De caballos y caballeros
Trip Start
Aug 08, 2008
1
9
42
Trip End
Oct 12, 2008
Santa Elena,
Costa Rica
Saturday, September 6, 2008
We lucked out on the weather today. It was partly sunny, dry but not too warm, with just the faintest breeze. We planned the tour for the morning in hopes of avoiding the rain, which usually hits in the afternoon this time of year, but we weren't expecting it to be this nice. Our guide told us that, up here in the Monteverde rainforest, the seasons are reversed; the wet season in San Jose (and Puriscal) is the not-so-wet season here, while the dry season there is the very wet season here. So, although we're getting a lot of rain back at the home base, we couldn't have picked a better time to come here.
Our guide was definitely worth the extra we paid on top of admission; we wouldn't have even noticed half the things he pointed out to us, much less known what they were
The gang
. He found several "walking sticks," a type of insect that blends in perfectly with its surroundings, as it looks exactly like a twig. I don't know how he could see them, and I'm especially impressed that predators with less developed eyes can ever pick them out. He also pointed out some abandoned hummingbirds' nests, a glass-winged butterfly (their wings are completely transparent except for a blue ring around the edges), a flower that looks like Goldie Hawn's inflated pucker in The First Wives' Club, called Labios de Prostituta, a group of howler monkeys high up in the trees (and the giant white testicles on the alpha male), and, perhaps most entertaining, a Peccary pig named Charlie, who is something of a pet at the reservation. Charlie took an immediate liking to me, apparently because he enjoys the smell (and taste!) of the bug spray with which I doused my bare ankles, and followed us around the entire tour. It got old after about ten minutes, especially when he came back to lick me and burrow between my knees after rolling in the mud, and brought a pack of horseflies with him. I tried to discourage his affections, to no avail, but I was able to avoid him by darting around the others, which confused him. I would have thought a pig would be too smart to lose that easily. But I guess when you make a habit of licking a neurotoxin of the ankles of tourists, you don't stay sharp for long.Some fun facts about the forest we visited: the area had previously been cleared to create pasture for cattle, but reforestation efforts began in 1977
I told you I'd represent for the Sox. Werd.
. Money from tourists visiting the reserve supports Santa Elena High School, while the school helps maintain it. The forest is also home to many of the 40,000-60,000 species of mushrooms native to Costa Rica. According to our guide, every one of those species is edible, but some only once (har, har.)Horseback Riding
Sabine's Smiling Horses was recommended by Lonely Planet, and is one of those gems the Don't-Call-Me-A-Tourist tourist dreams about. The small stable is uncrowded and open for last-minute reservations, because Sabine refuses to give the local hotels a commission for recommending her services. Yet I can't imagine having a better experience with her shady competitors. She asked each of us about our riding experience, then paired us with the horses she knew so well on that basis. She's a pretty good matchmaker. Alyssa's horse, Osca, was the spunkiest of the bunch, while Caitlyn's horse took the lead most of the time. Alli's horse was a rebel and apparently very hungry; we tried to follow Sabine's explicit instructions not to let the horses graze on the trail, but Alli's horse was having none of that. Chispa, my horse, was a bit slow, but generally well-behaved. She only snapped at Luna Azul, Lydia's horse, apparently because Luna's a bit of a bully herself
We're really up among the clouds
. I was struck by how intelligent the horses seemed. We were taking some pretty rough trails, and they seemed to be really looking ahead, forming strategies for how best to navigate the terrain. I felt bad about not letting Chispa eat anything, especially as there was nothing to drink and she must have been getting thirsty, so I let her grab a mouthful when we were stopped. I didn't want to fall behind everyone else, though, so I pulled up on the reins whenever she tried to grab a bite on the go, and soon she'd figured out my terms and stopped trying to eat on the run. Mostly, though, the horses seemed to ignore our attempts to speed them up or get them to turn; they only had eyes for our guide Juan and his whip.
Chasing Waterfalls
We rode our horses down the mountain to a place we could tie them, then had a short hike to the waterfall. The path was a narrow, twisting, muddy ledge, and I was terrified of falling. We passed the stream that was going to become the waterfall on the way down, and it smelled so fresh and clean. Then we got down to the ledge where the water was pooling at the bottom of the cataract, stripped to our swimsuits, and splashed around
What a view!
. I definitely should have worn my Crocs for this; they would have protected my feet as I scrambled across the rocks. Somehow I managed not to kill, or even cut myself. We took a few pictures, then just as the rain started (such convenient timing!) we threw our clothes and shoes back on and hoofed it back to the horses, then rode them a short distance back to the stable. Back at the hostel, I had my first hot shower since leaving the U.S., and it was glorious.Downtime
Diego, a less-batshit-crazy hostel employee, makes jewelry "to help pay for his college education" (sure...) but in any case he does nice work. I picked up a necklace woven of brown thread with a citrine (sunstone?) pendant for fifteen dollars, and several of the others bought necklaces and bracelets. Anna got a custom job on the spot when she saw a large crystal sitting on his workbench that she just had to have as a necklace. I didn't bring any jewelry to Costa Rica because I was told it was inappropriate to wear to my volunteer placement and dangerous to wear when traveling, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Ditto for the injunction against revealing clothing ("dress like the local women," they said. Well, the local women often as not dress like streetwalkers, and the town isn't big enough to support that many hookers) that seems to be more of a guideline to prevent extremely showy behavior that might tarnish the reputation of the program, along the lines of telling us not to drink at all while in Puriscal
The waterfall
.We ate dinner at a restaurant called Morpho's; I think it was somehow connected to the butterfly garden. I ordered a vegetarian casado, a platter of comida tipico ticismo, typical Costa Rican food. So, more rice and beans, steamed squash, carrots and cauliflower, a salad I dressed with Lizano sauce, and some cheese and avocado I covered with hot sauce. Some of the other girls were getting sick of Costa Rican food; about half of them ordered spaghetti with marinara. I also ordered a Morpho's Sunset, a cocktail made with Cristalo, a rum made from sugarcane, and a few other liquors including, I think, Midori, and some fruit juices, garnished with a starfruit. I'd seen those before, in magazines like Martha Stewart Living, but I'd never eaten one. It was like a Granny Smith apple, only more intense (though the tartness may have been because it was underripe.)
I've been seeing a lot of milkshakes, ice creams, and juices made from something called guanabana, "sour sop" in English. I'd never heard of it before, but the guanabana-flavored treats I've tasted have a bit of a lemony flavor. Gustav took me to the supermarket to show me what one looked like whole, but they didn't have any. I had to wait until I got home to look it up online.
We watched the soccer match between Costa Rica and Suriname at the bar we'd visited the night before. Costa Rica won, 7-0. It was pretty crazy. A few of the girls stayed out later, but Sarah, Tricia, Alyssa and I headed back to the hostel to make popcorn and chill with our new animal and human friends.
