Costa Rica - It's Called a Rain Forest For a Reason Dummy

Due to a large breast cancer walk Sunday morning we were to miss our San Jose city tour and headed directly to the day's main activity, a gondola ride through a primary rainforest. Modest homes, some gothic in nature reminiscent of New Orleans trademark shotgun houses lined the back streets we took out of the city. As we moved further out the landscape became more industrial.  Auto workshops and dealerships became prevalent, razor wire ubiquitous. Further still we passed a hillside tangle of shacks pieced together by the poorest and most desperate of the nation's citizens from salvaged scraps of corrugated sheet metal. The scene outside the bus window changed to farms utilizing the rich soil and the heavy precipitation, mixed with almost impossibly lush natural vegetation. Huge fern fronds protruded from walls of green punctuated by bright splashes of tropical flowers. The rich green flowed down mountainsides into deep valleys. The tallest of the trees soared above the mountains crests. Going through the only tunnel in Costa Rica we enter Braulio Carrillo National Park. We cross a bridge over the "Muddy River". Named for it's dark brown color it is actually a rich stew of minerals gathered from the nearby volcanoes.

We entered the private reserve where the gondolas that would take us through the rain forest are located. As we near the loading platforms it begins to rain, and rain, and rain, after all it's called a rain forest for a reason. Despite the sodden conditions the ride is extraordinary. The forest contains layer upon layer of growth. Vines climb up the towering trees. Aerial plants send roots to the green forest floor beneath. Orchids and bromeliads fill the branches. We, and everything we had with us got soaked despite our rain pouches purchased specifically for this trip. Our camera is ruined. Thankfully my husband had the foresight to buy insurance when he purchased it. Our phones would suffice for the remainder of the trip.

Back on the ground we slogged along a trail in the unrelenting rain. We saw tiny pit vipers curled in the underbrush. Diminutive bats napped under broad leaves they chew in a particular way to form a protective tent as shelter against the soggy elements. A poison frog the size of a dime displayed it bright red body with what seemed like a self assured sense of pride. A pair of parrots flew overhead announcing their presence with their loud call. Our guide is remarkably knowledgeable, almost childlike in his joy of the interlocking intricacies of nature. You could tell he was one who loved his work.

A group of very wet people boarded the bus for the ride to our next hotel. Enroute our guide announces that we are ahead of schedule and will have 30 minutes in the town of Fortuna located near the foot of Arenal, Costa Rica's iconic volcano. My husband and I realize, as we roamed through the shops that surrounded the main square, that our rooms at the hotel are probably not ready so the guide had to come up with a way to kill time. It is a most pleasant act of murder. We purchased Christmas ornaments that will serve as seasonal mementos each year of our adventure.



  

Costa Rica - Fractured Translations

On several occasions I found unintentional humor in the Spanish to English translations on the signs in Costa Rica. Two of my favorites were by the pool at our first hotel.

Number one instructed us to not "introduce" glass items to the pool area. Glass item, meet pool area, pool area, meet glass item. Be kind, she just got out of a bad relationship and is very fragile.

Number two, "no swimming in clothes allowed". Nowhere in the pretour guidebook did it mention that this was a nudist resort. Believe me, I would have noticed if it had. Maybe we wouldn't have brought so much stuff with us.

Costa Rica - A Cloud Forest, A Lagoon & Then Coffee

In the same area as the volcano there is a trail which leads back to a secluded lagoon. The trail wove through a dense tropical cloud forest. Along the way the sun's rays cut through the thick foliage resembling gauze curtains. The trail was quite steep and coupled with the high elevation our breathing became heavy. My husband described it as "football breath". Orchids and bromeliads clung to the trees.

The path was somewhat crowded that day. Not only several people from our tour but a loud group of young adults speaking a mixture of English and Spanish shared the trail with us. Our efforts were rewarded by the sight of the beautiful lagoon surrounded buy the thick forest laid out below us. Birds could be heard but not seen. An occasional butterfly flitted by as we hiked along.

Returning to the bus we continued on to that day's lunch. The restaurant clung to a ridge, it's open air dining room sporting an expansive view of what seemed to be half the country. It was accessed by a drive requiring a tight turn off the main road. Our bus drivers expertise was evidenced by his managing to make the turn without striking the handsome, hunky, tattooed, barechested boy standing along the edge of the drive texting. Roosters crowed and more butterflies fluttered from bush to bush in the garden below us.

Our last stop of the day was a miniature coffee plantation. We were first given an adequate amount of time to sample several coffees before deciding which of the tasty brews to purchase. This was followed by a wildly humorous description of the process of coffee production from seedling to cup. Two men, one of whom redefined the term silly, provided us with more information than I ever thought existed about my morning beverage of choice.

Enroute to the plantation we met with a fierce storm. Lightening flashed in the afternoon sky followed by the boom of thunder. The deluge made all of us grateful that we were in the dry confines of the bus. Water spewed from drainspouts and poured down the gutters of the streets. It was the first of many storms we were to encounter on this trip. Costa Rica receives over 100, in some areas 200, inches of rain a year. Excellent for coffee growing, inconvenient for tourists. A large tree was blown over by the storm necessitating a snaking crawl through small side streets by our rather large bus.   

The first of several early morning luggage pickup and departure times meant my repacking us prior to dinner. I was a model of efficiency making a detailed list of what I had packed where. The only challenge was remembering where I had packed the list. We dined as soon as the restaurant opened then retired to our room falling asleep to the sounds of college football, dreaming of our 5:30 wake up call the next morning.

Costa Rica - Our First Volcano

We set out in our tour bus for Poas volcano. Along the way, traveling through lush tropical foliage, our guide treated us to a multitude of facts and figures about Costa Rica. A country of 5 million people, 65% of them live in a single valley in and around the nation's capitol. They are a very eco- conscious nation. Everything possible is recycled, even cattle waste, which is converted into an energy source. The volcano formed mountain ranges are protected zones to help keep the air and water of the entire country as pure as possible. Residents that leave portions of their property in it's natural state are compensated by the government for doing so.

A special, unexpected moment was provided by a man driving his oxcart along the road we were using. The hand painted, one of a kind, painted wood yoke around the beasts necks was a beautiful example of the nations folk art.

At an elevation of close to 9000 feet there is only a 30% chance of the volcano's crater being visible due to constant fog and could cover. An eruption 2 weeks before had closed the volcano to visitors all together. It had reopened only 2 days prior to our arrival.

The day was clear, the sky a beautiful blue. Our guide instructed us that if the current conditions held when we arrived at the site we should get to the crater's edge as quickly as possible to take advantage of the rare chance to see into the volcano. We raced the short distance from the parking lot to the crater. The crater was presented to us in stunning clarity. The jagged rock walls surrounding the pool of gray magma were a kaleidoscope of colors created by the chemicals emitted by the volcano. It reminded me of the sights I had experienced in Yellowstone. A column of steam arose from the seemingly impossibly hot pool. A gentleman next to me told me that the clouds had cleared just 10 minutes before we had arrived. Along one wall of the pool a section of rock looked as if it had been stained a bright red. He explained to me that that was not the color of the rock, rather it was superheated by the hot liquid it helped contained and glowed red hot.The sight lasted no more than 20 minutes before clouds moved in once again obscuring this marvel of nature.

We left the crater felling incredibly fortunate to have experienced the seldom seen sight. Somedays I am a Lucky Traveler indeed! 

Costa Rica - A Few Words on Voyuerism and Getting Busted

Due to the early hour of our flight a short, slight snooze became a necessity by late afternoon that first day. My husband bursts into the room mid nap to announce that there is a formal affair taking place at the hotel that evening. He had just had to, through gestures, inform a young girl wearing, as he put it, "A green sequined mermaid dress" that her tag was hanging out. We shortly discovered that we had a perfect bird's eye view of the guests arriving for what we later learned, through piecing together information from several different sources, was a college graduation celebration ball. It became a large part of our evenings entertainment. We pointed an giggled, making snarky comments about the formally attired celebrants.

What we failed to take into account was that the lights in our hotel room left us plainly visible to the people below. This fact was brought home to us when three cute latino boys, dressed in suits and ties, looked up at us, smiled and gave us a thumbs up.

Costa Rica - Our First Look

The wide arcing descent of the plane treats us to an expansive view of the countryside below. Mud brown rivers rafted through a lush landscape of forest green. In the distance the faint outline of the shore of the ocean can be seen. There were small patches of farms, their fields forming orderly lines which contrast with the disorder of the natural vegetation.

Small towns gave way to more developed areas as we get closer to the capitol of San Jose. The plane nears the ground and neighborhoods of tin roof houses appear which seemed to surround the airport. There were green mountains nearby, others farther off.

An uneventful trip through immigration was followed by an equally uneventful trip through customs. Then we entered the pandemonium outside the airport. A mob of taxi drivers shouted and jostled for fares. Whistles blow, scores of people carry signs bearing the names of arriving passengers. It reminded me of the train boarding sequence in "Murder on the Orient Express". We somehow managed through the mayhem to locate the Caravan representative who directed us to  holding area to await the arrival of the rest of our group. We than sat, cooling our heels in the heat as singly and in groups our fellows of the next several days assembled. A roar arose from the taxi drivers as two, apparently spurious types, were led away by the police. The sky grew increasingly overcast, as it did every afternoon thereafter, cooling things down considerably.

The bus which was to take us to the hotel pulled up and we were driven through an area which might be most kindly referred to as industrial, to the hotel where we would be spending our first two nights. The portion of the city we could see from the windows of the hotel seemed dominated by nondescript poured concrete highrises. The one structure of note is a solid yet somehow playful and whimsical stadium. It's design seemed to be influenced by the work of Frank Ghery, architect of Los Angeles Symphony Hall and Chicago's Millennium Park bandshell. We later learn that it was a gift to the city from China. With this in mind my Christmas wish this year is to get on China's gift list.

Costa Rica or Bust - 3 a.m. Chicago Time

I was headed away from my home in a cab at 3 a.m.  Being in a cab at that hour wasn't new to me. I had been in a taxi at 3 a.m. scores of times over the course of my life. However, these trips were generally heading to my home, or someone elses, not headed away from it. It just didn't seem right somehow.

Costa Rica, my husband had been pestering me about it for some years. I would play on the Internet, poking, around, looking at this and that, yet never really focus. I would read Smithsonian magazine and peruse the caravan.com ads in the back, yet never really focus. Then our tax returns came in, our financial situation, by our standards, was fairly stable and one day we decided "Let's just do this damn thing before the price goes up". So tours were booked, flight plans made and we were headed to the airport to catch a 5:15 flight to Fort Lauderdale then on to a connecting flight which would take us on to San Jose, Costa Rica.