Tortuguero (Hugh)

Today we get an opportunity to travel in one of the coaches driven by crazy men who overtake speeding motorists on blind corners. In addition, this guy has some kind of disability in that he can only brake using short intermittent and sharp jerks of his right leg. The kids watch “Star Wars IV”, which I previously knew as “Star Wars”. Our Nintendo DSs remain in the back pockets of our hire car, now returned. Hopefully the car cleaners have kids.

Our guide on the bus is a Caribbean called Henry with a really dubious sense of humour, broadcast throughout the bus with a powerful microphone. I put earplugs in ostentatiously whenever he starts on a new topic but this does not throw him off balance at all. In our tour bus, we are accompanied by Chileans, a French/American family, a large group of humourless Belges, some Dutch, a gay couple from Florida (who simply lurve the children) and an English couple (the first Brits we have met on this trip). I think the Americans enjoyed us Brits introducing ourselves. It went like this – “Hello, where are you from?” [Sally]. “Surrey” [Sarah]. “I said where are you from?” [Sally]. “Surrey” [Sarah]. Repeat ad libid.

The second leg of the journey is more fun; we are in a boat this time journeying into the Tortuguero National Park. On the way in, we see red spider monkeys, howlers, spoonbills,
iguanas,
caimans and birds of all sorts of lizards.There are also manatees here but these favour the grazing at the bottom of the canal rather than swinging through the trees, so we do not see any. I cannot hear the word “manatees” without recalling a late night conversation with Mel Holland and Martin Large at a Salmons’ dinner party long ago, when both Martin and I misheard as “huge manatees”, Mel telling us that she was studying Humanities. A long and confusing exchange followed, not helped by high background noise.

I have good form on this kind of thing. A recent conversation witnessed by Sarah was my discussion with the posada manager in Los Roques (imagine a strong Spanish accent) during which he was explaining that he would come with me with a baggage trolley to do ‘the Chicane’ at Gran Roque airport. I then asked somewhat quizzically and using appropriate swerving hand gestures, why we would have to run a Chicane between the posada and the airport, a very straight forward five minute walk, Sarah collapsed in giggles and refused to engage any further. Maybe that bit of my brain is missing. It took me years to understand the “where’s the soap?” joke.

Cracking lodge this (Mawamba). Quite basic, positioned on a spit of land between the Tortuguero Canal and the Caribbean Sea. There is swell here on the beach, but not really surfable and no hire shops. There are large signs everywhere saying “no swimming”, and there are certainly strong rip currents, but I haven’t drowned yet. Perhaps there are sharks, I don’t know.


Here at the hotel we’ve seen a snake, lots of frogs (some of which have been persecuted by the kids), and the usual gamut of giant insects. Sitting outside our rooms in the dark, we have been used as climbing frames by various spiders and crickets.
This is a little unnerving, but the locals seem to survive so we have been taking the view that we will too.

9th – 16 July The Bermuda triangle week (Sarah)

Ok so no internet in Monte Verde and Arenal. Not surprising given that a substantial proportion of the population still appear to use the horse as their main form of transport. What we got up to - a brief summary:

Thurs 9th

Leave Jaco having caught the surf one last time and inadvertently all burnt properly in the sun having eschewed suncream as we are now locals. Visit Walter’s Surf Shack to see what having a Costa Rican surfing dad would be like (Special ‘Walter’s Surf Shack’ T-Shirt and photos to follow dad). Call at surf beach densely populated by claw waving crabs. Wave back.

Push onward on extremely wiggly road along coast which suddenly viers away from the sea, swiftly loses tarmac and becomes extremely wiggly steep and bumpy road.
Go up and up and up through clouds, past cowboys, yukka plants and coffee plantations to Monte Verde. The views are amazing and the scenery fabuluous. A mad mad place in the middle of mad mad nowhere. This is a mecca for bird watchers the guide book tells us. Not once our kids arrive then.

Fri 10th

Early off to Monte Verde Aventure Adrenalin place, morning stroll through hanging walkway jungley humming bird trail brings humming birds but little else. I spot a female Resplendent Questal but the females lack the resplendent tail which apparently is the point. She was jolly pretty though in a tailess sort of way.

Fab zip wires though, lots of speed, lots of length 510m the longest and not too much braking so several rides ending in human tourist / crash barrier entanglements. Hugh and the girls partake of the ‘Tarzan swing’ a 50 foot pendulum on a bungey cord. They of course think this is fabulous. Monty and I look on. Of course I know its only a matter of time before Monty joins them and I am left to spectate on my own for the rest of time. Mental note, take up knitting.

Not enough adrenalin for Goodfellow genes though, oh yes an afternoon’s canyoning ensues and guess what…. I get to be maniac-mum and go with the girls.

Why is it that the world over blokes cannot resist the opportunity, if given the chance, to drop a woman thirty or forty feet straight down on a rappel line. Yes and Hugh does have video evidence and yes I did make a very long silly girly wooping noise. Such a good role model… J and E didn’t woop at all, they have that gene thing going on I suppose.

Survived that day intact.

Sat 11th

Riding fun: Our first ever riding en famille is at El Rodeo (not sure about the name, makes me feel a bit anxious) with Kelvin our very accommodating guide and two very enthusiastic bouncing dogs. Hugh’s mission this holiday when on horseback seems to be to become ‘Zorro’ he tends to hair around the place somewhat out of control with one arm in the air and a big beaming grin. Quite cute actually. Anyway we all ride out western style for a couple of hours, the horses behave impeccably, the kids are still smiling at the end so all in all a positive outcome. Begin to wonder if we’re turning into the Waltons. Waltons on a sugar rush maybe.

Still more thrills – the Monte Verde WORLD OF INSECTS beckons. Not your usual
zoological experience, here the guy takes you in by yourselves to what is essentially an old aircraft hanger built into the side of the mountain. He doesn’t just point at the insects, giant cockroaches, tarantulas,
dung beetles, scorpions etc he only flipping grabs them, thrusts them in your direction and says things like ‘no poisonous’, ‘no dangerous’, ‘only biting a little bit’. Is this covered in our holiday insurance I wonder. Too bad, I turn round and Hugh is clutching some sort of scorpion. OMG.

Sun 12th

Hike trails around the Lodge and again don’t see very much wildlife. Funny that. There is now baking sunshine.

Leave Monte Verde in the late morning and drive down down through the cloud forest past the cowboys, back down to the farming lands. Lots of wee stops as usual and also usual suspicion that sat-nav lady has completely lost the plot.

Finally after very circumvented route arrive at what is supposed to be the most breathtaking volcano in Costa Rica to find…… a cloud.

All that and a few monkey sighting stops uses up the whole of daylight so we hunker down at hotel for the night.


Mon 13th

Early start – guided walk through the hanging bridges at lake Arenal Rain forest reserve. Our guide, this time a young guy called David again goes beyond the call of duty in teaching us Gringos about the fauna and flora. He shows us FOUR baby eye lash pit vipers within metres of the path, oh how reassuring to know that in our ignorance we would have marched straight past them. He shows us native injun type stuff like where bats have eaten away at the palms to make shelters, and Monty’s favourite, a nest of tiny Motmot chicks.

We have still more scheduled fun in the afternoon. A hike up some old lava flows would have been splendid if not for the dense cloud and sudden driving rain but hey, we had big sticks to bash each other with so everyone was happy.

Rain gone and on to the Hot Springs……….. now these hot babies were coooool. If I were to choose a party destination I think the hot springs at Arenal would be up there. You can sit in the steaming pools or under one of the hot waterfalls, supping a Marguerita or suchlike while listening to the sounds of the rainforest unwind around you. Maybe not quite so relaxing with three kids shouting ‘mummy mummy look I can pretend to be dead as they sink under the water with their eyes wide open…….but there did seem to be plenty of grown ups having grown up sort of fun, you know, conversations…..witty repartee…..parking chat.

Tues 14th

Our second ride and a huge one at that. Literally thirty gringos and cowboys on a sort of cowless cattle drive through the lowlands of Arenal to a rather spectacular waterfall. These Cowboy guides seemed to be real McCoy although a bit of showing off involved, lots of unnecessary galloping around over very short distances between gringos and shouting the Equivalent of ‘Arriba arriba’.

We didn’t have swimmers with us, communication issues I think, so we girls opted out of swimming in the shoals of what looked like trout at the bottom of the waterfall in just their pants but Monty and Zorro went for it. They both developed a new form of ‘pantless riding’ on the return journey. Bit of a risk to your manhood I would have thought but it seemed to work for them.

Again kids and horses were on great form, grins all round especially from Eliza’s horse. Zorro and I managed to charge about a bit, as did Mima on ‘Little Black’ her new favourite horse after Benji.

Back to hotel for pool action – you had to get there over a hanging bridge which added to the charm. Then supper at the most fantastic Steak house with panoramic views of the volcano and Arenal lake - truly spectacular now that they weren’t hiding behind clouds in the manner of a Dartmoor tor.

Weds 15th

Jeez you have to get up early in this continent – pick up at 6.50 today which means generally that there’s no chat, chanting or scrapping in the Goodfellow family for the first hour or so. This often gives the wrong impression to other uninitiated people who are picked up at the same time as us that our children are impeccably behaved.

Little do they know that the kids are still powering up for the day ahead. If they were worked by remote control this would be the equivalent of ‘standby’. Today’s victims are a lovely young couple from Texas, I cannot imagine when they got up at the crack of dawn they were thinking Gee I hope I’ll get to spend the rest of the day on an inflatable raft being asked incessant questions and engaged in constant conversation by a group of overly persistent British kids.

The raft trip threatens to be a disaster, for the first half an hour we spot only a butterfly which has landed on Eliza’s arm and now appears to be stuck there.
Alfonso the guide seems like a sweetheart but has such a thick accent that the kids give up asking questions as his answers although animated are virtually unintelligible, they revert to the beleagured Texans.

Things turn around magically as we spot all sorts of amazing wildlife at really close hand, the best being a six foot crocodile lazing on the bank. Monty who has refused to believe that there are crocs in the river thus far whilst we have all been threatening to throw him in, suddenly has very very wide eyes indeed. There are sloths, howlers, bats, emerald basilisks, iguanas etc etc.

At one point chaos ensues as Alfredo finds a poison dart frog in the undergrowth at the side of the river and brings it to the raft only for it to jump out of his hand and into the swirling water. Poison dart frogs do not shoot rapids, they are approximately two centimetres long and mostly seem to walk around at the bottom of trees.

Alfredo shouts ‘ My frooooog’ in a very plaintiff manner so we all abandon ship and search, initially to no avail, it is nowhere to be seen, the raft begins to float off…… the Texans hurl themselves back in…. then after time stands still for a few seconds Mima spots the tiny lifeless red and blue form shooting downstream at a rate of knots. Alfredo hurls himself into the water and emerges triumphant clutching his prize. The frog seems to shrug off its problems pretty much immediately and we even manage to have a celebratory photo shoot.


Later on as Hugh Eliza and I trail Spider monkeys and a Crested Guan (the most enormous flying emu like bird) through the forests by the hotel, the volcano begins to errupt and I mean reeeeeeally erupt. Hugh says something beautifully understated like ‘goodness me you can see the pyroclastic flow, lets go check if Monty and Mima are ok…’ and I go into full blockbuster apocalypse panic mode:

Streaking is the wrong word but running through the forest at full pelt imagining giant burning boulders ripping through the trees and the hotel buildings. Would we survive? Would we have time to get into the car before it is destroyed and drive at top speed, tyres squealing, away from the volcano with the ground cracking and shuddering beneath us? What about the noxious gases which the eruption would emit? At what point on the way back to our room would we succumb to the sulphurous fumes and be unable to even crawl to rescue the children from their plight?

Anyway, we got back to the hotel where the world and their pets had gathered on the terrace to have a beer and watch the eruption from the comfort of their deck chairs, Monty and Mima are still watching the Silver Surfer completely oblivious to the rest of the world, so I power down again and crack open an Imperial.


Thurs 16th

We’re due to leave Arenal today and return to San Jose for more early morning pick up fun on Friday. We decide to take a punt and hire horses directly from the hotel for a hack out before we leave.

This time its just us, six horses and a Costa Rican guy called Herman who has no English but who is just a complete dude. Its raining so he rides Western with a huge yellow poncho and a battered old hat pulled down over his ears. All you can see under his hat is his big wide grin. If Herman had a cigar and a revolver he could have been riding out with Paul Newman and Robert Redford.

Herman has utter confidence in the horses, i.e. that Monty’s regularly rides out with babes on its back. We start off cautiously but soon gain confidence and have an hour and a half of quite possibly the best riding I could imagine. Herman brings up the rear with Monty trotting both of them grinning like Cheshire cats. Zorro and I canter and gallop at the front only waiting for Herman, Monty and Herman’s directional hand signals and the girls canter at a beautifully lolloping pace in between. For once we are perfectly matched to our steeds i.e. mine is more forward going than Zorro’s so his horse follows mine which lends a little more control to the ride than usual, the girls horses are willing but steady and I don’t think Monty’s had a panic button at all.

Just brilliant.

Costa Rican horses don’t do apples by the way, we tried and I wouldn’t say that this lot get rewarded with a polo and a pat on the neck. I don’t think Costa Ricans are as sentimental about their steeds as us lot. Not to say that they are poorly looked after just that they are expected to do a job and do it properly, end of.

We leave Arenal having had just the most fantastic time and make it back to San Jose in time for the next adventure.