Costa Rica Day 3

Up at 6am, breakfast at 7am, into the tour van at 7:30. There’s another couple there, Michael and Barbara ; they’re 62, Audobon members from Baltimore. Our driver is Heiner (“call me Goose”), tall and very personable.  Heiner is quite proud of his country, and talked about their medical system, the education available, new investments in call centers and computer manufacturing. It seems he works a lot of hours, at least during tourist season, but he has a great sense of humor and he really seems to enjoy his work. He told us: “No worries, no rush, no rules”--if we want to stop along the way, for coffee or shopping or to look at something that catches our attention, we can, no problem.

We drive past Liberia and see a volcano—the clouds at the top may have been just regular clouds caught on the mountaintops,but there were half a dozen steam plumes around the base.  Then we go to a roadside restaurant where we put in our lunch order, then along a back road to a bridge, down the bank to the water. The boat is a rubber raft with a pair of outriggers at the stern for oars. We travel down the river for two hours, mostly smooth water although there are a few rapids—tame ones, though, nothing where you have to worry about flipping the boat. Lots of birds: kingbird , tiger heron, cattle egret, osprey, sand piper, parrot, small blue heron, and anhinga. We see  termite nests in trees, howler monkeys,  iguanas, crocodiles, and little basilisk lizards, which are also called Jesus Christ lizards because they run across the top of the water. One of the crocs looks like a mere log downstream from us, but moving across the river; he’s to the bank and  hidden by the time we reach him. The other is sunning on a log, and for all I could tell, might be a concrete croc put there to be sure the tourists saw something. I don’t think it actually was concrete, though—if I understood Melvin correctly, the river rises 4 meters in rainy season, and I imagine the log would be washed away. 

Halfway through the tour Melvin grounds us on a bank and cut up a pineapple for us, fresh, sweet, delicate flavor; canned pineapple is only a very poor and distant relation. That pineapple really deserves its own post. It is fantastic.

We come to the landing point--having only seen a couple of fishermen along the whole stretch of the river--and depart for the restaurant. Lunch is casados, and grilled chicken which is much improved by the salsa Heiner recommends, which gives it something of a curry taste. We pause for a bit at a gift shop to get tee shirts and souvenirs and coffee. On the way back to the hotel, Heiner gets word from his boss that there had been a serious accident which blocked the main road, so we'd have to get back to Tamarindo by the old road. Which is the former main road, but it's unpaved, not graded nearly often enough, with clouds of dust, very bumpy, and the line of tourist vans are snaking back and forth to avoid huge potholes. Heiner says "Now you know why Costa Ricans are so happy--any time we drive somewhere, we get a massage!" But he is also mindful that some of the other vans had newly arrived tourists, and it bothers him that their first ride through the countryside isn't making a good impression. He's a great guide.

Back at the hotel, we have an early dinner, an outdoor shower, and a nap. In the evening, there is "folkloric dancing" on the beach, with the men dressed in white with pink or orange sashes, and cowboy hats; the girls have their hair up and wear long yellow dresses.