Costa Rica Sept 15th 1999

Hey:
We’ve just returned from a jaunt up the Ganacaste coast, and we leave for Panama tomorrow at 6:00 am, so this will be the last letter before we get home. We just wanted to catch you up with the last week.
We went to an area that we’ve been wanting to visit for a long time, called Tortuguero on the Caribbean coast up near the Nicaragua border. It is a large swamp area – no roads lead into it, and you have two options to get in and out: by plane or by boat. We chose to combine them and do each one on a one way basis. We were happy we did.
We came in by boat. After a three hour bus ride to the place where we caught the small launch – a 10 passenger flat-bottomed boat which took us on the final two hours of our journey. On the way in, we stopped to watch monkeys, snakes, river turtles, sloths and a whole host of bird life.
All in all, it helped acclimate us to the remoteness of where we were going. The residents of the “town,” have no automobiles, hence walking is relaxing and without stress. The town is flanked by a canal on one side and the Caribbean on the other side. It’s really just a grouping of small wooden houses, on stilts mostly. It is the Caribbean coast, after all. The hotel where we’re staying is quite nice and has great food. There are only nine of us in the hotel, surprisingly, three honeymoon couples, a Spanish woman, Carol and myself. The honeymooners surprised me because it isn’t exactly a hot destination listed in the bridal books. One couple from San Diego, Brits and Italians made up the other couples. It is all very informal, and even though everybody was staying for just two nights, it was a very informal group. All meals are taken communally and so conversations flow easily between people from all parts of the world experiencing the same thing in much the same way. There are a lot of really cool people in this world.
In spite of the remoteness, there are a lot of things to do. We opted to do the turtle walk at night. About 10 p.m. we set out and watched green turtles come in for nesting. It is the largest nesting in the Caribbean for them and we watched one famale lay over a hundred eggs in the chamber she dug out. It was very fascinating. We had mixed feelings about it because we felt that it had to be disturbing to the animals, but we did it anyway, typical tourists, regrettably.
In the Galapagos Islands, we had to be off the beach 30 minutes before dark so the turtles could come onto shore with no disturbance whatsoever. But here, they allow it – with conditions – no cameras, no lights, and totally under the supervision of licensed guides. The guide waits until the female has built the chamber and starts laying the eggs. Then he uses a red light so as not to disturb her, and the light only shines on the tail end, which is where all the action is anyway. This ensures that there in no direct contact with the observers. While we were on beach, people from the Caribbean Conservation Corps came by and inventoried whether she had been tagged. She had been, so her size and exactly where on the 27 mile beach she came to lay her eggs, and assorted notations, and measurements. Talk about not disturbing the egg layer. Oh well. It’s actually quite a project. It’s been going on for over 30 years, and they have a lot of data on the turtles. There is a museum which chronicles their activities. The son of the owner of the travel agency where I work spent three months volunteering on the project.
Since our hotel is on the other side of the canal, we are backed up by deep, dense rain forest, with a smaller finger lake behind that before the really scary stuff.
There’s a cool photo of it at:
http://www.govisitcostarica.com/travelinfo/photoLg.asp?phID=125V
Trails have been carved out of the dense tree growth, and on the second night we ventured into the black. With just enough light to see our way and figure out what we were doing, we were lucky to run in to the Brits who had night vision glasses. They naturally became our new, best friends. We checked out all the forest tops and discovered dozens of monkeys – white faced, the rarer spider, and let’s not forget the tocsin of the jungle, the howler monkey. The Brit said: “Watch this,” and imitated the howler. They don’t like to be made fun of and they voice their objections loudly and persistently. “Revenge is mine,” sayith the howler. He starts up his bit as soon as there is light, and he does so from the trees directly outside your room.
We could have spent more time there, but the old bugaboo “time” bit us and we left the third afternoon. The morning was spent combing the coastline, shell hunting and wading in the rich, warm waters of the Caribbean. It was great, but I wouldn’t care to ride out hurricane season there. `After our walk we headed over to the canal and sat on the bank watching the life on the water. The canal is an artificial waterway, cut to provide access to the coastal people. We sat there awhile and eventually someone from the hotel saw us and motored over in the launch to take us back across the canal. It was a great afternoon. In the late afternoon, a six passenger plane settled down on the makeshift strip and exchanged incoming for outgoing passengers. Lucky for us, we were only ones going out so Carol had the ability to see out of both sides of the plane from her back seat. Beyond the fact that as we all know, a woman’s place is in the back seat☺ she always give me the front seat since she knows that I used to fly and it’s always a kick to have the right seat. Sweet girl, that Carol. We flew low enough that the rain forest is a lovely combination of colors and textures, easily differentiated. There are so many hidden little spots which are impossible to see unless viewed from above. It was only a 25 minute flight as compared to a all day excursion on the way in.
Back in Heredia we had a couple of hours to clean up, get clean clothes packed and be out the door once again. Marco and Dixie took us up the pacific side where the majority of beaches and resorts are located. Of course, I wanted to see these areas for my travel agent gig, and not for my own pleasure. This side is very different from the Caribbean side: people, vegetation, beaches, you name it. They all speak Spanish, but that’s about it all the have in common.
After celebrating the grandmother’s birthday at their summer home in Higuito, a small pueblo about an hour from San Jose, we came back to Heredia and our farewell dinner. There will be 16 of us drinking, eating, and drinking, with a little drinking mixed in somewhere in the middle. Tomorrow it’s hangover time and a long bus ride to Panama – just Carol and myself. They all want to know when we’ll come back. I try to explain that the reason they like me so much is because they only see me once every two years. Carol, however, they love like a sister or daughter.
Tomorrow’s bus ride will be nine hours and we’ll put up overnight in the city of David, no not the biblical one, the Panamanian one. That will be followed by a seven hour ride to Panama City. We only have two nights there, however. Less than we hoped for, but that’s travel. You just adjust and work with what you have. We wouldn’t have missed out on anything in our stay in Costa Rica to save the time for some unknown in the future. My only regret tomorrow will be that I missed a few rounds at the bar, but that’s another story. We’ll be home for only a week before heading off to Korea and Jeff’s wedding. Wonder what that will be like?