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| I picked up Leah at San Jose International Airport on the night of April 7th. She had just finished a two week tour of Jamaica with a couple of her girlfriends. We drove to down town and a friendly taxi driver helped us find a hotel. Took it easy in the morning then headed out to the Pacific coast. Stopped at a bay-side restaurant for a beer and snacks. Our server offered to show us around the area on his upcoming days off. We took his number and said we'd call him if we were still in the area. He advised us to drive a few more miles to Boca Barranca to camp for the night. Boca Barranca is "The second longest left in the world." This means that the waves that break on the beach here continue to break to the surfer's left for a long time--a couple of miles when big waves come in. The beach consisted of a Restaurant/Karaoke Bar and a two room hotel. We talked to the restaurant manager about camping on the beach. For a small fee their night watchman would keep an eye on us. We talked with the hotel manager and negotiated a reasonable price and decided to stay there. Karaoke wailed on to the wee hours of the night. The all time favorite song over our stay at Boca Barranca was "How Deep Is Your Love" by the Bee Gees! We never had the nerve to join them. A swell came in making good waves for surfing. We hiked to some near by beaches and made minor repairs on Mo. Days were hot, but evenings were cooled by ocean breezes. The second room of the hotel was occupied by a couple whose car had broken down. Got to know them a little bit and they gave us an open invitation to visit them at their home near San Jose. Next we headed north and stopped briefly in the cruise ship port of Puntarenas. We stayed in a cheap hotel. They let us park Mo in the alley near the office entrance. A 3 year old boy speaking nonsense followed us up to our room and wanted to look through all of our stuff and seemed to want to stay with us. Whose kid was this? We went out for dinner and wandered the streets of town. On our way back we were a little bit lost, but not concerned--it was nice evening to be out. A bum off the street, who had seen us earlier in the day, walked with us and offered to show us the way back to our hotel. He was young and sober, but dressed in filthy rags. I gave him 150 pesos (about 50 cents). He clanged the stack of three coins stacked atop one another several times through his fingers, as if imagining what he would spend each coin on. He said our car would be OK for the night--he would watch out for it. We left early in the morning. As I walked out to the car, our bum-friend walked out from behind the hotel. He smiled and waved as he headed into town. The three year old boy wandered out of the hotel. He walked up to Mo and began tugging on the rubber shark on Mo's grill. I scolded him but he did not seem to care. I went back up to the room to grab the last of our things. When I returned both the little boy and the shark were gone. We left town, stopping only to pick up a birthday cake for Leah. Up into the cooler mountains we went. We made it to Nuevo Arenal, a small, rainy town on Lago Arenal, an expansive reservoir filling a long mountain valley. The next morning was Leah's 27th birthday! We had a "Typical Breakfast." Many restaurants proclaim on their signs and walls in large letters that they serve "Typical Food." I'm not sure what this really means. Perhaps Costa Rican ("Tico") restaurant goers are a conservative lot, and do not want to be surprised by the menu. We preceded to the town of La Fortuna, at the base of Volcan Arenal, an active volcano. Met Tom of "Tom's Pan" (Tom's Bread). He is an ex-patriot who thinks La Fortuna is the best place in the world. He bakes his bread in the morning and pedals it around on a three wheeled bicycle until he sells it. He brought us up to speed on life in here. Found an affordable hostel and went for a hike to a jungle waterfall and marveled at the flowers, birds, moss and mist. Stopped on the way back for a dip in the Tabacon Hot Springs. The parking attendant informed us that we must back into our parking spot so we could make a quick escape in the event of an eruption. There was a steep cover charge, but it was worth it. Rivers of hot water flowed through spectacular botanical gardens, where pools of different temperatures were hidden. Secret coves hid behind waterfalls. We unknowingly stayed until after closing because we escaped the attendants notice in a small pool at the edge of the park. Oblivious, we went to get to get some water and a guard came running after us, thinking we had snuck in. As we left the guard asked for a ride to town. I agreed. Leah freaked out. In Jamaica, traveling in a group of women, she had come to distrust and dislike foreign men. They are often rudely sexually forward with American women. I was a bit confused. Men in Central America were generally appropriately friendly to me. I generally gave people rides. Most people do not have cars down here and it only made sense to help them out if I had room. Heck, I never knew if Mo might die on me and I might need a ride. Also, it is an interesting way to talk to a local and get the flavor of what was going on and what life was like in an area. This guy told us a local folk tale about how humming birds turn into worms in the dry season and go into the ground. Something about a coyote too. I couldn't get the whole story he told from the back seat--it was difficult to comfort Leah and carry on a conversation in Spanish at the same time. We dropped him off and went for a late night Chinese dinner. The next day the weather cleared out a bit and we went on a mission to see magma. All the post cards of the volcano show it in its full streaming and erupting glory, like a 4th of July fountain. We drove through the countryside and had glimpses of the volcanic cone, but no magma. We stopped at a "zoo" where we found one cage with a couple of small, hairless creatures. On around the other side of the volcano we went to the National Park viewing post. We had a picnic and watched a sulfurous cloud rise from the cone. The mountain made one large, resounding burp. A little scary, but no magma. On the way back to town we stopped at a smaller, more affordable hot springs. Leah saw a Jesus Christ lizard run across the steaming stream feeding the hot pools as we entered. We soaked until well after dark. The next day we had a relaxing morning, and wandered around town a bit. Had lunch at a Texas style BBQ restaurant. The wait staff dressed like Texans in full cowboy garb--black cowboy boots, Wrangler jeans, large silver belt buckles, denim shirts with bolo ties, and white cowboy hats. We had some very tough BBQ beef ribs. My next Texas BBQ will be in Texas! Headed out of town on our way to the cloud forests of Monte Verde. Stopped for a night of camping at a park on the shores of Lago Arenal. Beautiful camp on a grassy knoll overlooking the lake. It was a Friday night and the local teens (not unlike their counterparts in the States) found the lakeside park a great place to drink, sing, and play loud music until the wee hours of the night! The next day was a long day of driving. Back out to the dry hot coastal plane and then back up into the mountains on a bumpy gravel road. Though Costa Rica has the highest standard of living in Central America, they do not spend much money on their roads. The road got progressively worse. We were concerned as we were supposedly on the road to a major national park. We arrived at a small town at the edge of the park, and went into a small grocery. A small parrot sat on the lip of the trash can. The shopkeeper lady explained that the parrot just arrived one day and has never left. She named him "Paquito." Sometimes he would fly to her when she called: "Paquito...Venga!" We found a cheap place to camp on a grassy terrace behind a hotel. Leah found a yellow-green metallic scarab beetle we had only partly crushed driving in. She later glued it to the dash board at the base of the carved wooden saguaro cactus. Off we went to the butterfly sanctuary. Many flitted around enclosures recreating different climates around Costa Rica. They showed us beetles that contain antihistamines, which have long been eaten (alive) by local asthma sufferers to relieve their symptoms. They dug up part of a leaf cutter ant colony and put it in a glass-topped box so you could see them farming mold on their leaf fragments. The ants marched up and down a stick between the box and a tree. There were chrysalises of many different types of butterflies hung in a cage. Some were hatching. Some of the chrysalises were silver, mimicking rain drops, some translucent making them hard to see under a leaf, and others mimicked leaves and branches. They also had pet tarantulas and a scorpion with its babies crawling all over it. Later we went by a jungle tour shop and signed up for a night tour of the rainforest. Adrian, a Costa Rican counterpart to the Crockadile Hunter, was our tour guide. He warned us of poisonous coral snakes, which sometimes dropped out of the trees when they fell asleep. We were in a group with 6 other tourists, all from big east coast U.S. cities. They were a bit terrified walking around in the jungle at night. We saw a two toed sloth, bats hanging under banana leaves, a small roosted purple and white bird with 2 black tail feathers much longer than its body, a dart frog, glowing beetles, worms, and flies, and a large furry thing running through the forest. Adrian teased a small stick with a leaf at its end in front of holes in the ground and coaxed out tarantulas. He told us a story of how he was once bitten by a tarantula. It was on his hand and just clamped down with its fangs on his finger. It hurt, but he didn't move. It let go and he put the spider down. Apparently it didn't inject any venom into his finger--it just tasted it. Someone asked him if he was less afraid of them now. He said no, he was now more afraid of them. We found an excellent dinner at a vegetarian restaurant run by Belgian hippies and camped out under a canvas of stars. Had a lazy morning and went to town for breakfast and checked e-mail. We went to the frog museum in the afternoon. We were guided through by Julio, a local guy who had studied for a year in high school in Ohio. He hopes to go to college to study marine biology in San Jose this fall. The most famous frogs are the Poison Dart frogs. They had 20 different species from around Costa Rica. All secrete poison in their skin. Two species in South America are so poisonous that natives poison the tips of their blow darts by rubbing them on the frogs. They are very cute and tiny, only as big as your thumb nail, and very colorful. At sunset we drove up to a ridge overlooking the cloud forest. We watched as the sky turned pink and the breeze blew across the top of Costa Rica and through the canopy of the giant trees. We moved into the hotel for the night. Pancakes for breakfast and we were on our way back to the Pacific Coast. |
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