Tortuguero (Hugh)

We had a good time here, but only through conjuring up some good humour from time to time. One day, both Monty and Eliza were down with some minor ailment. A bit of sleep and both came good again, Eliza having thrown up the requisite number of times, once rather spectacularly, at lunch. Spaghetti – quite a display.



Mawamba lodge is not a bread and butter Goodfellow experience; set meal times and buffet bar food required us to queue, eat what we are given, and socialise with other people. But after some 3 weeks on our own, the necessity for social niceties came at a good time, and we enjoyed ourselves. The French/Americans were very good fun, and I had some educational chats with a very interesting Chilean gentleman. We tasked the children to find out mundane facts about various adults that we met (what’s your favourite animal that you have seen?; where do you come from?; what’s your name?; etc.) and they took to this game with some gusto. It has since proven difficult to turn this functionality off, however, and strangers are now being accosted willy-nilly, causing surprise and occasionally alarm.

The wildlife here is stunning, and we had some good safaris, both on foot and by boat. My favourite trip was a guided one that I took with Jemima in a double kayak.



With a guide, we were delivered by boat to the edge of Tortuguero lagoon, then kayaked on through a tiny canal into the depths of the forest.



Initially, I thought Jemima was going to tire of this quite quickly, but she got into it as we spotted more and more wildlife, then ultimately she asked if we could paddle all the way back to the hotel instead of taking the boat, which we did, munching manzanas de agua on the way. The highlight was sitting underneath a tree while a large troop of white-faced capuchin monkeys crossed the canal along a tree branch only feet above our heads.

One evening reinforced for the kids the lesson that things don’t always go their way, when we paid to go on a night-time tour to watch turtles laying eggs, and no turtles turned up that day. We spent a rather wet couple of hours in the dark sitting on an airstrip, while we waited for the turtle spotters to report positive sightings. When none turned up, we went back home again. By this time (10pm) all 3 kids had fallen asleep on the tarmac. Not a whole load of fun, but personally I was quite relieved not to have had to disturb the turtles in what I saw as a rather voyeuristic tourist experience. If the Costa Ricans are really concerned about saving the turtles, I think they should ban this activity and just let the turtles get on with it. Admittedly only 5 kms of the total 22kms nesting beaches are open to tourists, but those beaches are the least successful nesting sites by some distance, funnily enough. The Tortuguero town itself is 100% devoted, one way or another, to the tourist industry and I don’t think they’ve got this place quite right – the guides are a bit tired – they see people like us every day of the year, on a 2 day turn-around and you feel a bit like one tiny bit of meat in a sausage machine. When the time came to leave we were ready to go.

Thankfully we flew out this time, and so didn’t have to endure tourist buses and live commentaries on the 6 hour return trip. We were the only people on our plane, piloted by a rather racy young lady. Security precautions were amusingly lax. As the pilot was completing her final checks, a local rather lazily cycled past us down the runway. He was about halfway along the runway as we past him doing about 150 miles an hour, the wind from the propellers ruffling his hair as he pottered along.

Tortuguero (Monty & Eliza)

We holded some frogs. They were called red eyed tree frogs.



We went on a walk to hold the tree frogs and then we went for a little walk and we went in these kind of net houses and first we saw blue butterflies called the Morpho butterflies which are actually brown but because they use up all the light they look shiny blue on the front. Then there was another netty thing and we saw frogs in there. We saw blue jeans frogs, a yellow and black one, a red eyed tree frog and a yellow one.

We had breakfast and then we went on a boat trip to find wild animals and we saw some baby crocodiles and some birds and herons and howler monkeys and one spider monkey and we saw a few baby monkeys as well. And then we came back for lunch and then we went swimming and we held some baby frogs and I throwed a drop at it and an iguana jumped in and went swimming in our pool and then it did climb out the other side it did and I shouted there’s a lizard in the pool there’s a lizard in the pool. Jemima said it swam right past her on the bottom. She saw it she did.




Then we let some baby frogs go. We had to give names to the baby frogs and I called mine Fluffy and Spike.

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.

Arenal – “is there actually a volcano here?” (Hugh)

Arenal is another amazing place that Costa Rica offers within a few hours drive of anywhere else that you might have been previously. The journey here was predominantly (time-wise at least) conducted on mud tracks. We left mid-morning, initially running through, and ruining the start of, a massive (>2000 riders) 50km mountain bike race, the participants ranging from the occasional professional through granddads, kids, even punters on unicycles (from what I saw this was almost immediately regretted), but after leaving Santa Elena, we saw almost no one for many many miles. We were trusting our loyal satnav, but there were times when that trust began to run thin. By the time we made Ticaran, we were running seriously low on diesel. But Ticaran brought fuel salvation, along with some advice for the best local eatery at Plaza del Café 8 (12) kms further on.

It was a long old road around Arenal lake, but finally, the first monkey sighting (by Sarah). Far off in a tree, requiring us to park on a blind corner, but definitely a monkey. We don’t yet know what sort. [it was a howler]

It is getting late now, but finally spot a sign to the Arenal Lodge Observatory. Is this what we want? Doesn’t look like the pictures we have seen, so we move on. It seems there are a number of combinations of “Arenal”, “Lodge” and “Observatory” possible, but none of them ours (our itinerary says we require the “Arenal Observatory”). Getting close to La Fortuna now, and I cannot recall from an internet map which side of La Fortuna our place lies (before, after, sideways?). One option lies up yet another dirt track (9kms from the tarmac) and we are nervous about taking this; if we are wrong that’s at least a 45 minute diversion and it’s already getting dark. We know that the lodge is very close to the volcano, but said volcano is completely shrouded in cloud (is there actually a volcano here?), and we don’t know which flank our place sits on. We take the road anyway, and soon enough stop and ask some guys on the side of the road (is there actually a volcano here?), show them a picture, and we are enthusiastically ensured that we are on the correct path.

Our persistence is soon rewarded by our second monkey sighting, this time a whole troop of howler monkeys by the side of the road, howling away like billy-o. We have since learnt that they howl in the morning, at dusk, and when it starts to rain. And the rest of the time. Very cool. The troop then stayed in the same point for a few days, so we have reliably seen them again and again every day.

We learn over the course of the next few days that sloths don’t move about much either, staying in the same tree for up to two weeks before coming down briefly for a dump, then going up a new tree. At one stage we are told reliably of the whereabouts of a suitable sloth (between dumps) in a tree by the side of the road, and are driven past the spot a couple of times by taxi drivers; however, at those times we were not able to stop. Other tourists are gathered round, so we know where the beast is. Finally, we drive past under our own steam and are able stop. Unfortunately, it seems to be that this is the moment that said sloth is having its bi-weekly ablution, so we must wait for another chance to see sloths.

That chance comes a few days later during our slow river raft (no rapids here). We see a pair of 3-toed-sloths from below mucking about (slowly) in a Warooma tree. All adults are amazed but the kids focus instead on some fish they spot zooming around in the water. Their attention is re-focussed with some difficulty; they don’t realise that this is unlikely to happen again.

The lodge observatory Arenal is in an amazing place, only just over a mile from the volcano summit. Arenal itself is a textbook volcano, completely conical.
When we arrive, the top of the hill is shrouded in cloud (this scenario continues for most of the time that we are here; “is there actually a volcano here?”) but we can see red lava as night falls, and large red hot rocks tumbling down towards the chasm that separates the hotel from danger. Monty thinks that this is cool. Since 1968, when the current period of activity commenced, Arenal has grown 750 feet in height. We eventually see the volcano in its full glory, finally free of clouds on day 4 and it is majestic indeed, seeming to get steeper nearer the top. We are apparently fortunate to see this – it is sheathed in cloud 60% of the time, and more so during the “rainy” season (now).
Hardly reassuringly, when we ask, that the last “important” eruption was only 4 days ago. The hotel information comes with emergency procedures – gather here, panic there etc.. Indeed, on our fourth afternoon, all hell breaks loose while Eliza, Sarah and I are pursuing a troop of spider monkeys from below on a trail not far from the hotel while Jemima and Monty chill out in front of “The Fantastic Four – Rise of the Silver Surfer” following an early morning and hard day’s rafting. Suddenly, noise like thunder, and we see pyroclastic flows like the photos of Mount Helena erupting, through the trees. It seems that misfortune has crossed our path once more - the monkeys are immediately forgotten, and we dash back to rescue Mima and Monty expecting the panic sirens to go off any moment. But back at the Observatory, the volcano’s fireworks have merely encouraged everyone resident to gather on the observation deck with bottles of beer, so we relax and watch the show. The Fantastic Four surf on, Jemima and Monty oblivious.

Sarah has extracted Eliza’s stitches with my Swiss Army knife scissors. The threads themselves are already stuck into Eliza’s scrapbook – important records of a Cuban doctor’s great skill and care taken to avoid scarring. The scar should be invisible – it lies on the eyebrow.
We have evaded danger here at Arenal so far, although only just. The most recent lucky escape was when we were waiting for our volcano tour and Mima asked me whether she could climb a tree in the centre of the car park. I want to check for snakes, and do so, finding no snakes in my sweep, so am about to approve the exercise when I spot a few slow moving insects underneath the branch. Closer inspection reveals hundreds of these things, wasps creeping slowly around a disguised nest. Clambering about so close to this next would have been bad. A blanket ban on tree climbing has now been introduced.


We go horseriding again, to the very impressive “La Fortuna” waterfall this time. Monty and I go swimming in the river, Monty in his pants and me in my trousers which raises a few eyebrows but elicits cries of “Pura Vida!” from the locals.
I am getting quite keen on the Western style horseriding, which suits the fact that no one has ever taught me to ride properly. With Western style, you just point and squirt – a bit like riding polo ponies I expect. Quite extraordinary how this horsetrekking thing works over here though – at the beginning before the ride began there were 26 punters (including about 10 kids) sitting on horses all crammed within a very small yard. No kicking, no reering, no biting, no ‘agro at all in fact. Horses all well behaved too. Would never work in England, all the horses would be terribly behaved, despite being better “schooled”. But not at the cost of the horses’ spirit – once we got out in the open fields, we all had the opportunity to ride however we liked. Mima was completely in her element, and without input from her parents left some way behind took it upon herself to canter across a long field up at the front and has talked about nothing else since. Eliza also pretty self-sufficient and things are looking promising for our week on a dude ranch in Jackson 5 weeks’ hence.


We have also gone to hot springs (too hot for me), been on volcano tours (not dangerous enough for my liking), and the kids have scared hotel staff and residents with their exploits in the hotel pool. Drove a few kms to a local steak house two nights in a row, where the food was good, the views of the (int)erupting [Monty] volcano were tremendous, and the kids took turns driving us home (OK, as Eliza described, admittedly I was “pedalling”).

Slow river rafting was unexpectedly most rewarding in terms of wildlife. Many lizards (the Emerald Basilisk or “Jesus Christ” lizard so named because it can walk over water), Sloths, Howler Monkeys (yawn), a good 6 foot croc, short-nosed bats (Sarah’s favourite), Poison Dart frogs, Anhinga (careful how you say this – it took a few goes to spot this one). many Kingfishers, bla bla bla. Eliza is the primary point of reference for fauna classification, having purchased a laminated guide to Costa Rica wildlife which we find the tour guides sneakily consulting for the answers to tricky questions.

Tomorrow, we return to San Jose then transfer north to the Tortuguero region on the Caribbean side of the country. There, among other things we will “assist” nesting turtles. How they managed before tourists came to Costa Rica we may never know.
Monty weeing as far as he can.

Monteverde – in pursuit of the “Resplendent Quertzal” (Hugh)

Sarah had spotted a shop in Jaco called “Walter’s surf shack” so on leaving Jaco we had to go back and find this for the inevitable photo. Walter is Sarah’s father’s name and one of Monty’s too, poor fellow.

More chaos on the road to Monteverde. This time the existence or otherwise of deities was not so much on my mind as memories of that film “Duel” where an enormous truck with “MACK” written on the front chases a bloke in a car through the mid-West. In the film there are lots of shots of the truck appearing suddenly in the rear view mirror – this was my constant vision throughout our journey from Jaco and so I was forever being forced into dubious overtaking manoeuvres to get rid of these nightmarish apparitions.

Lunch in a reasonable Tico joint after 90 minutes driving, then off-tarmac and onto dirt roads for the last 50kms. Then and since, have been extremely grateful for 4WD motor, which has been firmly locked in 4WD mode for the last 3 days. On the dirt road, initially saw no cars for 30 minutes, although spotted some pretty genuine looking cowboys, then bizarrely, suddenly onto tarmac again for the lights of Santa Elena.

A few silly signs along the way...

Arrive at Hotel Fonda Vela which is full of birders and other hearties but very comfortable and we have vast rooms and 2 beds too many. Kids enjoying phoning between rooms until I have had enough and yell loudly enough to scare off any birds within 2 miles. Before that, heard all kinds of weird sounds, including plenty of what we now know to be the “3 wattled bell bird”. Good name that. I am also getting wattles from eating too many tortillas and doing no exercise.

Early breakfast then a 0730 bus up to some park for a 3kms canopy walk and then more zip-wiring. Saw very little on the elevated bridges – a few eagles, humming birds (which are very cool), an unconfirmed Quertzal sighting. Who exactly came up with the name “The Resplendent Quertzal” for Costa Rica’s national bird? Someone reading too much Lewis Carroll I reckon. The “Quertzal” bit comes from native Injun, but “Resplendent”? Is that a bad translation, or did some ludicrous English birder coin that one? I don’t think I’ve ever used “resplendent” in conversation and make a mental note to try and get it into a client letter when I return to work, ideally in the same sentence as “diaphanous”.

No mammals, other than the many “monkeys” spotted by Eliza. We are learning to interpret any mention of “you are certain to see…X” in the guidebooks as a firm guarantee that there are no Xs within miles. No surprise either, although the birdlife seems reasonably content to have tourists trekking through the place, why on earth a howler or any other type of monkey, sloth, or anything else with half a brain would hang around when punters are zipping past (the American ones whooping) within earshot I have no idea. I think the Ticos have messed this place up, presumably in the face of clear demand from the tourists for “adrenalin” activities which have supplanted the peaceful “nature spotting” ones; Monteverde is becoming more akin to NZ’s Queenstown or Zim’s Vic Falls than a destination for lovers of nature. Great fun though, of course, and we add our dollars to the equation by going zipping, canyoning, horse-riding, canopy walking etc. etc.

Zip wires a bit more chaotic than in Jaco. Less clipping on despite serious heights, and was a bit nervous to lose touch with the kids a few times – at this venue, kids are “taxied” by guides who take one in front and one behind. Romantic moment of the day was zipping together with Sarah on the longest (506 metres) zip which goes on for absolutely ever. I was in charge of braking. We have come a long way in our 20 years together. That was the closest I have yet come to receiving recognition from Sarah of some kind of trust in my judgement of speed/danger.

We have been horseriding, which was the kids’ highlight by some distance.
By some years, Monty was the youngest that they’d ever had riding his own horse, I gather, and the guides thought he was a dude. This was Western style riding, so our rising trots looked a bit silly. Had a couple of opportunities to thrash about, and Jemima joined us on one of these. Initially tough to persuade her to join in, but after one go she wanted to do it all day long.
Great fun cantering Western style, you feel like a real vacquero and even whooped a few times (ibid).

Girls went canyoning in the afternoon, and got plenty wet.

More lying about age to get on the trip - this time the minimum recommended age was 12 so although Sarah and the girls for under the wire, this was a bit of a push for Monty and he failed on this occasion. I stayed back with him and we sneaked down the return path to grab some shots of the girls abseiling down some impressive looking falls.

Finished the day with a great ‘Tico meal in a local joint in town recommended by this morning’s horseriding guides and, surrounded by Monteverde’s locals, enjoyed tortillas, espagueti with butter, and pescado all for $28 washed down by a couple of cervezas and gallons of fanta for los ninos.


Off to Arenal next, for 4 nights at the Arenal Observatory Lodge. Another environment, this time volcanoes and hot springs.

Surfing in Jaco (Hugh)

A slightly frustrating experience to be frank. While we were here, huge swells were coming in off the Pacific, and Jaco beach, famous for presenting perfect head high swell, could not hold waves of this size and was closing out completely. I tried a short board, then a long board, but was just getting crucified, so called in some expert help in the form of pregnant surf teacher Andrea and her diminutive sidekick Ariel (yes really) who was standing in as water buddy while she was off games. I was back with a short board by now, and tasked these guys with finding me some rideable swell and teaching me how to improve my duck-dive to make some headway through these monstrous waves.

It turned out that even with expert local help, finding a good spot was not easy. As with most places, conditions vary according to the tide, the size of the swell, the wind etc., and the first place (Punta Leona) was no good. We only found this out after a 30 minute drive, then you paddle across one bay before clambering over a small cliff which gives you access to the next bay. The tide was too far in for the wave to be running so we turned round and drove 40 minutes back along the coast to Esperillos North. Here the swell was huge, well above head height, and really messy too, but we had a go. Ariel gave me some great tips on duck-diving and with a bit more practice things are going to be a lot easier when I get back to Crackington. But an hour was enough for me – I was so tired after this that I couldn’t even push myself up off the board to stand up. I wrenched my shoulder, lost both contact lenses and ripped both knees on the rocks. I wish I was 17 again.

They are really proud of the surf that they have here in Costa Rica, and rightly so. The world championships are being held at Playa Hermosa where we had lunch a few days ago, and the swell here is absolutely terrifying. If I had a little longer, I would have headed up to Boca Barranca – this boasts a 500 yard left (one of the longest in the world) starting at a river mouth infested with crocs. As a result, you are warned to look out for a few dodgy looking heads in the line-up.

The kids have been boogie-boarding. Eliza had about 3 runs before Monty took her out, but Monty and Jemima have returned to the fray and have had great fun. Serious undertow (makes Strangles Beach look safe, what would Papa say), but the waves are so strong that you just can’t miss them. Monty has also been riding in on knee high waves standing up on my long board and has given a couple of on-looking local Grandmas a load of laughs.