Shopping day

The first thing we did this morning was pick up the Tico Times and look for pictures. On the page with all the photos, the biggest one was Bella being pushed in the swing by Cristina! The picture of Sofia didn’t make the cut, but Sofia understands the baby factor (everybody likes to see cute little babies) so ending up on the cutting room floor didn’t bother her.

We drove into San Jose and did the cedula thing. Maritza came along to help. A cedula is a Costa Rican ID card…kind of like a social security card, in that every Costa Rican is entitled to one, but they are used a lot more frequently than social security cards. They’re used more like a driver’s license is used in the States. You don’t get the actual card until you’re 12 years old, so Cristina got her first one when we came in 1994. During this trip, we noticed that her cedula expired two years ago, since they have to be renewed every 10 years.

Waiting in line...a Costa Rican tradition!

Ramon was sure it would take 10 days or so for the cedula to be ready, which meant we might have to have it sent to the consulate in Los Angeles for pick up, since Cristina has to pick it up in person. Luckily, after explaining to the cedula people that we live in Arizona and are leaving on Tuesday, they put a rush on it and said it would be ready by 2 pm! Perfect! Picking it up in LA would have been a hassle, and we had plenty to do in San Jose anyway.

Next we drove to the artisan’s row, near the National Museum. I’m not sure if this shopping area has an official name or not. These small booths sell various handcrafted souvenirs, from the extremely fancy and exotic to the slightly cheesy. Everything from very expensive hardwood bowls and carved artwork to Imperial beer T-shirts and iguana key chains.

Isabella checks out the wares while the vendor supervises

These vendors used to be located at the Plaza de la Cultura, above the Gold Museum. But several years ago they were relocated here probably because the city thought they were a bit of an eyesore. The Plaza has kind of a nice European look, filled with a variety of people and pigeons, with the ornate National Theatre dominating one edge of the Plaza. So you can imagine why they wouldn’t want what basically looks like a flea market right in the middle of that.

Today we were after gifts for various people. First and foremost, for our friends, the Yakis, who have been watching our house in Phoenix, feeding our cat, raking his litter box, starting our cars occasionally, etc.

Then we needed some things for various other family and friends. And we wanted to stock up our “gift closet” for occasions that come up like birthday parties that the kids get invited to. And we bought a little bit for ourselves, which is important to remember to do. Alex picked a miniature marimba for himself. Sofia got a beautiful, ornate photo album to put some of her Costa Rica pictures in (she’ll have to pick her favorite 40 out of the thousand that she’s probably taken). Sofia also got some little things for her best friend, Bo, and their teacher, Ms. Crain. I wish I had students that thought to get me a souvenir when they went on vacation. That must be nice! I guess I should consider myself lucky when I have 4 intact tires every day after school. Such is the life of an inner-city high school teacher.

I love and I hate these days. These end-of-the-vacation days where you buy a lot of stuff. It’s fun because you get to pick out beautiful things for yourself and people you love. I hate it because after living very cheaply for six weeks, I’m suddenly pouring out money like a faucet. Or at least it feels that way. It’s not really that bad, but it’s always hard for a spendthrift like me.

Maritza got a suggestion for a good place for lunch, so we walked a block or so and ate a nice lunch at a little Columbian restaurant. We had five big plates of food and drinks for 4800 colones! Amazing.

Our little Columbian soda

Next we drove (it is so nice to have a car!) to a store called Universal, where we hoped to find a Costa Rican flag for a good price. Right beside Universal is the jewelry store where we needed to pick up the earrings. To avoid parking and make it quicker, I dropped Maritza and Cristina off and circled around. It took three slow loops before they were ready. Universal was out of flags and the earrings weren’t ready. But Cristina found some cool Costa Rican beads at Universal, so it wasn’t a complete waste.

It was around 2 by now, so we went back to the cedula place and got Cristina’s cedula. Like clockwork.

On the way to our next stop, we needed to get into the right lane, so Cristina stuck her head out the window and gestured that we needed to get over. The guy in the next lane sped up to keep us from getting in. Cristina yelled at him and he rolled down his window and yelled back at her. First he said something obscene in Spanish, then when he realized she spoke English, he pulled out all the stops. He started using every English profanity he could remember from watching movies, I’m sure. But his accent was thick and he sounded ridiculous. His favorite choice of insults sounded like foggy beach. Cristina yelled something to the effect of “You don’t even know what you’re talking about!” I had to hold her by the back of her pants to keep her in the car she was so livid. It was like when you have a dog in the car and you pass by a cat and the dog practically jumps out the window barking and trying to get at the cat. The ultimate joy in this whole experience was when it occurred to me how much the guy would hate it if we got into his lane one car ahead of him. So I gunned it forward to the next car, Cristina gestured kindly, and the guy let us in. As we drove on, you could still hear Profane Man yelling, “Foggy Beach! Moto-fogger!” We waved to him as we accelerated away. It was beautiful, or as beautiful as a profane shouting match can be.

Next, I dropped Cristina and Maritza off near La Casona, a big artisan’s shopping center similar to the artisan’s booths near the museum, just under one roof and a little pricier. They found a flag there and bought it. One more thing marked off our list.

We were done with San Jose but there was one more place we needed to go in Alajuela. It was late enough that Ramón would be home from work, so we went home first, dropped off all our goods, and picked up Ramón.

Just past the airport, there is a factory that makes wood products, the kind of stuff that the vendors sell at the market we were at earlier. This particular factory is the only place we know of that makes these tiny little tea and coffee sets, about dollhouse size. They make nice gifts for children, especially the children/parents at Desert Marigold, who perhaps appreciate wood toys more than the average person. We made it to the Sr. y Sra. Ese factory at 5:15. They closed at 5:30, so we just squeaked in. We wound up keeping them there 30 minutes late, and we bought more than we intended to, but we got some great stuff.

On the way home, we went to a KFC drive-thru for dinner. Ramón ordered from the back seat and we had a good chuckle because he forgot some of his Spanish. He was asking for chicken, instead of pollo, and the guy didn’t know what he was talking about.

Las Musas

Jen made pancakes for everyone, which was a nice way to start the day. The original plan was to go to the beach today. The Sheridans live about an hour from some nice Pacific beaches. Sofia was looking forward to going to “her” beach again, as she had gone there with the Sheridans earlier during our trip.

After sunscreening, we got in the cars and headed off. We didn’t get very far before we hit bumper-to-bumper, fully-stopped traffic. And it didn’t seem to be moving much. We could see miles ahead of us thanks to the curvy mountain roads, and the line of cars and trucks went on and on. After being stopped for nearly 20 minutes, and then barely poking along for a few more miles, we decided it was not worth the risk. In Costa Rica, you never know how long you might be stuck in traffic like this. Better to go to plan B before investing too much time in the slow traffic. And it’s not like there are other routes to take. This road was our only realistic choice.

We turned around and drove to the Sheridan's property where they will soon be building their dream house. I knew the views would be good, but I did not realize they would be so fantastic. Photos can't do it justice. They want to build an octagonal house to maximize the views as much as possible. I can't wait to stay with them again in a few years when the house will be finished!

This will be the view from the Sheridan's living room

Just down the street from the Sheridan's rental house is a recreational area called Las Musas. The park has a large pool, a kiddie pool, a big water slide, a playground, and best of all, a huge (natural) waterfall. It cost 1000 colones for each adult, Sofia and Alex were 500 each, Bella was free.

First we checked out the waterfall. None of us really felt up to climbing into the cold water at the base of the falls. The cold mist was enough. Back up at the pools, the kids had a great time riding the water slide. Isabella even went down once with me and twice with Cristina. I took a bit of video here, which I haven’t done much this trip. Now that we have a nice digital camera, it’s too easy to neglect the video camera. Even though my video camera is fairly compact, it’s still a bit more cumbersome than our little slip-in-the-pocket camera. But here I got some video, especially of everyone going down the slide. The batteries on the still camera actually died, so we mostly got video here. However, Sofia had her camera, so we still got plenty of stills.

There is also a restaurant at Las Musas, so after looking at their menu, Bill and I went up to get some lunch for everyone. They didn’t have some of the stuff that we wanted (no fried chicken, no chicken empanadas) but we got enough stuff to supplement the items Jen had brought.

Back at our picnic table we feasted on PBJs, French fries, fried yucca, cheese empanadas, tortilla chips and refried beans, and popcorn.

After getting our fill of the water play, we drove home and got showered. The Sheridans have two bathrooms. The bigger one has a gigantic shower that fit all five of us easily. The power went out for about 10 minutes, so we had to wait to have hot water.

I started working on dinner, with help from Jen and Cristina. We made oven-roasted garlic and herb chicken with chopped salad with creamy caper dressing. It turned out great. Jen made a pot of rice to go with it, and we had good, crusty bread from Mus Manni. The salad seemed to be a big hit with Bill. I thought the chicken was very good. Not amazing, but solid. It was the first time I made the recipe (from Rachael Ray’s book, of course). I’d make it again.

We had wanted to drive back to Pavas tonight, since early in the morning Cristina was going into San Jose to renew her cedula. The Sheridans offered for us to stay there a second night, but we thought it would be best to drive home after dinner. We timed things pretty well because by the time dinner was over, it was about 6 pm. We were all already showered, so we could just drive home and put the kids in bed.

Cristina drove home so Isabella wouldn’t be as tempted to nurse. That usually works in Arizona, but this time she wasn’t going for it. She cried pretty much the whole ride home, which took about an hour. It was rainy and dark and one of the windshield wipers fell off, but we made it home safe and sound.

San Ramon

Maritza made an executive decision: we should just take the car without the spare instead of waiting and waiting and losing more time. To save time and gas, we decided to pack quickly for our overnight and all ride with Chino to pick up the car.

By leaving for San Ramon from Ricardo’s house, where we picked up the car, we probably saved about 30 minutes of car time. It only took about 45 minutes to get to San Ramon. We had a little trouble following the directions Bill gave us, but we found their house. The Sheridans are renting a house while they build (or make ready to build) their own house.

After getting a tour of their house, we drove into town to eat lunch at one of their favorite sodas. I offered to cook dinner for them, so Jennifer and Cristina went to the grocery store and the rest of us went home. Bill and I watched the rest of the soccer game and talked about everything from furniture to satellite TV. Isabella played nicely with the girls and Alex watched one of our DVDs (Tarzan) in Jen and Bill’s room.

When the girls returned, we decided that after eating such a big lunch late in the day that I would cook for them the following day. So for tonight, we just made a light supper of fresh fruit salad, avocado, and tomato. We also ate the leftover arroz con pollo from lunch.

Exploring the sugar cane field behind the Sheridans' house

Bill and I took the kids on a little hike around their property. We decided against going on the “jungle” path, since I had Isabella in the sling. One of their neighbors has some cows and horses, so we checked those out.

Playing in the rain

After getting the kids to bed, Jennifer’s massage therapist Edgar came over to give Cristina a much-needed massage. It didn’t seem that we would get back to Nelly’s for her to give Cristina a massage, so Edgar was the next best choice. Edgar is fairly new at massage therapy, but he’s fully trained and gaining experience with every job. He gave Cristina a two-hour massage for 10,000 colones (20 bucks)! Jen has a massage table, so while they did their thing in the living room, I sat with Jen and Bill on the back porch. We chatted quietly and listened to the night, which included the amusing sounds of a distant Karaoke bar.

After the massage, Cristina had a cup of hot tea and then we went to bed.

Fourth of July party

We got up, dressed in our patriotic garb, and headed to the Cerviceria in Alajuela for the annual Fourth of July party, sponsored by the American Colony Committee. The party started in 1977 and has grown every year. We went in 1998 with Damian and Lisa, and at that time it was at the U.S. Ambassador’s residence. Now it’s at the Cerviceria, which is basically a huge fairgrounds owned by the Imperial Beer Company.

Thousands of people attend every year. You have to be a U.S. citizen (they checked our passports very carefully at the gate) or the immediate family of a U.S. citizen to attend. So there were a lot of Ticos there, but there are all kinds of Gringos there as well. There are tourists who are just here for short vacations as well as Gringos that have lived here for years and years. Some are pensionados (people who retire to Costa Rica and live off their pensions from the States). Some have family members who are Costa Rican…like me. And some Gringos live and work here. We even met an archaeologist that studied at Arizona State University! He works here and is married to a Tica. It’s neat to hear the different stories of where people are from and what brings them to Costa Rica. Everyone has a story. I was watching the kids ride a ride and the guy beside me told me he moved here eight years ago from the Michigan area with his family to do missionary work.

The grounds are filled with tents offering all kinds of free stuff. Free Imperial beer, cotton candy, Coke products, popcorn, cole slaw from KFC, frozen yogurt from TCBY, coffee and cappuccinos from Café Britt, bagels, and of course hot dogs. Thousands and thousands of hot dogs handed out in a continuous stream from a huge tent. There are tons of games for the kids, like water balloon tosses, 3-legged races, sack races. There’s a fishing type game, where the kids put their fishing line over a wall and “catch” some goodies. There was square dancing (oddly enough, all the dancers were Costa Rican!).

About midway through the festivities, everything shuts down for the flag-raising ceremony. Two marines in full dress raise the flag, then everybody sings the anthem and says the pledge of allegiance. In respect for our host country, the Costa Rican anthem was played first.

Cristina wore a Florida Gators T-shirt and Gator visor. I had on my 9/11 Gator shirt with the American flag (sold at the Swamp the week after 9/11 for everyone to wear to the following football game, to show solidarity). We saw many other Gators at the party, more Gators than Seminoles I’m proud to say.

While Isabella was swinging, a photographer from the Tico Times (largest English language newspaper in Latin America) took some photos of her. We look forward to checking out this Friday’s Tico Times to see if her picture gets published.

Towards the end of the party (it’s starts at 8 am and is over at noon) we made our way towards the dance floor, in front of a live band that was playing a mix of rock, blues, and funk. They were really good. Those on the dance floor (including Ramón and Maritza) were having a great time “cutting the rug,” as we say in the South.

While the dance floor rocked, Alex and I were tossing a little rubber ball back and forth. Sofia joined in and it turned into a midified version of monkey-in-the-middle. A cute Tica (probably in her early 20’s) was hanging out at the Imperial booth where Alex was catching the ball. She started playing with Alex and getting him to throw her the ball. Pretty soon, she was in the thick of our game, playfully fighting to get the ball before Alex did. I jokingly told Alex later that he found a girlfriend at the party and he said vehemently “No I didn’t!” When I explained that she was kind of a friend and she was a girl, so she was a girlfriend, he bashfully conceded agreement.

Alex playing with his girlfriend

Ramon had had a good amount of beer so by the time we left, he was ready for a nap. In fact, after dancing like a college kid, he fell asleep on the dance floor as the stage was being dismantled and everyone was leaving. We kidded him heavily for that. The whole ride home with Chino, as he would nod off, Cristina would poke him in the ribs and say, “Wake up, Viejo!”

Back home, we chilled out. Stuffed on hot dogs and soda (or beer in Ramón’s case) we certainly didn’t need any additional lunch. We thought the Sheridans were going to experience their first Fourth of July party in Costa Rica, but they had some kind of appointment concerning their residency, so they didn’t make it. They did come by the house afterwards and got the scoop on the festivities.

While the Sheridans were there, we shared our new plan. Instead of going to the Guanacaste area for a few days, we would spend a night or two at the Sheridan’s house in San Ramon. They only live about an hour from a Pacific beach, so that could be a possibility. They also have a park with a waterfall right near their house. Plus, it would be nice to see where they live, and maybe go see the property they bought where they plan to build a house.

We found out that Ricardo was waiting to get a new spare tire for the car he was loaning us, but he wouldn’t be able to get it until after work at 5. So we would have to wait a little longer for a car.

Later that evening, we found out that Ricardo couldn’t get the tire before the parts place closed, so he’d try to do it the next day.

For dinner, we treated Ramón and Maritza to an Italian meal at Restaurant Ana, a place in San Jose we’ve eaten at before. It’s kind of pricey by Costa Rican standards, but the whole meal for 7 of us cost about what we pay at Olive Garden for the five of us. And this meal included desserts and coffee! Cristina wasn’t crazy about her pesto gnocchi, and Sofia’s ravioli was a bit undercooked (she likes the Yaki’s ravioli better!). But my lasagna was delicious. I even got a cappuccino for dessert.

Dinner at Restaurant Ana (Sofia's food was late arriving)

While we waited for Chino to pick us up, the kids and I played the statue game, where one person gets moved around into whatever pose the “artist” puts them in. I made Sofia into the statue of liberty (it was the Fourth of July) and I made Alex a monkey.

The Statue of Liberty

Another day of rest

Still no car.

Ramón went to work, Maritza went to school. We didn’t eat breakfast until close to 10. We made a pot of cheese grits and a big skillet of scrambled eggs with onions and peppers.

I found a little toy in a kitchen drawer. It came inside a loaf of bread (loaves of bread here often have little toys, like cereal does in the States). I gave it to Alex to put together. He and Cristina worked on it. It turned out to be a little Bimbo bread truck. Cute!

Sunday morning I had been woken up by Isabella. I turned on the TV in hopes that I could sleep a little longer and wound up watching Rachael Ray cook Flounder Francese with lemon spaghetti. I thought I’d cook that for dinner tonight, so I took the kids to Mas por Menos to get some stuff. We went to the bigger store, the one with the Papa John’s. I couldn’t find flounder, so I got some dorado fillets and some cazon, a fish which I did not recognize but it looked good.

The meal turned out pretty well, but the cazon was tough, almost the consistency of a tough pork chop. Not surprisingly, the more expensive dorado was good and tender. I should have splurged and got all dorado. Now I know.

After getting the kids to bed, I worked on my journal. Ramón had gotten a call from the mechanic and left. I didn’t even want to ask, because I might jinx it. A little while later, I heard a car parking on the porch. Ramon’s car! It does exist! One snag: the engine is running very rough and can only be driven around the neighborhood for the next few days. It will need to be tightened up and fine-tuned after a few days, which means it’s really not of much use to us. Looks like we’ll be calling Steven to try and rent a car for a few more days.

Luckily, Ricardo has an extra car, which just got out of the shop as well. He’s going to let us use that for our last mini-trip to Guanacaste. So we won’t have to rent again after all. I’ll pick it up in Heredia after the Fourth of July party tomorrow.

Note the hair pins in Sofia's hair. They're the ones we bought at Guayabo.

Ceviche

After such a busy and tiring three days, I looked forward to being able to take it easy today. Catch up on my journals, maybe take a nap.

We returned the rental car on time and everything was fine. I’m now totally satisfied with this experience. It’s always a little nerve-wracking to rent here because the roads are so bad and you never know if the rental company is going to charge you for some tiny ding caused by a flying rock or insane pothole. But this one-man upstart operation was very reasonable and you certainly cannot beat the price. I still can’t believe we rented an Isuzu Rodeo, in excellent condition, for $30 a day.

The guy that owns the rental business, Steven, gave us a ride home. He’s had the business for about 6 months now. He got started in the rental business with a gringo from Illinois that he worked for, but the guy didn’t put much into maintaining the cars, so there were a lot of break-downs. Customers started complaining and even taking legal action. Steven hated this aspect and decided to start his own rental business. His fleet currently has about 8 cars and he’s planning on adding a couple with more seating (like 7 or 8 passenger). If anyone is planning a trip to Costa Rica and will be renting a car, contact me and I’ll hook you up with Steven. Good guy.

We took it easy the rest of the afternoon. I even got my nap.

Around 5 pm, Chino drove us all to the home of Juan Pablo and Hisela, the sister of Carolina (Ricardo’s wife…I know, it’s confusing). Juan Pablo made ceviche (seh-VEE-cheh) with cobia. Ceviche is an appetizer popular in Latin America consisting of raw fish marinated in citrus (usually lime) juice. The action of the acid in the lime juice "cooks" the fish, thereby firming the flesh and turning it opaque. Onions, tomatoes and green peppers are often added to the marinade. Only very fresh fish should be used for this dish. Ramón said low-oil fish like cobia or shark is best. I read that red snapper, pompano, and sole are the most common fish for ceviche. I was first introduced to it in 1994 when Ramón ate it during our beach trip. When he described it to me, I thought it sounded disgusting, but I’d lately been wanting to try it. So tonight I got my chance. It was good. Not lick-the-bowl-clean-and-beg-for-more good, but tasty enough. Juan Pablo just made one big bowl for everyone, so I only ate one small bowl of it. I was proud that Sofia tasted mine and wanted a bowl of her own, which she ate. Alex took one bite and decided he didn’t really like it.

The “party” lasted a couple of hours and Hisela’s parents, who also live in Pavas, drove us home. Cristina crashed with Isabella and I stayed up with Ramón and Maritza for a while. Maritza is taking an English class, so Ramón and I helped her with her homework. It was fun. She was supposed to describe these drawings of four different people. We were making suggestions and couldn’t help but throw lots of inappropriate but creative details in there, most of which I can’t print here. For example, one picture showed a woman writing a letter. The typical description would probably be something like “The woman is 35 years old. She is of average weight. She likes to write.” We were making suggestions like “The woman is of average weight, but she has a tendency to gain during her period. She fancies young men. She particularly enjoys writing submissions to lurid magazines.” Of course Maritza didn’t understand everything we were suggesting and was mostly blowing us off for just being silly, and rightfully so. But we did convince her to write that one of the people, a sharp-dressed man in a suit with a cell phone and a laptop, was gay. Her teacher will probably get a kick out of that.

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.