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.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
"Never Let Schooling Get In The Way of Your Education"
As said by Mark Twain.
Carol and I used that line to justify allowing the girls to miss three days of school. That gave us three extra days in Italy -- which will give them memories to last a lifetime (and if they get hazy on the details, they can always check the blog).
We're back, it's a very cold Easter day. The return was uneventful. I enjoyed "Blood Diamond" on the plane, Torie did homework, watched TV, read and slept next to me. Julia had a woman next to her from Moldova. Since the woman spoke no English, Julia filled out her customs paperwork. Nice of her to help the woman navigate the bureaucracy.
Anyhow, I will be adding a few more pictures to the blog later today or so, but this marks the last entry. Thanks for the emails, and I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Final stats: Torie saw 82 nuns. Glen had eight conference calls. We went into countless churches.
Torie's highlights -- Venice was her favorite city. Pompeii and the Colosseum was her favorite things to see. Favorite food: Pizza Margherita. Favorite gelatto: Mint Chocolate Chip.
Maddy's highlights -- Favority city: Venice and Rome. Favorite thing to see: Pompeii and the Colosseum. Favorite food: Fettucine Alfredo at Alfredo's. Favorite gelatto flavor: After Eight.
Julia's highlights -- Favorite city: Venice. Favorite thing to see: St. Mark's Square. Favorite food: Pasta. Favorite gelatto flavor: Fragola (strawberry).
Carol's highlights -- Favorite city: Montalpulciano. Favorite thing to see: Sistine Chapel. Favorite food: Colline Emilia dinner. Favorite gelatto flavor: Stracittella.
Glen's highlights -- Favorite city: The Hill Towns of Tuscany. Favorite thing to see: Pompeii. Favorite food: The ravioli in Radda in Chianti. Favority gelatto flavor: Frutti di Bosco.
Ciao
Carol and I used that line to justify allowing the girls to miss three days of school. That gave us three extra days in Italy -- which will give them memories to last a lifetime (and if they get hazy on the details, they can always check the blog).
We're back, it's a very cold Easter day. The return was uneventful. I enjoyed "Blood Diamond" on the plane, Torie did homework, watched TV, read and slept next to me. Julia had a woman next to her from Moldova. Since the woman spoke no English, Julia filled out her customs paperwork. Nice of her to help the woman navigate the bureaucracy.
Anyhow, I will be adding a few more pictures to the blog later today or so, but this marks the last entry. Thanks for the emails, and I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Final stats: Torie saw 82 nuns. Glen had eight conference calls. We went into countless churches.
Torie's highlights -- Venice was her favorite city. Pompeii and the Colosseum was her favorite things to see. Favorite food: Pizza Margherita. Favorite gelatto: Mint Chocolate Chip.
Maddy's highlights -- Favority city: Venice and Rome. Favorite thing to see: Pompeii and the Colosseum. Favorite food: Fettucine Alfredo at Alfredo's. Favorite gelatto flavor: After Eight.
Julia's highlights -- Favorite city: Venice. Favorite thing to see: St. Mark's Square. Favorite food: Pasta. Favorite gelatto flavor: Fragola (strawberry).
Carol's highlights -- Favorite city: Montalpulciano. Favorite thing to see: Sistine Chapel. Favorite food: Colline Emilia dinner. Favorite gelatto flavor: Stracittella.
Glen's highlights -- Favorite city: The Hill Towns of Tuscany. Favorite thing to see: Pompeii. Favorite food: The ravioli in Radda in Chianti. Favority gelatto flavor: Frutti di Bosco.
Ciao
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