Wally Wanderlust

My Summer in Costa Rica - J. Todd Walters

Friday, July 29, 2005

Random Quickie

Ok...so don't ask me how i did it, but i did. I got up at 5:15 am this morning to play tennis with maximo. absolutely insane. when he knocked on my door and i woke up, i thought i had a flight to catch or somthing. but no, i remembered i had somehow agreed to play tennis this early. i think i guilted myself into it, because i didn't go running last night. Anyway - this is just a quicky...so...Maximo still beat me, but I finally got my act together...I only double faulted a handful of times in 2 sets, and took many games i ended up losing to multiple dueces...and i played my game and gave maximo the run around. In the end it was 6-2 and 6-4...and when we were done I was glad i gave myself a kick in the A$$ and got outta bed...but i gotta tell ya, now that it is 2 pm and i am still at work i am ready to take a nap.

After work on Friday - I did head home and take that nap…necessary. Then woke up and watched a video that Maximo and Rebeca made 12 years ago as a tourism guide to Costa Rica. They told me some great stories about making the video, traveling around the country in tiny little airplanes, leaning out the open door to shoot video footage…or riding on a train across the countryside and drinking beers without eating breakfast while they waited for the right spot to shoot and being a little tipsy while saying their lines. And the video itself was really interesting…I wish I had seen it at the start of my trip for it highlighted lots of amazing places, as well as history, culture, and practical information. A job well done, and it made Maximo a nice chunk of change. He is currently thinking about updating it.

After the video everyone was starving and they invited me to take part in a family tradition. Everytime Maximo travels (he leaves for El Salvador on a Habitat trip on Saturday morning) the whole family goes out to eat at their favorite Chinese food restaurant the night before he leaves and the night that he gets back. So we all piled into the car and headed off for some of the best Chinese food I have ever eaten…and whenever anything tastes that good you just can’t stop yourself from eating it, until it is all gone. So we did just that, and they pretty much had to roll us out to the car when we were done. Despite invitations from Liza and Sol and their friends to go out later that night…between the early morning tennis match and the massive amounts of Chinese food, I went home and read for about ½ and hour and crashed hard. Got a great night sleep – which was much needed, and relished the chance to sleep late Saturday morning cause I cancelled my travel plans.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

FRIDAY - Puerto Viejo with Rory & Wes

The infamous Rory McMoil was in country with his familia and was able to manipulate his plane ticket home to spend the weekend with wally. Joining the intrepid duo at the last minute was the illustrious International Volunteer Coordinator for Habitat – Wes Weston. I met Rory for lunch after multiple communication mixups – first he called Maximos house on Thursday night and left a message with a number, but the number he left was for a medical clinic and not for the hotel where he was staying. So we never got in touch on Thursday; then on Friday he tried calling my work around 11:30 when he arrived at the meeting place – but for some reason Habitat’s phone system blocked the number of the payphone from getting through…so I had no idea where he was, or what he was doing…Finally around 12:15 he hopped on a computer at the internet café and sent me a quick email (right after I sent him an email telling him I would wait at the meeting place for 30 min then meet him at the bus station). SO after finally getting a response from him, I busted out of work and hustled down to the meeting spot and we grabbed a quick lunch and caught up with some stories from the past few months. After trying to negotiate for some Cuban cigars (pricing is atrocious around here) unsuccessfully we attempted to catch a taxi…which is never a problem (especially for 2 gringos)…but today it was. So when we finally got in the taxi we told him to step on it for we had a bus to catch in 20 minutes. The cabbie earned his tip and got us to the bus station in 10 minutes…where we met up with a patiently waiting Wes. We hopped on the bus and settled in for the 4 hour journey to the Caribbean coast and the region of Limon, specifically the town of Puerto Viejo (the reggae capitol of Costa Rica). Unfortunately for the 6 foot tall wally, I was seated in the seat with the least amount of legroom (right on top of the front wheel house) in a seat that was already cramped enough. Fortunately I had the always entertaining Rory McMoil to regale me with ridiculous stories from his adventures in Brazil – with one of the foremost environmental scientists in the world who he sat next to on the plane and who invited him to attend an International Environmental Law conference being held in his honor in Sao Paulo …to the hot Italian chicky who picked him up at a Brazilian bar…to trying to learn Portugese side by side with the ridiculous linguistic genius that it Patrick Quirk. SO despite the cramped space and the creaky knees the 4 hours passed fairly quickly and we arrived in Puerto Viejo as the sun was setting and the night was getting ready to begin. We were off the bus all of 90 seconds before being engaged by our first Tico Rasta who predictably attempted to peddle his wares; but was at least working the front of handing out coupons for a free beer at one of the bar/restaurants in town. We accepted his coupon and were on our way as it was a little walk through town to our cabina 1.5 km to the South of Puerto Viejo in the tiny beach village of Playa Cocochles. The 30 minute walk was just long enough to stretch our legs, as well as give us a chance to get acquainted with the layout of PV. Upon arrival to the cabina – at La Costa de Papito, (good site) we promptly accepted the first beer of the night as we patiently waited for the check in process. We grabbed another beer when it was time to head to the cabina – and made our way along these pathways made from different colored round cement blocks – that looked like tiles on a game of Candyland or Chutes and Ladders. The cabina was really nice, a little hammock chair and a corner table with built-in benches on the porch, a great tiled shower in the bathroom, and two beds with a rollaway tucked inbetween in the main room…not to shabby for $17 bucks a night. The best part was that it had some privacy (only 5 other cabinas) and that it was quiet and dark in the mornings allowing us to sleep late. After a third round of cervesas, a few quick showers to wash the road dust off our faces, we were pretty hungry and headed into town to grab dinner. We found this nice little restaurant and settled in for a long slow dinner. Being at the coast I was compelled to order seafood and had some excellent shrimp in a spicy coconut sauce with a salad and fries…of course a beer or two accompanied dinner. After dinner we headed off looking for a place that came highly recommended for it’s Reggae – Bambu Bar. Not difficult to find, just needed to follow the sound of the bass lines and Bob Marleys passionate lyrics to a tiny little spot right on the beach. The music system was good, the beers were cheap, the crowd was a mix of gringos from all over the US, France, England, Netherlands and Germany; some local Ticos (mostly trying to pick up the gringas) and the requisite rastas with their big heads of nappy dreads, their Jamaican colors and the permanent spliff in their mouths. We settled on a bench on the beach and watched as Rory played with this huge rock which was covered with 100 glowing white candles on every surface and crevice. After knocking two of them over in true clumsy gringo style, he managed to stand both of them back up, as well as add a third one of his own before calling it quits. We met a group of girlies from Chicago and chatted with them for a while as Rory attempted to mac…we chatted with some of the rastas for a while but they weren’t interested in hanging out with the gringos just in trying to take our money. We had a crazy late night drunken debauchery as we thought that I had been pick pocketed, and lost all of the money that rory had given me when he went swimming…then we thought that rory had lost it in the ocean…and then we thought this other kid who was hanging with us had taken it while we weren’t paying attention and trying to figure the whole fiasco out. In the end we avoided blows, chalked it up to karma, and called it a night. On the way home in a fit of drunken idiocy rory and I started sprinting on the potholed dirt road…and rory kicked off his sandals so he could go faster then me (and I admit when he did that he secured the victory) but his bare feet couldn’t take the vicious pounding on the uneven rocky surface…and he woke up in the morning with a hole in one heel and a hole in the ball of the other foot both filled with sand.

Saturday - Bike Ride to Manzanillo

After the ridiculous evening the night before we were extremely happy that the cabina was private, quiet, had a great fan and was dark as night…we slept till 10 am :o) After a long slow morning showering, and performing surgery on rory’s foot with a jack knife and some tweezers we moseyed on down the road towards town…and low and behold…at just the spot where we went running the night before Rory found his wet tobacco pouch that contained all his money that started the drunken debacle from the evening before. We laughed at the instant karma and found a small little soda where we would end up eating breakfast for the next 3 mornings. The food was delicious…scrambled eggs with onions and tomatoes, gallo pinto with plenty of lizano salsa, and of course the necessary multiple cups of café con leche. Rory seemed to have worked up a yeomans appetite after his night swimming and running and proceeded to order 3 breakfasts…in addition to the gallo pinto and eggs, he had a crepe with fresh fruit and a bowl of yogurt and granola also with fresh fruit…and both Wes and I were impressed that he cleaned his plates. As we were leaving the soda we saw 3 bikes just chilling right in front ready to be rented…and because there were 3 it seemed they were destined to be ours, so we snagged them for 2mill colones (about $4 for the rest of the day). We rode our bikes into town so we could pick up our return bus tickets home – only to find that the ticket guy was out on an extended siesta…short for a 2 hour lunch. We gave up after a few trys of banging on the door and peering in the window…decided to change our pace and leave behind the troubles of the world and hit the beach. We biked down to Playa Cocochles and found a long stretch of beach that wasn’t that crowded…and we claimed a spot in the shade of a cashew tree (cause the nuts that fall from them are only about the size of a baby’s fist, as opposed to the coconut trees which can drop bombs bigger then wallys noggin) Rory and I played Frisbee for an hour working up a good sweat, while wes grabbed some additional Zzzzz in the shade. After the disc toss – which was awesome…we hit the waves for a little body surfing. Unfortunately the undertow here is really bad (dozens of people drown every year), and the waves offer up a beating any chance they get…so we caught a few waves to body surf, and bobbed with the really big ones…but eventually called it quits as the ceaseless nature of the ocean won as always. After a little while just chilling and appreciating how lucky we were to be in this gorgeous place…I realized that I needed my camera to try and capture what my eyes were witnessing. SO Rory and I bounced back to the cabina (5 min ride) took a quick shower to get the salt off, and grabbed our cameras and a couple of bottles of water. When we got back to the beach we saw a dune buggy just chilling, maybe 25 meters from Wes, but he was sleeping so he had no idea until we told him to take a look. After a few minutes we got Wes up and headed off down the coast to Punta Uva and Manzanillo (12 km away). The ride was amazing, through different sections of rainforest, crazy plant life, lots of flowers and tons of birds and insects buzzing and chirping. As we rode up and down small hill on our single gear beach cruiser bicycles we raced each other like 15 year old kids. When we finally reached Manzanillo we hopped off and checked out the tiny quiet town (definitely a place I would return to, especially over Puerto Viejo…just a much more positive vibe). We peeked in little shops and inquired about places to stay – but they were booked solid, and it was getting late so we hopped back on the bicycles and decided to make one last stop at Punta Uva on the way back. We got to Punta Uva just as the sun was changing the colors of the sky from blue to purple to orange and red (not the Pacific Coast sunsets, but it set a nice atmosphere for a frisbee toss in the gloaming) One last dip in the ocean and we were on our way to return the bikes. We snagged a beer at the local cornerstore for the walk back to the cabina and chilled out for a few hours, just chatting and telling stories, and talking about what an awesome day it was (renting the bikes was a clutch idea…highly recommended). Eventually we got hungry and headed into PV for a little Jerk chicken (not run by a local, but by a transplanted German woman). She didn’t have the requisite liquor license to sell beer, so she let rory borrow her scooter to go grab a bottle of local rum…which she mixed into drinks with all types of fruit…delish…the chicken was pretty damn good as well (slow roasted all day long so that it was so tender it fell right off the bone.) After dinner we walked around town but the dance clubs were too hot, stuffy and crowded…and the music was subpar after listening to all the good reggae the night before. We stopped and listened to a local band that was pretty bad, and called it quits early. Wes and I had our second meeting of the nightcap club back at the cabina (though rory passed out early), we hung out for another hour listening to music on the ipod and telling stories of traveling. Before getting another good night sleep.

Sunday at Rocking J's

Woke up early on Sunday morning due to the tame Saturday evening and we were out of the cabina by 9:30…and on bikes for our last ½ day at the cabina to try an maximize time on our way into town for breakfast at the soda and to get to the bus station before the siesta. Breakfast was delicious as usual, and I added a little twist today by also getting a badito – which is a fresh fruit drink made with ice and water…just a yummy start to the day. We snagged the bus tickets no problem – though there are no assigned seats on the way home – so it may be a free for all WWF styleee so that you don’t have to stand in the aisle for the 4 hour ride. On the way back we stopped at Rocking J’s – a huge hostel, that has hostel dorm rooms, tents for rent as well as tent areas for your own, and hammocks for rent…but there weren’t any openings yet. So we got back to the cabina and checked out; and while rory surfed the internet looking for a hostel in San Jose for the night as his flight left EARLY Monday morning; Wes and I walked back towards town stopping in and asking about vacancies and prices…after several NO VACANCIES (due to the National Holiday – Guanacaste Day) and a few more, “sure we have a room…$75 bucks”…we were back in front of Rocking J’s…and this time we were in luck. Checkout was at 11:30 so we were able to score 2 bunks in a 4 bunk room for $7….sweet. After Rory found us, dropped his gear in our locker, he and I bounced through a trail in the forest littered with red and black crabs back to Playa Cocochles for one last Frisbee toss and swim before he had to bounce and catch the 4 pm bus. After another round of body surfing we were sun drying when one of Rory’s friends he met the week before in Tortugero came strolling along. He introduced his buddy “Steve” who just happened to be from Beantown…a financial analyst from Lexington who was taking a year long sabbatical and who looked suspiciously like Gene Wilder aka Willy Wonka. We chatted briefly before it was time to bounce back through the forest to rocking J’s…where I took a quick shower, and busted out the ipod for a little sublime in the hammock while Rory was showering and packing and changing into travel clothes. After checking once again on the hole in his foot (he claimed to be alright) we said our goodbyes and he was on his way. Spent the rest of the afternoon in hammock zen, just swaying with the breeze, alternately listening to music and listening to the waves and the sounds of many different languages…while drifting in and out of consciousness and watching the thoughts play on the screen in my mind without trying to control them, just letting them wander where they may. Just before sunset Wes roused me from my reverie and told me about this cliff spot we had to check out. So it was back on the trail between Puerto Viejo and Playa Cocochles, only this time we veered off on a barely distinguishable path to the left that lead around a HUGE banyan tree and curved upwards for a 50 meter climb. As we reached the top I was instantly aware that this was a pretty special place. On a small point that separated PV from Cocochles there was a solid rock outcropping that divided the incoming waves as they smashed up against it’s point. We could see for km in both directions down the coast, and directly infront of us was a small island off the coast…and to the right of that was a gaggle of surfers watching the ocean for the best beach break waves. Every time a big wave would strike the foot of the cliff a huge wall of spray was sent skyward. We hung out in this special spot, talked about cliff jumping and I told Wes about the SPOT in NH…then when more people came up the trail we decided to bounce and let them enjoy it. The rest of the evening was fairly low key…got some fish tacos at the “Be Happy” soda…then bounced over to the “Hot Rocks Café” where we ordered a pizza and a bucket of beers and watched some cheesy movies on a big screen (Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore…and then when Elektra came on we had to bounce). The rest of the town seemed kinda lame that night, and we weren’t really into partying so we moseyed on back to Rocking J’s and grabbed a few rocking chairs and chatted and told travel stories for a couple of hours before crashing early…no problems sleeping in the hostel bunk.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Monday...Guanacaste Day...back to SJ

Our last day from a long weekend, that felt more like a vacation then any weekend trip I have done so far in Costa Rica. Breakfast again at that delicious little soda – I got a crepe and huge plate of fresh fruit this morning. Then we headed back to Rocking J’s, spent some more time in hammock zen, and then I went on a walk taking some pics, and convinced Wes to come out to the cliff again so I could score some pics from up there as well (see below). Then walked back into town for a lazy stroll on the way to the bus to peruse the tourist wares (nice but WAAAAAY overpriced), and grab a quick lunch before catching the 4 pm bus back to San Jose. All the lunch places were closed so I ran to the jerk chicken place and had the lady whip me up 2 chicken tacos to go and a fresh watermelon batido…and I ran back to the bus and was the last one to get on before the driver left 12 minutes early…I’m sure some people got left behind...poor schmos. Thank goodness Wes scored me a seat, so I could sit and eat my lunch while everyone drooled watching me chow down. The bus ride home was on the ipod…just tired but relaxed. Got back to San Jose, taxi to Maximos, laundry, a couple of ham n egg n cheezers and a chapter in my book and I was passed out, happy, in my bed.


The only way to travel


Our Cabina at La Costa de Papito


Candy Land boardgame brought to life as these round colorful stepping stones defined pathways around the Bungalows


Rocking J's Hostel...hammocks, tents and cabinas


Path at the top of the cliff, watch your step


The rocks at the bottom of the cliff, and the coastline back towards Puerto Viejo


Playa Cocholes from the top of the cliff


sorry chimpy...this guy is staking claim to your nickname, and his climbing skillz give him an edge


Unfortunatly there was no complimentary dune buggy rental with our $7 hostel fee :o(


We biked 25 km one day from Puerto Viejo down to Manzanillo, stopping at little beaches along the way, and feeling like 15 year old kids as we raced up and down hills


Rory McMoil photographer extroidinair


Fresh out the water after a little body surfing


Late afternoon sky by the beach at Punta Uva


Wes - chilling on top of a cliff between Puerto Viejo and Playa Cocochles...look at those big rollers in the background


Salsa Brava - the "most famous surf wave in Central America"...unfortunately wally is behind the camera and not out on the wave.


Enjoying some Hammock Zen

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Sunday - Tennis and Chicken Parm

Ahhhhhhh my first day to sleep in…so nice…long, lazy morning, reading my book and drinking coffee in the courtyard…when Maximo appeared and challenged me to a game of tennis. While not my strongest sport, I am more then a duffer out on the tennis court, and with my dad being a tennis fanatic I have improved a lot the past few years playing with him (and the occassional game with henhouse) and have even started enjoying it. So I said sure, lets play. Maximo made a few calls and was able to secure us a court at the local swim/tennis/golf club that his brother belongs to. So around 11 am we headed over there – absolutely gorgeous facilities, felt like I was back a Cedardale where I spent most of my summers as a kid on the swim team. After a quick stretch and some warm-ups we started playing for real. Now if any of you know me when it comes to sports, you know I am ultra competitive…I wanna win, whether it is tennis, hoops, soccer, running, swimming, pingpong, texas holdem or monopoly…if you challenge me I will try and whomp you…and have fun doing it :o). So here I am playing with my host father, a peruvian, transplanted in costa rica, a heavy smoker, but a guy who is obviously an athlete and who was probably an amazing athlete in his youth…and who is just as competitive as me. Plus he plays a style that henry would describe as “a dinker”…he hits all these soft balls, with a lot of spin, and never really takes any chances, he just always gets the ball back (plus like my dad he plays twice a week and has been doing so for years)…I on the other hand haven’t played in a couple of months, never play regularly, and love to be aggressive and hit the ball hard with a lot of topspin for winners…I just can’t serve…never really could…and because of this whenever I play with my dad we always play rallies and stuff, but never full games cause I can’t serve. So anyway – to make a long story short – you combine all the above factors and you get a lot of unforced errors from wally, a lot of double faults from wally and a few winners here and there…but the ultimate result is a 6-0, 6-0 beatdown…I did not make my father proud :o(…but after the game Maximo spoke with a guy and a girl on the court next to us and challenged them to a game of doubles. Now I don’t know if it just took me forever to warm up, but I was finally nailing all my serves and only double faulted twice in 3 sets after basically double faulting twice every game playing singles…plus cause they played a more conventional style of tennis I was finally able to get some rhythm and was waxing my groundstrokes…and to top it all off using the Go-Go Gadget Arms and my goalie reflexes I was playing a great game at the net…Maximo and I won the first 2 sets easily 6-2 and 6-2.…and he kept asking me why I wasn’t playing like this earlier. For the final set we switched teams and I had the opportunity to hand Maximo his first defeat of the day, and to mildly redeem myself for the earlier drubbing. I stepped up to another level and closed out the hardfought set on my serve 6-4, just as it started raining. Made my father proud :o)..and ended up 3-2 for the day

That evening – after such an awesome meal the night before with the steaks and fries, I offered to cook dinner for the family…and Sol the youngest daughter offered to help me out. So I went out with Sol and Maximo to do the food-shopping for the dinner and my meals for the next couple weeks, and they grabbed the family groceries. Had a little trouble finding basil, but finally secured it in the third store we went to. Got home and got to work making chicken parmesan, with a homemade garlic basil tomato sauce from scratch; and a mini cherry tomato, fresh mozzarella and basil salad. It took us a good 90 minutes to make dinner, but it was a lot of fun, and it turned out pretty damn good. Snapped a couple of pics (see below) as we sat down to eat. Felt really good to be able to return the favor for some of the delicious meals which they have fed to me. Still got the skillz from cooking Sunday night dinners at Theta Chi….jeaaaah


Chicken Parm, Tomato Basil Garlic Sauce made from scratch, Garlic Bread, and a Fresh Mozarella, cherry tomato, basil and olive oil salad...and of course accompanied by a stein of Pilsen


Wally, Maximo, Rebecka and Sol sitting down to a good old Italian DinDin

Monday, July 18, 2005

Saturday - POAS Volcano with Carlos

Despite the weather reports which indicated that it would be cloudy, rainy and thunderstorms on and off all weekend; I still got up early on Saturday morning (7am); and found that it was a gorgeous morning – and so my plans were a go. I called a Tico friend Carlos (who I met through Maximo as he is the youth relations representative for Maximo’s Church.) and we made plans to meet up at the Bus Station in Alahuela, maybe 15 minutes from Maximo’s house. Unfortunately our communication got garbled, as I thought Carlos was going to meet me there and we would catch the bus to POAS together, but Carlos thought he was going to catch the bus to POAS in San Jose and meet me when it stopped for 10 minutes in Alahuela. Sooooo, I got to Alahuela, and walked all around the bus station and no sign of Carlos. So I decided to call him on his cell phone and he told me he was sitting on the bus and it was about to leave in 2 minutes…this brought me to a panic “where is the bus, I can’t see it, where am I supposed to be, I can’t miss it!!!” Then Carlos says, “the bus is in San Jose…and it will be in Alahuela in 30 minutes”. Ahhhhhhh, exhale. “OK, So I will grab a coffee, and find some lunch that I can take with me and I’ll see you in ½ an hour”, I tell him. So I walk around the few blocks around the bus station, sit down and have a cup of coffee, eat a banana from a street vendor and buy two apples for later. Then I duck my head in a bunch of different bakeries until I finally find one that has what I want and looks delicious. I get two spicy chicken empanadas and a ham and cheese croissant all packed up for me to take for lunch and then I head back outside to wait for the bus. Still no sign of the bus, and I begin to wonder if I am waiting at the right location. So I get up and wander around as there are 3 blocks all in a row where buses are arriving and leaving. I begin asking people – and eventually I find out that the bus from San Jose to Alahuela to POAS just left 5 minutes ago. Quite standard. So I commandeer a taxi, and tell him to step on it and see if we can catch the bus on it’s way up towards POAS (which I will now tell you is a Volcano :o) So my taxi driver, a young cat named Oscar, and I head up towards POAS national parque – gaining elevation almost as fast as we are gaining velocity. Oscar speaks no English, so this gives me the chance to bust out some more espanol – which I feel really comfortable doing with Taxi drivers (probably because they are “single serving friends” (see FightClub airplane scene) who you meet and chat with for 30 minutes and then never see again in your life). Despite his best Mario Andretti impression, we are unable to catch up to the bus as we wind through the fields of strawberries, coffee and retail flowers (which are shipped all over the world) that adorn the flanks of POAS and grow incredibly well in the fertile volcanic soil. As we pull into the line for entrance to the Parque, I see Carlos getting out of the bus to pay for his entrance ticket. I hop out of the cab, and run up and greet him, he though I had ditched him; but after hearing my story he just laughed and said “cmon, lets go”.

So I paid Oscar handsomely for the ride, and his effort to catch the bus; and paid for my entrance ticket into the Parque and we were on our way. Our first hike was up to the edge of the 2nd largest volcanic crater in the world. It was engulfed in clouds when we got there – as it is at an elevation of 8,870 feet.

Here is a little ditty about the volcano: Poas is a stratovolcano with several eroded calderas, cones, and two crater lakes at or near its summit. Poas has erupted at least 39 times since 1828 and is in state of nearly continuous mild activity. Most of the eruptions are phreatic, caused by the interaction of lava and the water in the crater lake. Explosions vary in strength. Some explosions eject material about 1,500 feet (500 m) above the lake. This photo, taken on May 24, 1992, shows one of the craters at the summit. Note the steam rising from the active crater lake. The lake (and steam) is very acidic, with a pH less than one. Temperatures as high as 185 F (85 C) have been measured at the crater lake.

The site also has some pics that were taken on days with better photography conditions then when I was there, but to be on the lip of an active volcano was amazing in and of itself. After the clouds returned after a couple of minutes we set off on another trail, towards a second crater – that has been extinct for a long time, and has been filled with a fresh, rainwater lake; and surrounded with a high-altitude forest. We stopped here to chill, as the sun was out, and the lake was a relaxing spot. Carlos introduced me to these Gringos he met on the bus, and one of the girls was from Boston – just finished college at Brandeis…crazy how many beantowners I have bumped into down here. After a while we went to explore the third trail, which wound up and down the slope of the volcano, and provided views of different types of trees, plantlife, vines, epiphytes (plants that grow on tree branches), humming birds etc. It was a nice hike, though Carlos is a little out of shape and we had to stop to let him catch is breath a few times. We returned to the crater a final time before we had to leave – and saw these tiny green tinted squirrels running around – I read somewhere that this is the only place on earth that this particular species exists – cause it has evolved differently living at altitude and in the sulphur fog that the crater creates. Got lucky one more time and saw the crater lake again, just as it started to rain. So we headed back towards the buses and grabbed a nice hot coffee at the snackbar before the bus ride. On the ride home, we stopped at a little street side fruit stand and I got some strawberries (supposed to be the “best in Costa Rica” – and they did not disappoint). And in 2 hours I was hopping off the bus, saying goodbuys to the gringos and carlos, and headed off to the Chino to buy some vanilla ice cream to eat these strawberries with. :o)

Maximo had a surprise Saturday night – as this was the first night that I have been home on the weekends. He had picked up some super high quality steaks, and been marinating them all day…and Rebecka had made some twice fried French fries from scratch, and a salad with diced tomatoes topped off the feast. We were joined by Maximo’s mother and sister, who had just returned from a trip back to their homeland of Peru. This was Maximo’s favorite meal – and I can see why – it was the best meal I had eaten in my 6 weeks here in Costa Rica. Everything was delicious. In an effort to get caught up on my sleep – I laid low for the rest of the night…reading my new book Quicksilver part of a 3 book series called the Baroque Cycle – by Neal Stephenson (highly addictive – like all his books…see SnowCrash and Cryptonomican). Ended up turning out the lights around 10 pm and fell asleep to the sound of the rain on the metal roof above my head.


Sulphuric Acid crater lake emerging from the fog - POAS Volcano


crazy vinelike tree branches with epiphytes


epiphyte - a plant that grows on a tree (not a parasite)


Carlos and Wally taking a break on the trail


Wally and Carlos at the extinct crater lake - POAS


close up of the sulphuric acid crater lake


Wally at the crater - sulphuric acid lake in the background


The lower crater - sulphuric acid lake - on a beautiful sunny day


View of both Craters - the upper on eis extinct and the bottom one still active

"I'm Batman"


Friday night after work was supposed to be a big party night, go out dancing at the clubs and all that…BUT…it was pouring rain from 3 pm on, just making everyone depressed and miserable. So the party night fell through, and turned into a low key movie night. I headed over to Wes’s apartment and Diana picked us up in her pickup truck shortly thereafter. We drove up to Escazu, a neighborhood of San Jose that has a lot of malls, clubs, restaurants etc. My first time being in a mall in Costa Rica and it felt like I was pulled out of “Tico Time” and thrust into the late 90’s mallrat scene…pretty amusing. Anyway – we went and saw “Batman Begins”…which was exactly what I needed…a no thinking, piece of Hollywood eye-candy...and thank goodness it wasn't overdubbed in Spanish...just spanish subtitles. I really liked the intro to it all, giving us the background on Bruce Wayne, and his parents deaths, and the ninja training in the Himalayas…and of course Morgan Freeman had the juicy role as Bruce Waynes technoexpert – showering him with the Batmobile, and the Batman armor and wings among other things. All in all it was a better movie then I expected, and I hope they continue along the same path when the make the next one…cause what would Hollywood be without a sequel?

Thursday, July 14, 2005


Costa Rica vs USA - Gold Cup Soccer Clash!


Not quite the Brazillian female soccer fans...but not too shabby :o)

Copa del Oro - Gold Cup Soccer

So on Tuesday night the US National Soccer team faced the Costa Rican National Soccer team in good old Boston, Mass…well Foxboro…but lets not split hairs. The Gold Cup pitted the top two teams in Group B – each of them 2 – 0 and already advancing to the Quarterfinals, against each other…and that also meant there was a rivalry in the Cisernos household. With the entire family, and a few select friends boisterously cheering on the “Ticos”, there was one boorish American rooting for the other side. That’s right, I watched the match and talked some light trash with a group of approximately 8 Costa Ricans. The game was pretty even, both sides electing to start their young guns instead of the big dawgs, and the first half was back and forth – the Ticos dominating from the outset and the Americans settling down and taking over in the later minutes of the half. Nevertheless it ended up 0 – 0 at the half. At which point dinner was served and I was told to enjoy the poison which was sprinkled on my chicken. The second half got more competitive as both coaches elected to sub in their stars to try and get the victory and the #1 seed. The game also got more physical as the intensity mounted, and the clock ticked down. The atmosphere at home coincided with the game intensity, and Maximo kept telling me…”here is the first of 3 goals this half”…whenever Costa Rica made a run. As the final minutes ticked down comments were made that the referee (who was Mexican) must really need a green card the way all the calls were going for the US. And everyone started jumping up and down when it looked like the Ticos were going to be awarded a penalty kick; but it turned out to be a dive and he was awarded a yellow card instead. A few nice saves were made by both goalies in the final minutes and the hard fought game ended the way it began, in a 0 – 0 stalemate. We shook hands and I hoped that things could return to normal…and I complemented Maximo’s wife Rebecka on the chicken – and she said I hope you still like it tomorrow after the poison kicks in. With that I put on the running shoes and headed out to hit the pavement and use up some of that energy as well as allow things to cool off a bit in the house. All in all it was a fun, highly spirited night watching some pretty decent soccer.

Monday, July 11, 2005


Crossing the Puente de la Amistad de Taiw�n headed to Nicoya the start of the weekend hanging with Benjamin

Nicoya with Benjamin

With a line about “Tico Time” as his excuse, my boy Benjamin rolled up in the green Nissan Sentra 2 hours late for picking me up in front of Hospital Mexico in SJ. It’s all good though, at least he showed. I climbed in shotgun, said hello to his “host mom” who he was driving cause she doesn’t, and her friend…and we were on our way to Nicoya. The ride was fairly uneventful, Ben and I caught up on stories, we spoke some politics with the host mom…stopped for lunch and some snacks…crossed over the Puente de la Amistad de Taiwán, a bridge that crosses Nicoya Gulf and connects the mainland to the Guanacaste penninsula…and got to Nicoya around 6:30, just after sunset. We rolled into Ben’s place he was staying for 6 weeks to do his summer research (he has a little in-law apartment in the back of his host mom’s house). After getting the extra mattress from the house and washing the road dirt off our faces, we walked into town for some supplies. We stocked up on sandwich supplies and snacks for our day hiking and spelunking (man I love that word) on Saturday, and scored a bottle of Flor de Cana – a 7 year old Nicaraguan dark rum to mix a few cocktails…(there is a good chance my duty free allotment will allow for a bottle or two to make it’s way back stateside for and end of summer BBQ ;o) SO we headed back to the pad, and worked on the rum while having a slow, lazy start to the evening after spending the afternoon in the car. By the time ½ the bottle was in our bellies it was almost 10 and we were headed out for Chinese food. The local Chinese food joint was awesome…clean, fresh and delicious. So we grubbed and watched some of the soccer games – the US Invitational Gold Cup. After dinner we migrated to the local bar and found a dude playing acoustic guitar and singing songs…but after a couple rounds and some chatting with the local Tico’s last call came early – 11:30…so we accepted an invitation to head down the street a few blocks to the local nightclub. The place was bumping, some pretty good mix of reggae and raggaeton (a bastardized version of hiphop and reggae…think shaggy only worse)…so we continued meeting new characters, as well as a few of the friends Benjamin had already made (he’s been there 3 weeks already)…and before we knew it, it was 3 am and we were being ushered out the door. A pirata taxi ride and we were back at Ben’s place; where he somehow convinced me to have an un-necessary Surpe’ (or last drink of the night…think a saying like “one for the road”)…hit the mattress at 3:30 and was out like a light.

Spelunking with a French Miner at Barra Honda

It was nice to wake up Saturday morning to an already prepared breakfast and coffee…helped take the sting outta opening those eyelids after just 5 hours of shuteye. A tall bottle of water, a quick shower, some rice and beans, with queso in sourcream and a tortilla…and two cups of coffee and we were out the door as the taxi was honking. The ride to Barra-Honda National Parque was a quick 20 minutes; but the Parque itself was millenniums away from Nicoya. We had a reservation which we were 20 minutes late for, but this is “Tico Time” so it was no problem. We paid our park fee, and our guide fee and were on our way hiking up the mountain to the underground caverns. The hike up the mountain was a little strenuous given our condition, but after we sweated out the rum it was no problem. We saw tons of different types of butterflies, lizards, trees covered in hanging vines, and huge plants relatives of aloe…and of course the ubiquitous mosquitoes. Howler Monkeys yelled at us, but did not reveal themselves until our walk down in the afternoon. We took a wrong turn and ended up walking on a trail that hadn’t been used in a while…and it only took us a few spiderwebs across the path with big, scary looking whompers chilling in the center of em, to realize we needed to turn around. As we headed back down to the fork where we took the wrong turn we realized a group of 7 or 8 Danish girls and 1 guy had passed us on the trail up to the cave…so we hustled a little and got lucky that their guide stopped to point something out to them…and we were able to overtake them and get to the cave first, so we didn’t have to wait for them to go and come back before us. At the cave we donned hardhats, headlamps and a rockclimbing harness (to be belayed as a safety mechanism) as we climbed down this device of 7 or 8 ladders jerry-rigged together down this 10 foot wide hole in the earth. At some point you look down and can’t see the bottom and it feels like the ladders go on forever into the blackness…fortunately they are only 70 meters (approx 220 feet) long. As your first foot touches down on the cave floor our guide reaches out and introduces himself, and helps you get out of the harness. They pull the rope back up to the top and the next person prepares for their descent. I scored a couple of pics of Ben on his way down as I waited at the bottom and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Looking back up, it appears as though there is just a tiny window to the outside where you can see some tree branches and a little blue sky. The floor of the cave is wet, and mud trucked in from shoes on your hike to the cave covers all the rocks making the floor slippery and footing treacherous. We climbed down into the first huge cathedral like dome, that still had some sunlight entering from the hole in the top. The limestone walls were carved in flowing patterns like mud at the bottom of the river, or a retreating hightide leaving designs in the beach sand. We climbed downward towards our first change of venue, hopping on rocks and trying not to slip. At the bottom of the first cavern a small archway opened into the second, smaller catherdral like dome, and this is where the stalagtites and stalagmites began popping up…with a few that had already connected and formed single pillars. There was one scene which looks like a family, a mother holding a baby, with a father behind her to the left and a little doggy at their feet…kinda eerie. Throughout the cave at regular intervals are these things hanging on the wall that look like “pipe bombs” in white PVP piping. The guide tells us that they are test kits for a fungus that produces spores poisonous to humans, and have been known to form on the bat guaro the covers certain spots below where the bats nest. I didn’t know whether to be reassured, or more nervous. Anway – we passed the “family” and headed down another ladder to the third level which was pitch black, and much smaller. The guide pointed out the fossilized coral line which ringed the cave wall proving that the cave was underwater millions of years ago; and there was also a fossilized conch shell that appeared to be sitting on a pedestal, as it was on the top of a stalagmite. He also showed us a formation which looks like a huge old church organ (pic of the guide), where perfectly straight columns were carved out of the walls from floor to ceiling. This is where the real spelunking begins (see some of the photos) we twisted and contorted ourselves to slide through a wall into the final chamber. The final chamber had a surprisingly high ceiling and the guide told us we were over 100 meters (375 feet) underground. As we reached the extreme far wall of the cavern, and stopped in a tiny little rotunda, the guide told us to turn off our lights. Silence. Occassional drips of water. I opened and closed my eyes – seeing the same shade of black nothingness. I put my hand inches from my face and couldn’t see it. As my consciousness expanded I felt as if the walls of the cave were closing in, and getting smaller and smaller…my first real experience of claustrophobia. I took a deep breath of the dank, moisture laden air and the guide cracked a joke, breaking the spell. After a few more comments we turned the lights back on, thankful that they still worked, and began our ascent out. It took a good 30 minutes to return to the ladder, and we put on the harnesses to climb back out as the last of the Danes were climbing down. The climb back up was a lot more strenuous then the climb down, partly because you know how far you have to go, and you can see your destination. And there is no way to keep a smile off your face as you ascend over the lip of the mouth of the cave and return to the world of light. What an amazing experience, but I am glad that it was over when we finished. Over an hour underground was more then enough for me. Our guide took us on a short trail along the edge of the mountains that lead to a lookout platform with a roof for shade, where we settled down and had our lunch. A couple of ham n cheese sandwiches, some trail mix and an orange later we were refreshed and ready to go. The view was phenomenal and we hung out for a while digesting and appreciating it…you could see all of the cattle ranches dotting the valley below, and all the way out to the bay in the distance in one direction and the mountain ranges in the other. On the way back down we stopped to take closer looks at some of the plants and spiders, and other insects we spotted along the way. The howler monkeys smelled us coming and migrated from their hangout tree over closer to the trail so they could yell at us, but not close enough to toss their you-know-what. Tired, mud-covered and sweaty we finally reached the ranger station again and happily paid for two ice cold cokes – which seemed like the best drink I have ever had. We waited patiently as our taxi was supposed to return in 15 minutes at 4 pm to pick us up…and we waited patiently as a young girl used the only pay phone available and talked for an hour…and we finally tried calling the taxi when she got off, but he didn’t answer…so we finally ended up catching a ride home with one of the guides friends at 6:30…two and ½ hours after we were supposed to be picked up….ahhhh….”Tico Time”.

After showering up at Ben’s house we were immediately picked up by the first taxi who has ever arrived early. We ran a few small errands and then headed the 35 km out to the coast to a tiny little beach town called Samara. Ben’s Tico friend “Charlie” from Nicoya had recommended this little cabina for $15 a night per person, and we met him there and he helped us get the last room available. Ditched our stuff and met Charlie and his wife for dinner…had this really interesting plate of spaghetti with shrimp in an avocado sauce…delicious. After dinner we thanked Charlie for all his help, and headed back to the room to finish off the bottle of rum, listen to a little music (on blast from my ipod headphones…wish I had one of the newer ipod versions with the travel speakers…those would be clutch…hinthint Xmas present from the fogies ;o); and generally rested before heading out for the night. When the bottle of rum was “terminado” we motivated and hit the town. There were two bars/clubs, located right on the beach…the first was a dance club with raggaeton and some bad hiphop; and the second was a reggae bar with pool and foosball tables…guess where we spent the night. Had a blast meeting some of the locals, lots of cute tico girls running around, played some foosball and took beers out onto the beach to sit and chill and look at the stars and listen to the waves. Somehow it ended up being 4:30 in the morning when we finally migrated back to the cabinas and the comfort of a nice bed.

Another night of little sleep – 5 more hours – and we were up and walking along the beach and hitting a local soda, where we sat in the shade of a cashew tree, and had a great view of the beach and ocean while we drank coffee and water and waited for our breakfast. After breakfast we packed up our gear, and left it in Charlies’ room (sorry no pictures of Samara cause I left the camera in my bag) and headed to the beach. After a swim and some body surfing we walked the length of the 5 km crescent shaped beach, to get a little sun, walk off a little of the rum n beers and check out the cuties in bikinis :o) The rest of the afternoon was spent lying in the shade of a palm tree in a hammock between swims in the ocean. Nice, quiet, relaxing…a perfect culmination to a beautiful, action packed weekend…except the weekend wasn’t fully over yet. We hopped a cab back to Nicoya with Charlie and his wife, and I got dropped off at the bus station, where the last bus to San Jose left at 5:20 and was standing room only. With no other alternatives I got on, slid into the first seat right behind the driver, paid my fare and was given a lecture in Spanish about how I would have to get up and stand if anyone else got on with a ticket. So the first stop the bus makes and this young kid gets on and sits next to me…the last open seat on the bus…and the next stop a guy gets on with a ticket, but luckily for me, he booted the kid and sat down next to me. I was exhausted, so after watching the sunset over the mountains, I put on the headphones and drifted in and out of consciousness – trying to sleep for the 5 hour trip – but every stop (and this driver stopped EVERYWHERE) necessitated the lights being turned on…meaning my sleep was fitful at best. Nevertheless I was able to get the bus to stop at Hospital Mexico and walk home avoiding having to pay for a cab; and I rolled in the door at 10:30…tired but happy. A load of laundry and some fresh pineapple and mango from maximo and I hit the mattress with a smile on my face and slept like I was at the bottom of the cave enveloped in the calm, cool darkness.


hiking up to the cave in Barra Honda National Park


Our first glimpse of the cave...kind of menacing and that ladder looks a little rickity...


Ben climbing down the ladder...not at the bottom yet


The first cathedral ceiling


Ben heading through the archway that connects the first and second cathedral ceilings


Shot of the second cathedral ceiling


The limestone formation of the "familia"...lady is in the middle holding the baby, the man is behind her to the left, with a little dog at his feet (don't know if you can see it in 2-D, and it's hard to take pics in the pitch black ;o)


Our guide in front of the cathedral organ formations in the limestone


Benjamin looking like a french miner - his own words :o)...before trying to squueze through the tight section on our way back up to freedom


pointing to the tiny slot we somehow managed to squeeze through into the last chamber


contortionist spelunking


Ben with our guide - who looks like he is about to impale himself on the huge stagmite just above his hat


Spelunking wally...jeaaah


View from the bottom of the ladder


Benjamin climbing out of the cave after being 100 meters underground for over an hour


Digesting after lunch...not a bad spot to chill


Lunch with a view - see the Gulf of Nicoya with the island in it off in the distance


little green lizard


Costa Rican grasshopper - our guide tried to put this on my hand, I was having none of it...about the side of the palm of your hand