Author Archives: Bob

Finishing with a flourish

There are many ways to view this trip.

Here at the Cave’s Branch Jungle Lodge, during the final days of our journey, I’ve started to think of it as an ice cream sundae. Our journeys through Nicaragua and Costa Rica were each large scoops of different flavored ice cream. The week in Caye Caulker was a generous dose of hot fudge sauce. Cool-M farm was a generous dollop of whipped cream.

And this place is the cherry on top.

Squeezing oranges at a lodge breakfast

Squeezing oranges at a lodge breakfast

It is also a curious bookend to the experience that began this whole journey, our two weeks at La Mariposa school in Nicaragua. Both places emphasize experiential learning and communal meals. In neither place are we meant to feel like mere tourists. At the school we were students of Spanish; here we are adventurers who want to get away from comforts and into the wilderness.

Towel-art luxury meets screen-porch bedrooms.

Towel-art luxury meets screen-porch bedrooms.

The “away from comforts” part is not entirely accurate. The Caves Branch Lodge brochure stresses that the lodge does not sanitize the experience of being in the jungle. This is true, inasmuch as our cabana suite is virtually free of walls, instead relying on knee-height-to-ceiling screens to keep the bugs out. All the sounds of the surrounding landscape, be they pleasant or jarring, come through loud and clear. But the accommodations are extremely clean and nice, the indoor and outdoor showers are luxurious, and the daily towel origami has not lost its charm even after four nights here.

The lodge and guest houses are surrounded by a well-manicured, expertly designed jungle garden. There are many established trees of various varieties with an under-canopy containing an amazing collection of useful plants. Our walk from the pool to our cabana brings us past a cacao tree, an allspice bush, and a tree of the type that inspired and was used to produce Chanel No. 5. We also pass a small structure that houses dozens and dozens of varieties of orchids, including the one that produces vanilla beans. It’s very beautiful and educational, but not virgin forest brimming with wild animals — even if they do warn us to look out for snakes in the paths on our way back from dinner.
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The dinners are communal and pleasant. We have even struck up quite a friendship with a family from Massachusetts (it seems like all the guest here are from either New England or Colorado) whom we plan to keep in contact with once we get home. But the dinners feature four courses and multiple options — usually three types of meat, plus a fish option. It seems like overkill compared to our single-plate, home-sourced Mariposa dinners. The kids are not complaining, but I don’t think Jen and I will feel hungry for a few weeks.

Zoe climbs the big waterfall.

Zoe climbs the big waterfall.

As for the adventures, they have lived up to the billing. During our first two weeks in Central America, our Spanish classes drained us mentally and gave us a bridge to the culture we were about to immerse ourselves in. The Caves Branch adventures have challenged us physically and ratcheted up our adrenaline, while transporting us to places we’d never imagined we’d get to see.

Zoe called the shots in this area, proclaiming her desire to do the two most vigorous of the activities offered (our package deal here allows us three adventures). Once Lanie got the ok from the staff, we all followed Zoe’s lead.

Arnold and Lanie on their way down

Arnold and Lanie on their way down

So we found ourselves in helmets and headlamps climbing up underground waterfalls with cold, clear water splashing all around — and over — us. Then we leaped back down into the pools below. There was even one technical climb that required harnesses and ropes. The climb itself wasn’t difficult, but it was tough looking up for your next handhold with a waterfall plunging down into your face.

Waist-deep in adventure

Waist-deep in adventure

Three hours tramping around in a dark, wet cave (plus a half-hour for lunch on a huge flat rock)? No problem. We had a good group, good guides, and the kids are in good shape for adventuring. Hector the guide seemed to feel that Lanie needed a piggy back ride once in a while, but she was scrambling over rocks on her own two feet.  It is probably good that our other guide Arnold took Lanie on his back when he did the big jump off the highest waterfall. (Or it’s highly possible that we’re the worst parents ever for putting our kid — and our guide — through this. Where would we be if we weren’t questioning our sanity? Not in a cave.)

Tubing into the cave with our friend Sarah

Tubing into the cave with our friend Sarah

The next day was meant to be a rest day. We selected the cave tubing adventure, which is only rated for three sweat beads in the catalog (our other two adventures are rated for the full five six sweat beads). This adventure turned out to be a nice combination of our waterfall cave adventure — because we got very wet– and the ATM cave tour we took in San Ignacio — because we saw lots of Mayan relics.

Drinking filtered water straight from the cave ceiling

Drinking filtered water straight from the cave ceiling

In fact, the the historical elements of this cave rivaled those of the ATM cave. There was an awesome altar to the fertility god and a huge intact pot that we could walk right up to. No human remains, though. That’s why ATM gets all the limelight.  But it still doesn’t have a monopoly on skeletons.  The parents from the family we befriended took a tour of a different, dry cave that had human remains. (Their daughter accompanied us for the tubing.) They said their tour was cool.

Scrambling up the cave walls

Scrambling up the cave walls

No doubt it was. For one thing, people here tend to leave artifacts where they find them in the caves. The above-ground Mayan sites have been pillaged by locals and by early 20th-century archaeologists alike. The cave sites are more difficult to access (good luck trying to get in without helmet, headlamp and a pretty good idea of where you’re going — and even more good luck trying to get out). They were discovered many decades later than the cities, and the trend among those studying the sites now is to disturb them as little as possible.

Adventure hides in the hills around the orange grove.

Adventure hides in the hills around the orange grove.

Plus, there just seems to be an incredible amount of cool things in a relatively small area here. All three of our tours took place in the hills surrounding a single, innocuous-looking orange orchard.

Altar of the fertility god

Altar of the fertility god

Our bloodthirsty friends’ human sacrifice cave tour was in those hills, too. (Just kidding. They probably aren’t all that bloodthirsty.) That’s a lot of amazing stuff inside an area of a square mile or two, all of it a 10-minute drive from our lodge.

Zoe examines an in-tact Mayan pot.

Zoe examines an in-tact Mayan pot.

This has to do with geology. The hills are primarily limestone remains of ancient coral reefs. Rivers, the Cave Branch River among them, carve out cavities all through these hills. Ground water seeps in and dissolves minerals that eventually settle out as fantastic cave formations. The Mayans encounter the caves and take them for the entrance to the underworld, the realm of their gods, and the source of human existence.

Voila! The stage is set for adventure.

For our last trip we stayed above the ground, working on top of a cave that had collapsed creating a giant sink hole. Our task for the day was to hike a mile or so into the jungle to the edge of the sinkhole and rappel down to the bottom. The bottom was only 300 feet below. Jen calculated that to be about a 30-story building.

Nadia is ready to go.

Nadia is ready to go.

Zoe and Nadia were stalwart and somewhat stoic as they went over the edge. Lanie giggled nervously and tittered, “Oh, my gosh!” as she was lowered over (Lanie was lowered the whole way by rope from above, the rest of us used our hands and climbing equipment to lower ourselves — we were all also connected to the top by a separate safety rope managed by a guide). Jen steadfastly tried to lean back as advised, despite every rational instinct to not lean back near the edge of a 300-foot sink hole, and groaned, “I looked down. That was a mistake.”

Zoe and Lanie in transit

Zoe and Lanie in transit

I felt my breathing and heart rate accelerate to that of a cute little tiny bunny rabbit, times about a thousand.

But we all made it down, sorry to douse the suspense. I had planned to take pictures of Jen as we rappelled together, but I could not work the camera with my thick leather gloves on and I was not capable of contemplating taking my gloves off to make the camera work. We’ll have to rely on the pictures our guide Marvin took from the top and those the girls took from the bottom.

I can't believe I did this.

I can’t believe I did this.

How’s that for adventure. We even got a day off to linger around the lodge before it was time to pack up and leave. That meant access to the pools, some time to catch up on blogging, a few trips to the bar for alcoholic and non-alcoholic concoctions from Anthony the bartender (drinks were included in our package as long as we stuck with the local labels and refrained from anything that required the blender and, strangely, Gatorade).

By evening a family of howler monkeys had settled into a tree above the pools, we had gotten in a few rounds of the games we’ve lugged around for almost three months, and Nadia showed off her steadily increasing ping pong skills.

After one more four-course meal it was time to settle in for the seventy-seventh straight — and final — night in a bed that wasn’t our own.

A few of our favorite things — Costa Rica edition

We’ll go back to the land of Ticos for just a bit, if you will allow us, to share with our blog readers our favorite experiences from our four weeks in Costa Rica. This was done by secret ballot and a complicated weighing process, and it seems to faithfully represent the will of the family. (Although parasailing is second on the list and only 3/5 of the family actually parasailed, the people have spoken, and the kids really seemed to have a good time up there.)

Our Top 5 Experiences in Costa Rica
P10101401. Snorkeling at Cahuita National Park (March 30)
It was fun when we went snorkeling. We saw so many fish! I loved it! We put toothpaste inside our goggles because it made it easier to see. — Lanie

  1. Parasailing at Playa Espadilla, Manuel Antonio (April 12)

Parasailing was an amazing experience. The most exciting parts were taking off and landing. First, we soared up into the air. We went so fast! The ground sped away below us. Once we were up in the air, it was slower but still really exciting. It was so cool to be hanging suspended hundreds of feet in the air! When it was time to land, the boat slowed down and we fell into the water. When we were almost there, the boat sped up again and we flew back up a little ways. I expected the water to feel cold but it was really warm! We rode on a jetski back to the beach. — Zoe

P10100033. El Trapiche Farm Tour, Santa Elena (March 23)

How this will affect my gardening, I don’t know. Seeing the world’s three greatest (legal) vices all being cultivated on a relatively small area of land was definitely an inspirational experience for me. The liberal samples of coffee beans, cocoa beans and sugar cane in various stages of production were inspirational to everyone else in the family. We even got a tiny bit of local cuisine that was not produced from one of the farm’s “Big Three” crops. — Bob

P10101174. Whitewater rafting on the Pacuare River (March 29)

We went white water rafting in Costa Rica. It was really fun because we got to go really fast. We went for about 3 hours. We did some hiking also. There are 5 classes of rapids. Class 5 is the biggest. We got to do classes 1-3. My favorite was class 3, because they were the biggest. — Nadia

IMG_75515. Giovanni’s Birding and Animal Tour, La Fortuna (March 26)

We met lots of talented guides on this journey — those that could spy a dozen different animals where we saw only trees — but none was quite the match of Giovanni. As we barreled down the roads of La Fortuna in his van (which luckily he wasn’t driving), we would suddenly screech to a halt, and within seconds he’d be on the roadside with his telescope, beckoning us over to see a perfectly framed creature. (Later on, we found he could pull off the same stunt even when he was driving.) And he so clearly loved what he did — after a morning of shuttling us around starting at 5:30am, he actually volunteered to take us out again that afternoon so the kids could pet a baby sloth. And, against all odds, he delivered on this promise. It doesn’t get much better than that. —Jen

Sentimental family favorites:

IMG_7271Bob: Monteverde Cloud Forest Preserve. I remember walking through this park and feeling totally at peace. The high canopy and the well maintained trails made the experience comfortable and soothing. After a brush with the Resplendent Quetzal in the parking lot, we were virtually unmolested by any other wildlife — or any other tourists for that matter — for most of our walk. Also, our house was a half-kilometer from the gates. We got there on foot. This was at a time when I was not excited about driving our rental car over unpaved roads.

P1000967

I’m not sure at this point what you’re meant to be looking at in this photo, but it gives you a sense of the atmosphere.

Nadia: Santa Maria Night Tour, Santa Elena. We went on a night tour In Costa Rica. We walked around a farm with flash lights and saw a lot of animals. We saw a sloth and an olingo. I liked it because I like sloths and walking around the farm in the dark was fun.

Zoe: La Fortuna swimming hole. I really liked swimming in a natural swimming hole in La Fortuna. It was beautiful. Water cascaded into a series of small pools and then finally over a waterfall into a large, deep pool. The pool had steep sides and was perfect for jumping. It also had a rope swing. I wanted to try the swing. I was nervous because it was so high up. When I did it it was awesome! I swung out over the blue water and then let go and fell a long way to the water. It was so fun! (Sadly, we had gotten several dire warnings about being robbed, so we didn’t bring a camera and thus have no photos of this gorgeous spot.)

P1010374Jen: Manuel Antonio National Park. This place had it all — miles of gorgeous beaches, turquoise waters, trails through the jungle and into the mountains, and animals throwing themselves into our path at every turn. It’s amazing that one small area could offer so much.

Lanie: Proyecto Asis, La Fortuna/San Carlos. We took a tour around an animal rescue center. There were lots of animals, even an ocelot! After seeing them we got to feed them. I liked the ocelot. I also liked to feed the parrots. We got to go in to their cage.P1010069 (Note: Zoe wishes to document that she voted for this one too.)

Family scoresheet: Each family member voted on their favorite Costa Rica activity in order of their preference. First choices scored five points, fifth-place choices scored one. The scores were tallied and the activities ranked. Tallies and voting are listed below:

Pick Score

Snorkeling 18
Parasailing 14
El Trapiche 10
Rafting 10
Giovanni 8
MA NP 6
ASIS 5
Monteverde/quetzal 2
Swimming hole 1
Night farm tour 1

Voting

Bob

  1. El Trapiche farm tour
  2. Manuel Antonio National Park
  3. Giovanni’s bird and animal tour
  4. Snorkeling, Cahuita National Park
  5. Monteverde Cloud Forest Refuge

Jen

  1. Snorkeling in Cahuita
  2. El Trapiche
  3. Giovanni’s tour/up close with baby sloth
  4. Manuel Antonio National Park
  5. Seeing the resplendent quetzal

Zoe

  1. Parasailing
  2. Snorkeling at Cahuita National Park
  3. Whitewater Rafting
  4. Projecto ASIS
  5. Rope swing/swimming hole in La Fortuna

Nadia

  1. Whitewater Rafting
  2. Para-sailing
  3. Snorkeling at Cahuita National Park
  4. Giovanni’s Animal Tour in La Fortuna
  5. Night Farm Tour in Santa Elena/Monteverde

Elena

  1. Parasailing
  2. Snorkeling at Cahuita National Park
  3. Feeding animals at Projecto Asis
  4. Whitewater rafting
  5. El Tapiche Farm Tour

From here to there

We are stretching things to come up with new modes of travel for Jen’s list. You might remember the excitement she experienced taking a golf cart taxi from the dock in Caye Caulker. After that we felt like we had to really scrape to come up with boat-pulled inner tubes to add to her list of conveyances.

Avril gives an old-fashioned milking demonstration.  She usually uses a milking machine.

Avril gives an old-fashioned milking demonstration. She usually uses a milking machine.

Zoe opens the gate.

Zoe opens the gate.

How, we asked ourselves, would be continue our progress while stuck out in western Belize, with its highly developed system of taxis and buses?

Well, it turns out that western Belize is the perfect place to find new conveyances.

Nadia locks one in.

Nadia locks one in.

In this part of the world, where Mennonite dairy farms dot the hills over the sister towns of Santa Elena and San Ignacio, they ride cows! At least girls 13 and under do. Our hose granddaughter Cayla showed the girls how, even as her aunt Avril taught them how to milk cows.

Lanie gives food.

Lanie gives food.

Concocting in the kitchen

Concocting in the kitchen

More than that, they got to make ice cream, and repaid Avril for her time and patience (and fresh cream and eggs) by adding to Avril’s recipe book. She said she’ll always think of our family when she makes mint chocolate chip ice cream, since our girls were the ones who suggested using mint from the farm’s garden to make flavor it. (Though the real credit should be shared with our neighbors Cheryl and Kevin, who have made mint chocolate chip ice cream for us on several occasions.)

Lanie performs for the puppies

Lanie performs for the puppies

The end result

The end result

Although we were not able to ride them, the puppies on the farm deserve a mention, as well, because they entertained us so well. And while we’re at it, Avril’s sister Naomi cooked us several great breakfasts and a wonderful taco haystacks dinner, complete with home-made cilantro cream dressing.

The other new form of conveyance in the San Ignacio area is almost as off-center as cow riding. The hand-cranked car ferry that gives people access to the Maya ruins site called Xunantunich almost seemed superfluous.

ferry

Hand-cranked ferry

The ferry itself spanned more than half the river. However, the driver was very kind, giving us some Mayan historical facts as he took us from point A, on the modern side of the river where the bus stop is, to point B on the side with the antiquities.

Point B wasn’t actually where the antiquities were, but it was at least the correct side of the river. After the ferry, we still had to walk a mile to the gates of the park and another half-mile to the ruins themselves. Much of the distance was conducted over an uphill grade.

It was like Sturbridge Village, only with rocks.

It was like Sturbridge Village, only made out of rocks.

The temperature was over 100 degrees. We nearly wound up sacrifices to the demon god of heat stroke, but we had just enough water and just enough energy.  We climbed most of the structures, including the colossal “El Castillo.”  From its top we were able to see a village that was in Guatemala.

Nadia climbs El Castillo.

Nadia climbs El Castillo.

At least that’s what the guard up there said. This was the guard with no rifle, but with the smart phone blasting hip-hop music. We did not speak with the guard holding the rifle. Apparently, there is some tension between Belize and conquest-minded Guatemala, and El Castillo provides a good vantage point for the Belizians to keep an eye on the Guatemalans.

Lanie at the top

Lanie at the top

Otherwise, it was very calm and quiet at Xunantunich, the second-largest excavated Mayan site in Belize.  It once supported more than ten thousand residents.  Over the hills in Guatemala is Tikal, which once was home to over a million.  At the height of the Mayan empire, there were between one and two million people living in Belize. Currently, Belize has about 300,000 residents.  The country is littered with historical sites, both above ground and deep inside caves.

Despite our discomfort, it was definitely worth the trek to this site.  We would have been missing a major part of the country’s culture — and its appeal — if we hadn’t explored this facet of its history.

Costa Rica gets what it wants — Rid of us!

We didn’t tell you this, but before the dust of Nicaragua on our shoes had been covered by the dust of another country, when we were in no-man’s-land petitioning for entrance into Costa Rica, we had to prove one thing. It wasn’t economic means. They had posted several signs congratulating themselves on not charging an entry tariff. We didn’t have to pledge allegiance to anything. We simply had to prove that we were going to leave Costa Rica at some point before any roots grew under our feet.

Jen had to pull out her Kindle and show the confirmation for the plane tickets she bought, thankfully, the night before when we were on Ometepe pondering new adventures in a new country. Before we could get to those adventures, the man at the entry station needed to see that we had an exit strategy.

They turned up the heat, too.  It was 104 degrees in Quepos when we walked to the bus.

They turned up the heat, too. It was 104 degrees in Quepos when we walked to the bus.

That is the strategy we used yesterday to fly to Belize, leaving a country that was very nice, but all the same asked us not to let the door hit us on the way out. I mean, c’mon, yes we like tourists, yes we like your money, but we don’t want you to get too attached. Let’s just keep it casual, you know. Keep it simple, baby. Free and easy.

Anyway, Costa Rica’s a nice place, but it was clearly trying to get rid of us at the end. Jen got a stomach sickness early last week and that was just a shot across the bow.

Yesterday, for the first time in all of our experience in Central America, the bus was late. We waited in the hectic Quepos terminal, with very little information to go on, trying to figure out why the noon bus to San Jose was still not in the terminal at 12:30. It’s not you, Costa Rica wanted us to think, it’s me.

They also employed advertising to remind us of our native country in a clear attempt to draw us back to our nest. On the bus back from Quepos I saw even more signs of US cultural imperialism: Office Depot, Hooters, Carl’s Jr. — we don’t even have Carl’s Jr. in New England! How do they rate one down here?

Preparing to spend our last 3,000 Colones in the airport.

Preparing to spend our last 3,000 Colones in the airport…

In the candy aisle

…in the candy aisle.

And then, as a final boot in the pants, this weekend it seems that they froze our assets. Our debit card — our access to trip-lubricating money, our life line — would no longer work at the Bank of Costa Rica, where it had worked fine for the past four weeks. We were very lucky that Jen spotted the noble Lion of the Bank of America Central during our taxi drive to the hotel. We’d been in this country, it is clear to me, for longer than that for the country comfortable with.

Jen seriously doubts this money freezing thing really happened, even though she can’t produce another reason why our card suddenly wouldn’t work at the national bank of Costa Rica, even though it worked at BAC. I agree that it would seem counter to Costa Rica’s purposes of kicking us out. Despite the lack of an entry fee, Costa Rica does charge a hefty exit tax (like $29, per person) and if we can’t get to our bank account how are we supposed to pay? Have you thought of that, Costa Rica?

In the welcoming arms, only briefly, of  an El Salvador layover

In the welcoming arms, only briefly, of an El Salvador layover

Yes, they have. What is right there inthe airport, right next to where you queue up to pay the exit tax? It’s a cajero automoatico. Is it under the rotating cube of BCR? No, the ATM in the terminal proudly sports the BAC’s lion. We don’t need your stinking service fees, gringo, just go.

Well played, Costa Rica. I hear you loud and clear.

0n the water taxi

On the water taxi

Anyway, we’re gone. At the top of this post you can see a map of our complex journey among the Ticos. I’ll soon start the Belize map, which will feature even more water taxis, and — Jen was particularly excited at this because she’s keeping track of  modes of travel — a golf cart!

On the dock at Caye Caulker

On the dock at Caye Caulker

That’s what picked us up on the dock at Caye Caulker and drove us the kilometer to our very nice villa. We tried the pool out and then headed back into town to wait for our dear friends the Brooks family, who were in Belize and coming out for a week in another villa right here on Caye Caulker!

In a new conveyance!

In a new conveyance!

Except they weren’t on their way, they were already here. We got our first glimpse of them from about four blocks away. They were standing in the middle of the main intersection in town (on this Caye there’s only bikes, golf carts and a couple of dump trucks). Nadia spotted a large group of people — some tall, some short — wearing backpacks. It fit the profile perfectly.

We spot the Brookses.

We spot the Brookses!

They spot us!

They spot us!

By the time we caught up to them, they had sat down at a restaurant and were preparing to order some lunch. It was a joyous reunion, complete with nachos, smoothies, tug of war with a palm frond, lots of talking and a stray dog that seems to like noise and activity because she seems to have adopted our families as her own. A man with a shirt that said “Tourism Police” started to approach them, probably to put an end to the palm frond abuse, but upon taking in the entire mass of swirling children and dog, wisely decided to keep walking.

Happy kids by the sea

Happy kids by the sea

Happy parents by the seafood vendor

Happy parents by the seafood vendor

The accommodations are great here, the scenery is magnificent, and we’re ready for a week of adventure with our friends.

 

From sea to shining sea

It wasn’t the Oregon Trail, or even Route 66, but it turned out to be a pretty long day of travel linking us from Tortuguero on the Caribbean to Quepos, where we are today, on the hills above the Pacific.

Yesterday’s breakfast was administered by Mrs. Beyette’s sleepy daughter, who was kept awake be the rain. She has to sweep out the breezeway, it seems, when the roof leaks, and she said she was up late doing that. Still, she was to fuel us up, and then, hopefully, take a siesta. I don’t think there were any other guests there when we left.

A rainy start to the morning commute, but no delays reported on Tortuguero's main artery.

A rainy start to the morning commute, but no delays reported on Tortuguero’s main artery.

It was still raining as we hit the car-free road to the public boat terminal, which, surpisingly isn’t the nice town docks a little north of Mrs. Beyette’s place. Instead we walked a few minutes south to a place where the public water buses just slide up on shore a little.

We had purchased our tickets the afternoon before — 1,600 colones apiece plus 1,000 apiece for each of our big backpacks — to be sure we got on the 9 a.m. boat. An early start would be crucial in making all of our connections.

All we need now is the boat.  Plus the other boat for our luggage.

All we need now is the boat. Plus the other boat for our luggage.

The 9 a.m. water bus was sufficiently full of tourists and traveling locals that all our baggage was placed on a separate boat (and coveredy by a tarp). This proved important because not long into the trip we turned onto a small side stream that was choked with fallen logs, often very shallow, and flowing pretty consistently against our direction of travel.

IMG_7700

On the jungle cruise

Carefully navigating upstream, looking out for empty soda bottles tied to submerged hazards, the captain made his way deeper and deeper into the jungle. Several times we bumped the bottom, often we had to pull over and cede the way to boats traveling downstream, and at some point during the two-hour trip I began to realize we hadn’t seen the luggage boat since we departed Tortuguero.  Maybe its skipper knew a short cut?

After the muddy landing at La Pavona, it was land travel the rest of the way

After the muddy landing at La Pavona, it was land travel the rest of the way

It ended, as all of our travle stories have during this trip, happily enough. The luggage boat passed us about an hour and forty minutes into the trip, a few extra tarps covering its payload.  Twenty minutes later we were pulling up to the muddy hillside that was the La Pavona landing.

At the top of the hill was a depot where most tourists from our boat headed for fancy tourism transit and we got assistance from the very kind driver of the local bus. He brought us to Carriari and informed us how to get to the terminal for the San Jose bus.

It was only three blocks away and it was nestled between a bakery and a smoothie shop, very convenient for lunch time connection. Even better, we only had a 45 minute wait for the direct bus to San Jose. An initial sketch of the day’s travel contained the possibility that we would have to take another bus to another town to catch a fast bus to San Jose. Also good news: Even though the bathrooms cost 150 colones to use, the lady let me in for free.  All the ladies in our group got hit by the tarrif.   It must be my new haircut.

Lunch outside the ticket window in Carriari.

Lunch outside the ticket window in Carriari. Look for these places on the map. They really exist.

From there, it was like a highway to ever-increasing levels of civilization. We soon got back to the road we traveled to get to our rafting trip; this time we were going the other way. I recognized the large Pequeno Mundo store and the huge Taco Bell billboard well before we made it to the tunnel through the mountain. The inverse of the previous trip was true. Once we left the mountain pass and started to descend toward San Jose, the skies started to clear up.

It was dry by the time we reached the Caribbean bus terminal. A short taxi ride (very reasonable now that we know to seek out an official red taxi with an orange triangle on the side) brought us across San Jose and the public transport continental divide to the place where the Pacific-bound buses gather.

We had to wait an hour and a half for the next directo to Quepos. It was more than enough time to get a quick dinner at a corner cafe and for Zoe to inquire in the information kiosk if there was wifi in the terminal. (There wasn’t.)

The last bus trip showed just how civilized San Jose is. I spied a Walmart, P.F. Chang’s, Payless Shoe Source, Outback Steakhouse and a Pizza Hut. There was also a Simon Mall and an intriguing place called the Canada House, which featured a “Maple Market.”  Add all this to the Applebee’s I saw last week and it’s starting to feel like Stoughton.

The Sun had set by the time we reached the Pacific coast, leaving us the pleasure of seeing the sights for the first time when we venture out this morning.

Our bus driver was kind enough to drop us off a few minutes from our apartment and all that was left was a steep climb, guided by a night watchman, and the unfortunate discovery that bedroom #2, the one with the extra bed, was the one with the air conditioning unit. If not for the full day of travel behind us, Jen and I might have been nimble enough to alter the arrangements without anyone being the wiser.  The kids are attached to the room its coolness by now.  It’s pretty hot here.

Otherwise, we seem to have fine accommodations and we’re excited to see what this side of the continent has to offer us.

As a last note about today’s journey: This should be our last multi-stage public transport day (unless you count next week’s two-leg flight to Belize or the flight home, but those don’t have the drama that bus and water travel do).  We saw signs for flights we might have taken to get us across Costa Rica.  The flight from San Jose to Quepos is reported to take only 20 minutes, which is attractive compared to our three-hour bus ride.  Our travel today was efficient, both economically and ecologically, as public ground transportation usually is.   I don’t know how much the flights would have cost, but we were quoted some exorbitant rates for private shuttles to various points.  Here’s what yesterday’s intercontinental journey cost us (NB, we missed our window with Lanie; all the buses had signs that clearly said, “Children over the age of three pay full fare”):

Water taxi: 1,600 colones per person, plus 1,000 colonels each for five big backpacks =  13,000 colones or about $26

Bus from La Pavona to Carriari:  1,100 colones per person = 5,500 colones or about $11

Bus from Carriari to San Jose: 2,200 colones per person = 9,000 colones or about $18

Taxi between bus terminals in San Jose: 3,500 colones plus 1,000 colones tip = 4,500 colones or $9

Bus from San Jose to Quepos (directo with service to INVU, which is near enough our apartment that we wouldn’t need a taxi): 4,500 colones per person, plus 2,000 colones tip = 24,500 colones, or about $49.

Total trip cost: $113

Not out of adventure yet

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Actually, we didn’t all paddle. Mostly, it was just me and the guide, and even I stopped from time to time to gawk.

One might fear that we would be in danger, after 50-something days on this trip, of running out of new and exciting things to do. Worry not, oh follower of our adventures. New and exciting opportunities present themselves almost constantly here.

Jen woke up with a start the other day and said, “We haven’t been on a canoe yet during this trip!” And within an hour we were on the water paddling with our guide across the inland waterway. It was a new conveyance for us, plus we managed to encounter some new animals in the jungles and marshes. The family got to see some caimans in the wild (remember, they did not see the ones I saw on the boat ride here, and the one that was occupying the pond at the ASIS Project was practically in captivity, though it wasn’t a rescue animal and it nearly leapt out of its skin to catch a dog while we were observing it during coffee break).

We got pretty close to the Night Heron.

We got pretty close to this Night Heron. Night Heron don’t care.

The green heron was cool and so was the night heron. We were able to get up nice and close thanks to the tranquilo nature of canoe travel (there were many boats out in the channels, even before 7 a.m., but many of them had motors). In fact, our guide did not seem concerned at all about getting close to the animals or even running into them, as was the case with the first caiman we saw. There were a few other near misses, including the above-mentioned herons. The birds, to their credit seemed unperturbed by our proximity.

It should be said that we’re starting to consider ourselves experts in jungle animals, to the extent that even though our guide told us we were seeing howler monkeys, some of us were doubtful, due to the fact that the monkeys seemed to be holding onto branches with their tails. At the ASIS Project we were told that spider monkeys were the only ones in Central America with prehensile tails. At least that’s what we thought we were told. We might have actually been told that spider monkeys were the only ones at the ASIS center with prehensile tails. According to Wikipedia, both spider monkeys and howler monkeys hold onto things with their tails. It’s a good thing I kept my mouth shut during the canoe tour.

We took a homework break to watch a movie.

We took a homework break to watch a movie.

Other than that adventure and a brief walk through the National Park at the end of the main street here, we’ve been keeping a low profile. We’re not bored, mind you. The girls’ teachers have given enough homework, and the girls have waited long enough to get to it, that the days here have been filled with pretty productive study. I was even thinking of getting them some essay aid to make them get through their homework quicker. But they were pretty quick about it themselves so I just left them to it. The motivational factor is that in just over a week (!) we’ll be meeting up with our friend the Brookses in Belize, and who wants to still be working on homework with the Brookses around? Nadia’s mystery story is getting written (and quite suspense-fully, too), Zoe’s personal reading responses are flying out of her pen, and Lanie is tearing through math packets on money and measurement.

This restaurant was called the Buddha Cafe.

This restaurant was called the Buddha Cafe.

Going to restaurants for dinner every night is excitement, as well, though we’re rapidly making our way through the options available. I took the truly adventurous step of getting my hair cut at the barber whose shop is on the other side of Mrs. Beyette’s kitchen from us. Sadly, at press time no pictures exist of the results, but I was pleased enough that I told the barber I wasn’t going to be wearing my hat for a while. He said a lot of things I didn’t understand — that still happens here — and I wouldn’t let him change my part to the other side of my head, but it was not an unpleasant experience, and it will have grown in significantly by the time I make it back to the US. Also, I do still have my hat, in case the haircut honeymoon ends when I look in the mirror in the morning.

And lest we forget what true adventure is all about, tomorrow we have a trans-continental trek, Caribbean to Pacific, spanning, potentially, six legs of travel. That is adventure Central American-style. Our ipods are charged. There’s bread and peanut butter in the bag. We’ll write you again from Manuel Antonio.

The Amazon of Central America

We’re really on roll as far as adventure goes. We’ve rafted, snorkeled, battled monkeys for our lunch, and now we’re touring the Amazon. Almost.

Four hours on a boat? Check our forearms for anchor tattoos.

Four hours on a boat? Check our forearms for anchor tattoos.

Actually it’s a remote and watery region on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica that is sometimes called “The Amazon of Central America.” We took a four-hour boat ride to get here, but when we leave the ride should be shorter.

This was another example of mobile tourism, like our raft ride that linked us between San Jose and Cahuita.  But unlike that trip, this one was calm and peaceful, and we stayed mostly dry — except me, who got misted whenever the captain cranked up the engine.

Main Street Makers luggage tags: beautiful, yes, but also rugged enough for the Amazon of Central America

Main Street Makery luggage tags: beautiful, yes, but also rugged enough for the Amazon of Central America

The boat ride took us from Limon, about 50 kilometers from the house we were staying in, through winding river passages and wide sections of inland waterways. We snatched views of the ocean and of tent communities of Semana Santa revelers. We also saw ranches and homesteads that seem to be accessible only from the water. The rivers became so shallow at some points that we needed to adjust our seating arrangement in the boat to make sure we didn’t get stuck.

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Birds of the inland waterway

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Welcome to Torguguero Village

Welcome to Tortuguero Village

There was a fair amount of river traffic, but still over the four hours we were able to see lots of wildlife, especially aquatic birds. I did catch a few glimpses of caimans, and at one point I swear I saw a big iguana swimming across a wide stretch of river, but nobody else noticed these.
The destination point was Tortuguero Villiage, a community on a long, narrow strip of land flanked on one side by the inland waterway and on the other by the Caribbean.

We walked quite a while on this trail, which was build a few years ago to allow turtle-watching tours to move around without disturbing the beach.

We walked quite a while on this trail, which was build a few years ago to allow turtle-watching tours to move around without disturbing the beach.

I overheard a tour guide tell his group yesterday that the island we’re on is at some points only 200 meters wide. We tried to walk to the end yesterday but finally gave up. It’s long and narrow.

It is also a National Park and a major nesting place for three species of marine turtles. Between boat rides into the jungle, black sand beaches, and turtle tourism, there is lots to draw people here. An additional draw is the fact that there are no cars here. Most of the commercial traffic her takes place on boat; the rest is carried manually or pushed on hand carts along the wide concrete sidewalk that is the main street of Tortuguero Village. This intriguing aspect reminds us our visit to Italy a few years ago when we enjoyed wandering the alleyways and cruising the canals of Venice. The Amazon and Venice in one trip. How can you beat that?

We may not see sea turtles, but we say this guy.

We may not see sea turtles, but we saw this guy.

The only snag we’ve run into is that this is not a great time for turtles. Peak season for the most plentiful species here, the Green Sea Turtle, doesn’t begin until June. This is technically Leatherback Turtle season, but Mrs. Beyette, our hostess, tells us that the season is just beginning and things are kind of slow. A few nights ago the tour group had to walk a long way to find a turtle; it was almost midnight by that point. Mrs. Beyette says the tour would be ok for adults, but she didn’t seem to think the kids would be up for it. If it didn’t involve walking well beyond midnight, I think we’d try it .

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The Easter lollipop hunt ranged into Mrs. Beyette back yard.

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Instead, we’ve been moving forward on homework progress and also combing the plentiful gift shops of Tortuguero.  Lanie made some friends in the playground yesterday evening, and her sisters used the time to buy some candy and plot out an ersatz Easter Egg hunt.

Lanie's playground friends

Lanie’s playground pals

We’re limited by a lack of a kitchen here, but Mrs. Beyette’s family provides a nice breakfast for us — the Gallo Pinto here has more spices in it; it’s very good — and we’ve been managing to put together small lunches for ourselves.  There are multiple restaurants, some down winding foot paths, that offer us lots of dinner options.

Otherwise, we’ve been enjoying some small pleasures.  The playground is a treat, as was the rainstorm yesterday morning.  It was the first significant rain we experienced since … probably since December or November, actually.

Jen and Lanie venture into Main Street to feel the rain.

Jen and Lanie venture into Main Street to feel the rain.

It was raining at bedtime, too, and the sound of it on Mrs. Beyette’s aluminum roof was very pleasant.  Plus, it helped to cool things down.

A canoe trip may be in the cards, but swimming in the ocean probably won’t. The waves are very big and the currents are strong. We’ve only been wading so far, and it most likely won’t go beyond that.

Best of Nicaragua, part II: A dining guide

While we’re having a great time in Costa Rica, let us take a quick step back to Nicaragua for a minute. In particular, I’d like to consider Nicaraguan food. After conducting a family poll, I have found that the island of Ometepe is the dining sweet spot for most of our family in this Central American nation. Three of the five of us indicated our favorite meals and our favorite thing to eat in general came from Ometepe.

Ometepe loomed large in our family dining poll.

Ometepe, and Moyogalpa in particular, loomed large in our family dining poll.

In fact, Zoe, Lanie, Nadia and I all picked our dinners from the same restaurant as our favorites, even though we all ordered different meals. This restaurant was the unassuming La Galeria on the main street of Moyogalpa, where we ate on our last night before heading for the border. It was actually our second-choice dinner spot for the night — we were all set for the pizza place across the street from our hostel, but for some reason the pizzas were backlogged and we were facing an hour-long wait before getting our food. It was all to our benefit, as Lanie ended up loving her pasta marinara and Zoe rated very highly the two plates she shared with Nadia — four cheese pasta and terryaki chicken.

The Galeria’s menu was flexible enough to allow me to continue my pursuit of the traditional Nico dish, chicken with jalapeno sauce. Typically, I don’t go out of my way to eat spicy things, but this one caught my eye at the Nicaraguita restaurant in Leon and I ordered it a couple of times after that. It consists of a grilled piece of chicken smothered in onions and jalapino slices and a light cream sauce. It is usally accompanied by rice, slaw and plantains. The plates varied slightly every time I ordere it. At the Nicaraguita, the onions and peppers were uncooked, giving a nice crunch and a fresh flavor. On the pedestrian promenade in Granada they were pretty well sauteed, adding extra sweetness to the cream sauce. At the Galeria, the vegetables were lightly sauteed giving a little crunch and a little sweetness, but I have to admit, I liked this restaurant’s version the best because it was the biggest. It featured a really nice piece of chicken. Nadia felt the same way about her liberally seasoned terryaki chicken.  There was a lot of food that night and no leftovers.
I should add that I liked eating chicken in Nicaragua because they know how to treat their chickens there. That is to say they let their hens, chicks and roosters walk around freely, scratching away in the leaves and twigs. These are happy chickens.

The breakfast, lunch and dinner table at Finca Ojos Lindos saw has seen the end of many a good pancake.

The breakfast, lunch and dinner table at Finca Ojos Lindos has seen the end of many a good pancake.

Jen has trouble deciding, but when pressed, she votes for the breakfasts at Finca Lindos Ojos in La Miraflor. The pancakes were excellent and the coffee was welcome in the chilly mountain air, but the steamed milk, fresh from the early-morning milking of finca’s cows, is what put these breakfasts over the top for Jen. She also says nice things about the Gallo Pinto and eggs put out by Marcial’s wife, the Lindos Ojos cook (she was also the bookkeeper). Remember, too, that the coffee itself was harvested at the finca, and we could see the bushes growing from where we ate our breakfasts.

Other meals mentioned during my poll were: the macaroni casserole on our first night at the Finca Lindos Ojos, all the fresh fruit that accompanies everything, the waffles at the Rancho Esperanza, the Japanese curry at the Rancho Esperanza, the banana pancakes at the Cafe Imperio in Meridia on Ometepe, and the club sandwich at the Casa Veccio in Esteli.

Nadia is about to meet the Casa Veccio's club sandwich.

Nadia is pleased to meet the Casa Veccio’s club sandwich.

I know.  You’re thinking: Pizza?  Pancakes?  Club sandwiches?  They’re not in Central America, they’re at an Applebee’s in Central Florida.  One look at that list confirms that not everyone got into the spirit of eating Nico food. We visited a lot of Italian restaurants and pizza places.

Besides my beloved chicken with jalapenos and a nod by Jen to the Gallo Pinto at the finca, the only other local dish to make our most-remembered list was the family plate at the swimming pool restaurant on our first night in Nicaragua.

Welcome to Nicaragua.  Here's a big plate of food.

Welcome to Nicaragua. Here’s a big plate of food: The family plate.

Perhaps this can be expected after two weeks of pristinely healthy food at the Mariposa School. I myself admit to being excited upon walking into the Hollywood Pizza in Leon and encountering a few pies, some beer and pitcher of orange soda.  Oh, and breadsticks, too.  I’m surprised that place didn’t make the list.

Good wife happily eating virtuous food.

Good wife happily eating virtuous food on the patio at La Mariposa School

The food at the Mariposa should not be discounted, though. It was all grown locally and prepared well. It was mostly vegetarian and the fresh vegetables shone. Even Jen was eating beets there. The beets were so sweet! (Also, they were omni-present, so they might have just worn Jen down.) I have often heard of people going on purges at home, cutting out sugar, alcohol, caffeine, salt and/or processed foods. Eating at the Mariposa was like that for us (except for the caffeine and alcohol, of which Jen and I partook, but only moderately). We were served very little wheat or dairy.  The mere absence of cheese help my waistline immensely.  There were deserts, but they weren’t over-the-top with sweetness.  It was a very easy way to accumulate two weeks of healthy eating.

Gallo pinto in Granada.  If it comes with eggs, it must be Jen's.

Gallo pinto at our hotel in Granada. If it comes with eggs, it must be Jen’s.

One more thing before we move on to desserts. Beans and rice are very popular here — particularly for breakfast, but some people eat it for every meal. Our farm guide Marcial claimed to eat it exclusively. He never ate any fruit, he said, even though all around him trees were bursting with mangoes, bananas and papayas. I tried to eat Gallo Pinto very chance I got, and I have concluded that, while the dish is fairly standard and straightforward, my favorite version was served at the Cafe Luz in Esteli because it had more onions and peppers mixed in with the beans and rice. Marcial may not have liked it, but I did.

The only other Nico dish that I can remember trying was a Nacatamale, which I also tried at Cafe Luz. It was cornmeal cooked in a banana leaf with some pork thrown in. It was good.  It maybe picked up a little banana flavor from the leaves.  I did not feel the need to order it again, though.

We had to eat so fast we didn't get a picture of the milk shakes.  It was not far from this spot that we got them, though.

We had to eat so fast we didn’t get a picture of the milk shakes. It was not far from this spot that we got them, though.

Ok, on to dessert, which is what gets represented when you ask my family what their favorite things to eat are and you don’t pin them down to an actual meal. Three of us still remember most fondly the banana coconut milk shakes we shared at the end of our waterfall hike in Ometepe. The idea of the milkshakes may have been as a bribe to keep everyone moving on the path.  In reality, they were expensive, but huge and very good.  Sweet, rich and refreshing after an eight-kilometer hike.  (We have all decided that the last kilometer of the reportedly six-kilometer hike had another kilometer hidden in it.)  I was not going to have any milkshake, but it was clear that as hungry as everyone was, they were going to have trouble getting through them. Also, our bus driver was waiting to bring us home. They were less milkshake and more of a consistency of a Blizzard at Dairy Queen or a Friendz at Friendly’s, and they were a perfect combo of big size and great taste. Using fresh ingredients surely helped.
Other dessert highlights mentioned: gelato in Leon, mango and chocolate ice creams at the Laguna de Apollo, and the banana cream pie at the Mariposa School.

Lastly, while we’re still in Nicaragua, I should recount a story that I’m surprised Jen left out of her account of our Volcan Maderas hike. While we were at the summit, peering into the crater, we spied the Shaman of the Volcano. Our guide said the Shaman, whose name is Tom, only appears on very clear days. If you see him, you can ask one question and he’ll answer it.

We approached the friendly looking man. His twinkling eyes beheld us from between his bushy beard and his Red Sox cap pulled low.  Before we could even get a question out, he answered in slightly Manchester-accented English (that’s Manchester, NH): “You had 16 pounds of laundry in Granada.”

It was not exactly the answer to life, the Universe and everything, but it at least was pretty accurate.  The truth is that we had 17 pounds of laundry in Granada.  There may have been a wet bathing suit in there or something.  It cost close to $20 to get it washed, dried and folded, but it was worth it.

That, friends, is why you should all hike up volcanoes when you get the chance.  At least on clear days.

Your daily dose of resplendence

With apologies to our friend Carol, who trudged around Costa Rica for a week with one particular quarry in mind, and who left empty-handed, we can report that we visited the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve and saw her prized Quetzal before we even left the parking lot.

"Like a waterfall of teal"  See what I mean?

“Like a waterfall of teal” See what I mean? Kudos to Zoe for getting these pictures with our point-and-shoot camera.

It’s true. We walked to the reserve from our house, about 700 meters away from the front gates, and saw about 20 people standing in the parking lot looking up. Being a veteran of the US National Park System, I sensed something exciting was afoot. I asked a man who looked like a guide: “At what are everyone seeing here?” (This is an approximation of my Spanish now that I’m not speaking it every day.  Many people here speak fine English.) And he replied, “Why, the resplendent Quetzal, senor.” “Resplendent” almost always modifies this bird in these parts.

The girls didn't ignore the coati.

The girls didn’t ignore the coati.

Sure enough, like a waterfall of metallic teal feathers from a high branch in a tree, serenely sat the bird that brings thousands and thousands of expensive cameras with long lenses to Costa Rica. Moreover, as I was inside buying our tickets and inquiring if there was a chance of getting a guide through the preserve, Jen and the girls spotted two more Quetzals (slighly-less-resplendent females). Anyone who bothered to look down saw a trio of coatis, which are like mild-mannered racoons with long noses, practically doing synchronized acrobatics in a empty parking space trying to garner some attention.

Cool, yes.  Resplendent?  Maybe not.

Cool, yes. Resplendent? Maybe not.

It was almost too much. As it turned out, it was almost everything we saw for the day. If animals were so easy to find you were in danger of parking your car on top of them, who needs a guide?  Am I right?  Actually, no. We guided ourselves through the preserve enjoying lovely scenery and appreciating the well-marked, well-maintained trails, but all we managed to observe of the fauna was a big millipede and several nondescript birds. To be sure, we must have walked by dozens of lovely specimens invisible to our un-trained and un-magnified eyes.

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Now, a waterfall of water

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A suspension bridge gave a view into the top of the canopy.

We might have opted for a guide — they are highly recommended here — if we could have used a credit card to pay for his services, but all of the reserve’s guides were booked and the mercenary squad only accepts cash. Our visit to the Bank of Costa Rica was scheduled for the afternoon. Also, it seems that the pricing system here does not favor our family. One person can rent a guide for $18, it seems, but a family of five has to pay $18 per person, which sounded a little steep for us. Even after the guy told us he’d waive the fee for Lanie it was a little steep.

The reserve turned out to be a nice place to stroll. We saw a waterfall, lots of cool flowers (which also might have benefitted from a guide’s description) and nice views from a lookout point.

After visiting the reserva, we headed back to our house. (The Quetzals had migrated, but the coatis were still scampering around the parking lot.) Nadia and I walked a few kilometers into town to visit the cajero automatico, then we met the rest of the family at a pizza place that turned out to be several degrees nicer than we expected or were dressed for. Who puts a nice restaurant two miles out past where the paved road ends? At least we were there early enough that there were few people to offend with our emphatic lack of resplendency.

During our walk, Nadia and I also checked out a store run by a cooperative of local artisans. It was a Monteverde version of Durham’s own Main Street Makery. It’s good for us that our travel schedule restricts us from buying large items. The furniture, particularly the hand-made wooden chairs in Nicaragua, were beautiful. The hammocks are appealing, too, but even these are just too big for us to haul around.  Save our money for more tours, that’s what I say.

Tomorrow we’ll take the rest of the family to the coop to see what they think.

Nicaragua Farewell

Ometepe was our last stop in Nicaragua. From there, after a comfortably uneventful ferry to the mainland (aided in some quarters by Dramamine), we accepted a taxista’s offer of a $25 ride to the border — about 45 minutes south — and began our walk into Costa Rica.

A family of five from the USA makes for a fine seminar in document checking.  Most of these people are trainees for the Nicaraguan border service.

A family of five from the USA makes for a fine seminar in document checking. Most of these people are trainees for the Nicaraguan border service.

The border crossing was not really straight forward. It was more of a zig-zag across a large tractor-trailer parking lot. It suggested some acrimony between Nicaragua and Costa Rica, as if they needed 300 meters and a double row of semis to keep the respective populations from throwing rocks at one another.

Our taxista pointed out disused buildings on both sides of the road about 10 km from the trucks and the parking lot that he said used to be the border. “They were having problems in San Jose and we took some land from them,” is what the taxista appeared to say. “It was many years ago.” I asked him if San Jose (the capital of Costa Rica when I don’t call it San Juan) got angry over that. “Who knows what they think?” the taxista said.

You have to love the Nicaraguans. They took very good care of us, from Leopoldo the night watchman at La Mariposa, to the guy with the potleaf hat on the microbus to Managua, to Marcial in La Miraflor, to this last taxi driver, who gave me tips on speaking Spanish with the Costa Ricans. Basically, after the first major city we got to, Liberia, where many Nicaraguan emigres live, everyone we’ll meet will speak very fast and use strange words. Instead of saying “tranquillo,” the Costa Ricans will say, “pura vida.”

After a long line of tractor trailers, Costa Rica beckons.

After a long line of tractor trailers, Costa Rica beckons.

It’s more expensive in Costa Rica, too. Many people have told us. “Any question you have, you’ll have to pay $5 for the answer,” somebody once told me. When I express how much we’ve liked Nicaragua, a common response from Nicaraguans has been, “yeah, it’s cheap here.”

So there is a bit of an inferiority complex here, but the Nicos persevere. And they have made a great impression on us. Among the things we’ve appreciated the most has been the public transportation system, which promises to take you anywhere you want in the country provided you switch buses enough times and can get across the larger cities from one terminal to the other. Some American told us early in our time here, “Well…you have to understand that the buses don’t leave until they’re full…” This is a slanderous remark, in Nicaragua at least. Every bus we took (ferries, too, for that matter) left exactly at the posted time. Of course, they have been pretty full, and they tend to get more full as they go along. Still, we found them a very efficient — and yes, cheap — way to get around.

Just a quick word on the term “Chicken Bus,” which is what some people call the local buses.  It should be said that while almost all of the local, intercity buses we took were converted school buses, often heavily laden with people and produce, we did not see a single chicken in or on top of a bus. True, we did see one tied to a pillar in the Esteli bus station, but it might have been part of the concession. There was just about every other kind of food imaginable at the terminals.

In fact, I came to the conclusion that it would be pointless to take a chicken on a bus from anywhere to anywhere in Nicaragua because no matter where you ended up, as soon as you got off the bus, there would be more chickens there waiting for you. Chickens are ubiquitous in Nicaragua, except on the buses. In a land of poultry saturation, where almost every night of sleep was perforated by crowing roosters, the chicken buses have been for us a chicken-free zone.

But buses are just one part of the appeal here. I have enjoyed the food, more so than the rest of the family, perhaps. I have become a connoisseur of gallo pinto and I’ve had several fine dishes of chicken with jalapeno sauce. The fruit and vegetables have been very fresh — I even eat beets now, though Jen seems to have abandoned the habit rather quickly. Most dinners have come with a side salad of chopped cabbage that I have liked. Tona beer has been a fine acquaintance on this trip, and the two-for-60 $C mojitos on the main tourist strip of Granada were fine friends, too.

The country boasts two tremendous assets even beyond its budget mixed drinks. The first is its people, kind and patient with my Spanish. Knowledgeable and cheerful, too, as a general characteristic. We have made many friends in Nicaragua. The second is the landscape and natural diversity. It’s been said that we’ll see more animals in Costa Rica, but I don’t know that we’ll have an experience as amazing as the bat cave at the Volcan Masaya National Park, or the crater of Volcan Masaya itself. We may not get as close to a sloth as we did on Mombacho, or as deep in the mud as we did on top of Volcan Maderas. Really, we have no complaints about our experiences in Nicaragua.

It was like a little bit of Durham history, right there in Ometepe.

It was like a little bit of Durham history, right there in Ometepe.

Especially since the country rolled out a special gift to us on our penultimate day in residence. Traveling from Hotel La Omaja back to Moyogalpa, where we would spend the night before taking the ferry back to the mainland, we stopped at a natural spring pool called Los Ojos del Agua. It was a beautiful spot that caught my attention because it seemed to attract Nicaraguenses and tourists in equal measures. Then Jen pointed out that the pool reminded here of another spring-fed pool we used to frequent. Seacoast NH readers of this blog might recognize a little of the dearly departed UNH Outdoor Pool in the greenish blue water of Los Ojos del Agua. Nicaragua gave us a chance to remember one of our favorite places in Durham — albeit with a tarzan swing, grass-roofed huts, and palm trees — one last time before the future takes over our local outdoor swimming lives. It made us even more sad to say we’re on our way.

When I’ve told Nicaraguans how much I like it here, they frequently ask (after noting how cheap it is) if we’ll come back. I almost always say yes, though I’m not really as sure as I sound. There are many places to visit in this world and we have a limited amount of time to travel. We definitely plan to stay involved in the country, possibly by helping to fund Paulette’s projects in La Concepcion or the orphanage in Ometepe where our hotel owner volunteered.

If we do ever return, it’s not clear that we’ll be coming back to the same place. Most tourists we’ve talked to seem to agree that Nicaragua is poised for major changes in the coming decade. It’s likely we’ll find more paved roads with extra lanes, more walled communities, more mega resorts, fewer drink deals. I hope that the Nicaraguans don’t get left out of this. It’s worth noting that every place we stayed in, except for our hotel in Granada, was owned by foreigners. I don’t think we consciously discriminated against Nicaraguans. It’s possible that foreigners are more savvy about marketing themselves online, where Jen does her research. I hope that some Nicaraguans studying at UCA in Managua today learn to use this tool and become able to grab some of the flood of tourist dollars for themselves. There certainly are tons of reasons why people reading this blog should consider coming down for a week or so, and it would be nice to think of some of our friends, or their children or nieces, benefiting from your patronage.