When Team WestEnders was making crucial travel decision for
the Costa Rica vacation, one of the things we had to nail down was “where to
stay”. It really wasn’t much of a debate, since we’re all agreed that the BEACH is our happy place. Thus we figured that we’d sleep at the shore, and arrange
to venture inland for the other not-to-be-missed sites. Today was one of those excursions:
a visit to the rainforest.
We were all very excited about it, too…just maybe not so
much at 6:30, when the alarm woke us up…or 7:30, when the van left the hotel.
Nope, I think it’s safe to say that the prevailing mood was “zzzzz” when we
started out. But that changed in a big old hurry, thanks to our driver, Sergio.
Now, I don’t know Sergio personally, of course, but my first impression would have to be
that the man has a foot made of pure lead…and an unquenchable death wish…that he
feels compelled to extend to the rest of us as well. Add to this the fact that we
quickly ascertained the condition of Costa Rican roadways, which would best be
described as…hmmm…”abysmal” just about sums it up. As we bounced up and down
steep, narrow roads (peering unwisely out the window, to notice how close we
were clinging to the un-guardrailed edge, overlooking a deep gully), careened
around hairpin turns, and flew past cyclists and pedestrians…yeah, we (okay, at least I) became
awake and terrified in short order.
Fortunately our guide for the day, Sebastian, kept us
entertained and distracted with a running monologue about the scenery, the
region, and whatever else he felt like throwing in there. We learned the
correct pronunciation of Guanacaste’s capital city, for example. (It’s
Lee-BEAR-ee-ah, not Lie-BEER-ee-ah, like the one in Africa, if you’re wondering.)
He also told us that we would be able to recognize when we came to a town
because—no matter how small it may be--each one would have 3 things: a soccer
field, a school, and a church. At this point we were getting out into the
countryside…the first clue might have been when we had to stop and wait for a group
of bulls…and their herd dogs….to move to the side so we could pass them.
Around this time I began to see a curious phenomenon—the scattered houses
were all small, wooden structures with tin roofs, only some of which had glass
in the window openings. Most of them had laundry strung across the front to dry
in the fresh air, and many had chickens, cows, and/or horses wandering around
the premises. However, ALL of them had a satellite dish on the roof. Every.
Single. One. Also, a few times we saw a child in the front yard, or an older person
sitting on a porch, holding a shiny cell phone. It was difficult to reconcile
the evidence of such a simple life with the obvious use of advanced technology at the
same time. (Especially at that hour of the morning, you know?)
Anyway, next we came to the portion of the excursion that
Sebastian had slyly referred to as the “car massage”. We left any semblance of “pavement”
behind to begin traversing the gravel path that would lead us into the private
nature preserve in which we’d be spending our day. Let’s see, how can I best
make you understand the experience…the first word that springs to mind is “bone-rattling”.
But it maybe even more vivid to tell you that my Fitbit, which I was wearing
clipped to my shorts, as usual, registered 9,000 steps on this delightful part
of the trip…all while my butt was firmly planted on the bus (well, except for those
moments when I went airborne from a particularly violent pothole and was almost
flung from my seat, that is…)
When THAT little bit of festivity was over and done with
(thank all of the saints) we arrived at our destination for the hiking portion
of our day. For about an hour, we tromped through the lush green landscape,
enjoying the surroundings in dry comfort. Just when I was thinking, “Huh….the
RAINforest really seems to deliver more of a DRIZZLE,”…the downpour commenced. And from that
point forward, the weather delivered pretty much did 1 of 2 things: misty
sprinkles…or downright drenching cloudbursts. Along the way we encountered several
springs and waterfalls which Sebastian invited us to enjoy. However, he warned
that they might not be, shall we say, “the warmest”. So of course the Male
Posse went in each and every one, but I stayed out—where I honestly wasn’t much
drier, but at least I wasn’t purposely dipping myself into colder water—and continued to
admire the ambiance of the woods.
The final pool, though--that was the one I was holding out
for: an actual hot spring. Feels like bath water? Yep, sign me up! It was
indeed lovely (and therapeutic? Who knows, it felt awesome..) and as I paddled
around with my family and the other adventurers in our little tour group it suddenly
occurred to me that this was, by far, the most remote and wild place I’ve ever
been in my entire life. The thought also popped into my head that, while some
people seek out these kinds of places, fall in love with them, and declare that
they’re turning their backs on civilization, NEVER to return…that’s sooooo very
much NOT me. We finished our short walk back to the Main House, where we were
served a delicious lunch, then re-boarded the shuttle to endure the expedition
back to our 21st-century hotel, I marveled again at all I had seen,
vowed to remember it forever…and felt grateful once more for dry clothes, steaming
coffee, and hot (indoor) showers! Ahhhhh……
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