Costa Rica - Week Two in the Nicoya Peninsula

I've often thought that different beaches and their gateway towns have different personalities, despite having sand and salt water in common. This was the case in the Nicoya Peninsula of Costa Rica, a northern region with a string of beaches on the Pacific Ocean, where our family spent the second week of vacation.

After spending a week in the Osa Peninsula (see last post), the ten members of our family folded ourselves into two small planes that landed onto an airstrip tucked into a swath of jungle. We immediately felt the hot and dry air (contrasting with the humidity of the Osa) upon exiting our planes.

The road to Carrillo, where we had rented a house, was dusty and bumpy. Our van driver expertly avoided the large iguanas sunning themselves in the road and described points of interest, such as beaches used by professional surfers or thousands of nesting turtles. We learned that every beach in Costa Rica is open to the public (and that actor Mel Gibson had been prevented from privatizing a nearby beach).

Playa Carrillo

 

Beaching It

The house was a short walk from Playa Carrillo. This half moon beach has remained pristine because its shoreline is largely protected from development. Groves of coconut trees rim the wide, flat, and hard-packed sand, providing ample shade.

The mellow surf made it an ideal gathering place on New Year’s Day and Eve for Costa Rican families from the Capitol, San Jose, or interior jungle villages. Extended families gathered around picnic blankets and swung or snoozed in colorful hammocks strung between trees. Kids played in the surf or dug sand castles. Men of all ages (including toddlers and youth) played animated pick up soccer games. Women walked the beach in deep conversation and older men talked over card games or beers under the palms. Social young adults buzzed around on motorcycles.

The beach became quieter after the holiday, and our family spent many hours walking, running, boogie boarding or watching the sunset. The kids sampled Costa Rican-style “slushies,” prepared by pouring sweet and condensed milk over flavored ice.

Boating
Phil, Jim and the three boys went sportfishing off Carrillo Beach on a boat called the Kingfisher (captained by the owner of the house we were renting). Although hoping to bring home a Mahi Mahi for dinner, they found excitement in reeling in a Sailfish (estimated at 150-pound, but released) and a few small bonitos that the kids caught. The other thrill was watching the pods of hundreds of Common Dolphins, and Spinner Dolphins, who jump from the water, providing spinning displays around the boat.

Playa Samara

Shopping and Dining
The next beach over was Playa Samara, which offered a completely different scene. It was bustling with international tourists who patronized street vendors selling macramé jewelry, handmade hammocks or coconut water. This beach was lined with rustic bungalows, bars serving seviche and fruit drinks, small hotels and massage tables.

As you can imagine, Playa Samara was the place to be for New Year’s Eve festivities of fireworks and bonfires. We weren’t surprised (or that disappointed), however, when we couldn’t muster up the energy to go out late night after a day in the sun. We made up for it with near-perfect dining experiences other nights at Latina, Gusto's and La Garta, our last night enjoying tuna tartare and pitchers of Mojito's (made with rum, mint, lime and simple syrup).

Ziplining
A highlight of the vacation was ziplining above Samara with Wingnuts Canopy Tours. Jim, John, Phil, Carson and Austin and I harnessed up to 12 cables that zoomed through canopy tunnels or past views of the ocean. From our platforms, we spotted wildlife, including a group of Coatis (look like large minks with small raccoon faces), a Peccari and a large iguana on the next tree.


Our witty guide, Freddie, co-founded the tour business 14 years ago and was proud of the construction of the platforms and cable lines by himself and another local. He and the other guide made us feel completely safe and at home in the treetops.

Freddie was knowledgeable about Costa Rican’s forests, not surprising given his family belongs to the native population, which represents only about 2% of all Costa Ricans.  Freddie’s ancestry gave him an innate connectedness with the forest, too, illustrated through one story he told where he once had a "sense" that something was watching him while giving a canopy tour. He turned around an see an Ocelot lounging in the crux of a nearby tree.

Freddie was also in tune with trends that leads him to be concerned about the impact of climate change on the rainforest. He pointed out flowering trees showering yellow blossoms on the trails, and said that the trees used to flower in March (February at the earliest). He also said that the rainy season has shifted from 6 months to 2 or 3.

Playa Guionnes

Surfing
We went to Playa Guionnes to surf. The town of Nosara was referred by the Californian brother of our good friend, Grant, and was worth the hour-long meandering drive through the countryside up the coast (in fact, we did it twice).

An eclectic mix of people seem to be drawn to this town: One part juice bar-frequenting, yoga or wellness-focused (the Harmony Hotel is an upscale, but under-stated setting with food and spa); One part van-living, souvenir-selling gypsy (I bought some jewelry from a Patagonian woman that she carved out of wood from the Cocobolo tree, native to the local Guanacaste region); One part dedicated and accomplished surfer or surf instructor, complete with sculpted core and bleached and tangled hair (there are at least a dozen surf schools to choose from). One part high-end gallery owner, savvy lodge owner or popular restaurateur (the Tuscan Lodge has the prefect post-surf fish tacos and Robin’s is the place to go for ice cream).

The first session at the Safari Surf School had John, Phil and I with Enrique, who has instructed for 12 years and seems pretty rooted in the community with his plans to build a public skate park on his property next year. Austin, Carson and Jackson were matched up with Louis, a super-friendly surfer

Enrique’s technique was different than the one that Pollo taught us on Pan Dulce beach in the Osa Peninsula, but John and I liked it better (works more for the inflexible). He was terrific in moving us through a progression. He would say to me, “One more wave where I push you and then you paddle!” Then he would add something for me to think about with each wave, until I was catching my own.

Louis was the same way and had the kids popping up quickly. From his orientation on Pan Dulce beach, Jackson was catching his own waves from the get go (he skateboards at home). It was cool to look around and see us all bobbing around or riding different places in the surf.

Phil, the boys and I went back a second day and after the lesson kept the boards until our previously neglected cores were tired or we'd had enough whitewash pummeling (called “saltwater cocktails” or “the washing machine”). Enrique ended both lessons by putting his surfing dog on a board.

Base Camp in Costa Rica

Our house, Villa Oasis, was the perfect base for our beach excursions. It fit us comfortably and a small pool allowed for rowdy games of Marco Polo. The owner, Jackie, was great in arranging smooth travel arrangements and nailing recommendations for the perfect adventure or restaurant. 

Although we missed the wildlife immersion of Bosque, a troupe of fourteen Howler Monkeys visited the backyard towards the end of our stay. They provided entertainment and awe on our last night. Two mothers crawled around the canopy with inquisitive babies on their backs. An older monkey with cataracts came close bawling for a banana (Phil had left one out the night before, although we aren’t sure who ate it- he only had a Granny Smith apple this time...). The males vigorously consumed leaves on the trees, as if there would be never be food again.

Base Camp in Vermont

I was sad to leave Costa Rica. Not because we would return to snow and single digit temperatures, or back to jobs and school and routines like cooking dinner. But, I came to really connect with this country. Sure, the poverty was hard to see, the subsistence living of many in shabby housing with kids playing in the dirt. Sure, we had the luxury of two full weeks to immerse ourselves in the culture, travel the country and create unique memories. Sure, I was much in need of a break from my packed, task-driven daily pace, and easily took to the let-it unfold-on-Costa-Rica-time way of being (not doing).

But, I truly came to care for culture and the place. Costa Rica is a really special place in the world and I hope we can find our way back before too long. I better start working on my Spanish now.

Costa Rica - Week One in the Osa Penisula

  

Jungle Run
I let out a surprised shout, but it was only a Morpho butterfly that had startled me out of my reverie during a run in the Costa Rican jungle. It's iridescent blue wings fluttered erratically in the trail ahead (movement designed to avoid being eaten). I was running alone on the Zapatero Trail (meaning "shoemaker" in Spanish and named for the massive trees with "feet" or buttresses that keep them stable in the shallow soil) and was not surprised that something so graceful would startle me. The omnipresent vulnerable feeling I had in the jungle was due to the knowledge that I was surrounded by things that could be watching me or could cause me harm.



First, there was the puma, a stealthy cat that was recently seen nearby. I was comforted by the fact that there had not been an incident in the 22 years that Bosque del Cabo - the eco-lodge we were staying in - had operated. There was also plenty of better tasting food than me in the jungle. We had spent the week wanting to spot a puma - or one of its relatives, like the Jaguarundi or Ocelot - that we knew roamed this private reserve and the nearby national parks of the Osa Penisula.



There was the viper, a seven-foot long venomous snake that could be resting in any of the hollow logs of decomposing fig trees that I passed. With every stride, I diligently scanned the path for any number of resident snakes that might slither my way - or even worse - resemble a tree root in its stillness. Like the puma, I knew a snake wouldn't want to have anything to do with me - unless I stepped on it.

There was the trailside tree with long poisonous thorns that could be a hazard if I slipped on the red, clay-like soils, that could get slick from frequently passing rains.



But after quickening my step briefly, I relaxed into this feeling of unease. It was slightly exhilarating, this sense of risk juxtaposed against the reward of being in this remote, wild place. Alertness allows you to see and hear things. The deep, thick green of the forest. A family of Collared Peccaries (visualize small pigs with porcupine quills) nosing the underbrush for food. A troupe of Howler Monkeys peering down at me from the canopy in curiosity. The way the trail dipped and rose and twisted through primary and secondary forest.

But running is not the way to explore the jungle. Movement in the jungle should be slow (the two or three-toed sloth being the model mammal here) and observant, not just to be kind to the body (as the 100% humidity can make even the healthiest lungs behave asthmatically), but rather to intellectually absorb the experience of being in one of the most biodiverse places on earth. Only in stillness can a visitor notice the rising cacophony of the sundown cicadas. Only in slowness can a visitor spot the emerald green stripes of the Gulfo Dulce Poison Dart Frog. Only by stopping trailside, can one spot the brilliant blue, yellow and green wings of the Trologan (?).

Breaking down the secrets of this vast forest is Philip, the biologist in residence at Bosque Del Cabo. Until I experienced it, it was hard to imagine that his 4 - hour tropical forest ecology walk could only scratch the surface of what there is to understand about this forest. After hearing Philip's seemingly endless stories of the interconnected nature of the flora and fauna (for instance, how keystone species such as wasps and fig trees are mutually reliant upon each other for survival and subsequently many mammals of the forest are reliant on the copious production of figs), we all agreed that a version of this walk should be mandatory for anyone visiting the rainforest.



I was told by Joci (who had taken the walk a day before me) to be "prepared to have my mind blown". One example came in the form of deep respect for the diligence and job dedication of the leaf cutter ant. Any of the following were reason enough:

1. Each ant expends the daily energy that it would take a human to run 2-3 marathons a day, at the pace of a 3-4 minute mile, carrying 3-5 times their weight, up a mountain.
2. Three castes of ants coordinate to retrieve leaf matter and bring it to the nest, with roles that chew up the leaf into small pieces, carry the small pieces on backs, and ride on top of the leaf to fight off parasites along the way.
3. Ants have a sophisticated way of "communicating" by touching antennas to pass messages along the chain of working ants.
4. The nest is highly organized, including chambers for food and exits for waste, and the hierarchy of the many castes, headed up by a queen ant who controls everything, such as whether to heighten the reproduction of soldier ants if there is a threat to the nest or to order a mass killing of the soldier ants when they are no longer needed.
5. How ants are what you call a "super organism" in that they cannot operate as individuals, but only as part of a colony and each understands its specialized contribution to the collective as determined by their caste. 

We also learned to fear the army ants, which we witnessed crossing the trail in a swarm en masse, seeking any insect in its path. We watched spiders and beetles scurrying in an attempt to escape, only to be overtaken. Evidently, they can overtake a bungalow, too, and it is best to get lost or else get bitten in a nasty way.

Philip described other fascinating forest ecology dynamics, such as the ongoing competition for light, the defense mechanisms of plants that mimic disease or damage to avoid being eaten, and how the forest is in a continuous state of change. 

But he became most passionate when he described the distressing danger to the rainforests from industrial harvesting. He did not mince words in stating his disappointment in the international politics that have not cultivated economic alternatives to natives of rainforest-rich countries or to ensured that investments are made in conservation when commercial uses, like medicines or cash crop foods (like mangoes or bananas), benefit corporations. He said the United States under George Bush Senior was the only country in the world that vetoed an international agreement that would have prevented Ecuador from allowing their forests to be decimated.

He described how it doesn't take long for soils to get to an end point of being so stripped that it can never again support flora, pointing to places like Africa where the land has become a hard brick as far as the eye can see. This is a global problem, he told us, and if we don't act we'll face a tipping point that the next generation will have to live with. "70% of cancer-fighting medicines come from species found in the rainforest," he said, "why would be stay on track to eliminate half the world's species by the end of the century."

Eco-tourism 

Ten of us spent two weeks in Costa Rica over the Christmas and New Year's holiday: Phil, me and our kids, Austin and Carson; Phil's parents (Jim and Hebe); Phil's sister, Jocelyn, her husband, John, and kids, Jackson and Lexie.

Phil's walk and our experience in the rainforest has sparked conversation about how we might do something to "save the rainforest" or curb the climate change that is shifting populations, such as the 7,000 species of butterflies found here. It is obvious that plane fuel is one of the largest contributors to carbon in the atmosphere, so should we fly less? Probably. But I also counter that against the good I hope we've done by visiting this place.

Eco-tourism is one of the top 5 industries in Costa Rica and to some degree we reward entrepreneurs like Phil & Kim Spier of Basco del Cabo who have invested everything (capital and passion) into conserving this wild place so generations can experience what we have. Our kids are old enough to understand they are seeing something unique and I imagine it will help shape how they view the world.

Ariel View

The 6 or 10 seat planes we took across the country tested my comfort level of being airborne. It didn't help that when we were serpenting slightly down the runway, Phil noted that he though the "pilot" was in training. Sure enough, I watched the two "captains" consulting each other. Ascending to 10,500 feet from San Jimenez, I distracted myself from the turbulence by searching for dolphins over the gulf, studying the fruit and coffee plantations that make a patchwork quilt of the coast or following the winding dirt roads along steep mountain ridges.


Bosque Del Cabo

Our base camp for the first week was an eco-lodge called Bosque del Cabo, a lovely place of 12 or so bungalows within 800 acres of conserved rainforest. Our rooms were open-aired (we can tell stories about close calls with scorpions in discarded clothing, geckos in beds and gigantic luna moths flapping at lights), as well as outdoor showers and toilets. The lodge grounds are tropical gardens of trees - some fruit-bearing (limes, mangoes, coconuts, bananas), others flower-bearing (hibiscus, plumeria (frangipani)) and leafy shrubs (manglillo). Everything was frequented by copious birds and butterflies.

Morning Wake Up Call

The Howler Monkeys started their calls every morning about 5am. Evidently, troupes start the day establishing their territory with other troupes. The Howlers that surrounded our bungalow would let out a daily drone that a family poll said resembled either a jet engine starting up, demonic gorillas, or a pack of wild barking dogs. 

We spent alot of time during the week watching with fascination the three out of four types of monkeys from this region: the Howlers, the white faced Carputins and the Spider Monkeys. The Howlers mostly ignore humans, but one day I was on a hike with Phil, Austin, Carson and Jackson and we witnessed a group of Howlers that were agitated at several Spider Monkeys that got too close. 

The Spider Monkeys are very curious and would mostly watch us, unless they were adolescent males who would get frisky in a harmless way, tossing down sticks and nuts. One time, Phil, Jocie and I stopped during a run and were cracking up at one monkey who used his tail to hold himself upside down and was using his hands and feet to wrestle a widowmaker that he intended to toss our way (he was unsuccessful).

Finding monkeys was a highlight of the trip. One day, Jack and I watched a family above our heads: a mother with a baby on her back, a juvenile and a male.

Phil and I taking in the sunset on the Pacific Ocean from Casa Miramar

The reading nook

Jim bringing a bottle of wine up the trail to our bungalow

The grounds between bungalows

The dining room with mahi mahi and pineapple salsa on the menu

Lexi in front of Casa Bamboo

Carson on the bed (and Jocie in the hammock below) at Casa Manglillo

The view of the Gulf from one of Bosque's trails

Joci and Phil have a frozen drink at the Tico bar (Ticos are the name used for local Costa Ricans)


Paddle, Paddle, Paddle!

The water was 85 degrees the day we went surfing on Pan Dulce beach, located on the Gulf side of the Peninsula. Pollo, the local who runs the surf school, reviewed some introductory techniques and a sequence of motions for when it was time to "ride the wave".

After practicing on the beach, we all took a board to the water. Pollo and another instructor took the kids (Austin, Carson, Jackson, Lexi) and several others motioned for the parents (Jocelyn, John, Phil and me) to paddle out. Shallow enough to stand, my instructor held my board steady until he saw a good wave approaching. "Ok, lady," he said as he gave me a good push, "paddle, paddle, paddle!" When I heard, "now get up!", I pushed up my body, planted my back foot and replaced front hand with other foot. The waves were slow and forgiving and within a few tries I was upright and surfing towards beach.


The waves on our beach were perfect for beginners, and we all had success that day. A few beaches away, we knew that more advanced surfers were on the Matopolo break. This gem of a surfer's beach was remote but those that came seemed to stay awhile as evident by the bohemian surf camps lining the Beach Access Road. Those looking for more luxury accommodations than
tents and makeshift kitchens, had their choice between numerous brightly colored bungalows with names like Casa El Sol or Surfer's Paradise

Explorations

At low tide, we visited the coconut-littered beach via the Pacific Trail by descending an 800 step trail from the lodge. We scrambled over the rock formations of tide pools, dodging skittering crabs, spotting hermit crabs and sea urchins.

Although the ocean was too rough for swimming, we refreshed our salt-coated bodies by immersing in tide pool "jacuzzi tubs" or gulping mouthfuls from fresh springs cascading off the cliffside.

Walking the suspension bridge to the tropical gardens 

A spider monkey named "Sweetie" took a liking to Phil when we visited the animal sanctuary that rescues, rehabilitates and then releases mammals and birds

  

Searching for dolphins while traversing the gulf and birding while in the mangrove forests. Our guide tried to spot a Tree Boa snake for us (but was unsuccessful)

A day of sport fishing for the "boys" (Jim went, too) where the catch was a Roosterfish.

John, Joci and Lexi went horseback riding through forest and beach

We all sought out waterfalls along Bosque's many trails in the heat of the afternoon to cool off