Al Norte

I'm back in Liberia, as a necessary stop on the way to Nicaragua. I left Jenny in Montezuma, waiting for a shuttle to the airport. It was great to see her--I can't believe it's been almost a year since I said goodbye to her in Coria. We spent a long time reliving our Spanish experiences, talking about some of the intolerable people we knew there, missing the food; we probably bored Emily to with it. The three of us went to Monteverde and Montezuma on the Nicoya Peninsula.

Monteverde was amazing. When I was trying to figure out what to do when Jenny came, she told me the only thing she really wanted to do was go on a zipline. We did a canopy tour which lasted about 3 hours and consisted of 14 ziplines and a Tarzan swing. I was pretty terrified before we began (heights not being a personal strength) because I had no idea what to expect. We had picked the tour at random the night before, bleary-eyed after 5 hours on the bus (as I am at the current moment--what's new?). We got in to these ridiculous harnesses and helmets-- yeah, that's right, safety is ridiculous-- and worked our way up slowly, starting on small lines. The longest one was 750 meters long, spanning an entire valley. The wind is so strong up there and the whole experience is surreal, gliding (swinging, flying?) so high above everything. The scariest thing was the Tarzan swing. I didn't know what it was before we started the tour, and Jenny knew what it was but didn't know it was going to be on the tour, or we may have chosen differently. It's just a huge swing, where you jump (drop, plummet) from a platform and free fall before swinging impossibly far (and, in my case, coming very close to a tree). I'm not quite sure how I managed to step off the platform but the swinging itself was so much fun and I'm certain I had a -eating grin on my face. It sounded painful while others were doing it (screams, not of but of pain) but I think it was just the guys that had problems there (hah!).

That afternoon we went to the Monteverde National Preserve. We did a whirlwind tour of the area and unfortunately didn't see very much wildlife because we didn't go in the morning (no quetzals, alas) but the trees there are incredible. They're so tall and everything is so green. The weather was beautiful--ironic, that I finally have good weather in a cloud forest.

Next day we went to Montezuma on the Nicoya Peninsula, spectacular beach. Best one I've seen yet.

Tomorrow to Nicaragua!

Guanacaste

I am in Liberia, Guanacaste; it is entirely different from any other part of Costa Rica I've seen yet. It's dry, incredibly sunny (as the guy at the hotel said: "por la mañana, hace sol; por la tarde, hace sol; por la noche, hace sol), hot. Not at all jungly or humid like the rest of the places I've been. And there are sabaneros (cowboys) everywhere! Herding horses down the street, riding through town. It's very interesting. I've always had an aversion to cowboys (Marlboro man, anyone?) but I really enjoy seeing these ones around--especially because they're actually doing something and aren't just hicks wearing cowboy hats spitting tobacco.

The landscape is beautiful. It's very stark but so green near the rivers. Today I went to the Parque Nacional Santa Rosa and saw a tropical dry forest with the tree of the region, the Guanacaste. The budding/flowering season is completely different from our own ("spring" doesn't mean flowers or leaves necessarily) as some trees lose their leaves during the summer, the dry season, to conserve water. Thus the budding happens in winter, or the rainy season. It's strange to see leafless trees everywhere while it's so hot and sunny.

Yesterday I went to the Parque Nacional Rincón de la Vieja (Corner of the Old Woman, literally). It was amazing: by far my favorite park in Costa Rica. It has fumaroles, mud pots, steaming, sulfurous pits of boiling water. The landscape is striking, with some of the strangest trees I've ever seen. All against a backdrop of tall ridges and impossibly blue sky. I hiked to the Catarata Escondida (Hidden waterfall) and for most of the hike I believed that it couldn't exist because there was no water anywhere and it seemed simply impossible. But I found it, it was possible, and there was an incredible view into the valley below where the water fell several hundred feet beneath me.

I really like this region but the heat is very intense and there are so many biting bugs so it seems good to leave soon. I'm meeting Jenny at the airport in a few days and I can't wait!

Cascanueces

Back in San José. It's strange to be back here after 2 months. I guess I should count myself lucky for not having to come back here sooner as it's the main transportation hub in the country. A lot has happened in the last week or so. I made it to Punta Mona with little mishap--well, less than would be expected on a hike through the jungle with unmarked trails with our entire packs in ankle- and calf-deep mud with a map drawn by someone who had attempted it, gotten lost, and was later told the way by someone else. After about 2 hours of hiking through muddy, mosquito-infested trails, Emily and I came upon a farm. It didn't really seem like the right place, but I assumed that there weren't very many residences out there. I asked the guy working on a shed, "¿Dónde estamos?" to which he replied "Punta Mona", sealing any doubts I had about the place. He seemed a little agitated by our presence and asked us to wait down on the beach for the dueños to come back in about an hour. So we went down to the beach, skinny dipped for awhile, ate our "lunch" (oreos, crackers, peanut butter) and climbed back up to the farm. The same guy came back and seemed even more agitated. After a long series of awkward questions, we finally determined we were in the wrong place and that the farm we were searching for was farther down the trail. When asked the location of something, who gives the geographical feature? I found it hilarious but the guy didn't even crack a smile. He pointed us down the trail. Another hour of slogging through mud, but even deeper, wetter, stickier. At one point Emily's shoes were sucked into the mud and she had to a) balance rather gracefully to avoid tumbling over with the weight of her bag and b) walk in her socks in the mud to extract her shoes (with several loud sucking sounds). This was also hilarious and I did my best to avoid that area. We finally arrived in Punta Mona (the actual organic farm, not the geographical feature which we had been hiking on already for several hours).

I spent two days at Punta Mona, during which it rained on and off the entiretime. I had a great time, though. It's an organic farm which is sustainable and mostly self-reliant. Basically, a commune of a bunch of hippies from the US and Canada who wanted to escape our sociopoliticaleconomic system. Communal, vegetarian meals (absolutely amazing) with produce from the farm, yoga at 6am on an open wooden platform from which you can hear the jungle, the ocean, the rain, the birds, the howler monkeys. I would have stayed longer but the weather was terrible and I was getting tired of staring out at the beautiful Caribbean through a sheet of rain. The hike out was less eventful, took about half the time because they lent us rubber boots. It would have been impossible otherwise because of the (even) increased mud from several days of constant rain. I saw many red dart frogs on the trail.

I spent two nights in Puerto Viejo, hoping that the weather would clear. One day was mostly sunny with several unannounced downpours. I did manage a bit of beach time. That night, the last night there, I was awoken at 2am to painfully loud reggaeton and lots of shouting. I was a bit disoriented and it took a few minutes to realize that there was a man outside shouting about how he had a right to do what he wanted in his own home, etc. I went out to the balcony to see what the fuss was and everyone from the hostal was out there too. Some guy (stoned? as the Norwegian girls suggested because they had never seen someone high before; drunk, more likely) was outside at the entrance of the hostal yelling and shaking the bars while several of the ticos staying at the hostal were trying to reason with him (I have no idea where the owners were: not where they should have been, caring for their hostal). We were all peering down the stairs when there was a gunshot. Mass exodus of gringos and europeos back to the dorm room. We all got in bed, absolutely shocked and completely unsure of what to do. Not that there was much to do besides stay in the dorm room and listen to his music. A little while later, some dumb American staying in a different room went out to the balcony and threw a bottle at his house, hitting the tin roof and making a really loud noise. The music stopped and we all waited to see what would happen. The guy retaliated by throwing several things (bottles?) at our tin roof. Loud, but not that scary as they were obviously not gun shots. Obvious to me but the two Norwegian girls ran to my side of the room and threw themselves under my bed and the one next to it. Eventually some women outside started arguing with the man and he turned the music off. The Norwegian girls climbed out and went to bed. All nine of us in the dorm left the next morning.

Nothing so eventful here in San José. Yesterday I went to the Museo de Arte y Diseño Contemporáneo where I stumbled upon a "summer festival" and so got to see the National Symphonic Orchestra last night for free. I haven't seen an orchestra in years and this one was really good. They played about 9 pieces, among them 2 from the Nutcracker (Cascanueces--is it Christmas?), 2 from Harry Potter (yeah, I don't get it either), and several Costa Rican songs during which everyone around me cheered and shouted a bunch.

I'm happy to be out of the rain and looking forward to impending trips to Arenal, Monteverde, Irazú, Liberia.

2 water taxis, 4 buses and 3 border crossings

I'm back in Costa Rica after 2 water taxis, 3 buses and 3 border crossings (as the title suggests--I'm waiting for the 4th bus currently) today. Three times across the border because on the first trip across the rickety bridge there was no one on the Panamanian side whose job seemed to be stamping passports. So the jerk official on the Costa Rican side made me return to Panama for a stamp (this time with a line pointing to the obscure office), thus making me cross that stupid bridge between the two countries three times. It's obviously old and has oddly placed planks and is filled with people, so the multiple crossings made the whole situation even more annoying. I'm coming from Isla Bastimentos in Bocas del Toro, which is highly preferable to Isla Colón, the main island there. It's so strange to go from absolute tourist trap (albeit with excellent Indian food) with 40 hotels to an island with no cars or roads where the nightlife is nonexistent and the "street" is quiet by 9pm. There was a consensus among all the travellers on Bastimentos as to how horrible Bocas Town on Isla Colón was. A bunch of 20-year-olds Americans who can't drink at home so they come here to form little cliques in the hostal. Very strange. I also had some amazing food on Bastimentos. There's a Thai restaurant run by an American man and Thai woman up this slippery, muddy slope into the jungle. It was delicious--as I had been lacking Thai food for 2 months now. I also had some of the best fish of my life: red snapper with a "Caribbean sauce". I don't even know: riquísimo. I met some pretty cool people there, too. Three Texans who had graduated from UT Austin (Texas, I know, scary but) who basically convinced me to go to that university instead of the one in Montreal. I am just kidding but I've had great luck with finding out about possible grad schools while I've been here. Saw a British guy I'd met a couple weeks ago in Boca Brava. Three hilarious Germans who are in Panama studying bugs and other creep critters who taught an enthralled audience about various tropical diseases we had never heard of (Chagas disease, anyone?) and how long we could go before we lost a limb or our life after various types of snakes bit us. The mating habits of small, introduced lizards. The weather wasn't great and the beaches weren't very accessible but I really enjoyed myself.

So, back in expensive Costa Rica. It's going to be a shock, I'm sure. Getting used to this currency again... I'm going to miss Panama. I loved the country and especially some of the food. Ceviche (also found in CR), hojaldres (fried dough which sounds kinda gross but excellent), rice and beans with coconut milk (also CR I think), various type of fresh juices (superior to CR), that "Caribbean sauce". I wish I could have spent more time here and gone further south/east. I'm excited to be back here too; tomorrow Emily and I will attempt to hike in to Punta Mona, something of a communal organic farm where someone we met a long time ago now is staying. I do hope we don't get bitten by a terciopelo or get lost in the jungle!