Volcanoes and Banana Thieves of Costa Rica

This is part two of the recap of our trip to Costa Rica.  You can catch up on part one here. 

La Fortuna was a little bigger and catered to tourists.  Just about every street corner had a shop with supersized pictures of people zip lining, riding horses and jumping into waterfalls… and big signs advertising the best prices in town.  We talked to a few and found out the horse ride wasn’t exactly what we’d hoped — it didn’t go to the volcano at all  — and we decided to ride later in the week at our beach stop.  But there was an option to hike to the top of a (dormant) volcano and swim in a crater at the top!  A quick group conference confirmed we all thought that sounded amazing, so we signed up for the next day.

The climb up to the top of the volcano was no joke.  It was hot and a bit more strenuous than we anticipated, but we all felt very accomplished to make it to the summit. When we reached the highest point, we met up with a group of German bodybuilding tourists, who tried to warn us in heavily-accented English about a big, long-nosed creature that came out of the woods and stole their bananas.  I thought they were pulling our legs until they showed us the video one of them had captured on their phone.  Sure enough, there was a banana-stealing creature confronting them.  I wanted it to come back out so we could get a look, but guess it was off in the jungle enjoying its banana stash.

The water at the top was chilly.  Some of us enjoyed a dip, while others enjoyed the leftover chicken we’d dragged up for a picnic.  It didn’t take us very long to head back down, where we decided a proper swim was necessary.  We’d passed some rushing water with a natural pool and a rope swing on our way to the hike, so we pulled over and got in.  This was clearly the place where the locals came to cool off, and they welcomed us with big smiles.  Edgar even got cheers and applause for his elaborate swing, tuck and dive off the rope.

With our waterfall and volcano boxes checked off, it was time to surf.  We got on the road again, this time headed for the coast.  On the way we saw a car pulled over and people feeding some sort of animal.  I had to see what that was, so we pulled over too and saw a bunch of the banana thieves all together! They’re called coati or pizote, and even though they look a little like an opossum to me, they’re actually in the raccoon family.   A family was there feeding them apple jacks.

It took us a few hours to reach Tamarindo, our destination for the next three days.  The hostel where we stayed was across the street from a break, and it even had a surfboard rental place right out front.  We walked into town and got some supplies for breakfast, and lined up our boards for the next day.

I don’t have beach pictures because we were all in the water and I didn’t want my phone to get stolen.  Just imagine several pretty beaches with some of us catching waves, and some of us petting dogs or playing hacky sack.

I do have some shots of the open air kitchen where we made breakfast, and the contraption that gave us delicious coffee.

I know this is sounding like quite the animal-themed recap, but I couldn’t leave out one of my favorite activities.  While Edgar checked out one more break, the girls and I took a two-hour horseback ride up into the mountains.  I asked the guide if he thought we’d see monkeys, and he said maybe.  But I think he over-estimated my desire because he kept doing little detours into more jungle and looking up, and then sadly saying, “Ohhh… no monkey…”    There was a bit of a language barrier, but I tried to communicate that I was just curious, and would not be heartbroken if monkeys were not spotted. (They were not.)

We said goodbye to the beach on Thursday and drove back to San Jose.  CR traffic can be a bear, and we didn’t want to be stressing out for our flight back to the states on Friday.  All in all it was a great visit. Everyone got a little color, a little exercise and a lot of ice cream.  Pura Vida.  🙂

Do You Surf?

Every once in a while, I’ll mention surfing in conversation and someone will say, “Oh! Do you surf?”

And I hesitate.

You could say that I surf, or you could say that every once in a while I take a board out into the ocean and try not to drown. My relationship with surfing is tentative, which one could accurately argue is not the way to surf at all. But I’ve come to believe that it is wise to approach the ocean with caution. Is it okay?… Is now a good time?… I could come back later, say… when you’ve calmed down a bit…

My first surf adventure began with an offhand comment from a coworker in Atlanta. I was planning my next vacation, and he recommended a surf school in Costa Rica. Warm sunshine, warm water, and a good way to burn off any extra vacation calories. I was in.

I got into my first lesson and learned how to catch white water. Paddle, paddle, paddle… pop up. Paddle, paddle, paddle… pop up. Not too bad. I had balance and body awareness, and thanks to years of gym-going, a pretty easy time paddling and pushing up. The pop up was not the problem. The ocean was the problem.

When my instructor decided it was time for me to surf green water, I felt like I would never get past the break. Even with a decent amount of time between periods, I would always seem to meet the next set coming in, and the next set didn’t like me much. “Get out!” it yelled at me with each wave. I’d get knocked off my board, knocked completely upside down, sideways, take the tumbling washing machine of the current and then pop up, about 20 feet from where I began. “A little farther,” the instructor would yell, from his super cool position kneeling on his board and cutting through the waves like a hot knife through butter. Okay. Yeah. A little farther.

(Actual photo of me surfing)

I eventually would make it out past the break, exhausted and coughing up the half of the ocean I’d swallowed. The last thing I’d want to do is catch the next wave headed in the other direction. Even now, I never do. To me, just getting that far is something to celebrate, and deserves a moment to take in. Breathe. Relax. I let my legs dangle in the water and the sun warm my shoulders, and I watch the others paddle into the force that always seem to scare me and beckon to me at the same time. I wait for the burning in my nose and my shoulders to subside, and when I see a little bump come my way I think… maybe this one.  I paddle hard… wait for the ocean to sneak under me and the roar of the wave to carry me… it’s never that I’m besting it, or even riding it… it’s more that we have a tentative agreement. The ocean allows me to come in and stay awhile, and I am grateful.