It is evening now here in Sarapiqui - a region of Costa Rica most akin to a county in the States. It is a hot night, sweltering even, not offset much by a breeze this far inland. I realize as I write this that DC is on the receiving end of a batch of snow and some icy weather for the next day or so. Let's just say that we appreciate each other's weather at this time and leave it at that.
Our last night on the Caribbean gave us the chance to enjoy skywatching. About a dozen or so hearty souls watched the lunar eclipse early this morning (I was not hearty enough) and argued about which shade of red the moon most approximated. If they wanted to see it, they were able to; how they were up at midnight is unknowable as they were all pretty exhausted by then.
We left Tortuguero this morning by water taxi. We split into three again - luggage, small boat, big boat. In the two days since we came down the Rio Suerte ("Lucky River") the water level had dropped precipitously. Now that we were fighting the current our progress slowed dramatically, as well. Our pilot was as safe as all our students' parents could want: methodical, perhaps even lethargic, but safety above all - to heck with schedules. It took 2 and a half times as long to go back as it did to get there. It felt like we were cruising the Mississippi with Mark Twain - endless tree limbs out of sight to the travelers but clearly troubling to the pilot. It poured as well, a nice tropical downpour that gave us that steamy feeling in the crowded boat. To top it off, no crocodiles - they apparently don't like rain either.
To really top it off, we became stuck within hailing distance of the dock at La Pavona. This explained the mysterious presence of the boat boy up top - he was ordered into the water to shove our boat off each sandbar. He was more nonchalant about the potential for crocodiles than I was; many of your children also volunteered to leap into the Lucky River, but we were freed in time to keep them on the boat. If you have ever seen the movie African Queen, well, it really felt a bit like that, We were passed by many bemused travelers on much lighter boats, but we kept our spirits up and waved at everyone.
Once finally docked, we had no time to linger at the delights this waystation offered. We had to get to Sarapiqui in time to eat and zipline - and we were well behind time. The buses roared out of La Pavona (after checking three detailed maps, I am convinced the town is not called that because I never did find it) and we worked our way over to the volcanic foothills of Puerto Viejo and our hotel.
The hotel, Ara Ambigua, is a delightful eco-resort (by the way, there are no non-eco-resorts in Costa Rica, it may be against the law) with individual cabins, twisty paths, a lake of caimans, ant trails, and a pizza restaurant. There are a couple of other older school groups here as well (so not interested in our kids!). The kind of place you loved as a kid, but one that is a bit more difficult to love as a chaperone.
A quick lunch and most of the students were ferried over to zip line. A second round went an hour and a half later. The zip-lining was a series of nine interconnected aerial pathways that culminated in a long drop over the Sarapiqui River - the same river we will raft tomorrow. The guides were professional and efficient. Our second group arrived very late and almost didn't get to go - the final long drop would be in the dark by the time we worked our way to it. But we got going and didn't miss a line. At the very end, Mr. Rottman and I stood as the last two participants, watching lightning bugs from our platform and then, once aloft, guessing that there was a river far below us. It was just that dark, a transition that came up swiftly.
We headed back to the hotel where vast amounts of pizza awaited us, and then prepared for curfew and the challenge of keeping everyone more or less happy in a tight setting with other adolescents. Tomorrow we head for our rafting trip and then, after lunch, off to Arenal. We were trying to figure out which day of the week it was, and failed. That is generally a good sign when you are traveling and someone else is driving the bus.
Wonderful story about the slow-boat ride..yes I have seen the African Queen -- and yes, i can imagine. You all will love Arenal. In 1992, I was young and stupid and climbed way too high up late at night while she was active. She was quiet for our whole hike and climb up -- we watched in awe as the orange glow of lava trickled down her flank. We even hiked passed some slow moving streams of lava -- moving like molasses or mud, black on the outside, but orange showing through on the inside. Fascinating to watch. Then it happened. It remains the loudest sound/vibration/sensation I have ever experienced. Massive KA-BOOOM!! Shook me to my bones. One time the Blue Angels jets flew over me at an airshow, and it was about that loud. White with terror, I ran for my life. My good friend was 10 meters further up then me. I considered waiting for him, but figured he was pretty much toast. Every man for himself. Out of the sides of my eyes, I saw the trajectory overhead. Television-sized globules landed not far. The whole thing was a blur. Our other, smarter friend, who was about 1500 meters below us, down near at the parked car, left us for dead and started the car and evacuated himself. I ran top speed flat out for about 6 minutes before I felt safe enough to look back. Like I was afraid I'd turn into a pillar of salt like Lot's wife. Ultimately we all made it down safely, and shared hardy nervous laughter for a long while. We read about the surprising eruption in the paper the next day. Something about how Arenal had not had that kind of activity since 1968. Now i'm just a bit older, stupid. Hoping Georgia got her Mom's sensibility, not mine. Trusting Arenal will give you adventure, but maybe not too much adventure. Have fun!
ReplyDeleteSounds like you are having a great trip! I love hearing the stories. Send more pics!
ReplyDeleteIzzy's Mom