Idyllic Totobe days

We're approaching the end of 10 dreamlike days at Totobe (Armadillo) resort on Playa San Miguel, an isolated and almost deserted 5 km long beach between 2 rocky headlands, with golden sand and backed by mangroves and palm groves. No big resort this, just a main house and annexe, ably looked after by Greivin, Wendy and Leticia and co-owned by ex-Saga colleague Jon Sandvik and his Costa Rican friend Alfredo Chinchilla. All in all a little piece of paradise, with excellent local food thrown in! Highly recommended!



At high tide, the surf breaks very near to the top of the beach ,and as Ros's last blog says, the sound of it pounds away in the background day and night. For the lazier of us, there's also a great little swimming pool, flanked by manicured lawns where the resident iguanas bask and enjoy the morning sun, warming up for the day's hunting. Hummingbirds gather nectar from the trees around us and pelicans fly in big Vs over us, hunting out the fish shoals just offshore. Even a crocodile was observed the other night, crossing the road on its way back to the mangroves behind the beach track, while the howler monkies bark and groan out their chorus in the background.....



We've enjoyed a couple of longer trips, one a 50 something km trek down to the southern tip of the Nicoye peninsula at Cabo Blanco (yet again a trip made unnecessarily longer by Mrs GPS's commands!), fording rivers where the guide advises not to step out of the car onto floating logs - they may be crocodiles! And a fantastic 5 km run along pristine Playa Bongo, before hitting the somewhat rough and ready hippie/surf/backpacker resorts of Santa Teresa, Malpais and Montezuma near the southernmost tip and one of CR's first nature reserves around Cabo Blanco itself, with its luxuriant tropical forest and yet more untouched beaches. And then yesterday, 33 km northwards to Samara, a somewhat more upmarket beach resort, but along dirt and gravel roads that sometimes seem to hang miraculously onto the mountainside. Another great trip, but yet again making us more than happy to get back to magical Playa San Miguel and Totobe, to watch yet another awe-inspiring sundown over the Pacific.

On to the Pacific....

As I slowly awaken, I hear the loud shushing of a tropical cloudburst on the roof - “Walls of Water” as David calls it, or WoW – Waiting on Weather, the jargon of the oil industry. And then I realize that it’s not rain at all, but the beating of the Pacific breakers on the beach just a hundred metres from our bed. I pad across the hardwood floor and swing open the veranda door: another warm and cloudless day, a light breeze rustling the coconut palms and the passion flower creeper on the terrace roof below. The girls, Laetitia and Wendy are already preparing fresh fruit, rice and beans, scrambled eggs and fried bananas for breakfast and our fellow guests – Costa Rican/Swedish Hans, Emma, and Gustav (6) and Wilgot (1 ½) are exploring the strandline.

Totobe (the local name for armadillo) is in the middle of an untouched, eight kilometre long beach on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica, towards thre southern end of The Nocoya Peninsula. It comprises two main buildings set on clipped lawns amongst the palm groves. The ocean is on one side, and dense mixed woodland with palms and flowering trees on the other across a seldom-used narrow dirt road. Emerald humming birds sip nectar from tiny red flowers and household iguanas sun themselves on the lawn. The construction is solid, but open – wooden tree trunks of heavy red-orange mulberry support steep sloping red-tiled roofs. The living area, kitchen and dining area are open on three sides, the eaves of the bedroom are open to the outside, so no air conditioning but plenty of fans to keep you cool. And there’s the pool, too. You have to be careful in the ocean rip currents and so it’s good to be able to relax in the pool when the heat gets to be too much.

It is not easy getting here though! We drive along good tarmac roads down the peninsula from Liberia to Carmona, briefly stopping at a strange Chinese restaurant/bar with swinging red lanterns for an iced tea in 34 degrees heat and then head southwest. I am somewhat apprehensive since the route chosen by the GPS lady lies along the crest of a series of high mountain ridges on the map – while a little further to the east there’s a longer but easier road going through the valley. The road from Carmona deteriorates rapidly into a single gravel track with loose silt and sand. Even David hasn’t experienced such steep and abrupt loose hairpin bends before. The road goes up and up and I quake at each steep bend, praying for this heavy 4X4 to make it. Eventually the road flattens across the first ridge and I manage to stop trembling enough to get out and take a photo of the view – and what a view! Across the Golfo de Nicoya towards San Jose, the islands glittering in the afternoon sun.

 

The ridge road continues for what seems an eternity, ever climbing and swinging, but eventually we make it across and down onto the coastal plain. Plantations of spindly teak trees, with oval  leaves the size of dinner plates, line the roads; we find out later that this is a very fast growing hardwood which can be cut and replanted, helping to prevent deforestation of Costa Rica’s rich native rainforests. The gravel road parallels the coast now through rolling pastureland with Brahman cattle – a short traverse and we’re on the beach! Totobe at last, to a welcoming cold drink and relax.....

Hubble, bubble, boil and don't snubble!

So on to closer contact with the volcanic world, not viewing a steaming crater from afar, but walking among bubbling and grumbling mud pools, steam jets furiously blowing from holes in the ground, all set in tropical forestland.... And all part of the Rincon and Miravalle complexes, beautiful stratiform volcanoes rising to 2,000 m, their craters often hidden in the clouds. Their forested flanks the sites of intense geothermal energy, with superheated steam temperatures of up to 2,500 degrees Centigrade. So these two areas provide about 25 % of CR's energy needs, with export to Nicaragua and Panama too.

We started at La Pailas Ranger Station, with a sign saying that the trail up to the Rincon crater was closed because of volcanic activity, the last (moderate) eruption of ash and mud being in September 2011. I hadn't planned to attempt the 16 km round trip with a 1,000 m climb anyway and was more than happy with a 4 km scramble along and up and down the forested hillsides, with occasional hot springs, spectacular bubbling and rumbling mudpots and intimidating fumarole vents, jetting out their sulphurous steam. All the time wondering how much of the intense heat came from the sun baking down from above or from the hellish inferno under our feet, colouring the hot soil all strange shades of yellow, green, red....

 

Then on to Rio Negro, one of the biggest rivers running down the volcano flanks, where Ros dipped into a series of hot pools and mud baths, with temperatures up to 40 degrees, before a cold dip in the river itself. Altogether a great experience and much more exciting than the lukewarm "hot" springs of Miravalle with the most impressive geothermal energy site in Costa Rica. Then the drive back over the hillsides between Miravalle and Rincon, through a large-scale wind farm, making use of the constant high winds in the area. And back to Rinconito Lodge where hosts Luis and David served yet another superb Costa Rican supper, before early to bed for yet another day's adventure, to be recounted by Ros tomorrow - keep on watching this spot!

Up to volcano country.....

A slightly overdue account of our visit to the volcanic centres of Rincon de la Vieja and Miravalles - before heading on to our present stop on the Pacific coast..... First we headed down to the Pacific coast from San Jose along a modern freeway, winding down from 1,000 m to sealevel, the temperature rising along the way to a toasting but dry 34 degrees on the coast. Then north along the fabled Pan-American Highway, Ruta 1, which turned out to be about the same standard as the country road between Heggedal and Røyken, but clogged with heavy trucks, some of which couldn't manage the gentle hills at more than 20 km per hour and impossible to overtake...... But signs along the way that CR is doing what the president told Ros - that they're trying to improve the infrastructure, with long stretches where there is work in progress on a 4-lane highway.... Into Liberia, the northwesternmost major town before the border with Nicaragua and also the capital of Guanacaste province, where we had yet another major conflict with "Mrs GPS", she/it trying to send us on dirt roads around the centre, us wanting to see it!

Finally on the dirt road out of town and up into the hills, 23 km and 600 m up to Rinconcito Lodge on the edge of Rincon de la Vieja National Park, first through open chaparral-like rolling hills, the smooth dirt road cut into blinding white ignimbrites (deposits from super-heated "nuee ardentes" or burning ash flows), with local indigenous art carved into and painted on the cutting walls.... All the time the 2,000 m high volcanoes towering before and above us, their tops covered by clouds in an otherwise brilliant blue sky. Then up into another, darker ash flow as the vegetation thickened into a dry tropical forest, iguanas baking on the road ahead, monkeys playing in the trees.

On to Rinconcito Lodge, set on an open wooded hillside, cabins surrounded by bougainvilla, hibiscus, palms, luxuriant tropical bushes, but with an open eatery serving solid good Costa Rican food. Sat on our cabin's veranda, relaxing after the 200 km drive (not more!), watching sundown over the hills and planning the next volcanic visits, marvelling over Costa Rica's many local microenvironments and climates, the next more beautiful than the last....

The old man of Tortuguero

We've been offline for several days, up among the volcanos of the Cordillera de Guanacaste, great time, but poor or no net connection. More about that tomorrow - first Ros's description of a trip she had while we were on the Caribbean coast in Tortuguero:

"We’d seen Josh  around Casa Marbella in his khaki shorts, T-shirt and cap; slow talking with a round Canadian drawl, bleary-eyed, his greying hair tied back in a long thin pigtail. He turned up a few minutes late and looking somewhat the worse for wear to guide us through the rain forest on Turtle Hill – a rounded high promontory at the mouth of the Tortuguero River. The river taxi had room for seven passengers, but there were only four of us – Josh, a newly-wed French couple and me. We zip along the broad channel, the fancy lodges lining the banks with their parrot tablecloths flapping in the breeze. Guido grounds the flattened prow on the beach and we hop ashore, waiting for the ebb so the water doesn’t pour into our rubber boots.

We plod across the sandy beach and Josh points out the seed pods in the swash zone – large round pods the size of golf balls, flattened rounded disks and coconuts – all are far too large to be carried by birds or other animals and depend on water for their distribution. We pass by a cheap and cheerful row of wooden bungalows and cafes lining the beach and into the rainforest beyond. Suddenly it’s dark and dank, the cries of children playing on the beach absorbed by the foliage. There are 409 species of tree in this forest, four times as many as in all of  North America and Europe. All are struggling for survival, filling a niche in this complex ecosystem, all striving to reach the light. The trees thrive with their roots in the wet nutrient poor soil, but many other life forms struggle to stay dry. The white tent bats chew along the main longitudinal vein of a palm leaf so that it folds, forming a waterproof roof; they cluster beneath this during the day. Termites build their nests high up in the trees here.

The trail is muddy and slippery with brown decaying leaves. Occasionally we spot a tiny, bright red poison dart frog – the mucus on their backs is not poisonous to touch unless you have an open cut. Bullet ants can give you a nasty bite though, so I stay well clear. And I carefully avoid touching a vicious looking plant with spikes covering its stems and leaves, which can make you sick for days.

We hear a rustling in the tree tops and suddenly it’s pouring down; we hurriedly slip into our ponchos. I’m lucky, mine has a hood and it covers my backpack and hangs down to my knees; the others are drenched in minutes. The treetops way above us sway violently and Josh decides that we should retreat – falling branches are dangerous. We seek refuge in the nearest bar on the beach, Josh swigging his tumblers of white rum and water. I watch the kids splashing on the beach, the waves crashing onto the barrier bar just across the channel, and the brown pelicans effortlessly hugging the swell.

Soon Guido is here to fetch us and we drone back to the dock at Casa Marbella.  Josh steps unsteadily up onto the prow and then onto the dock, his foot slips on the wood slick with algae and he falls headfirst, backpack and all, into the brown muddy river water. He comes up looking disheveled and surprised and Guido helps him clamber back onto the dock. This is not the first time, and it won’t be the last…. "

 

Back to the world.....

We left Tortuguero yesterday afternoon, somewhat regretting that I had followed Casa Marbella owner Daryl's advice not to stay longer than 3 nights - it was a magical place and perfect to just sit on the riverside, letting time flow by.....

We were picked up by Jungle Tom Safaris' riverboat and headed back to civilisation up the Rio la Suerte - the lucky river - guide Mario joking the name was because you would be lucky not to be eaten by a crocodile if you fell in! And we sure saw some big fat crocodiles as the boat carefully navigated up the meandering and fast-flowing stream, with dense rain forest on both banks.


Then after an hour or so we reached the "bus station" at La Pavona and were packed into a minibus overflowing with people and luggage for the 110 km and 2 hour road journey back to San Jose. First driving through endless banana plantations on the deforested coastal plain, with the pretty primitive houses/shacks that Del Monte, Dole and Chiquita provide for their poorly paid and highly pesticided mainly Nicaraguan workers - the backside of the Costa Rican "La Pura Vida" medal!

Suddenly the Cordillera Central mountain chain rose through the clouds and we started on the climb from near sea-level to 1500 m, the dense rain forest of the Claudio Barillo National Park and its clouds hiding the sheer cliff above and the equally sheer drop below.... We were on Route 32, the only highway between the Caribbean and Pacific  coasts, often clogged with heavy trucks or closed because of landslides, but this Sunday evening all went smoothly...

Emerging from the clouds on the 500 m drop to San Jose just after tropical sundown, we saw the lights of San Jose glittering in  the valley below, before endlessly criss-crosscrossing the city and dropping people off here and there and then the 20 km drive out to our hotel near the airport.....Pretty tired by the time we got our chicken dinner at nearby Rosti Pollo!

Today a quiet day,visiting nearby Alejuela for lunch, a pleasant market town and province capital, now in the dry climate west of the Cordillera, a dry and pleasant maximum of 28 degrees in contrast to the humid rainforest we left yesterday. A once in a lifetime experience at lunch - giving a begging old lady 100 colones - about 1 krone - through the railings surrounding the cafe, just to get some peace, then 5 minutes later she returned, with a triumphant smile on her face, an ice-cream in one hand and a thumbs up as muchas gracias with the other! Nice to see my little coin appreciated....Then off to Europcar to pick up our sparkling white Toyota SUV, in which we'll drive on to the next instalment of our Costa Rican adventure tomorrow - watch this spot!

Tortuguero, a watery tropical paradise?

I'm sitting on the deck of Casa Marbella, on the banks of the Tortuguera ("Place of turtles") River just before it flows through a channel in the barrier bar and out into the Caribbean. The pounding Caribbean surf less than a km away giving the background noise, while here the river flows gently past, the howler monkeys growling at each other from tree to tree. Sometimes the sun shines, sometimes the rain pours down, making this one of the wettest places in the world, with up to 6,400 mm a year. It's a magical tropical paradise, in spite of the evergrowing number of "ecotourists" - like us. A great place to chill out and enjoy nature.

This morning Roberto guided us and 8 other visitors through the narrow channels meandering through the rainforest, silently gliding along in an electric-powered longboat. The water is a millpond, brown with silt and mud, penetrating far into the jungle beneath the tangle of tree trunks and vines at the sides of the channels. Grey herons and giant egrets stand motionless, peering into the depths. Rustling leaves in the towering trees reveal a sloth, white-faced monkeys, an ant-eater. A single cayman, a metre long drifts lazily downstream, a turtle basks on a log. Altogether a magical experience.