Showing posts with label costa rica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label costa rica. Show all posts
Friday, December 11, 2009
back in c.a.
It is true, fair readers, that I have returned to Central America. This has been a bit of a surprise to some old friends. Most of my amigos ticos have no idea where Thailand or Cabodia are, so I've been telling them that I was in China. Now they've all started the rumor that I have spent the last six months eating tiger penises. Seriously.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
quick and dirty guide: the central 7 and mexico
(B this entry is for you)
I'm thinking someone should pay me to be a travel adviser, or something to that end, but maybe I will get paid back in street phad thai and good karma for all this writing I am doing.
B asked about belize/honduras versus costa rica/nicaragua which I would say are two very worthy choices to choose between and led me to think about what all the countries are like in central. I'm planning on getting to writing mini-guides on those countries that I have not yet covered but I figure I'll start with a what we might call a country briefing. I'm starting North and moving South, try to keep up. Oh and these are my opinions, nothing more.
MÉXICO
Mexico has just about everything. Rich in culture, diverse in landscape, I can't really cover it all here. But my general feeling of méxico is, 'GUAU!' It is big, it has states, and the food in INCREDIBLE.
You could spend months or years exploring it: surfing, diving, mayan ruins, climbing volcanoes, visiting pueblitos, getting yourself lost in churches, meeting the indigenous people, swimming in lakes, exploring canyons. Chiapas is fantastic, the Yucatan (and associated states) is divine, and D.F. will blow your mind.
GUATEMALA
My soul lives in Guate. Highlands, black beans, incredible textiles, gorgeous colonial cities, TIKAL, and the warmest latinos on the block, what more can you ask for? Did I mention the coffee and chocolate?
BELIZE
For a cultural shmorgasborg, postcard beaches, and lush jungle Belize takes the cake. It is small, accessible, easy to get around, and full of friendly faces. Belize combines lots of outdoor activities with a carribean attitude, plus just about everyone speaks English. It isn't as cheap as other countries, but you can do it on a budget. Most people go for the diving, end up exploring a cave or two, and maybe some nice ruins. Don't miss the Marie Sharps.
HONDURAS
Considering the current political strife, Honduras might not be your first choice. Honduras is in a word: strange. The catrachos are different from the other Latins and the Bay Islands are a world unto themselves. Copán has lovely ruins (but is more Guatemala than Honduras), las Islas Bahia have some great diving (and it is CHEAP), I've heard other places are great, but I haven't seen much. Most people stick to the islands and head on to the next place. If you want to get off the beaten track and see something new it could be a glorious adventure, but I am not making any promises. Combined with Belize it could be a cool diving vacation (there are direct flights between Belize city and San Pedro Sula).
EL SAV
Can't comment too much. Heard the coast is a great place for surfing. Pupusas seem motivation enough to check it out, but then again most people don't travel just so they can try the local food.
NICARAGUA
Could the Nicas be any nicer? Seriously. My best best best friends all live in Nicaragua. Traffic is usually caused by cows. Nicaragua is considered the next big thing though the economic crisis may have slowed that for a bit. If you want to experience almost everything Central has to offer (islands, volcanoes, diving, surfing, jungles, colonial cities) you could stay in Nicaragua and see almost everything. Boasting two of the longest coast lines in the region, two colonial gems, and decent infrastructure, it combines the variety of Costa Rica with the wildness of the other countries.
COSTA RICA
Costa Rica has grown on me. The people are unique and possess a subtle culture that will crawl into you heart and find a home, just give it time. If you like wildlife, getting outdoors and varied landscapes you will be blown away by Costa Rica. Not as safe as some people will have you think, it is still welcoming and lovely. The tourist infrastructure makes doing things a breeze, but there are still relatively undeveloped pockets, they just require 4 wheel drive and a bit more patience. Make friends with the Ticos, they know the best places and love to have a good time. Throw Nicaragua in the mix and you have an interesting balance of two very different cultures, the opportunity to do more outdoor sports than you can imagine and a hundred possibilities for adventure.
PANAMA
My Panama experience is limited to Bocas Del Toro, and I dug that. Panama City is rumored to be quite and adventure, David and the highlands come highly recommended. Plus there is always the added temptation of trying to reach Colombia overland from here. Send me a postcard if you make it!
So there you go, brief, succinct, and obviously biased. Hope that gives you some insight.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
trembloto
Guau, so I have gathered that many of you caught wind of the earthquake we recently had down here in Costa Rica. I was in fact in it, not far from the epicenter, but managed to escape unscathed. Coming from California makes earthquakes feel a bit common place, but this one was very strange feeling. Most people reported feeling like they had vertigo, which was exactly what I experienced. I was walking out of the rio toro after finishing a rafting trip with my group. I just thought I had lost balance, but as I set foot on the land itself I realized it too was moving. The quake registered a 6.4 but I think that they way it shook rather than its magnitude was what caused most of the damage.
Now for the kind of scary part...
20 minutes after we left the rio toro a head of water (what we would call a flash flood) surged down the river. The quake also caused a number of landslides with in the rio itself. On a nearby river, the Sarapiqui the whole river was filled with mud and trees, luckily no one was injured.
Additionally La Paz waterfall, or what was La Paz waterfall as well as the adjacent road were both totally wiped out by landslides. That was the very road we had used to leave San Jose the morning of the quake. In fact many of my pax probably took some of the last photos of the waterfall.
I've got a great couple on my trip, Tom and Mariam, I feel like they summed the whole thing up in a nice fashion in saying, "I guess it's just not our time." That's the thing about living next to, or on top of volcanoes, you can't do to much worrying about earthquakes or eruptions, you just have to live your life, and when it is finally your time you can look back on a life you are proud to have lived.
Now for the kind of scary part...
20 minutes after we left the rio toro a head of water (what we would call a flash flood) surged down the river. The quake also caused a number of landslides with in the rio itself. On a nearby river, the Sarapiqui the whole river was filled with mud and trees, luckily no one was injured.
Additionally La Paz waterfall, or what was La Paz waterfall as well as the adjacent road were both totally wiped out by landslides. That was the very road we had used to leave San Jose the morning of the quake. In fact many of my pax probably took some of the last photos of the waterfall.
I've got a great couple on my trip, Tom and Mariam, I feel like they summed the whole thing up in a nice fashion in saying, "I guess it's just not our time." That's the thing about living next to, or on top of volcanoes, you can't do to much worrying about earthquakes or eruptions, you just have to live your life, and when it is finally your time you can look back on a life you are proud to have lived.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
mangrove update
So, I went on another man-yak adventure in the manglar and discovered the source of all the rice krispie snapping and popping. Turns out it is some clam like animal breathing through the mud. Finding things out is an imagination killer, here I was thinking that it was the mangroves rocking in the breeze, or maybe small mangrove spirits communicating with one another. I guess a little shell breathing in the mud is pretty cool.
Friday, December 26, 2008
the haps in costa rica
(Images, from top to bottom, Newly macheted trail and a 'walking palm,' the view from the 'hotel' back down on the disco and dining hall, the famous Rara Avis spine destroying tractor)
I'm in my new christmas sarong sitting in my hotel room in cuidad josefina reflecting on where the last year has taken me. Christmas passed with fewer fireworks but more beach as well as an entertaining round of Secret Santa with my group. It is a bit strange to be divorced from the strange consumer culture of Gringo Christmas and realize what the rest of the world does for the holiday. Strange, but incredibly liberating, I completed all of my christmas shopping in a 15 minute stint on line (books for brothie and pops, an orion magazine subscription for momma and lucky eva). Here christmas seems more to center around family, fireworks, drinking, tamales, church if you are so inclined and/or salsa dancing in the street. I have come to conclude that the Latin way is preferable though there is the possibility of injury by renegade fireworks.
I spent most of the afternoon with Isaac (a fellow tour leader) on the beach discussing why latin/gringo relationships do and do not work, as well as why we need a new name for gringos other than calling ourselves "Americans," which the Ticos find incredibly offensive. The Ticos have a point, America in fact includes both the north and south continents as well as greenland (I think). So the word, American, is kind of a general geographic area, not specific to our country. I am pushing for Statesians, that or Unidians, either really works, or Gringo.
Additionally Isaac explained how he feels like the heavy Gringo influence in Costa Rica has been eroding the core of Latin culture, namely the family. It is true, globalization, mobility, etc, etc... the world's leaning towards mcdonalized homogeneity has an affect here. Isaac reckons that family is more of a responsibility in the States rather than a priority. I feel like that is a pretty generalizing statement, but it has roots somewhere.
Generally in my travels I do see the erosion of a lot of traditions, the revival of others, I see good things happen as the result of tourism, and bad things too. With most of life, I am realizing that it is best to live well, with integrity, to try to do the right thing when presented with choices, and accept what we can't change. It can be hard watching tourists feed monkeys food that is going to make them sick, but I also can't talk to every tourist. I also don't want to be some over aggressive angry chick muttering about how bananas make monkeys sick, how your camera's flash disorient animals, and that yelling in english or botched italian at spanish speakers doesn't make communication easier. I have learned to try inform the people that I can and to pick my battles, and some things I am just learning to accept quietly. Good news is I can brainwash my passengers into believing anything I want, namely convincing them not to buy non-sustainably harvested hardwoods, that feeding animals is bad, that the tap water in monteverde is the best in Costa Rica and it is a crime not to drink it, oh and introduce them to the wonders of guanabana the world's best juice.
Other things worth mentioning....
I finally saw a huge fat male resplendent quetzal and was so excited I forgot all about taking a photo. He sat for 15 minutes, threw up two avocado seeds (a much smaller variety than hass), took a poop, and then flew away. How can you not love a bird that feeds almost exclusively on aguacate?
Rara Avis is my new favorite place in Costa Rica. It is a jungle lodge, 12k out in virgin rainforest only reachable by foot or on the back of a tractor, complete with rastafarian tourguide Wilburth and amazing fried chicken. Riiiigght???
Finally, an important lesson, just because you think you learned how to dance Cumbia once while you were drunk does not mean you will remember how to do it when you get drunk again and try.
Feliz ano nuevo.
damn I need to find the enay on this machine.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
raices
I have a new obsession: mangroves. Man are they a cool ecosystem. I had the chance to go kayaking last week in the mangroves near Manuel Antonio. It was a 3 hour trip, some how I ended up being the only one in a single, but I managed to just keep up.
Mangroves grow in the places where fresh and saltwater meet, they grow in the mud that is deposited by freshwater on its way out to the ocean. The way that they survive living in the oxygen poor mud and water is by growing these crazy root systems that are exposed at low tide. Different species use different systems to accomplish respiration, some have little snorkel like tubes that stick out of the mud, some grow father up the shore line, some have tall root systems that stick out of the water. Ooooo they are cool.
But the best, most amazing part are the super tall white mangroves. They can be 10-20 meters tall, have long trunks and amazing roots that support their heavy trunks. They only grow back from the main canals as they need firmer mud to support them. Along the canals grow the shorter more bushy red mangroves and the pine mangroves.
The nice part about being in the kayaks is that is was super quiet, we could hear everything, and mangrove forests make a lot of noise. Sort of like a bowl of rice krispies, cracking and popping, I am not sure what makes the noise but it is really amazing. The whole thing reminded me of the life of pi, when he gets stuck on that island for a while.
On the paddle back home we fed some capuchin monkeys palm fruits (one of their normal foods, unlike bananas). My passengers were totally stoked on it, I was pretty impressed but kept my distance, I still haven't gotten over the monkey attack in Nicaragua.
There is something so magical about being out on the water under your own command, sans motor, just cruising along. I think that the weirdness or other worldliness of the mangroves makes the whole thing more special.
okay I am going to take my dreamy self and get ready to start my next trip.
Mangroves grow in the places where fresh and saltwater meet, they grow in the mud that is deposited by freshwater on its way out to the ocean. The way that they survive living in the oxygen poor mud and water is by growing these crazy root systems that are exposed at low tide. Different species use different systems to accomplish respiration, some have little snorkel like tubes that stick out of the mud, some grow father up the shore line, some have tall root systems that stick out of the water. Ooooo they are cool.
But the best, most amazing part are the super tall white mangroves. They can be 10-20 meters tall, have long trunks and amazing roots that support their heavy trunks. They only grow back from the main canals as they need firmer mud to support them. Along the canals grow the shorter more bushy red mangroves and the pine mangroves.
The nice part about being in the kayaks is that is was super quiet, we could hear everything, and mangrove forests make a lot of noise. Sort of like a bowl of rice krispies, cracking and popping, I am not sure what makes the noise but it is really amazing. The whole thing reminded me of the life of pi, when he gets stuck on that island for a while.
On the paddle back home we fed some capuchin monkeys palm fruits (one of their normal foods, unlike bananas). My passengers were totally stoked on it, I was pretty impressed but kept my distance, I still haven't gotten over the monkey attack in Nicaragua.
There is something so magical about being out on the water under your own command, sans motor, just cruising along. I think that the weirdness or other worldliness of the mangroves makes the whole thing more special.
okay I am going to take my dreamy self and get ready to start my next trip.
la gemma perdida
coming at you live from San Jose, Costa Rica, ciudad Josefina, with a smog induced sore throat and jonesing for the ocean iiiiitttttttttttttttttt's Hemma!
Ok, so I have been sucking it up on the blog the last while. I keep telling myself I am going to get online and make it happen but life keeps getting filled up with other things. I am not sure what those things are but I have a feeling work might have a bit to do with it.
Mostly the last while has been dealing with the beast of a cold front that trampled its way across Costa Rica. I have never bitched so much about the weather in my life. It was so wet that my shoes started to mold and I forgot what the sun looked like. Finally it made its appearance making my last crew of passengers very happy. I threw myself on a chaise lounge and burned the crap out of my left armpit, so much for sun protective deodorant.
I've been off for the last couple days in SJO, not my favorite place to be stuck, but it does have its charms. I managed to get about half of my clothes stolen (yes mikee I have just decided going au natural is better) so when ALAINA arrived I made her go shopping with me. Shopping has lead me to a cultural observation here... regardless of your actual size everyone here thinks they aren't bigger than a medium which makes shopping and a griga gigante pretty frustrating.
More importantly has been the incredible amount of laughter that has occurred as a result of Alaina y Gemma in Costa Rica. Not unlike most times it is hard for me to recall what exactly was so damn funny, but here are a couple of my top moments...
telling the story of Eva puking in the cab on my, oh wait I mean ALAINA'S jeans in spanish
ordering extra whipped cream on our tcby sundae the day I decided to stop eating dairy
jumping rope in mall San Pedro
Alaina thinks that I should share that I have bought a jump rope in another attempt to not be an embarrassingly out of shape ex-athlete. Good idea dad.
Otherwise it has been randomness, laughter, a bit too much pilsner, an amazing trip kayaking through the mangroves (i should write more about that) and my first sushi since leaving the states (if that isn't a reason to love San Jose I don't know what is).
Ok, so I have been sucking it up on the blog the last while. I keep telling myself I am going to get online and make it happen but life keeps getting filled up with other things. I am not sure what those things are but I have a feeling work might have a bit to do with it.
Mostly the last while has been dealing with the beast of a cold front that trampled its way across Costa Rica. I have never bitched so much about the weather in my life. It was so wet that my shoes started to mold and I forgot what the sun looked like. Finally it made its appearance making my last crew of passengers very happy. I threw myself on a chaise lounge and burned the crap out of my left armpit, so much for sun protective deodorant.
I've been off for the last couple days in SJO, not my favorite place to be stuck, but it does have its charms. I managed to get about half of my clothes stolen (yes mikee I have just decided going au natural is better) so when ALAINA arrived I made her go shopping with me. Shopping has lead me to a cultural observation here... regardless of your actual size everyone here thinks they aren't bigger than a medium which makes shopping and a griga gigante pretty frustrating.
More importantly has been the incredible amount of laughter that has occurred as a result of Alaina y Gemma in Costa Rica. Not unlike most times it is hard for me to recall what exactly was so damn funny, but here are a couple of my top moments...
telling the story of Eva puking in the cab on my, oh wait I mean ALAINA'S jeans in spanish
ordering extra whipped cream on our tcby sundae the day I decided to stop eating dairy
jumping rope in mall San Pedro
Alaina thinks that I should share that I have bought a jump rope in another attempt to not be an embarrassingly out of shape ex-athlete. Good idea dad.
Otherwise it has been randomness, laughter, a bit too much pilsner, an amazing trip kayaking through the mangroves (i should write more about that) and my first sushi since leaving the states (if that isn't a reason to love San Jose I don't know what is).
Saturday, September 6, 2008
te extraño
Nestor next to his newly repainted van which is still missing its bumper.Isla Ompetepe, Nicaragua
Long exposure on the beach. Isla Ometepe, Nicaragua.
Summit of the "Extreme Hike." La Fortuna, Costa Rica.
Early morning on Ometepe. Isla Ometepe, Nicaragua.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
¡chao ticolandia!
It is strange to feel like my time in Central America is winding down. I am on my last run through Costa Rica right now, and it is making me a bit sentimental, well as sentimental as a person can get over things like gallo pinto, maje, tuanis, rapid fire tico spanish, and lizano. Eva would contend one can get pretty sentimental over all of that, and surprisingly I would have to agree. My relationship with Costa Rica has grown and changed over my time here, stretching from a brief 3 weeks to a tumultuous 7 and a half month on again off again relationship.
Costa Rica always reminds me of a over popular teenage boy with too long limbs, a bit of acne, and a streak of attitude. In short it is a country that is growing, fertilized by US interests. I won't lie, when I showed up here, fresh off the plane I was disappointed, there wasn't enough shocking difference for me. I like it when you get off the plane, everything smells strange, and you feel knocked on your ass by difference. And though San Jose does have its share of classic central american semi-constructed concrete and re-bar, it isn't much different than say, Hawaii. And then there were the Ticos themselves, who mystified me with their elusive culture. Which now seems strange because tico-ness seems so obvious in a funny way, but at the beginning I just didn't get it. Even now I am not sure I can explain what makes a tico different from a nica, but there is a difference.
For all my hard ass tendencies, I feel like I have fallen in love with all of these countries. Fallen in love with the quirks, the strange things that make them unique and lovable, even the parts that drive me half crazy.
As for Costa Rica, what will I miss? I think mostly the sun drenched joy of Ticos which even persists through a trying rainy season. I have never met a people who seem so enamored and proud of their country. Today I went on a hike on Cerro Chato, the extinct volcano next to Arenal. We had two guides totally geeked out with the swarovsky binos, telling us about birds, making bird calls, and generally just loving the jungle. And it isn´t just the guides that are like this, everyone wants to share what an amazing place Costa Rica is with you. Taxistas, old ladies, even the cows are stoked to be from here.
Friday, May 2, 2008
the current state of things
I still have volcanic mud embedded in my pinky toes. I am recovering from a visit to the orchid gardens on a caffeine high. And I haven't posted about anything since the islas de bahia. Shit.
I'm not even sure if at this point I can catch up on all the activity. I am thinking that photos might be the solution, but of course I have my camera with me but not the cord, and I am pretty sure that the Monteverde internet might implode under the pressure of photo uploading.
What is a girl to do???
My only solution, which is my always solution is go with randomness...
From the paraiso of utila we shot down south to the stunning metropolis of Tegus. I feel bad because I have never had the time to give Tegus a chance, Kyle tells me it is a kind of cool place to hang out but I have lost my tolerance for central american cities so I think the relationship will continue to be limited to watching tv at the hotel and eating at Los Toros. Our roll on from Tegus to Granada was upgraded from the terror of four buses and a coaster to an air conditioned van including a stop at a texaco that sold reese's peanutbutter cups ( a candy which i had previously believed was endemic to the eeuu). Upon arrival to Granada the day was only improved by the news that we were staying at a nicer hotel.
This was my fifth visit to Granada. I feel like I have developed a love hate relationship with the place. I hate Granada during the day time unless the Garden Cafe is open. I love Granada as soon as the sun sets. I hate the smell of Granada, in the heat it is only worse, and I really hate hate hate that bullshit traditional dance with the giant lady and her tiny tiny pirate husband that is accompanied by the loudest drumming ever. But I can't keep that sourness in my heart for a place that has two wood fire pizza places, one of which serves pizza with potatoes and rosemary. I actually ended up eating pizza two nights in a row, the first time post-volcano/bat/porcupine, and the second time in a wind storm.
Maybe the best thing other than the pizza that happened while I was there was buying new conditioner. I ran out of conditioner in Belize and my hair had been suffering through the last three countries. I finally cracked in Granada and have been using obscene amounts since then. And I shaved my legs... it was a big day for me. Nothing like random hair care and hair removal to make you feel like a girl.
After spending most of monday in and out of the garden cafe, and eating my farewell to Granada breakfast there we headed off to Ometepe. Ooooooo weee. Nestor picked us up after a particularly rough boat ride in his ever being repaired 31 year old van. Less than a hour later we arrived at the shores of Cocibolca to our fly covered hotel.
For some reason all of southern Nicaragua is covered in swarms of the most useless flies ever. They die way too easily to be of any use, and any time I asked about them I received the same answer, "it is fly season." The good thing is the damn flies don't hang out in the cloud forest, and my full day on Ometepe was spent climbing the cloud forest covered Volcan Madera. It was pretty sweet, the center of the volcano has been filled up by water and turned into a lagoon. The cloud forest was particularly cloudy that day so we only caught sight of parts of the far shore, but the overall vibe was very LOTR, plus I saw some pink ferns (which made up for my disappointing sea horse encounter).
Post-volcano recovery included two mugs of black tea and a steamroller nap which left me feeling more tender than I had started. The next day was off to Costa Rica with a 5 am wake up. OOOOOfffftah... ferry, taxi, and then the dreaded evil penas blancas. I HATE Penas Blancas. It is hot, dusty, inconvenient, and no I will not give you a regalo so that I won't have to stand in line for an immigration form where everywhere else in the world just hands them out freely. And why does Tica bus have their own immigration forms? Yarrrgh. The only bright spot in the whole situation is the fact that the Costa Rican office is air conditioned otherwise the whole exercise is evil.
The nice thing is that 1 hour and 20 minutes from the border is Liberia. Liberia is either heaven or Babylon. I can't figure out which, but it has soft serve, mineral water, aguacate and freshly baked bread. And I always make Don Taco stop there for lunch. From there it is a crazy jaunt to the cool air of Monteverde, where I find myself now.
I'm not even sure if at this point I can catch up on all the activity. I am thinking that photos might be the solution, but of course I have my camera with me but not the cord, and I am pretty sure that the Monteverde internet might implode under the pressure of photo uploading.
What is a girl to do???
My only solution, which is my always solution is go with randomness...
From the paraiso of utila we shot down south to the stunning metropolis of Tegus. I feel bad because I have never had the time to give Tegus a chance, Kyle tells me it is a kind of cool place to hang out but I have lost my tolerance for central american cities so I think the relationship will continue to be limited to watching tv at the hotel and eating at Los Toros. Our roll on from Tegus to Granada was upgraded from the terror of four buses and a coaster to an air conditioned van including a stop at a texaco that sold reese's peanutbutter cups ( a candy which i had previously believed was endemic to the eeuu). Upon arrival to Granada the day was only improved by the news that we were staying at a nicer hotel.
This was my fifth visit to Granada. I feel like I have developed a love hate relationship with the place. I hate Granada during the day time unless the Garden Cafe is open. I love Granada as soon as the sun sets. I hate the smell of Granada, in the heat it is only worse, and I really hate hate hate that bullshit traditional dance with the giant lady and her tiny tiny pirate husband that is accompanied by the loudest drumming ever. But I can't keep that sourness in my heart for a place that has two wood fire pizza places, one of which serves pizza with potatoes and rosemary. I actually ended up eating pizza two nights in a row, the first time post-volcano/bat/porcupine, and the second time in a wind storm.
Maybe the best thing other than the pizza that happened while I was there was buying new conditioner. I ran out of conditioner in Belize and my hair had been suffering through the last three countries. I finally cracked in Granada and have been using obscene amounts since then. And I shaved my legs... it was a big day for me. Nothing like random hair care and hair removal to make you feel like a girl.
After spending most of monday in and out of the garden cafe, and eating my farewell to Granada breakfast there we headed off to Ometepe. Ooooooo weee. Nestor picked us up after a particularly rough boat ride in his ever being repaired 31 year old van. Less than a hour later we arrived at the shores of Cocibolca to our fly covered hotel.
For some reason all of southern Nicaragua is covered in swarms of the most useless flies ever. They die way too easily to be of any use, and any time I asked about them I received the same answer, "it is fly season." The good thing is the damn flies don't hang out in the cloud forest, and my full day on Ometepe was spent climbing the cloud forest covered Volcan Madera. It was pretty sweet, the center of the volcano has been filled up by water and turned into a lagoon. The cloud forest was particularly cloudy that day so we only caught sight of parts of the far shore, but the overall vibe was very LOTR, plus I saw some pink ferns (which made up for my disappointing sea horse encounter).
Post-volcano recovery included two mugs of black tea and a steamroller nap which left me feeling more tender than I had started. The next day was off to Costa Rica with a 5 am wake up. OOOOOfffftah... ferry, taxi, and then the dreaded evil penas blancas. I HATE Penas Blancas. It is hot, dusty, inconvenient, and no I will not give you a regalo so that I won't have to stand in line for an immigration form where everywhere else in the world just hands them out freely. And why does Tica bus have their own immigration forms? Yarrrgh. The only bright spot in the whole situation is the fact that the Costa Rican office is air conditioned otherwise the whole exercise is evil.
The nice thing is that 1 hour and 20 minutes from the border is Liberia. Liberia is either heaven or Babylon. I can't figure out which, but it has soft serve, mineral water, aguacate and freshly baked bread. And I always make Don Taco stop there for lunch. From there it is a crazy jaunt to the cool air of Monteverde, where I find myself now.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
the reality of traveling
Always my intent with emailing, writing, blogging, drawing, etc. whilst on the road is to some how convey or express the abundance of unexpected beauty that exists in this world. I often find myself feeling torn between just being in the moment and also wanting to some how preserve those moments especially to share. It is tough in any given day so many bizarre interactions and moments occur there is absolutley no way to convey them all. I consider Paul Theroux and his unbelievable accounts of riding the trains through Asia. His ability to remember in detail conversations and tiny anecdotes. The prospect of trying to emulate that is overwhelming.
What has happened today and yesterday, the smells, the tastes, the feelings of it all. How can I explain how San Jose smells in the rain? How Soma´s Gallo Pinto tastes?
Today we ate breakfast with a friend of Eva´s at Q Cafe, a place that is clearly catering to foreigners with its color palatte, menu and lighting scheme. We spent four hours talking about all the important things two gringas and a british 16 year old would talk about: various government structures, why English milk might be the best in the world, crazy tico stereotypes, you know all the standard stuff.
After the epic breakfast Eva and I took off for the Tica bus terminal to get my ticket changed to tomorrow, and to include a stop in Granada. San Jose will be down to one Charlie´s angel starting thursday.
The whole bus ticket situation is pretty much indicitive of how things work here. Eva had bought the ticket for me so that I could get into the country. Knowing that we would have to change the dates we had made sure that this was possible by checking the website and even further had been confirmed by one of the employees when we called earlier this week. What they failed to mention, until we showed up last night, is that there is only one man imbued with the magical powers to change bus tickets. And last night that man was at home, probably eating a warm dinner as the rain fell over a dark San Jose. So this morning we returned to meet the man and change the ticket. But was the man there? Of course not, somehow we managed to show up on his lunch break, so it was another twenty minutes before he was back at the desk ready to make things happen. I will give the tica bus people credit for something, the magic ticket changing man speaks flawless english, I mean near perfect with no accent. Which when you are me, hacking scentences together or just staying silent entirely so that Eva can figure shit out, having an English speaker makes your day. To get the ticket we needed a copy of my passport, which luckily could be procured across the street from Victor a Swede who runs a chop shop with a photocopier. He gave Eva and I his card with a calendar conveniently printed on the back. When we returned my magic bus man said something about how Victor holds everybody up because he loves to talk and then got to the important business of asking me if I was single, for ticket purposes of course.
See all that and it was barely two o´clock, which only explains why this whole blog/travel/me being my crazy self in a foreign country takes a lot of words blog entries, postcards and pages in my journal to expalin. If only someone would pay me to write about it all. sigh.
What has happened today and yesterday, the smells, the tastes, the feelings of it all. How can I explain how San Jose smells in the rain? How Soma´s Gallo Pinto tastes?
Today we ate breakfast with a friend of Eva´s at Q Cafe, a place that is clearly catering to foreigners with its color palatte, menu and lighting scheme. We spent four hours talking about all the important things two gringas and a british 16 year old would talk about: various government structures, why English milk might be the best in the world, crazy tico stereotypes, you know all the standard stuff.
After the epic breakfast Eva and I took off for the Tica bus terminal to get my ticket changed to tomorrow, and to include a stop in Granada. San Jose will be down to one Charlie´s angel starting thursday.
The whole bus ticket situation is pretty much indicitive of how things work here. Eva had bought the ticket for me so that I could get into the country. Knowing that we would have to change the dates we had made sure that this was possible by checking the website and even further had been confirmed by one of the employees when we called earlier this week. What they failed to mention, until we showed up last night, is that there is only one man imbued with the magical powers to change bus tickets. And last night that man was at home, probably eating a warm dinner as the rain fell over a dark San Jose. So this morning we returned to meet the man and change the ticket. But was the man there? Of course not, somehow we managed to show up on his lunch break, so it was another twenty minutes before he was back at the desk ready to make things happen. I will give the tica bus people credit for something, the magic ticket changing man speaks flawless english, I mean near perfect with no accent. Which when you are me, hacking scentences together or just staying silent entirely so that Eva can figure shit out, having an English speaker makes your day. To get the ticket we needed a copy of my passport, which luckily could be procured across the street from Victor a Swede who runs a chop shop with a photocopier. He gave Eva and I his card with a calendar conveniently printed on the back. When we returned my magic bus man said something about how Victor holds everybody up because he loves to talk and then got to the important business of asking me if I was single, for ticket purposes of course.
See all that and it was barely two o´clock, which only explains why this whole blog/travel/me being my crazy self in a foreign country takes a lot of words blog entries, postcards and pages in my journal to expalin. If only someone would pay me to write about it all. sigh.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
las gringas versus Puerto Viejo
So Bocas was grand, I am not sure I made that clear on the last entry, and I would wax on about it, but way too much ridiculousness went down on Friday so we'll have to skip playing international guess-who and hanging out at the Super Gourmet.
Kerri left Friday morning to head back to SJ, leaving us again as one Panamanian put it, "charlie's angels." We had breakfast at Lili's Killing Me Man sauce, and discussed Al Gore's Nobel Peace Prize over fruit and coffees. Then we did some panamanian bargaining with a very confused man, and headed back to pack.
After a sweaty border crossing which did include some wild ferry dancing, as well as a frenzied sprint to the pharmacy to buy bus tickets to Nicaragua and to print out flight itineraries so that we could all get back into Costa Rica, we were confronted with a choice: to kick it in the lovely border town of Sixaola with the orange juice man or to pay a man to drive us in his bob marley taxi to Puerto Viejo. We opted for the taxi, in which also a piled a belgian, another american, and Fernando a tico who organizes Karoke contests. At one point while riding in the Bob Marley taxi, so named as it was covered in Bob paraphenilia, the Belgian asked, ´who sings this song?´ Now I am not going to judge people on normal music trivia, but as the said vehicle we were riding in was covered in Bob´s face and as Bob´s music is known the world over for being played in every costal laid back stoner town I was taken slightly aback. This was only increased when the other American in the car gave pause to consider who might be singing. I am not judging, I swear, just reporting this event to you with total objectivity.
This anecdote really has no purpose in this post, what is far more important is what followed our departure from our reggae ride.
This series of events has been named, ¨the day I sweat my body weight walking around Puerto Viejo¨or ¨the day of no vacancy.¨
For those of you lucky enough to remember stories of, or if you are really lucky maybe even experienced Krabi pants, let me tell you what occurred in Puerto Viejo makes that pale in comparison. To keep your interest I will boil it down to it´s most important parts:
Rolling into town on the friday of a long holiday weekend.
Realizing that not only was monday a holiday, but that there was also a huge bike race going on concurrently.
Wandering down the main dusty ass road in mid-day heat looking for lodging for four hours which included encounters with:
Some how we managed to get a nice room for one night. After showering which was much needed, and dropping off our four kilos of laundry we went to eat dinner. Soma, Eva´s friend, and his friend, Herman showed up with Pilsen in hand so we formed a plan that included Guaro, nasty local rum, and headed for the local Super. What follows is a little hazy as it involved Ticos, Chong, Guaro, Fumamos, and a long dusty walk home with Platanos in hand.
The day ended with the following score:
Gringas-- 0 Puerto Viejo-- tome chi chi.
Kerri left Friday morning to head back to SJ, leaving us again as one Panamanian put it, "charlie's angels." We had breakfast at Lili's Killing Me Man sauce, and discussed Al Gore's Nobel Peace Prize over fruit and coffees. Then we did some panamanian bargaining with a very confused man, and headed back to pack.
After a sweaty border crossing which did include some wild ferry dancing, as well as a frenzied sprint to the pharmacy to buy bus tickets to Nicaragua and to print out flight itineraries so that we could all get back into Costa Rica, we were confronted with a choice: to kick it in the lovely border town of Sixaola with the orange juice man or to pay a man to drive us in his bob marley taxi to Puerto Viejo. We opted for the taxi, in which also a piled a belgian, another american, and Fernando a tico who organizes Karoke contests. At one point while riding in the Bob Marley taxi, so named as it was covered in Bob paraphenilia, the Belgian asked, ´who sings this song?´ Now I am not going to judge people on normal music trivia, but as the said vehicle we were riding in was covered in Bob´s face and as Bob´s music is known the world over for being played in every costal laid back stoner town I was taken slightly aback. This was only increased when the other American in the car gave pause to consider who might be singing. I am not judging, I swear, just reporting this event to you with total objectivity.
This anecdote really has no purpose in this post, what is far more important is what followed our departure from our reggae ride.
This series of events has been named, ¨the day I sweat my body weight walking around Puerto Viejo¨or ¨the day of no vacancy.¨
For those of you lucky enough to remember stories of, or if you are really lucky maybe even experienced Krabi pants, let me tell you what occurred in Puerto Viejo makes that pale in comparison. To keep your interest I will boil it down to it´s most important parts:
Rolling into town on the friday of a long holiday weekend.
Realizing that not only was monday a holiday, but that there was also a huge bike race going on concurrently.
Wandering down the main dusty ass road in mid-day heat looking for lodging for four hours which included encounters with:
- Mr. Rogers from EarandNosehair
- One tooth, the weaver, who had two beds, and two hammocks for us to sleep in.
- Mr. Vermont the owner of Kaya a hostel that has more dust than occupants
- Some famous Gringo surfer who was sleeping on his hostel´s reception counter.
Some how we managed to get a nice room for one night. After showering which was much needed, and dropping off our four kilos of laundry we went to eat dinner. Soma, Eva´s friend, and his friend, Herman showed up with Pilsen in hand so we formed a plan that included Guaro, nasty local rum, and headed for the local Super. What follows is a little hazy as it involved Ticos, Chong, Guaro, Fumamos, and a long dusty walk home with Platanos in hand.
The day ended with the following score:
Gringas-- 0 Puerto Viejo-- tome chi chi.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
http://www.nacion.com/proa/2007/octubre/07/proa1259615.html
Eva was published today in La Nacion's sunday magazine Proa. If the link doesn't work still go check it out and see her photos. I tried reading the article, but it is in spanish, and therefor challenging to read, but worth it.
Oh and the ticos are voting on the CAFTA referendum today so be sure to check out the results, the nyt should have something about it all.
Eva was published today in La Nacion's sunday magazine Proa. If the link doesn't work still go check it out and see her photos. I tried reading the article, but it is in spanish, and therefor challenging to read, but worth it.
Oh and the ticos are voting on the CAFTA referendum today so be sure to check out the results, the nyt should have something about it all.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
urban hiking costa steeze
So some of you may have been around for stories of my last crap hiking adventure in a foreign country aka, ¨forced march through Vietnamese jungle.¨ Today would be entitled ¨manuel antonio is overrated.¨ I really try not to get down on incredibly disappointing national park experiences but man when you can hike through the jungle in Havianas you are not my friend, hiking. The upside was we got to hang with Emiliano and Carlo again. Carlo, being a friendly Italian and after living in Manuel Antonio for 15 years, knows everybody. ¨Che cosa fai?¨gets yelled at everybody he knows and that is just about everybody who isn´t wearing white tennis shoes or black socks. He was a great tour guide, pointing out a small alligator, capuchin monkeys, and finally two, not one, but two sloths. Mandy was beside herself in giggles. It was in a word, awesome. The hiking out to the vista point, aside from the wildlife was underwhelming, I´ve gone on urban hikes in Seattle that have gotten me more excited.
After kicking it on the park´s playa and watching the local racoons and monkeys run off with people´s belongings we left the park and headed for sandier pastures. Mandy and I spent most of this afternoon sitting under an umbrella being served by our cabana boy. We´re on vacation, or at least Mandy is, and I figured we better start acting like it.
So it ended up being a good day. I am a little disenchanted with this national park thing, but I prefer that to the place being razed for condos, which appears to be the fate of much of this small country´s coast line.
After kicking it on the park´s playa and watching the local racoons and monkeys run off with people´s belongings we left the park and headed for sandier pastures. Mandy and I spent most of this afternoon sitting under an umbrella being served by our cabana boy. We´re on vacation, or at least Mandy is, and I figured we better start acting like it.
So it ended up being a good day. I am a little disenchanted with this national park thing, but I prefer that to the place being razed for condos, which appears to be the fate of much of this small country´s coast line.
international uno
After a ridiculous 12 hours of bus travel we finally arrived in a very wet Manuel Antonio last night to visit Eva´s Argentine friend, Emiliano. Regardless of the long day traveling, which I mostly slept through, last night ended up being one of the most enjoyable we´ve had here. Upon arrival we were informed, much to Mandy´s excitement, that we could do laundry with a washer and dryer. It was decided that we would make dinner and buy laundry soap, so the group of us set off in the rain to the local super. I dig on foreign markets, there is always a lot of weird shit to stare at. Buying laundry soap was overwhelming for me as there are about a hundred to choose from and all of them have labels written in espanish. I left that important job to Mandy. The rest of us were left to choose what to make for dinner. That morning in La Nacion, Costa´s big newspaper, we had read that they are attempting to raise egg consumption in the country, so in support we decided to make huevos for dinner.
Back at the ranch Emiliano bailed on us for soccer and left us to make dinner, do laundry and shower the mud from the road off. Upon his return things digressed into drinking rum and cokes and upon Carlos´arrival playing the uno.
So apparently Uno is big in Utah, because Grace had all sorts of crazy add-on rules that had to be explained first in english and then translated to spanish. The one that made everyone nuts was doubling down, which resulted in much yelling as the evening progressed. After three games everyone was pooped from laughing so hard and we ended the evening watching movies on Emiliano´s computer of his friends throwing each other in the mud.
Back at the ranch Emiliano bailed on us for soccer and left us to make dinner, do laundry and shower the mud from the road off. Upon his return things digressed into drinking rum and cokes and upon Carlos´arrival playing the uno.
So apparently Uno is big in Utah, because Grace had all sorts of crazy add-on rules that had to be explained first in english and then translated to spanish. The one that made everyone nuts was doubling down, which resulted in much yelling as the evening progressed. After three games everyone was pooped from laughing so hard and we ended the evening watching movies on Emiliano´s computer of his friends throwing each other in the mud.
Friday, October 5, 2007
chao nicoya penninsula
Miss Eva is famoso, well one of her pictures is: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_pictures/7028216.stm
check it out.
I'm sitting at an outside internet cafe listening to salsa and digesting gallo pinto and natilla. bueno. We just arrived in Puntarenas waiting for our bus to Manuel Antonio to visit a friend of Eva's and check out the national park.
We left Mal Pais this morning after having an international time hanging at Tranquilo Backpackers. That place was full of characters including but not limited to: a tico version of cheech and chong, german boys who enjoy building sand castles, aregentines with whom to drink hot mate on the beach, gary and randy a british and an american duo who were either surfing, drinking or watching surfing movies, and finally two frogs who smoked as much as they surfed. The four gringas brought some feminine flavor to the party, but as Eva pointed out we probably would have triumphed in an arm wrestling competition.
It's always a little sad to leave a fun collection of travelers, but we've to places to see.
xo
check it out.
I'm sitting at an outside internet cafe listening to salsa and digesting gallo pinto and natilla. bueno. We just arrived in Puntarenas waiting for our bus to Manuel Antonio to visit a friend of Eva's and check out the national park.
We left Mal Pais this morning after having an international time hanging at Tranquilo Backpackers. That place was full of characters including but not limited to: a tico version of cheech and chong, german boys who enjoy building sand castles, aregentines with whom to drink hot mate on the beach, gary and randy a british and an american duo who were either surfing, drinking or watching surfing movies, and finally two frogs who smoked as much as they surfed. The four gringas brought some feminine flavor to the party, but as Eva pointed out we probably would have triumphed in an arm wrestling competition.
It's always a little sad to leave a fun collection of travelers, but we've to places to see.
xo
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
wild life
We spent the last three-ish days in Montezuma, which is a small coastal town on the pacific coast. On our first full day there we took a boat ride out to isla tortuga. We got to snorkle around a little islet right off the coast, but it is the rainy season so the visibility was bad and there was only so much to see. Luckily the beach on the island was nice and we scored a sunny day. Rather than ride the boat back from the snorkle site to the beach Mandy, Grace, and I decided to swim back. It was FAR. I was glad we had fins. This is a moment where a picture to show you how far we swam would be appropos but the internet here isn't up to adventures like that.
The whole chilling on sparsley populated island on white sand under palm trees was thrilling but things started to get really good on the boat ride back. First we saw some sea turtles mating in the open ocean. They were incredible looking and some of my favorite animals so I was more than stoked. And then not five minutes later our boat captain pointed out the spray coming from some humpback whales. We spent the next half an hour watching them surface and even saw one of their flukes. I tried to share all my "wonderful whales" knowledge that I learned this summer with the kids at the Marine Mammal Center with my boatmates. I'm sure they were impressed, just deep down inside.
We landed and went in search of Eva who was due in Montezuma on the 4:30 bus, but she was no where to be found. Showers and low blood sugar at the internet cafe followed and just as we were heading to dinner Eva showed up on the 6:30 bus. She knew of a good pizza joint where we got down with some bomb pizza cooked up by a colombian family. Then it was internet and off to bed for an early evening.
Today has been waterfalls, walk to the beach, taxi to Mal Pais, email, and long hours on the beach under beautiful clouds. Good stuff. Might try to learn to surf tomorrow and goal is no BLOG. I'm addicted.
The whole chilling on sparsley populated island on white sand under palm trees was thrilling but things started to get really good on the boat ride back. First we saw some sea turtles mating in the open ocean. They were incredible looking and some of my favorite animals so I was more than stoked. And then not five minutes later our boat captain pointed out the spray coming from some humpback whales. We spent the next half an hour watching them surface and even saw one of their flukes. I tried to share all my "wonderful whales" knowledge that I learned this summer with the kids at the Marine Mammal Center with my boatmates. I'm sure they were impressed, just deep down inside.
We landed and went in search of Eva who was due in Montezuma on the 4:30 bus, but she was no where to be found. Showers and low blood sugar at the internet cafe followed and just as we were heading to dinner Eva showed up on the 6:30 bus. She knew of a good pizza joint where we got down with some bomb pizza cooked up by a colombian family. Then it was internet and off to bed for an early evening.
Today has been waterfalls, walk to the beach, taxi to Mal Pais, email, and long hours on the beach under beautiful clouds. Good stuff. Might try to learn to surf tomorrow and goal is no BLOG. I'm addicted.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Montezuma´s Revenge
I love that the morning that I wake up to go to a place called Motezuma my stomach starts acting up. Nothing a coke couldn't solve, but made me laugh all the same.
So Mandy and I bailed on the city and headed out to the Pacific coast. We had a little bit of a timing issue with buses, but people are pretty helpful here and we managed ok. Two knee bruising hours later we arrived in Puntarenas to catch a ferry to the Nicoya Penninsula. Mandy and I started walking the 2km to the ferry but some how got strong armed in to a taxi by a tico taxi driver, which was good as we only just made the ferry. Eva had described the ferry as ¨bainbridge-like.¨ I am guessing she must have rode it on a glass flat day because what we experienced was far from the mellow ride from seattle to that fair island. We were rocking over 7 foot swells, sitting on the rooftop watching tico couples make out and dance to salsa. Not your typical Bainbridge commuter ferry experience.
Along the way we picked up a like-minded soul, Grace, who hails from the glorious state of Utah. She joined us on the bus ride to Motezuma and for a late lunch when we finally arrived. After a couple of low blood sugar induced bad decisions I am now a firm believer that one should never make important decisions on an empty stomach, and as all I had eaten that day was some fluffy bread and a coke, food was on my mind before shelter. Post-casados I was harangued into checking out a room by a very persistent tica, which being beach front and $30/night wasn't Kecil steeze but was pretty sweet. My one complaint is the swamp bathroom, something I thought I had left in Asia.
After settling in we headed down the beach to check out the scene. There are huge rocky outcroppings interspersed along the beach. We hiked out onto one larger one and started checking out the tidepools as a larger set of waves started coming in. As one large one headed towards the shore Grace warned me, but I was being stubborn and figured it wouldn't come in that far. As this is a story about me I am sure you can imagine what might have happened. Much to Mandy's delight I was covered from head to toe with a wall of sea spray. She has a photo to prove it, not a flattering one but documentation all the same. After that we wandered back into town to check out all the thai goods the locals sell at US prices and then went out to dinner.
And that my friends was my yesterday.
Along the way we picked up a like-minded soul, Grace, who hails from the glorious state of Utah. She joined us on the bus ride to Motezuma and for a late lunch when we finally arrived. After a couple of low blood sugar induced bad decisions I am now a firm believer that one should never make important decisions on an empty stomach, and as all I had eaten that day was some fluffy bread and a coke, food was on my mind before shelter. Post-casados I was harangued into checking out a room by a very persistent tica, which being beach front and $30/night wasn't Kecil steeze but was pretty sweet. My one complaint is the swamp bathroom, something I thought I had left in Asia.
After settling in we headed down the beach to check out the scene. There are huge rocky outcroppings interspersed along the beach. We hiked out onto one larger one and started checking out the tidepools as a larger set of waves started coming in. As one large one headed towards the shore Grace warned me, but I was being stubborn and figured it wouldn't come in that far. As this is a story about me I am sure you can imagine what might have happened. Much to Mandy's delight I was covered from head to toe with a wall of sea spray. She has a photo to prove it, not a flattering one but documentation all the same. After that we wandered back into town to check out all the thai goods the locals sell at US prices and then went out to dinner.
And that my friends was my yesterday.
no tlc!
Eva has been working on a huge campaign against CAFTA in Costa. And on last Sunday there was a huge march against it, but in CR, CAFTA is TLC, hence the post name. I am pretty sure the last political march I participated in was an AIDS parade in SF, I got to man a bubble gun. This was a little different, but no less colorful. Eva asked me to describe the experience in three words, they follow: energetic, inspiring....... and ¨well, really inspiring.¨ Much to Eva and Mandy´s amusement I had said the same word twice and I genuinely meant it both times. One of the main roads in San Jose was full of people. An old man looked at me as we came around this huge bend and saw just how many people were there and in Spanish he said, ¨I have goosebumps.¨I did too.
Eva said, and I agree, if you knew nothing about CAFTA, but you saw that the people against it were the mariachis, women, environmentalists, college kids, and pueblos you would know what side to vote for.
They vote this Sunday, so send some good energy south.
Eva said, and I agree, if you knew nothing about CAFTA, but you saw that the people against it were the mariachis, women, environmentalists, college kids, and pueblos you would know what side to vote for.
They vote this Sunday, so send some good energy south.
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