Costa Rica
Tropical beach at Montezuma, Costa Rica
Tuesday October 5th 1999 - Thursday October 14th 1999
At the Costa Rican border, we had no problems in entering the country - we didn't as feared need to show onward tickets, which of course we didn't have; nor did we have to demonstrate the possession of sufficient funds, which was rather handy. We changed $50 into colones and then caught a Nicabus to San Jose for $6 and five hours. As we drove into San Jose I was awash with emotion, having finally made it to the country about which I had heard so much all of my life. My first impression, one which was not altered over the course of events, was that CR is a very green place and very beautiful to boot. The bus was air conditioned, a great relief from the humid heat which had caused me to sweat so much that I smudged the tourist entry card we had to fill in at the border.
We reached San Jose and tried to find out where we were, as San Jose has many different bus terminals. A taxi driver immediately accosted us, before we'd even had a chance to unload our luggage from the bus, and wanted to take us to a hotel costing "only $10 a person". We told him that we knew of a hotel where we wanted to stay, and asked for information as to where we were, showing him the map of the city which we'd been carrying since we were in London four months ago. Together with his friends, he was utterly unable to locate the bus station on the map, which did not exactly fill us with confidence as to his navigational skills. We thought we could probably walk to the hotel (the laughably misnamed Gran Imperial) but without knowing where we were to start with, this could prove somewhat difficult. In the end we opted to take a taxi. I tried to insist that the taxi driver use the taximeter, and he agreed; it was only when we started moving and he refused to switch it on that I realised I'd been lied to again. He wanted 500 colones (1.75 dollars) for a fairly short journey through town. In the end I accepted this with a certain lack of good grace.
We arrived at the hotel to find a large number of international travellers (a good sign, usually) in a large, somewhat run-down place where very few of the rooms had external windows. Still it was cheap (in Costa Rican terms at any rate - just over 8 dollars for a double room) and well situated for the main bus terminals, and the communal showers and toilets were clean. We decided to go for it with minimal delay. The staff were also friendly.
Fergus in San Jose, capital of Costa Rica
On our first day in San Jose, we ate at the hotel after scouting around for cheaper places to eat - there weren't any. We were sitting on the balcony talking and eating when the girl sat next to us said "Nisva bila sigurna, ampak sva mislila da govorita slovensko". It turned out that she, Spela Cvar and her boyfriend, Gregor Repic, were on holiday in Costa Rica. We chatted for a while; I mentioned that I was planning to send some coffee to a friend in London (i.e. Paul) and also commented that there aren't too many Scots who speak Slovene. She commented that there had been one at her Faculty (FDV) and I told her that he was in fact the friend in London in question. It emerged of course that she had been one of Paul's students for a couple of years - small world, or what? They advised us to go to Montezuma, and gave us the number of a Slovene living in Alajuela near the airport who apparently was always pleased to "sprejeti Slovencev".
The next day we sought and found the student travel agency (whose address was given simply as 200 metres east of Pollo Kentucky) and arranged our tickets out of Costa Rica. We had originally planned to fly to Quito in Ecuador, but the airport there had been closed due to the imminent eruption of a rather large volcano overlooking the city. We opted instead to fly to Lima in Peru. We originally planned to fly via Panama, but it turned out that Veronika would need a visa at $45 (and taking a few days to be issued) even without ever leaving the airport, so we opted for a more expensive direct flight. Still, it was less than $200 each, which wasn't too bad.
Mission accomplished, we walked back into town, taking some pictures of San Jose on the way, and stopping off to buy some postcards, including one of a Costa Rican oxcart for my parents. We spent another night at the Gran Imperial and then headed on to La Fortuna.
We arrived at La Fortuna at 4:30 in the afternoon having caught a bus mid-morning and after having to walk for a bit as the bus was having grave difficulty in climbing one particularly steep and wet slope on the mountain road. We found the cheap but pleasant hotel which Spela and Gregor had recommended (La Posada, not mentioned in Lonely Planet) and within the hour we were on our way to a volcano tour at just over $10 each. Not bad, considering that the Kiwis on the tour with us had paid $18 each!
Volcan Arenal was amazing. The lava flows were hugely impressive, with red-hot rocks flying down the hillside with disturbing frequency and at incredible speeds. I'd always thought (I think because of the number of disaster movies I'd seen where the hero manages to do so) that it was possible to out-run lava flows. In the case of Arenal, that would clearly be impossible, as the rocks fell from the summit to the valley floor in a matter of seconds. Fortunately, there is an observation point at a safe distance from the inferno. The whole scene was supplemented by a large number of fireflies in the foreground and by clouds rolling in to the valley, completely hiding from view the bottom of the mountain and making the crater appear to float somewhat improbably in the sky.
In the thermal springs at La Fortuna
After spending an hour or more watching the lava, we drove on to Termae Baldi, a series of naturally heated springs where we bathed in four different pools with water at temperatures of 25, 35, 45 and 55 degrees centigrade. This was an excellent experience, and the highlight was standing under a small pressurised waterfall in the 25 pool which felt like a warm but thorough massage. Quite an experience.
Early the next morning we caught a bus to Tilaran, and after waiting there for a couple of hours, we changed buses for Santa Elena. We found a cheap hotel (Pension Sueno) where the owner initially tried to give us a room with shared bath for the same price as one with a private bath; in the end, we got the price reduced substantially to just under $7 a night. There was an American woman offering her services as a naturalist guide, but she instantly rubbed me up the wrong way. At first I wasn't sure exactly why, but I subsequently realised that it was a combination of the fact that, despite speaking only limited Spanish (not much if any better than mine) she kept on referring to "us" meaning Ticos (Costa Ricans), and the fact that the way she spoke, she wasn't talking to you so much as reciting to you - it was all rehearsed and rote, with no natural qualities to it at all; Ticos are very free with their smiles, and so was she, but it was obviously faked on her part.
In the end we decided to go to the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve ourselves without the (expensive) services of a guide, as we had been advised by the tourist information office that it was not a problem to wander around on our own. We caught yet another early bus (6:15 a.m.) to the reserve entrance and were the first people in that day. We walked around for something over 4 hours and saw many beautiful plants, a number of exquisite birds and a really large centipede. We also heard some animals in the undergrowth, but the greenery was so dense as to reduce visibility to a minimum. We both took many photos.
Tropical cloud forest at Monteverde
I wanted to check my email, but the cost was ridiculous in Santa Elena - $14 an hour!
The next morning (6 a.m.) we caught a bus to Puntarenas for the ferry to Paquera and the onward bus to Montezuma. The bus journey to Puntarenas was beautiful, as we passed over verdant mountain ranges on dodgy roads overlooking wonderful valleys. We found our way to the ferry terminal and had to wait for an hour and a half for the next boat. The journey across the Gulf was stunning, but alas my camera couldn't really do the scenery justice. We arrived in Paquera just before the rain and managed with only a little difficulty to get seats before the bus filled up. The journey to Montezuma was nothing special, but when we arrived, we were instantly glad we had come. Montezuma is a classic example of my idea of a tropical beach village - white sands, palm trees and beautiful flowers, and crashing waves. We found a beach hotel where our room looked out onto the sea, and were very pleased to find that it was less than $7 a night.
The first day we went to the beach in the late afternoon; for once I was much more anxious to hit the beach than Veronika, because I was suffering from the heat much worse than she was. The waves were big and we were both a bit reluctant to go in the water. Eventually we sought the advice of a Dutch couple sitting nearby, and they had both been swimming earlier, although perhaps swimming is not the best word. The waves were so powerful that, although we tried to ride them, they would simply throw us around - I got a number of friction burns from being thrown on to the sand, and Veronika kept losing her swimming costume. It was good fun though.
That night we ate cheese and ham sandwiches, as the only cheap restaurant in town was closed (since it was Sunday) and we were not going to pay $8 each for a pizza. We had intended to go for a beer with the Dutch couple but we were both too tired to do so. We passed out around 8 or 8:30 in the evening.
I woke up early the next morning (5:30) and walked onto the balcony to catch a glimpse of the spectacular early morning sunshine and to see two beautiful urracas perched on the ledge. I managed to catch a couple of photos before they flew away. After a couple of free coffees at the hotel, we went to the beach, intending to go for an early morning swim. However, the tide was much further out and the waves if anything were even bigger than they had been the day before, so we opted instead to paddle a little (even at knee depth, the current was extremely strong). We'd got back into town when I realised that I'd lost the hotel key somewhere on the beach. Fortunately, it was lying in the sand where we'd sat down, so I didn't half to pay the $17 charge for losing a key. We had intended to go to the waterfall for a swim in the afternoon, but I was not feeling great and I fell asleep for a couple of hours. For dinner we ate pasta which we cooked ourselves as the cheapest option, since the restaurants in Montezuma are expensive, even by Costa Rican standards.
Urraca, Montezuma
The next day (Tuesday) we went for a walk to try to find the local waterfall, since it apparently had a good place to swim. It had rained continuously all night, and the river was in full spate. We found the waterfall, but the current was way too strong for us to go swimming, so we had to be satisfied with taking photographs.
On Wednesday morning, we tried to catch a bus to San Jose. Unfortunately, the rains from the previous day meant that the road was impassable for buses. Luckily, the bus company sent a minibus to pick up passengers from Montezuma and take them on to the next village, where the road was in better condition. We caught the bus, which took us to the Paquera ferry terminal. We had to wait for an hour or so for the next ferry. The only incident of note on this part of the journey was an irascible and annoying American man who got on the bus half way to Paquera. He wanted to leave his luggage at the front of the bus (blocking the exit), but the driver insisted that he take it to the back of the bus. For some reason, he took this as a personal insult and spent the rest of the bus journey cursing the Costa Ricans as though they'd just deeply offended him ("Muchas gracias, motherf***ers" were his exact words). I told Veronika to remind me of this man next time I become irritated with something.
The ferry journey was uneventful if beautiful, and we got a lift with a couple of Americans (more friendly ones) who were driving to the Caribbean coast. We then caught the bus to San Jose, although only after a considerable delay - the ticket seller told us that the bus was leaving in five minutes, but it eventually left about an hour later. We arrived in San Jose in the pouring rain and caught a taxi back to the Gran Hotel Imperial. There we had a few beers and I met a couple of other Scots, one from Glasgow and the other from Inverness.
The next morning we caught a bus to the airport and tried to check in. The jobsworth at the check-in desk tried to insist that we buy another ticket out of Peru, claiming that we needed one to enter Peru in the first instance. He steadfastly refused to let us check in until I asked for his manager, who agreed with him and then eventually decided to call the Peruvian embassy, who told her that (as I'd insisted) the ticket we had from Buenos Aires to Australia was sufficient evidence of our plans to leave Peru.
The flight was ok, the food nothing special but edible. When we arrived in Lima, the immigration officer almost refused to let Veronika in, claiming that her visa was only good for three months and had been issued five months ago. After we insisted that the visa was still valid, she checked with her supervisor and relented. With more than a little difficulty, we had arrived in Peru.
Sunset at Montezuma