Joanna Biggar's Blog

Day 2

We all agreed the trip we’d been automatically booked to take, a hike through the National Park, wasn’t nearly as promising as a trip up the Sierpe (Serpent) River and into the mangrove swamps. With the incomparable Carlos, the inn manager and our personal guide, “captain” Didier who drove the boat and was also a terrific spotter, and Eduardo, the handsome young architect from San Jose who was moonlighting as assistant manager and official photographer, we had a crew to assure we’d made the right choice.

We were probably seven hours on those muddy waters in the motor boat with the blue canvas “roof,” listening to Carlos call out the wonders we were seeing as if he were a carnival barker. “Blue heron,” “blue heron,” he’d say about fifty times making sure we got it until we moved on to the next wonder. Mangrove tree crabs, stick birds, river hyacinths, owl moths, hawks, caymen nestled in the mud so you could hardly see them, crocs floating by like logs or baring their huge teeth on the banks, and on and on until something unexpected happened. Like Didier suddenly slowing the boat and wheeling it around to pursue what he had spotted — like the green parrot snake, a slim green beauty wrapped around a tree limb. Then there was the red mangrove boa, found only in those swamps, and all six or so feet of him sleeping off whatever he’d been up to the night before. Happily.

Day 1

Pulling up to the dock, climbing the path to the open-air reception/dining room of Aquila de Osa Inn and being handed a tropical drink wasn’t a bad way to start. Also the open view to the bay, framed by a thicket of tropical vines, flowers, trees wasn’t bad either. Nor were the antics of the capuchin monkeys running over the roof, trying to gain entrance to the kitchen to steal bananas, nor the dances of the over-sized iguanas running up and down the trees. Then the climb to our room was the reality check. A real climb. Later I read in a tourist book that people who aren’t fit weren’t advised to stay there.  Even our pal Thanasis, who claims to be part Greek mountain goat, figured out ways to avoid unnecessary trips.

2. The Rest of the Journey

The road from the airport was at least a road in theory. It was carved, like everything here, through the jungle and through swaths of the particularly persistenbt hibiscus, that dot the green with red everywhere. Eventually the other passengers get dropped off, the young European backpackers at Eco-Camp sites (and I don’t envy anyone camping in this 80+ and 90+ humidity), and we continued to bump along the “road” with only those in our party left, and one gent I called Surfer Dude, from, wouldn’t you know it, So. Cal.

I was surprised he seemed to be going with us all the way Continue Reading »

1.How We Got Here

Companions Thanasis, the Greek poet, Laurie &

Jim (both accomplished photographers) and Doug

and I, piled into two red taxis to leave the glories

of Lenny’s finca to head for the outskirts of  San

Jose and the “other” airport.  Happily early, we had

plenty of time for the essentials — coffee- and

checking in, which consisted of no bag checks, but

much bag weighing (30 lbs. max), then passenger

weighing with bags to determine who should sit

where in order to assist the plane in actually flying

upright.

The plane itself was a turbo-prop, 15 seater that

flew low and sweet over the towns, green green

forested hills, some cultivated with coffee plantations

until we crested the mountains to see the familiar

sweep of the endless Pacific, its breakers rolling

onto long, sandy curves of empty beach. I’ve not

had such a low-flying thrilling flight since the one

long ago, flying over the Niger River. But this time

I didn’t feel as if I needed to flap my wings and keep

my feet up to keep from getting wet in the river.

Soon enough we left the coast to fly briefly over open

sea to cut down to Drake’s Bay, our destination.

After sweeping in over a beach, the pilot executed

a fine landing on a mostly paved landing strip, wherer

only the edges gave way to sand. We piled out to the airport

such as it was, a tin shack advertising cold drinks,

and a windsock, and prepared for the road ahead:

in a van with two inside banquets and a luggage

rack atop for our alloted 30 lbs.

After the initial few dazzling impressions, I have to say I have settled well into paradise. Even with a few bumps on the road. That literally was the case on the lovely day trip we took to the coast, a little piece of tropical beach with white sands (well, it was named la Playa Blanca) and warm Pacific waves. The road there took us through forested hills, thick with flowers and, it was said, howler monkeys and other creatures whom we did not personally meet, and a stop at a river infested with huge crocodiles. (River swimming is ill-advised here). We did cross the bridge by foot though, to admire them, all mud slathered though they were, and remembered generally Continue Reading »

I mentioned I thought I might be coming down with something to the last doctor I saw, the international health guy who gave me a typhoid shot, an official do’s and don’ts list for Costa Rica, and a precautionary prescription for antibiotics in case I came down with the bug. I did, and am taking the pills, feel like I’m underwater, but am doing “swimmingly” well, considering. The list for dos and don’ts was hilarious in its way: don’t drink the water, don’t eat any fruits or veggies or salsa or anything with milk in it etc., and you have to wonder Continue Reading »

Good flight despite cheapo USAIR. No food, no movies, no sound system, OK, I can take that. But no pencils to fill out the migration forms? Really.

It was dark when we landed, so seeing this place has been left to this morning’s treat. But it was a happy landing — I got to see Doug briefly at the airport, and Lenny was there to whisk us to his place in Guacina, about 20 mins from the airport.

Riding here I thought I was back in Africa, with sounds, smells, open sewers, vespas darting about. Here is an incredible estate. Gorgeous huge hacienda, swimming pool, koi pond, acres of tropical trees and fruits, and animals everywhere. Continue Reading »

With a little (a lot ) of help from my friend Steve, I am officially launching myself on my website. It’s after Thanksgiving, after my birthday (Scorpios rule!) and I’m feeling experimental. Anything goes…

• thing one, repent this week’s calories
• thing two, get thee to the gym (or bike)