Costa Rica Journal from Feb. 2011
Sorry to be confusing but I never finished this journal from our two week trip to Costa Rica in Feb. 2011 so here it is! I will eventually add all the pictures and complete this journal! We are about to take off for Costa Rica tomorrow and so now is as good as ever to post this!
In the winter of 2010, Yehudah and I decided to travel to Costa Rica in a 2 week window in Feb., 2011 that we had in our schedules. He got us frequent-flyer tickets on United, traveling through Houston, Texas. We met with friends who had already traveled to Costa Rica, purchased clothing items and stuff for the trip, found 2 great backpacks down in the basement, read books and prepared ourselves for the trip.
We communicated with a couch-surfing family in Ciudad Colon, 45 minutes from San Jose, and made plans to stay with them for the first two days of our journey. They would exchange money for us and help us with our travel plans. We researched many places to stay, go, etc. but it felt rather overwhelming at such a distance to make plans. So, the day before our journey, we had our one definite plan.
Then, only a few hours before our departure, Eliana’s brother, Marty, called out of the blue. He and his wife had planned a kayaking trip in the Osa Peninsula several weeks hence and what were we doing, where were we going? Yehudah got the e-mail of their tour guide and promptly e-mailed him. Hi, we are going down to the Osa and could use a place to stay, a jumping off spot to go to the Sirena Ranger Station in the Corcovado National Wildlife Refuge. Ben, Benyamin as he is called in Costa Rica, happened to be on-line and returned Yo’s e-mail. Yes, stay with Yami and Pedro, a Tico family who runs a small B&B in Bahia Drake. They are wonderful. I will make arrangements for you if you promise that you will arrive on time. So, arrangements were made for us in the Osa.
Our airplane trip was uneventful, i.e. on time. Sharon’s daughter, Maia, met us at the airport and guided us onto two buses, one to San Jose and the other which got us to the house where we were staying. Crowded, hot, lots of shops. Maia hates Costa Rica, has a boyfriend she met on the internet who lives in New Mexico, and is passionate about airplanes and airplane crashes and wants to become an airplane crash investigator. OK.
The family has lived on this land for over 40 years which they have developed into a small farm overlooking a lovely valley. They rent out several houses they have built and frequently host couchsurfers. Sharon is a physician, fabulous cook, intense person, extremely talkative and opinionated. Dick is retired, is the only driver in the family, sweet, helpful.
She baked an amazing chocolate cake while we were there.
The next day we went into town to purchase bus tickets to Palmar Norte, our first stop on the way down to the Osa. Yehudah is remarkably good at following maps and orienting, so we walked from one bus station to another by going south and looking for landmarks in the Lonely Planet Guide. The ticket price in Guide was not up to date but, nonetheless, bus ticket prices in Costa Rica are cheap and the bus service is good. We had a very basic Tico lunch and then went off to the Children’s Museum and Art Museum, which were both modern and interesting. A film at the Children’s Museum informed us that 90% of a particular computer part is manufactured in Costa Rica, that Costa Rica has its share of astronauts and that, essentially, you can be anything you want to be as a child growing up in Costa Rica.
We walked over to a University area, to a bohemian part of town and wound up towards evening at a Caribbean eatery, Grandmother’s Place. The food was good and inexpensive.
Going home on the bus, we got off one stop too soon and when we got back on the bus driver chided us that we needed to pay again (which we didn’t do) because the electrical light across the steps counted the number of people getting on the bus and we, therefore, were counted twice.
Oh well!
When we returned, two of Sharon’s tenants were gabbing in the dining room, eating chocolate cake. They were an American couple traveling around. The wife didn’t like San Jose and so never went into town. They were mostly taking early morning walks looking at birds.
We rose bright and early, packed our bags, left the computer and a whole bag of extra stuff we would pick up the day before our return flight, and off we went. This time, since we had our backpacks, we took a cab from one bus to the next, making sure to ask the cabby to put the meter on. While waiting for the bus I got into a conversation in French with a dark, long-haired, man, Olivier, who spoke both Spanish and French. My French is better than my Spanish. He said he was on vacation and that he was a “professor d’information” in a small town in the south. We chattered about this and that. Later in our travels, after reading about the area we were about to travel through, Yehudah spoke with him and found out he was Boruka, an indigenous tribe, and got his phone number. Yehudah conversed with a Borukan woman on the bus about the dam they had successfully stopped from being built. We stopped for lunch at a place with hummingbird feeders, and so saw our first Costa Rican hummingbirds.
Palmar Norte is a very small town just north of Sierpe, the town on the Rio Sierpe.
Benyamin suggested a cheap motel, the Red Cross, to stay at, across from a very good restaurant. On getting off the bus and into the still, tropical air, we were immediately hit by the humidity and heat. We wandered around town, found the bus stop for the next day, got several different responses about when the bus left, went to find very large stone boulders that had been carved into perfect sphere during prehistoric times and were inside a school yard quite near where we were staying. A young cabby tried to get us to agree for him to drive us to Sierpe for $15. The bus ride was $1.50 each, so we opted to see what that would be like.
Our dinner was excellent and we hung out reading Lonely Planet, listening to families enjoying babies, young children, drinking fruit drinks with milk. Yummy - banana, mango, guava, etc. We got up at 6 a.m., put on our packs, and made the 6:30 a.m. small schoolbus. If we had gone to catch the 7 a.m. bus we would have waited until 8 a.m. or so.
Sierpe is basically the restaurant where the boats dock to go to the Osa. Boats leave at 11 a.m. The captain of the boat stopped to say hi as he knew we were coming, along with a slew of European travelers, mostly young. We hung out, had a great breakfast, looked at the indigenous masks for sale, the very expensive suntan lotion ($28!), and chatted with people. One Canadian’s family had bought a home in Sierpe. His in-laws, who didn’t speak Spanish, had retired and moved down here. He was coming on his vacations. Another family lived in Bahia Drake, where we were headed, and would be back in a few days, as they were going up to San Jose to meet the daughter’s boyfriend and gave us directions to find their house in case we wanted to stop by for a visit.
The ride down the river was like being in a jet boat - fast, banking on its side to make the turns along the river way, splashing all of us periodically, especially the people sitting in front. Too fast to see any wildlife and we were too busy hanging on to notice the thick mangrove trees along the shore. When we came out into the ocean the capitan circled around several times until the waves were lower and then he banked over the waves and into the ocean. Exciting! We rode to the farthest destination point, backed into the beach as far as possible, then those landing there got out into the shallow water, backpacks or luggage in hand and we were off to deposit the next group to their destination. We got out at the final destination, Bahia Drake, where the captain also lived. Pedro met us with his ATV to take our backpacks up to the B&B. We took the steep trail with several Ticos who were also walking that way. One of them was a nurse planning on becoming a doctor.
Yami had lunch waiting for us and, as well, her story. Their son, now about 9 years old, had a serious muscular disorder and required constant care. Early on they had many emergencies, necessitating many trips to the hospital. They decided to open up a B&B since they needed to stay put for his benefit and work at home. So, at first, the B&B was open only during the summer months, but, gradually, they built an addition for them to live in and now the B&B was open all year round and was going well enough for them to employ a Caribbean cook and young family members to help out in the kitchen and in housekeeping.
B&B Casa Horizontes (casahorizontescorcovado.com) consists of 4 bedrooms, one of which is up a very steep staircase. Three share one bathroom and shower. Meals are served family-style outside on the covered deck, overlooking the ocean. While we were there a couple from Sweden, two girls from Germany, 2 girls from England and a Czech couple also stayed, plus one American family just on their way out, who had essentially stayed put for 5 days and went on walks, eating dinner occasionally at the local pizza place.
We learned quickly that Elia, Yami’s sister, was organizing an overnight expedition leaving the next morning to Sirena, the best Ranger Station in the Corcovado. We enthusiastically joined the group, along with the Swiss couple, the 2 German girls and a fellow from Brazil, who everyone thought, at first, was “the Italian”. The overnight trip would allow us to have many more hours to explore this area that most travelers miss with the usual half day trip. Yehudah found out about a beach from which to see the sunset and we hightailed off to do this walk before dinner. The “sunset” was really not seeable from that area, but rather the sun set behind some hills before we got there. But an opening in the clouds allowed the sun to reflect down on a large yacht anchored in the Bay. It got quite dark on the walk back and we were glad to have our headlamps with us. We wound up a bit lost, were given a lift in a boat across a small bay, and managed to appear by dinner time, quite sweaty from our walk. After a quick shower we shared in the first of several delicious meals.
The boat ride the next morning was about an hour, uneventful except that the ocean was still a bit rough and the boat kept slapping down as it cleared each wave. We were left off on the beach, shared a simple breakfast, left stuff there for a ranger to transport to the ranger station, and began a series of amazing walks in this tropical paradise. Elia was a gem, spotting scope in hand; she knew where various birds and animals hung out, would quickly set the scope up for us to see better and would take pictures with the digital cameras right up to the scope. My fears of incessant mosquitoes and flies was unfounded. This was the tropics, so we got hot and sweaty pretty fast, but our sweat helped cool us off. We walked primarily under the jungle canopy, continuously drinking from our water bottles, and dipped hands and kerchiefs into the many small streams along our path.
Elia’s eagle eyes spotted activity invisible to us and could focus the scope on animals and birds at a moment’s notice. Tapirs on the beach, a small herd of peccaries and another one of Coatimundi, a toucan, a mot mot with its long tail, a spoonbill, a sloth and its baby, crocodiles, howler and spider monkeys, innumerable butterflies, a turkey-like Great Curasow resting on a branch, and the prize was a river otter eating a fish by the river. We had clear skies and the treat of swimming in the river.
Our quarters at the Ranger Station was a large, mosquito-proof but open, enclosed room in which we set up mosquito-nets, open tents with mats underneath and each received a sheet to place over ourselves. Yehudah and I shared a tent, which, after hearing a mosquito buzzing around, he zipped up. During the night I heard a mouse sniffing around the entire perimeter of the tent and was grateful that it was zipped up. At 4 AM the next morning, we took a walk in the dark, spotting red eyes of various creatures, including the crocodiles. Rather eery! At dawn we walked along the beach front, savoring the coolness of the air and enjoying being outside so long before breakfast.
After breakfast we took another walk during which we saw the toucan and otter as our final sitings.. We all walked to meet the boat, this time operated by one of Yami and Elia’s brothers. He took us close up to the shoreline, showing us waterfalls and large rocks covered with frigate birds. As he watched the frigate birds all darting out to sea, he sharply turned the boat around and followed them. Where were we going? To our surprise and delight (except for the German girls who wanted to get back Bahia Drake to catch the last boat out to the mainland)
we followed the frigate birds to where a pod of dolphins were eating. The frigates and dolphins fish together; the frigates eat what the dolphins leave over. Such fun to see the dolphins jumping out of the water, to see their tails dip under. What a fabulous two day journey!
We returned to a delicious snack set out for us, followed by a Caribbean dinner of coconut-basted fish with veggies, rice and beans and rum-soaked white cake for dessert with cinnamon tea. It felt to me like we were having the trip of a lifetime.
Early the next morning, Yehudah watched several pairs of scarlet macaws fly over squawking all the way. Since one of our goals was to go snorkeling in coral reef areas, we decided the next day to hike 2 1/2 hrs.. up the shoreline to a small coral reef bay where we were told that snorkeling was good. Our Brazilian friend, Renato, came with us. En route we saw capuchin monkeys and more resplendent, colorful tropical birds. We got to the river crossing too late to wade through and so needed to take a boat the very short distance. We haggled with the boat people, who had decided to raise their prices and wanted a contribution for their turtle project. In retrospect, two of us could have swum across the river and one taken all the stuff. They got the $7 they asked for the 2 minute ride, but whatever. Then their boss lying in a hammock on the other side tried to get a few more dollars out of us!
Our beach was a pristine, lovely area with several islands close in and so quite sheltered.
All three of us were a bit apprehensive about swimming and where to go, but once we tried it was actually quite easy to swim and we saw our first grayish, roundish, oval fish and some coral. The water was sometimes murky, sometimes clear. Renato and I swam towards a rocky area where some Russians suggested the visibility was better. We saw a tiny, brilliant blue fish, more coral and came back to the shore.
Right when we started we left our packs on the beach behind a young woman who worked at the nearby hotel. She was intently reading, while a spider monkey crept up to our stuff, unzipped Renato’s bag and took his two bananas out. We ran back up from the ocean to see him eating his bounty! We decided to go farther down the beach and to eat our lunch before venturing back into the water.
We had been told that perhaps we could find a boat ride back to Bahia Drake, so we were intent on doing so. One group of Russians had a boat, but it was quite full. Another couple hiked down to the beach and immediately a boat appeared that picked them up and left. Other than that no other boats appeared. So we made our way back north. The river was low and so we waded through it without any boats in sight. We managed to get back without getting lost this time and in time for dinner. It had proved to be a long hike.
The following morning we took off for the mainland by boat with Renato and about 16 other people. Fortunately, the ocean was flat and there too many passengers for our captain to play jet boat! The Swedish couple decided to fly, costing $137.50 each. Our boat ride was $15 each. The three of us grabbed a van that was headed further up the coast and got a quick trip to Palmar Norte. The bus we hoped to catch was just pulling out when we got there and did not stop. So we got our bus tickets and hung out in the restaurant, drinking fruit drinks.
Yami had suggested that we stay at a place in the Talamancas, the Cloud Forest south of San Jose, recommended by Benyamin. Benyamin was proving to be our travel guide again though we still had not met him. He had told her that she would enjoy the place and making connections with the Tico family who ran a private eco-tourist birding sanctuary, Paraiso del Quetzal. We couldn’t get through, so Benyamin made reservations again for us. Benyamin also decided to meet us at his bus stop to give us a letter to mail to his sister once we were back in the states. He said that Tico mail took forever to get to the States. So we were headed 1/2 way to San Jose on the same route we had traveled south. But now stopping halfway.
I decided while we were waiting that we might as well try calling Olivier again. I had tried the night before when we were deciding on our next place to go, but he wasn’t home. Manana, I was told. He would be back tomorrow. This time, Olivier was home. Yes, we could come visit. Yes, we could stay overnight. Our bus was about to come. Getting to Boruca by bus required traveling north, then taking another bus diagonally south again. We would arrive by 5 p.m. Dark was 6 p.m. Didn’t make sense. If we were going for one day the best way was to take a taxi up the dirt road. How much? The driver said $40. How about $30? $35. Okay, we settled, and please keep your meter on. But we had just bought bus tickets, Yehudah complained. Well, try to change them. No, they wouldn’t give us back our money. Well, how else? Finally, Renato figured out that they would stamp our ticket so it could be used for 30 days. They couldn’t refund the ticket but they could do this. So we were clear to use the bus the next day after this detour. The taxi trip was an hour up a steep, dirt road. The driver stopped at the top to take pictures and Yehudah did the same. We arrived several hours earlier than expected. The meter registered $35 exactly.
Olivier’s parents greeted us. Olivier was a bit nervous. Where are you going to stay? There are no hotels here. Well, we have to stay somewhere. How about right here? He confers with his parents, who he conferred with before he invited us in the first place. Okay, please wait. We will fix up a room. And what would you like to eat? Simple food, whatever your mother cooks. OK. His mother cooked us lunch. And we settled into a bedroom given up by several of the granddaughters. That night we used our double-silk sheet that tucked into a tight bag.
While we ate lunch by ourselves we looked at the pictures on the wall. His father, Don Ramon, had received an award in 2002 from the Costa Rican government for his sculptured masks made out of balsa wood. Indeed, this small, unassuming man was a national treasure. We looked at the amazing masks in the dining area, pictures of Don Ramon and his wife, and pictures of a dead relative, while we ate a delicious, home cooked Tico meal. But we wondered about the water that had been used to dilute the fruit drink. Would we later regret this hospitality!?!
After lunch, Olivier took us on a walk. He showed us the oldest tree in the village, A Guancaste that had been a sapling when Columbus first intruded on the paradise of Central America. He took us by the high school where he taught French and computers, the regular elementary school, a coffee orchard, a hanging bridge. We stopped and ate some ice cream at the general store, buying ice cream for the two little girls who accompanied us and whose room we were probably staying in.
Then he showed us a video of the Boruca festival, which happens each December.
A Boruca dresses up as a bull, signifying the Spaniards. Others in Devil masks, personify Little Devils, the indigenous people. In the first foray the Spaniard kills the little devils. They die but they come back to life. In their second incarnation they kill the Bull, cut him up into many pieces and distribute him among all the people.
After a bit Yehudah asked Olivier if we might buy some art from his dad, who sits carving a mask, sitting in his hammock. We actually tried to carry on a conversation with his dad, took pictures of his parents and such before and after we went on the walk. His dad didn’t have any art to sell. So we asked to go for another walk, this time to find an artisan who might have art to sell. Olivier finally led us to a woman’s house just before sunset who sold masks, jewelry and bags. We selected our arts and crafts purchase by flashlight. She was very kind and reduced the price by $20 since we were buying several pieces.
After a dinner of yucca and protein we settled into watching TV with Olivier and talking about this and that. The bus in the morning would leave at 7:30 a.m. right down the road from where they lived. We got up bright and early and set down the road, waited under an awning with several Borucan men. As I boarded the bus I looked up the road and saw Olivier and his father waving good-by to us. Very sweet to see them.
The bus ride took about an hour, chock full of Borucans young and old, down a steep dirt road. At one point an elder grandma using a walker got on, hoisted up by several men. The young boy across the aisle from me had been saving a seat for his grandmother. I asked him to stash my backpack underneath his grandma’s stuff, out of the way, as I was sitting in the seat that everyone passed to get on and off the bus, and I was having to pick up my pack every time this occurred.
Off again with our backpacks to a restaurant at which the bus stops for food. It would arrive at 9 a.m. Okay. Yehudah runs to catch an earlier bus on the road, but the bus driver looks at the ticket and says it is for a later bus, not his bus. Yehudah is concerned. But the 9 a.m. bus appears and everyone gets off to use the restroom and eat. Yehudah approaches this bus driver, shows him the ticket. The bus driver does not seem cooperative. I approach him as well, respectfully, explain the situation in my broken Spanish. He has a change of heart and agrees, puts our backpacks in the luggage area. We are good to go.
The Talamancas. We are to meet Jorge Serrano at the restaurant bus stop at Oja de Agua - the Eye of the Water. The public phone doesn’t work so a young woman who works in the store dials up Jorge and Jorge, Jr. Yes, these are her friends. Yes, the younger brother will come pick us up. We wait on the road. Turns out only some buses stop at their bus stop. 7 miles down the road, but, indeed, their road is right off the main road. Paraiso Quetzal - Quetzal Paradise. (www.paraisodelquetzal.com).
We enter a lodge with shellacked wooded tables, folks eating, people outside taking photos of hummingbirds. They have several feeders and plants loved by the hummers and a walkway down to a lookout shelter. Hummingbird heaven. We have arrived!
We are shown a lovely cabin with a double bed and a bunk bed, but I look at the cabin at the very end of the row and want to see the view from that one. It had been just vacated. It sits further out on the bluff and has a clear, large view of the mountains and the valley below. We decide to take that one and are told it will be ready in an hour. The cabins have multiple woolen blankets on the beds, a deck outside and a hot shower and toilet. Luxurious! So we eat our lunch, look at the hummingbirds, and walk over to settle into our cabin.
The place is a series of cabins on a steep slope, with a steep, white walkway attaching them all, with colorful flowers and a fountain. There’s a map of hiking trails, so we take our first walk. Feels like Oregon! Little brooks, tall trees, small waterfalls. We are home!
That evening we meet Goeff, a birder from Great Britain, who has totally planned his month-long trip focused on finding rare birds. The following morning the three of us will meet Jorge Jr. (who Geoff calls “George”) for a 7 a.m. hike to find quetzals.
It is quite chilly that evening. The family gives each of us a hot water bottle to help keep us warm under many layers of blankets in our unheated cabin, our cabin of wide open vistas, of magnificent sunsets, of privacy and a hot shower!
We spot a female quetzal, resplendent with her red chest and deep green feathers, digesting an avocado, sitting on a branch. Jorge Jr. positions the spotting scope in her direction.
We spend three hours spotting many kinds of birds, Jorge using his electronic bird caller to tease the birds into sight.
After breakfast we decide to do some laundry, take showers, then go off on a long afternoon hike. We have learned that hummiingbirds are quite territorial and that their call resembles the words “my place - my place - my place” over and over.....”mi casa - mi casa - mi casa.” They are easy to spot, high up in their particular tree. We spot several other birds. At one point a plump brown bird lands right beside my foot plus a hummingbird is perched on a branch on the opposite side of the trail. The brown guy flies straight into a log across the way while Yehudah takes pictures of the seated hummingbird.
We finished off the afternoon by hiking to a waterfall. The sky was darkening. At sunset we found ourselves at two swings overlooking the valley. The night before the sky was so dramatic - dragons and dark-edged creatures confronting each other. Tonight the sky is tinged with reds - brilliant, yet less ominous.
After dinner we took a night walk with a group to find owls. Again, Jorge Jr. called an owl in with his owl-calls.
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