City living in the capital of a country makes me green anemic. And because the buildings tightly line the sidewalk, the best view of the mountains is most often found when standing in the middle of the street. And that's not the place to stop and gaze since cars have the right of way. The park is just a short walk away, but the afternoon rain keeps us inside on most days. There's only one cure.
Escaping to one of the most beautiful places on earth was well worth the long, hot, twisty turny bus ride and hostel simplicity. Strange, different, exciting, it felt like something I'd do in college, but here we were with the kids hanging out on the patio of Manuel Antonio Backpacker's Hostel with the rain coming down in torrents and the dark rainforest just feet away.
At times, the deafening roar of rain on the tin roof made conversation impossible. So we sat together at the picnic tables, recently covered with wood colored contact paper, or wandered over to sit on the damp, musty sofas. Several languages floated past our ears since all of us backpackers preferred mixing in the common area over squatting on metal bunkbeds in the semi private rooms.
I recharge when alone. And I found that time by waking at 5am, after the rain had finally ceased, and walking into the rainforest to listen to the wildlife wake. But I also enjoyed the bond of mutual trust necessary to share our 4 bunkbed room with others and make pancakes with strangers in the common kitchen.
When we arrived at Manuel Antonio National Park, I was breathless at the sheer height of the dense, tangled jungle wall rising on either side of the path. Tarzan tendrils hung from the trees, and giant royal palms took center stage. The magnitude of the plant life made the giant spider on the information sign look tiny. We opted out of a tour and soaked in the experience at our own pace.
We took note of the places the other guides stopped, to see if we could see what they were observing through their special equipment. After one small group moved on with their guide, I stood still for another 20 minutes, watching and photographing a sloth as it emmerged from behind the leaves and slowly made its way from one tree limb to another.
Isaiah and Julia seemed to spot the greatest number of creatures and pointed out the red crabs before they disappeared, scuttling into their holes. The monkeys on the white, sandy beach were the most entertaining. One of them stole a shirt left on a beach blanket, ran up high into the trees, and then tried to put it on. He didn't make much progress and left it hanging on a branch. Observing all of these creatures in their natural habitat was better than any trip to the zoo.
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| The water turns silver in the afternoon sun |
The water was a perfect temperature, with different sized waves depending on the beach. We explored another private cove in the afternoon, but the sun was starting to set, turning the blue water to silver, and we needed to head back to the hostel.
After just one full day of green, blue, and white, I was ready to ride the public bus back into downtown San Jose. In four or five weeks, I'll be due for another dose.
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| Julia swings on the hostel's tarzan rope |
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