrow.
Carol's only gotten to use her Spanish (which is better than she admits) once -- tonight whilst ordering dinner. She does follow along conversations to make sure we aren't getting the tourista squeeze -- which is a helpful skill to have. For the most part, the Costa Ricans we've met are fluent in English. Again -- our foreign language skills as a nation are sadly lacking.
Pilsen is a better Costa Rican beer than Imperial. But that's my personal opinion. And I'm right. I'm sure some people think Barry Bonds is a bigger hero than Hank Aaron. And they are wrong.
The moths here are the size of herons back home (okay, I exaggerate, but it's a literary -- or blogger? -- device to make a point). However, I don't make this up --plants here are amazingly huge. Elephant ears deserve the name.
The one thing we haven't done will driving around is stop at one of the little markets alongside the road. Sort of like the 7/11s of Costa Rica, but all individually owned. Remember when every small town in America had a general store -- where they had penny candy, some weird ice cream brands, and some local sodas along with Coca-Cola? (For example, Garris's General Store in Stillwater, NJ.) Well, that's Costa Rica today. I'd stop at nearly every one here just to try something different -- but I've not got control of the car, so we haven't stopped once.
Haven't had time to exchange dollars here for the Costa Rican currency -- but haven't needed too. Everyone takes dollars. Everyone likes dollars. Reminds me of Bulgaria before the Commies fell. I exchanged for a bunch of Bulgarian money, and no one would accept it from me -- dollars only. (Not true here -- they'll take either, but it is a reminder of a 1989 trip.)
More riffs to come. . .I do like this country and her people. The flag needs a little sprucing up though! (Google it if you don't believe me).
Tourism is turning Costa Ricans into entrepenuers. And that's a good thing. Lots of tourism related mom and pop businesses. Every canopy zip line is "the best in Costa Rica!" on the hand-painted signs. "Your horses await" is another. I'd say God Bless America right now, but really it's God Bless Costa Rica!
Unlike some parts of the lower part of this hemisphere, the folks in tourism here are all very nice, and happy to be doing what they are doing. Not picking on any other place we've been (the Bahamas -- whoops, did I say that out loud?), but some places aren't as welcoming.
We've only been here for a day and a half, but have covered huge sections of the country. Glad I'm NOT driving. It's not crazed like Italy drivers (or Irish, or Spanish), but would be difficult to know if we're on the right road. Frankly, there isn't much traffic here.
"Alto" in a red octagon sign (i.e. a STOP sign) doesn't mean the same here as in the US. "Stop" usually means, oh, I don't know -- Stop! But "Alto" appears to mean "roll on through, but don't actually brake!" Fortunately, not much traffic on the roads, but there are always two scenarios that quicken the pulse -- an approaching truck on a two lane road that is only about one and a half lanes wide, and rolling up to an "Alto" sign when traffic is zipping past.
People either drive a clunker from 1975 (which I suppose is a repetitive statement) or an SUV because the road conditions demand it. The longest straight part of the road we've been on must be all of half of a kilometer long (that's 0.31 miles, for those of you converting at home).
I took a ton of photos today, but will probably not post any till tomorrow. Got so much to write, and we've got an early (5:30 am) pick-up tomorrow.
Carol's only gotten to use her Spanish (which is better than she admits) once -- tonight whilst ordering dinner. She does follow along conversations to make sure we aren't getting the tourista squeeze -- which is a helpful skill to have. For the most part, the Costa Ricans we've met are fluent in English. Again -- our foreign language skills as a nation are sadly lacking.
Pilsen is a better Costa Rican beer than Imperial. But that's my personal opinion. And I'm right. I'm sure some people think Barry Bonds is a bigger hero than Hank Aaron. And they are wrong.
The moths here are the size of herons back home (okay, I exaggerate, but it's a literary -- or blogger? -- device to make a point). However, I don't make this up --plants here are amazingly huge. Elephant ears deserve the name.
The one thing we haven't done will driving around is stop at one of the little markets alongside the road. Sort of like the 7/11s of Costa Rica, but all individually owned. Remember when every small town in America had a general store -- where they had penny candy, some weird ice cream brands, and some local sodas along with Coca-Cola? (For example, Garris's General Store in Stillwater, NJ.) Well, that's Costa Rica today. I'd stop at nearly every one here just to try something different -- but I've not got control of the car, so we haven't stopped once.
Haven't had time to exchange dollars here for the Costa Rican currency -- but haven't needed too. Everyone takes dollars. Everyone likes dollars. Reminds me of Bulgaria before the Commies fell. I exchanged for a bunch of Bulgarian money, and no one would accept it from me -- dollars only. (Not true here -- they'll take either, but it is a reminder of a 1989 trip.)
More riffs to come. . .I do like this country and her people. The flag needs a little sprucing up though! (Google it if you don't believe me).
"This is pretty interesting"
Phew -- when one of your kids says that, it makes the activity worthwhile. And, about 15 minutes into our nocturnal nature hike in the Cloud Forest, that's what Torie said.
Yesterday was mostly a travel day, getting from DC to Costa Rica, but I had scheduled a nocturnal hike here at our green resort in Cloud Forest as a way breaking into the trip. (By the way, it's ironic how all the workers at the environmentally conscious resort drive SUVs. Well, as John Madden once said during a football game, "irony can be so ironic.")
Torie was right -- the walk was interesting. We were the only ones to sign up for it, so we got a private family tour with flashlights and a naturalist named Werner. Despite the name, he was 100% Costa Rican and did NOT speak with a German accent. The resort -- Villa Blanca, in case you'd like to Google it -- is small and a long way from anything. Very, very quiet. It's mostly used as a jumping off point to explore the mountain regions, cloud forests, and volcanoes of the area.
On our way from our rooms (which are in little buildings scattered around the grounds), it was raining, thundering, and the occasional lightning off in the distance. We couldn't see because of the clouds and the dusk.
Don't have a heart attack, but as of this writing, I've taken no pictures. Zero. Nada. None. It's been too cloudy, drizzily. The weather here around 3600 feet (my estimate -- it's roughly 1100 meters, so I'm winging the math a bit) is very cool -- probably mid-60s. I of course underpacked -- figuring it's the tropics. The girls and Carol all brought raincoats, and I had my $0.89 rain poncho. Once we got under the forest cover, however, very little rain made it's way to us.
Warner the naturalist took us to a tree even before heading up the trail, and pointed out that there are 200 different trees -- probably 20-30 kinds -- living on that one tree site. That was pretty interesting, and then he pointed out a variety of different bugs and how they live off the various trees, using camoflauge to protect themselves. There's more camoflauge on one branch than on all the skis slopes of Virginia (and that's a LOT!).
Then, as we went into the forest, he would show us plants and creatures of the night, talking about them. Which plants could be eaten or used for medicine, how various critters hunted and their mating rituals. The thinnest snake I've ever seen was a highlight, as was the Barry Bonds-like cricket (on steriods, of course) that jumped on Torie. She wasn't fond of the cricket. We saw a very small frog (and heard many others).
Besides the snake (which didn't speak Parseltongue, though we tried), the other very interesting critter was the owl moth. Besides being huge, when you spread its wings, it looks just like an owl's head -- big eyes, mouth, coloring. That's to scare birds into leaving it alone. Amazing defense system.
After the hike (which was easy), we had a late dinner and then went to bed. We all had gotten up early, and Costa Rica is currently two hours behind EDT (it's Central time, but no daylight savings time).
The airport scene was fine -- a long line for immigration, but it moved along fine. The problem came when we found four of our five pieces of checked luggage, but not my bag. In Rome, it was fine when no bags showed up -- that just meant it hadn't made the transfer in Frankfurt because our flight was delayed from Dulles. However, one bag missing meant either a screw-up or someone grabbed the wrong bag. Eventually, Carol found it off to the side -- some lazy jerk had probably grabbed it and then set it aside after a bit when they realized it wasn't their bag. Ten feet was too far to walk to put it back on the carousel.
The ride to Villa Blanca was interesting -- probably 90 minutes, although I didn't note the departure/arrival times closely. We went up the Pan American highway to San Ramon, turned right and drove a ways on a winding, one lane road. At one point we had to stop because there was a cow in the road. I noted to our driver he should have been going faster so we could have had beef for dinner. He chuckled.
He also briefed us on the drive about the country -- roughly the size of West Virginia. It's somewhat reminscent of that state -- greener, but mountainous with ups and downs (hollows in WV, not sure what they are called here), beautiful sights, fair amount of poor folks. Cars parked on yards in both places. Just don't tell Senator Byrd -- he's so addled he'd probably start directing grants to Costa Rica, thinking it's part of his home state.
Although, maybe my blackberry/cell phone would work here if he did that. It's supposed to, so this is a tad frustrating. People have told me I have to take vacations and not be connected. . .sorry, no can do. Being in business for one's self requires it. Hopefully the other resorts also have wireless.
Anyhow, it's off to a volcano/waterfall tour today. I'm modestly nervous -- I'm not driving (a precondition Carol put on coming here), so we are at the mercy of someone else's schedule. Well, I've got to relax and let whatever happens, happens -- as long as it's not another Stefano situation (see drive to Pompeii blog entry).
Yesterday was mostly a travel day, getting from DC to Costa Rica, but I had scheduled a nocturnal hike here at our green resort in Cloud Forest as a way breaking into the trip. (By the way, it's ironic how all the workers at the environmentally conscious resort drive SUVs. Well, as John Madden once said during a football game, "irony can be so ironic.")
Torie was right -- the walk was interesting. We were the only ones to sign up for it, so we got a private family tour with flashlights and a naturalist named Werner. Despite the name, he was 100% Costa Rican and did NOT speak with a German accent. The resort -- Villa Blanca, in case you'd like to Google it -- is small and a long way from anything. Very, very quiet. It's mostly used as a jumping off point to explore the mountain regions, cloud forests, and volcanoes of the area.
On our way from our rooms (which are in little buildings scattered around the grounds), it was raining, thundering, and the occasional lightning off in the distance. We couldn't see because of the clouds and the dusk.
Don't have a heart attack, but as of this writing, I've taken no pictures. Zero. Nada. None. It's been too cloudy, drizzily. The weather here around 3600 feet (my estimate -- it's roughly 1100 meters, so I'm winging the math a bit) is very cool -- probably mid-60s. I of course underpacked -- figuring it's the tropics. The girls and Carol all brought raincoats, and I had my $0.89 rain poncho. Once we got under the forest cover, however, very little rain made it's way to us.
Warner the naturalist took us to a tree even before heading up the trail, and pointed out that there are 200 different trees -- probably 20-30 kinds -- living on that one tree site. That was pretty interesting, and then he pointed out a variety of different bugs and how they live off the various trees, using camoflauge to protect themselves. There's more camoflauge on one branch than on all the skis slopes of Virginia (and that's a LOT!).
Then, as we went into the forest, he would show us plants and creatures of the night, talking about them. Which plants could be eaten or used for medicine, how various critters hunted and their mating rituals. The thinnest snake I've ever seen was a highlight, as was the Barry Bonds-like cricket (on steriods, of course) that jumped on Torie. She wasn't fond of the cricket. We saw a very small frog (and heard many others).
Besides the snake (which didn't speak Parseltongue, though we tried), the other very interesting critter was the owl moth. Besides being huge, when you spread its wings, it looks just like an owl's head -- big eyes, mouth, coloring. That's to scare birds into leaving it alone. Amazing defense system.
After the hike (which was easy), we had a late dinner and then went to bed. We all had gotten up early, and Costa Rica is currently two hours behind EDT (it's Central time, but no daylight savings time).
The airport scene was fine -- a long line for immigration, but it moved along fine. The problem came when we found four of our five pieces of checked luggage, but not my bag. In Rome, it was fine when no bags showed up -- that just meant it hadn't made the transfer in Frankfurt because our flight was delayed from Dulles. However, one bag missing meant either a screw-up or someone grabbed the wrong bag. Eventually, Carol found it off to the side -- some lazy jerk had probably grabbed it and then set it aside after a bit when they realized it wasn't their bag. Ten feet was too far to walk to put it back on the carousel.
The ride to Villa Blanca was interesting -- probably 90 minutes, although I didn't note the departure/arrival times closely. We went up the Pan American highway to San Ramon, turned right and drove a ways on a winding, one lane road. At one point we had to stop because there was a cow in the road. I noted to our driver he should have been going faster so we could have had beef for dinner. He chuckled.
He also briefed us on the drive about the country -- roughly the size of West Virginia. It's somewhat reminscent of that state -- greener, but mountainous with ups and downs (hollows in WV, not sure what they are called here), beautiful sights, fair amount of poor folks. Cars parked on yards in both places. Just don't tell Senator Byrd -- he's so addled he'd probably start directing grants to Costa Rica, thinking it's part of his home state.
Although, maybe my blackberry/cell phone would work here if he did that. It's supposed to, so this is a tad frustrating. People have told me I have to take vacations and not be connected. . .sorry, no can do. Being in business for one's self requires it. Hopefully the other resorts also have wireless.
Anyhow, it's off to a volcano/waterfall tour today. I'm modestly nervous -- I'm not driving (a precondition Carol put on coming here), so we are at the mercy of someone else's schedule. Well, I've got to relax and let whatever happens, happens -- as long as it's not another Stefano situation (see drive to Pompeii blog entry).
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Peachy Keen
Sitting in the Charlotte airport, waiting to board to San Jose, Costa Rica. Can't stop humming, "Do you know the way to San Jose?" in my head. I KNOW that one is about California, but the key thing is -- you probably can't stop humming that song right now either.
No picture of the girls waiting at Dulles. Catching a flight to Charlotte isn't quite as dramatic as flying to Germany on the way to Rome.
I'm quite please with my Teva-esque hiking sandals. Got them at Hudson Trail Outfitters -- made by Keen. May have to post a photo. Now that would be total blogaloser geekdom. (I gotta do it). At some point on the beach or a mountain trail, I will take a picture of my feet.
Forgot sunglasses, so I got to overpay here at Charlotte Airport. On the way to the gate, nearly got run over by one of those annoyingly loud beeping carts. They are part of travel -- good for handicapped folks. However, this cart stopped, and a woman of a certain age got off, carrying her non-dog dog. No limp, no noticeable problem. Nice abuse of airport facilties.
(For the uninitiated, a non-dog dog is one of the those amazingly little, yappy dogs that doesn't realize it's actually an animal and not a person -- and neither does its owner. While I take solace in knowing the woman undoubtedly overpaid for the long-haired rat.)
Well, hopefully I will have good connectivity in Costa Rica -- we're on the plane and getting ready to go.
No picture of the girls waiting at Dulles. Catching a flight to Charlotte isn't quite as dramatic as flying to Germany on the way to Rome.
I'm quite please with my Teva-esque hiking sandals. Got them at Hudson Trail Outfitters -- made by Keen. May have to post a photo. Now that would be total blogaloser geekdom. (I gotta do it). At some point on the beach or a mountain trail, I will take a picture of my feet.
Forgot sunglasses, so I got to overpay here at Charlotte Airport. On the way to the gate, nearly got run over by one of those annoyingly loud beeping carts. They are part of travel -- good for handicapped folks. However, this cart stopped, and a woman of a certain age got off, carrying her non-dog dog. No limp, no noticeable problem. Nice abuse of airport facilties.
(For the uninitiated, a non-dog dog is one of the those amazingly little, yappy dogs that doesn't realize it's actually an animal and not a person -- and neither does its owner. While I take solace in knowing the woman undoubtedly overpaid for the long-haired rat.)
Well, hopefully I will have good connectivity in Costa Rica -- we're on the plane and getting ready to go.
Monday, August 6, 2007
It's Back. . .I Hope
Tomorrow we leave on our second international trip this year (Carol's third) -- heading to Costa Rica. Hopefully the wireless internet card will work there -- in theory it will, although we'll be somewhat off the beaten path. Looking at our schedule, it is fairly daunting -- even for the Iron Tourist, but there are a few days of R&R in the middle of it. Four of us have been sick in the last couple of weeks (me just this past weekend), so there is a run-down feeling in the household. Hopefully this will rejuvenate us and not wear us out.
I'll wait till I know I have internet access before emailing everyone a note to check the blog on a regular basis between now and August 17th.
I'll wait till I know I have internet access before emailing everyone a note to check the blog on a regular basis between now and August 17th.
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