Guayabo

Bella woke me up in time to shower before moving the car from the gas station at 7 am. Bill stopped by to let us know they were getting their car out and heading to breakfast. I took Isabella with me as Cristina started packing up the room with Alex and Sofia sleeping a little longer.

I got to the car around 6:50, but I was blocked in by another car. I waited till about 7:10 when someone came and moved the other car.

We walked a block or so to a little soda and had a gallo pinto breakfast. It was a little too crispy for my taste, but the eggs were good and handmade tortillas were a nice bonus. They gave us too much change back and seemed surprised when we caught the mistake and gave them the extra money back.

We finished packing up at the hotel, checked out, and headed out of Turrialba to Guayabo Monument Park.

Guayabo is the most important and largest archeological site in Costa Rica. Because of its central location between the 2 continents and its geographic structures (two mountains, one east and the other west, and two rivers running north and south) this area played an important role as a meeting ground between different pre-Columbian cultures and had influences as far away as Canadian tribes. Archeologists have only excavated 20% of the total area. What is visible now is several mounds, part of a stone road and several aqueducts. All of this was constructed without the use of beasts of burden or the wheel, between 1000 BC to 1400 AD. Simply put, it was all made by human exertion. All the stones were brought from the rivers down below. The aqueducts are still flowing today. Two cultures seemed to be the most important and were symbolized in a carved stone with a jaguar god and an alligator god. Very little is known about these people, including their name or the name of the city or translations of the many petrogliphs.

Cristina visited here when she was around 5 years old with her family and the Fallas family while they were living in Turrialba. At that time you could walk all over the ruins and nothing was roped off. The park was founded less than 2 months after Cristina was born.

It was a beautiful drive up the slopes of Volcan Turrialba, where Guayabo lays. The road is good-quality asphalt except for the last 4 km up to the National Monument. There it turns into a very steep, rocky road, where I decided to use the 4-wheel drive for the first time.

When we arrived at the park, we were greeted by several vendors and a park ranger and a guide. Once again, it pays for Cristina to have her cedula (national ID), as it cost about $3 total for all 5 of us and $9 each for the Sheridans. We decided to splurge on a guide, Gerardo, an archeology student and father of 2 children.

The guide was definitely worth it, because he pointed out things that we would have never noticed on our own. For example, there is a plant called sangre de Cristo (blood of Christ) that supposedly sprouted form the ground where drops of Jesus’s blood hit the ground when He was crucified. Gerardo told us this, and then lifted the leaves and showed us the underside. Each leaf had a bright red splotch of red on its underside. Another example was when he saw us spraying bug spray on the kids. He told us not to use it because it actually attracts bugs. Instead, he showed us a plant where you pick a leaf, crumple it up, and then spread it on your clothes. The mosquitoes hate the smell of it and will stay away. He also showed us a plant whose milk, when squeezed from the stem, can be put on itchy bug bites to make the itch stop. We definitely needed that. When he saw Alex’s bites, he tore off a good size piece and gave it to me for future use.

Gerardo’s English was pretty good, but when he struggled, he had Cristina to fall back on to translate for the rest of us. I heard him speaking with Callista a little bit. Her Spanish is getting pretty good. She’ll be fluent in no time.

The archeological site was pretty cool and we all learned a lot, but seeing all the wildlife and tropical rain forest around us was just as satisfying. Gerardo even pointed out a sloth, albeit pretty far away in a distant treetop.

We spent a few hours at Guayabo and then were ready to move on. Before we left, Cristina bought some hair pins made out of Pejibaye wood, an exotic hardwood. She paid 500 colones for the pair.

It was lunchtime and we were all getting a bit hungry. On the way back down the mountain we stopped at a restaurant called Dos Culturas (Two Cultures) that happened to be a Mexican/Costa Rican restaurant. We thought a little taste of home (Phoenix) would be kind of fun. The restaurant is owned by an older married couple, she from Chihuahua and he from Costa Rica. The food was good and cheap and we chatted with them for a while. Jennifer’s family is from Chihuahua, so there was that connection.

Sofia enjoyed her bean and cheese burrito so much she wanted a second one (which we got for her). Brasil was playing France, so I was keeping an eye on the game during the meal as well. I chatted with the owner a bit about the game and found he was rooting for Brasil (not a big surprise). I kept neutral, even though I always like to see Brasil lose.

I got out the map to check our route home. The owner offered a suggestion of a much nicer, picturesque way home. While he explained it to Cristina and Bill (Cristina’s the navigator…I just drive), the girls were dancing to an Irish jig that the owners were playing on the stereo. The woman owner danced with them, and I couldn’t resist video taping them. It was sweet.

We drove through the most beautiful mountains I think I’ve ever seen. Through little towns called Santa Cruz, Pacayas, and Cipreses. We ended up at Cartago, where we finally got on the autopista to San Jose. After the gorgeous mountain roads, the autopista was a disappointment.

Back in Pavas by 4:30, we said goodbye to the Sheridans and unpacked our stuff. Ramón and Maritza were not home. The kids watched some TV while I ordered a pizza from Papa John’s. Since we had a car, I thought I’d go pick up the pizza instead of having it delivered. I failed to get directions to the store because I thought I knew where it was. Well, it wasn’t where I thought it was. Cristina had tagged along with Alex and Bella (Sofia opted to stay home). Of course, Cristina was annoyed at me for not getting directions. I remembered the number to Papa John’s but we had no cell phone and the pay phones here only seem to take calling cards. So we had to go home and call for directions. It turns out the place is inside a grocery store. Who would have thought?

Back home, Sofia was feeling ill and wound up throwing up. Cristina was handling that while I was eating pizza in the kitchen with Alex and Isabella. About a half hour later, Isabella had the mother of all poops and when Cristina picked her up, poop squirted out of the back of her diaper. A little blob landed on Bella’s arm, and when Bella saw it, she thought it was a smooshed bug (it had a black bean in it) and she started screaming! Cristina finally calmed her panic when she convinced her that it was just poop, not a bug. It was hilarious. So within half an hour, Cristina had been up to her ears in throw up and poop. When it rains, it pours.

We got the kids to bed and Ramón and Maritza got home. We got good news from the mechanic: the car was done and ready to be picked up! We had toyed with the idea of extending the rental on our car but now it seemed that that would be unnecessary.

Moving on to cooler climate

Now that we had decided to leave today (hotel check-out was at noon) we knew this morning would be our last big beach outing. Bill stayed up at the rooms while the rest of us went down to the beach. It was a great morning. We built sandcastles, we played in the waves, the kids buried me in sand. Isabella even let us bury her in sand, all the way up to the neck. We sculpted a mermaid body out of sand for her, which was very cute and drew the attention of some Canadian tourists.

I had sunscreened well, so it was more of a comfortable morning knowing that I wasn’t going to burn. It was still hot, but the water was cool and refreshing.

We kept an eye on the time, because we wanted enough time to get showered, pack up, and check out by noon.

As we loaded up the cars, the Argentina-Germany game was in overtime. As the owner of our hotel is German, the game was on in the restaurant and a big group was watching. I kept an eye on the game as I loaded the car. Germany won in a shoot-out!

We headed out of Cocles a little after noon. We had decided to go to Turrialba for the night, and then drive up to the archaeological ruins at Guayabo the next morning. I was out of cash, and a stop at the ATM was fruitless: the power was out all over town.

We stopped in Siquirres to again try to find propane gas for the Sheridan’s car. I led the way, and despite Bill’s warning about a particularly tricky one-way street, I went down it the wrong way (in my defense, it was raining buckets). No problem. After some blaring horns to alert me of my error, I did a quick turn around and got on the right path.

We looked for an ATM, and finally found one, but the line of people waiting for it wrapped around the block. So I just waited. Bill said he’d spot me the money for lunch.

We were all pretty hungry (it was around 3 pm) so we stopped at the central market. Luckily, we were able to park very close to the market so we didn’t have to get very wet. As is often the case in places like this, we paid to use the bathroom. I think it was 100 colones per person. The guy who was manning the toilets had a kitten with pierced ears! We were so amazed by this that he had Alex pose with the kitten for our cameras. We asked him where a good place to eat was, and he took us to a little soda in the middle of the market.

Funny, Cristina and I had never eaten at a central market soda. It’s not that we don’t think the food is safe, but…central markets just have a very rough-hewn edge to them. They can be crowded and noisy. You usually have to eat at barstools, like a lunch counter, rather than tables. And it’s very likely that you might be eating right beside a smelly fish booth, or a butcher’s kiosk with all parts of the animals on display. So we’ve just always chosen to eat at a more traditional restaurant-type place, or a soda, which is just a very small, greasy spoon-type restaurant. I have to hand it the Sheridans: they will eat anywhere. And I love them for that. Bill said to me once, “We’ve eaten at every kind of hole-in-the-wall, dumpy-looking place you can imagine. I thought we would have gotten sick at least once by now, but we haven’t. And the food is always good!” So when Bill suggested we eat lunch in the Siquirres central market (at a soda next to a fish booth no less) I trusted wholly in his experience. Plus, I was tired and hungry.

The soda didn’t have much chicken left, only enough for two plates. So the Sheridans got pork chops, our kids got the chicken, and Cristina and I asked for eggs with our rice and beans. I was pleasantly surprised. The meal was awesome! Those were the best eggs I think I’ve ever had! The lady who seemed to be running the soda had scrambled them with some onions and garlic and they were bursting with flavor. And the rice and beans…she cooked them with coconut milk (Caribbean style) and they too were rich and delicious. Everything was great and I practically licked my plate clean. Cristina remarked later about how beautiful the woman was that ran the soda. She was probably in her 50’s, dark skin, and green eyes. Very striking. She helped us try to locate the propane stations, even made some calls for us, but to no avail. We would get no propane in Siquirres.

Onward to Turrialba. After missing the road and asking for directions, we finally got going the right way. It took about an hour to get from Siquirres to Turrialba, and it was gorgeous and cool (as in chilly). The mountains around Turrialba are rain forest, and at times the road we were on drove through the clouds. Breathtaking views. When we got to Turrialba, the word “magical” came to mind. I even thought that if we moved to Costa Rica, I could definitely envision living in or near Turrialba. I dunno, it struck a chord with me.

It was almost dark. Time to find a place to stay for the night. The Fallas family used to live in Turrialba and still has family that lives there. So we pulled over and called Vicky on the cell phone. She made some calls and then called us back with a recommendation. Hotel Karday. Clean, no-frills, safe, and cheap ($30 for us, with three beds, $25 for the Sheridans with two beds). That was the hotel that some of the Fallas clan had stayed at when they visited Turrialba. That was good enough for us. After filling up the tank, we found the hotel and got settled.

The hotel was just as described. No frills. Clean. Our room had a small bathroom with suicide shower (i.e. relatively hot water). One double bed and two twin beds. Considering that in Pavas, Sofia and Alex sleep on the floor, any bed for them is kind of a luxury. Oh, and the room had a ceiling fan and cable TV, two things we didn’t have at the beach in our $50 rooms (not that we really wanted TV, but the ceiling fans were a befuddling omission there).

In addition to the very adequate rooms, there was a community room I the back of the hotel complete with kitchen (fridge, microwave, toaster, toaster oven, dishes, pots and pans, etc) and pool table. We cobbled together a light dinner of watermelon and avocado while the kids played pool (sort of…Bella was on the table, so it was mostly just rolling the balls into the pockets).

For 1500 colones each, our cars could be parked at a gas station next to the hotel where they would be covered and watched all night. The only catch is that we had to move the cars by 7 am, because they would be blocking a storefront that opened at 7.

I took a quick walk to an ATM and finally got some money.

Beach Day

Around 3am, there was a gigantic thunderstorm. It was so big and loud that it pretty much woke everyone up. The thunder was so deep and rumbling and long-lasting that it almost felt like an earthquake. And the combination of the sound of pouring rain and ocean surf…it was very loud. No wonder it woke most of us up. We all went back to sleep though.

Bella woke early and Cristina took her on the porch to watch the waves and eat some leftover rice. When we all got up we took appraisal of the damage: Alex was covered with mosquito bites. On one elbow alone he had about 30 bites. Sofia had a few bites, but luckily not as many as Alex. Cristina, Isabella, and I weren’t too bad, but we had slept right beside the plug-in mosquito repellant. Sofia and Alex had slept in a smaller room that was in the back. I quickly surmised that we needed another plug-in mosquito repellant for their room.

Breakfast was included in the price of the room and it turned out to be a nice bonus. We could choose between a Tico breakfast, which was gallo pinto, an egg, coffee, and homemade bread, or a pancake breakfast, which came with fresh fruit. They also had a continental breakfast of bread, juice, and a big fruit plate of pineapple, cantaloupe, papaya, and mango. The homemade bread had carrot in it and was delicious.

After breakfast, we went to the beach. I knew this was going to be a big beach day, and I prefer to only get sunscreened and sandy one time per day, so I opted to supervise this outing and take pictures without getting wet. It started to rain, so I used an umbrella while everyone else played in the water.

Based on everyone’s dislike of the hot, humid weather and the plethora of mosquito bites, I brought up the possibility of only spending 2 nights here instead of three. I suggested we could drive back up to Braulio Carrillo to spend the third night. Anywhere cooler would do! Add in the fact that this hotel was costing us more than we’d planned, and it was an easy choice. All the adults agreed that we would leave Cocles the next day and head somewhere cooler.

Between taking pictures and watching the kids play, I was people-watching as well. There were not many people on the beach by Florida standards, but there were probably 5 or 6 other people in our immediate vicinity. I spotted one particularly striking couple. The man was huge and bald. The woman he was with had quite the figure as well. I was watching them off and on from afar when suddenly the woman took off her top. So my guess is they were European. I thought about going up to them and asking where they were from, but I figured they might misconstrue my intentions.

The lifeguard stand in front of our hotel usually has one or two lifeguards. It was perhaps no coincidence that while the topless sunbather was doing her thing, there suddenly was a need for reinforcements. About five or six lifeguards were in the tower, binoculars in hand. Keeping the beach safe, of course.

I hadn’t sunscreened, so I kept my hat on and I even used the umbrella when it wasn’t raining. Nevertheless, my neck got burnt, as did my legs from the knee down to my sock line.

Another couple went topless, so I guess once the first girl did it, it gave others the bravery to do it. Cristina decided to keep her top on. Besides the sunburn factor, it would have been too much of a temptation for Isabella.

We spent a few hours at the shore until it was about time for lunch and Isabella’s nap. We got showered and went into town to buy some ice for the Sheridan’s cooler as well as another mosquito thing for the kids’ room. Back at the room, Isabella took her nap and I bought cokes for the kids from the restaurant downstairs. While Isabella napped, the kids snacked on some chips, popcorn, and cookies. Isabella wound up taking a really long nap, tired out by the sun and playing in the ocean. Sofia nagged us repeatedly to go back to the beach, but we needed to let Bella sleep. It was getting so late that we decided to eat a big early dinner instead of lunch as soon as Bella woke up. Once she got up, we drove down the coast to Manzanillo, a tiny town that is almost as far south as you can go on the pacific side. The only other town is called Sixaola, right on the Panamanian border, but you have to drive a dirt road through banana plantation to get there.

We ate at a little soda right near the beach and were pleased at how good the food was. I had fillet of marlin in garlic, Cristina had a whole fish (I think it was red snapper) and the kids had spaghetti. The natural drinks were great too. While we waited for the food, the kids went across the street to the beach and explored a bit.

After dinner, we drove down further through Manzanillo until we basically ran out of road. Then we turned around and drove back to the hotel.

It was getting dark by this point, and we had promised the kids one more beach time before we called it a day. Bill and I went down to the beach with the kids. It was kind of scary. The ocean was really rough and of course it was dark. So we made it a short trip. Besides, Bella was ready to go back after about 10 minutes.

After the kids were showered, sprayed with bug repellant, and asleep, I worked on my journal while Cristina and Jennifer sat on the porch and talked. I had a hard time falling asleep and didn’t get to sleep until after midnight.

So this is what hot feels like

Because we had packed up the night before, we were ready to go early. The Sheridans were going to come to our place, then we’d caravan to the beach. The Sheridans were a little later arriving than expected, so we didn’t leave till about 9:30. But it was comforting to know that we aren’t always the slow ones holding up the works.

We had no problems getting out of San Jose. The road through Braulio Carrillo National Park was gorgeous, lush and mountainous. We passed too many waterfalls to keep track of.

Bill’s car has the same propane conversion thing that Ramón’s car has, and there are only so many stations in the country that are equipped to fill up the propane tank. The last place he knew of was near the little town of Siquirres, so we stopped there for a fill-up. The guy there said they only fill up the tanks of customers that have had their cars converted by them. He told us of a place up the road that could do it. While the Sheridans went up to look for that place, we had a drink at a little bar/restaurant. The Sheridans were gone for a while, but they finally returned…with no gas! There was no other place that sold propane for cars. Cristina talked to the man again and talked him into selling them a tank of propane. In no time we were on the road again.

As we came down the mountain into the lowlands towards the port city of Limon, the weather got decidedly warmer. We did the totally gringo thing and used the air conditioner, which was lovely. We passed through Limon and turned south down the coast. I filled up my tank at a gas station in Limon. Bill and Jennifer bought some snacks for us all. Unfortunately, Jennifer turned her ankle and took a spill in the parking lot. She scraped up her knee, but she survived. We kept on.

We pulled off at Cahuita, our old Pacific beach stomping ground, for lunch. We found our little cabin that we’ve stayed at several times (1998 and 2001). It’s right on the beach, with some nice reefs and tide pools. We chose a little restaurant, called Miss Edith’s Kitchen, right beside our old hotel.

Bear with me, because I’m going to complain a little here. I’ve lived in Arizona, and more specifically, the Sonoran desert, for two years now. I lived in Florida for 23 years. I have experienced all kinds of hot. The sticky, oppressive, stifling heat that we felt at Cahuita while we ate lunch was probably in the top 5 nasty-hot experiences of my life. It was like being forced to wear a 3-piece burlap suit, first dipped in boiling salt-water, inside a health club steam room, with a heat lamp turned on for good measure. It was sick, and I’m not using that word as slang for “cool” like the young whippersnappers do these days. I played it off like it was no big deal, but I was thinking, “Please don’t let the whole 3 days be like this, or I will die.” I could tell Bill felt the same way. He was using napkins from the table to wipe the backs of his knees where the sweat was rolling off. I remember going to the bathroom, which was even hotter than our table, and looking in the mirror at my red, shiny, dripping face and thinking guiltily how much I just wanted to be in air conditioning. I chalked it up to Arizona causing me to lose my acclimation to severe humidity. I’ll admit it: I’ve become a humidity wimp.

Maybe my opinion was skewed by the heat (you think?) but the restaurant was not very satisfying. They had no beans (how can a restaurant in Costa Rica not have beans!?), it was overpriced, and of all places that could use a fan or two, this one had none. Since there were no beans, I got pasta with chicken. The chicken tasted like smoked pork to me and looked pink. The pasta was cooked with Caribbean seasonings, which was different but okay, although Sofia didn’t like it. But it was just too darned hot to enjoy a meal. And they didn’t take plastic (of course) so I had to use a good chunk of my precious cash.

After the meal, we checked out the adjacent tide pool area where a few small boats were moored. The kids found some cool shells. We headed on towards Puerto Viejo.

Thank God we had rented a relatively big 4x4 because driving the road from Cahuita to Puerta Viejo is somewhat like what I would imagine driving on the moon to be like, except with the gravity of Mercury. We endured potholes that I imagine the locals have probably named. When we finally got to our hotel, I wanted a t-shirt that said “My car survived Pepito and his 827 brothers.” The worst ones are the ones that are so big and full of muddy water that you can’t judge how deep they are. There were two like this just before bridges. All the cars on this road are zig-zagging around at a mere crawl, trying to find the smoothest path possible through this obstacle course. It’s funny how much satisfaction you get by navigating through a rough patch without hitting anything major. More often, though, there just aren’t any good spots and you have to pick the least painful looking pothole to hit. At one point, Isabella would laugh every time I swerved or hit a hole. That lightened the mood.

We arrived at La Isla Inn, our hotel. The ocean was beautiful and we were feeling pretty good. Unfortunately, the front desk guy knew nothing about our reservations and the prices were in the 80’s and up, depending on the room. He went and checked with the manager, who said they knew about the reservations but they knew nothing of all the kids and dog that we brought. The best she could offer was two rooms for $50 each per night. We knew we probably wouldn’t find anything cheaper, and certainly not as nice, so we agreed. I know $50 for a beachside hotel is dirt-cheap in the States, but this is Costa Rica! The only place we’ve ever spent that much on a hotel here is in the Monteverde cloud forest, where everything is expensive.

The rooms were nice and had a view of the ocean. We wasted no time in donning our beach garb and running across the road for a quick dip in the ocean. The water temperature was just right. Not so warm to be icky, but not so cold to be bracing. The kids had a ball. Isabella would laugh and smile the biggest smile I’ve ever seen whenever a wave would knock into her.

The surf here is very dangerous, with an undertow that’s so powerful it can be lethal (no exaggeration) so we were careful not to go out further than knee deep.

Our rooms were side by side on the second story and out front there was a long balcony with a long bench. After getting cleaned up, the Sheridans pulled out various fruits, vegetables, and snacks for a light supper. To contribute, Cristina and I drove down to the little supermarket to get a few things. I wanted to get some rice from a little soda, so we stopped at one. We got more than rice: we were taught a life-lesson for the low price of $8. We didn’t get a price upfront and after they had scooped the rice and given it to us, they told us the price was 4000 colones ($8). We complained, and they justified it by saying that all places will charge you about 1000 colones for one plate of rice, so we were getting a bargain for about 6 servings of rice. Yeah right. Lesson learned: always get the price upfront. If they refuse, move on.

After dinner, we got the kids to bed. We hadn’t brought any mosquito things to plug in or burn, so we borrowed one of the plug-in kind from the front office. Our rooms had fans and no a/c. I hoped the fans would be enough, but it was a hot, sticky night. And unfortunately we would be visited by many uninvited guests.

Rental car

I woke up and checked online for car rentals. I wanted something cheap. I didn’t even care about the size. I figured a 4x4 would be out of the question, though it would be ideal for the bad roads here.

Through the Tico Times classifieds, we found an Isuzu Rodeo (4WD) for $30 a day! Incredible. We would have to pay in cash, but as long as we don’t get stung on the safety deposit, we will have gotten a great deal.

Chino took us into San Jose to pick up the car. It went very easily and soon we were driving home in our own car. Other than a mile or so that I drove Dom’s rental car in 2002, this was my first driving in Costa Rica, in six trips here.

We filled up the tank. There are three things of note concerning gasoline in Costa Rica. 1. There is no such thing as a self-serve gas station. I actually like the full-serve here. Not having to get out of the car, the attendant checking the air in the tires, etc. I remember that kind of service when I was a kid, but full-serve gas stations have gone the way of the do-do bird in the States. 2. The gas is very dirty here. Costa Rica imports 100% of their petroleum, and the quality of the gasoline they produce and consume is very bad. 3. It is expensive. Today it was 504 colones per liter, which is close to $4 a gallon. At least you don’t have to search for the cheapest station: Costa Rica’s gas is controlled by a state-run monopoly, so every station has the same price. That’s handy. Anyway, it is because of #2 and #3 that Ramón paid the $1000 or so to convert his car to propane. Clean burning and about $2 a gallon. Our rental car had a quarter of a tank when we picked it up. This fill-up cost us about $60. Ouch! Freedom and mobility ain’t cheap.

When we got home, we ate some lunch and discussed what we wanted to do with the rest of our day, now that we had a car. We decided to go to Cartago and visit the cathedral (basilica). To set the scene, we told Sofia and Alex the story of the Virgin of Los Angeles, Costa Rica’s patron saint, as best as we could remember it. Here’s the gist:

Hundreds of years ago, a little girl was collecting firewood. She found a doll-like statue on a rock near a bubbling spring. She took it home and put it in her jewelry box. The next morning, she went back to the same spot, only to find another statue. “Cool, now I’ve got two,” she thought as she took it home. But when she opened her jewelry box, it was empty. This time she put it in and locked it. The next morning, she looked in the box. It was gone. She went to the rock, and sure enough, there it was. She went to the priest, told him what happened, and gave him the statue. He kind of blew it off and put the statue in his room. The next day, it was gone and the priests found it, you guessed it, back at the same rock. Now they decided it was a miracle, and that the church should be built on that spot. So now the bubbling spring there at the church is considered holy water and people come from all around to drink it, take it home, cure what ails ‘em, etc. It’s a pretty cool story, and Sofia and Alex got a little excited to see the church. Better than just saying, “We’re going to go visit a church.”

We made a wrong turn somewhere on the way to Cartago and took the scenic route, which proved to be beautiful and fun. We had one long stretch of crappy unpaved road, but most of the trip was through bucolic mountainside roads and quaint little villages. Occasionally we would stop and ask someone if we were still on the path to Cartago. I think only twice did we need to backtrack some and take a different turn.

We got to the basilica and looked around inside. The stained glass was beautiful. Alex was very well behaved, quiet with his hands behind his back. We saw the rock where the little girl found the statue. We drank from the holy water spring. We bought some little holy water bottles to fill up for possible souvenirs.

We drove to the ruins of an older cathedral that was destroyed by an earthquake. In the story that Cristina had been told by her grandmother, the little girl told the priests where to build their church (with the Virgin Mary’s urging via the little statue) and the priests refused. They built the church where they wanted to, and an earthquake promptly destroyed it. So they finally recognized their error and built where the girl told them. Who knows what story is “correct,” but it really doesn’t matter. Like any good myth, this story obviously has different versions depending on the source.

Before we left Cartago, we popped into Burger King to use their bathroom. They had a playground, so the kids played for a while. I felt a little guilty for using their facilities, so I bought a kids meal that we all shared.

We took the correct route back and got home much quicker, even with rush hour traffic. We parked on the porch. It just barely squeezed in.

I was pleased to find a package waiting for me, finally! A little background first: every year, the University of Florida produces a poster for the upcoming football season. It has the schedule, as well as some kind of cool photo collage. They give the posters away at the stadium, but for those of us that no longer live in Gainesville, you can send a check for $5 and they’ll mail you up to five posters. I hadn’t ordered my 2006 poster yet because I was waiting for the basketball national championship poster to become available, and that wasn’t going to be ready until May. I wanted to bring Ramon a football poster, since I know he likes to frame them and put them up in his house. So I waited too long and before I knew it our trip was only a week away. I knew I wouldn’t get the posters in time to bring to Costa Rica, but just in case, I wrote a little note at the bottom of the order form that said “I leave for Costa Rica on May 31 and would like to take these posters with me. Please rush if possible.” We got a phone call the day before we left from a lady in the marketing department of the UF Athletic Association. I guess she sympathized with my plight, because she offered to mail the posters to me in Costa Rica! We quickly called Ramón and asked for his mailing address, but we didn’t tell him why. So this whole trip, we’ve been asking Maritza to check the mail. They’ve known we were waiting for something, but they had no idea what until tonight when I opened the poster tube. Ramon was very impressed. The basketball posters were included. They had just “come off the presses” around the time we left for Costa Rica. I ordered 3 football posters and 2 basketball posters. So I’ll give Ramón one of each, and that leaves one of each for my classroom, and Alex can put a football poster up in his bedroom.

During dinner, we relayed the day’s exploits to Ramon. Once the kids were in bed, we packed for our 3-day trip to Puerto Viejo, a beach town on the Atlantic side, down near Panama. Ramon called and made reservations: $40 a night at a little beachside hotel that he’d stayed at before.

Car or no car?

We waited for the mechanic, but it seems that he is trying to work out some little kinks. He doesn’t want to rush it, especially with the propane conversion stuff. Meanwhile, our time is ticking away.

We didn’t do much today except wait for the car, which never came. The kids and I walked to Plaza Rohrmoser, ate a fried chicken lunch at Campero, then got a few groceries at Mas por Menos. The plan was to make California tuna toss for dinner.

Before starting on dinner, we walked down to a fabric store so Cristina could get some thread for a needlework project she’s doing. We wound up spending an hour and a half there, much to my boredom. Isabella and Alex had fun playing hide-and-seek amongst the bolts of fabric.

As Cristina and I were going to sleep, she pointed out that we might just have to bite the bullet and rent a car. I was afraid of that. But she’s probably right.

Let's go to the movies

Both Alex and Sofia seemed to feel better in the morning. Alex’s temp was normal, Sofia’s was 99.4. Not bad.

I got up with Isabella at 6 am and made her a scrambled egg. I ate some breakfast myself and then went back to bed around 7. I got up again around 9 and made eggs for everyone else.

We decided to go see Pixar’s Cars today. It just opened on Friday. There is a theater near the American Embassy that allows you to pick your seats when you buy your tickets. Maritza called them for us and, using a little map of the auditorium, we picked our seats and bought our tickets. Pretty cool. Even better, the whole price for five of us was a little over 5000 colones. That’s about $2 a ticket. We can even afford popcorn!

We ordered pizza from Papa John’s for a late lunch/early dinner. We ordered the special that came with two glasses shaped like soccer balls. We thought they were going to be plastic, but we were surprised that they were actually glass. Pretty cool!

Chino drove us to the movie theater and we picked up our tickets. The Cars poster had a little sign on it that said “Hablamos en Espanol.” I had a bad feeling about that. The feeling was confirmed when Cristina asked if it was in English or Spanish. Though they had told us on the phone that it was in English, they had apparently told us wrong. It was in Spanish only. We chose to get our money back rather than sit through it in Spanish. What a shame, too. I was really looking forward to seeing it. Even if I spoke Spanish, I would still want to see it in English. So often in movies, little things get lost in translation, especially jokes and idioms.

Luckily, we knew that Ricardo and his family were seeing the show right before the one we were going to see. So instead of calling Chino or walking home, we waited until the movie got out to see if they could give us a ride home. They could and did.

We ordered Chinese take-out with them and the kids got some good playtime. Isabella especially had a good time playing with Santiago.

We checked with the mechanic and it seems that the car will be ready tomorrow. We’ll have to get the propane hooked up on Tuesday (it runs on propane gas), which means we could hopefully leave for the beach Wednesday. That’s the plan anyway.