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Feb 6, Monday

This morning we will pack our gear and head off to the northern rainforests and the Sarapiqui River.  We’ll arrive early afternoon at La Selva Biological Station in time for hiking and bird watching guided by one of La Selva’s excellent guides, often a biologist or biology student studying the rainforest at this acclaimed institute. Overnight at La Quinta de Sarapiqui, El Gavilon, or similar

We drive all morning, stop for lunch, then go to a private research station in the rain forest  near the Sarapiqui River.  The drive requires going all the way back to Guapiles and Guacimo, then instead of turning south towards San Jose we travel northwestwards to the area of Puerta Viejo.  Early in the drive we stop at a hotel so Josh can check it out for future reference—very annoying; another consumption of our time for his benefit in the midst of tediously long bus trips, and as it turns out taking time from our next activity.  The lunch café has a pseudo-buffet which we are encouraged to use to save time, but it looks awful; all but E order meals, which indeed were extremely slow in arriving.  I have Spaghetti Bolognese, the only thing on the menu that looks decent to me.

We are consequently very late to the tour at La Selva and have time only to go part of the way through the primary growth, although there is secondary further on.  The path is narrow (width for one person) but paved sidewalk-like with few cracks.  It rains constantly, not too heavily, with the trees intercepting much of the rain, and I decide to get wet, using my jacket to protect the camera and binoculars.

Early on we see a small herd of peccaries (and on our return, after having left the forest, I see several that are relatively tame and are grazing near human structures).  Trees that fall athwart the path are sawn just enough to leave room for the path.  Our guide, who seems very knowledgable (she keeps saying a word that I take to be “abandon” but much later realize is “abundant”), tells us that some people squat (as in live and work) on forest land.  (This particular forest is a private reserve that attracts many researchers.)  This is illegal, and they may be thrown off if found (later to return), but apparently the forest is sufficiently dense that often they are not noticed.  After some period (5 years? 10?  the guide and Koky weren’t sure) they get legal rights to their squat.  While there, they do illegal farming, sometimes using swidden techniques . The guide says that their farmland loses fertility after 20 years (that long, I wonder?) and then the squatter-owners sell the land cheaply for cattle grazing.

Having been reading so much on swidden agriculture, and looking now at this real and massive rain forest, it is especially hard to imagine being able to destroy it.  The secondary growth which we did not see is the result of land clearance gone to seed; if left alone, the primary growth would take over.  Our guide says that some researchers project the time as 120 years, others say longer.  Plants attach themselves high on the primary growth and send down long (up to dozens of feet, it appears—I couldn't see high enough to make out some of these plants) root tendrils into the soil.

We end this intriguing tour after 2 hours.  Disappointing.  I had no trouble with this relatively short hike (1 mile, perhaps). 

Our new hotel is la Quinta.  Mediocre dinner buffet.  After, we had a longish group meeting to discuss the next day and also who wanted to go on ziplines.  I have some trouble understanding Kody’s explanation of how they work, and although scared of the idea, I consider signing up for it.

Maxine is asleep by 9:30.  I am very tired, can’t sleep, turn on light, do a puzzle.  I finally sleep til 7am.  Troubling dreams—e.g., I’m in some city (Highland Park?); our neighbors are white, boring, narrow; I meet some people from another, slightly integrated, mainly black neighborhood; I think this is much better.  I am schmoozing with 3 other couples, and one woman gets seductive.  Maxine and I realize this is a mate-swapping group and are upset.

Feb 7, Tuesday

After breakfast we’ll finalize our preparations for our river journey and shuttle to the Sarapiqui river to meet our river guides for instruction. Conditions permitting, we’ll get in a whitewater segment followed by a flatwater segment. Throughout its length the emerald green water of the Sarapiqui river is bordered by verdant tropical rainforest, along with quiet farmland.  Most of the trees are heavily laden with orchids and bromeliads.  The enchanting river lowland is home to parrots, toucans, oropendolas, sunbitterns, kingfishers, cormorants and herons just to name a few. The Sarapiqui also offers some wonderful swimming holes, quiet spots for lunch and an opportunity to do some exploratory paddling on its tributaries and side creeks. We’ll pass directly through La Selva Biological Station as well. Overnight at La Quinta de Sarapiqui, El Gavilon or similar

Wretched buffet breakfast.  We are off for whitewater rafting in two rafts on the Sarapiqui river.  I carry almost nothing (including no camera).  We get an orientation spiel that scares me a lot (sequence of what to do if you fall out of the boat and can or can’t grab onto it).  E very effectively talks away some of my anxiety, and after the first couple of rapids I become confident. 

I didn’t know we were going to have to row, and when we do, I keep thinking about galley slaves.  Following orientation instructions, I try to coordinate my rowing rhythm with the person in front (Maxine and I are in the last, 3^rd row, in front of the guide, who steers), but I get irritated that others don’t seem to pay attention to this.  (G and a young French couple row, too; G has done this before and seems to know what he’s doing.)

I am now enjoying the rapids.  I get little fear-thrills from time to time, but it is a little like an energetic bump-a-car ride, for we bounce off rocks or the shore without danger.  The difficulty level is apparently about 2.5 much of the way, and when we get to lesser rapids I’m impatient and disappointed.

Maybe 3 miles along we stop.  The two guides distribute fresh pineapple and watermelon, nothing else that I might want to eat.  (It is a shame that I am averse not just to these but many other fruits; a wide variety of fresh fruits is available everywhere.  I do try and enjoy some of the juices.)  After this, the ride is mild.  Maxine and others go swimming.  Afterwards, people keep wanting me to say how wonderful I found the trip; I say, “Glad I did it; it was much less scary than I thought, though a lot of work at the end.”  While the experience was not ecstatic, I did enjoy it yet felt the need to withhold regardless.

Lunch is at 1:30--another mediocre café, where I have sweet and sour chicken (with lots of pineapple); it comes with French fries.

We return to the hotel.  While others go to the next-door serpentarium, Maxine and I stay in the room.  I nap, read.  The buffet dinner is a bit different from last night but worse.  In the room I read, do a puzzle.  I sleep fitfully for 30-60 minutes, get up, read, feel tense, take 5 mg ambien.  I sleep well through the night but dream that Mom died (her operation to repair her tachycardia is Wednesday).  In the dream I am disconsolate; other dream features: stranger helps with my car; Jon Stewart is on TV but also next to the TV as I watch; he is sliding a knife blade under the TV and it shows up on the screen threatening someone he is interviewing.  This seemed funny.  At another moment I am trying to find a guy who helped with something and return stuff to him in a large cardboard box the size of a computer shipping box.

Feb 8, Wednesday

If conditions permit, we will run the Puerto Viejo river this morning. The Puerto Viejo is a flat-water river that bisects a remote side of La Selva Biological Preserve. This river rarely sees any other paddlers besides ourselves and the rainforest is spectacular!  In many places, the canopy hangs out over both sides of the river and meets in the middle, giving it an especially remote and enclosed feeling. After lunch we’ll head over to La Fortuna for a dip in a spectacular hot springs at the base of the Arenal Volcano. After a leisurely soak, we’ll continue around Lake Arenal to Villa Decary lodge, a charming country inn with spectacular views of Lake Arenal and the Volcano Arenal 14 miles in the distance. Villa Decary is a former coffee farm located on a hill overlooking scenic Lake Arenal and the beautiful Tilarán mountains. The spacious rooms have their own balcony with scenic views overlooking the lake, rain forest and mountains. The rooms are accented by colorful fabrics from Guatemala, pottery lamps made by the Chorotega Indians, and fine wood doors and furnishings crafted by local Costa Rican artisans.

This is a special area of Costa Rica; uncrowded, tranquil, and blessed with a uniquely temperate climate of cool nights and warm days. The elevation of 1800 feet and abundant rainfall throughout the year encourages nature: a lush and varied plant life, more than 250 species of birds, beautifully colored butterflies and troupes of roaming and roaring howler monkeys...a true middle elevation rain forest. Overnight Villa Decary.

I figure the dream about Mom means I’m worried about her operation.

We return to the paddle rafts we used yesterday, but on the Puerto Viejo river, which eventually merges with the Sarapiqui.  The Puerto Viejo is calm and flat, and we need to do minimal paddling.  Maxine and I are the only ones who choose to use a raft.  Everyone else uses duckies (inflatable kayaks).  E is alone in one, the others pair up.  Arelene’s and M’s boat loses some air (one of them, presumably A, fiddles with a valve that releases air).  M transfers to our raft, but A persists on her own, even though the boat slowly gets lower in the water.

We see very little wildlife.  The river is bordered by trees beyond which are occasional buildings or cattle.  We frequently see blue remnants a few feet square stuck in the trees: these are banana bunches coverings that have blown loose.  No one seems to worry about their effect on the landscape; in fact, few people seem to come to this river.  

The trip is over relatively quickly.  The bus meets us at the same spot yesterday’s rafting ended and drives us to a nearby town.  Koky goes to buy some CDs he has ordered, but they are not there.

Lunch is a mediocre salad bar at the hotel; the tomatoes are pretty good (as they often are elsewhere in Costa Rica). 

We drive 2 ½ hours and stop at a market/café in a small village for a bathroom break, snacks or water if we want them.  Out the back of the store and maybe 30 feet below is a river; iguanas sun on the ground and the sides and branches of trees between the store and the river.  The village has campaign signs, a bus stop, a few houses, a pre-school.

We pass by Arenal volcano (5400 feet at the summit), stop and get out to look, take photos.

I expect to be bored after a few minutes, but in fact I find it delightful (even though I can not figure out what this stop has to do with a trip focusing on “ecology”; it is a totally human-made area, though I don’t know how the water gets hot).  I follow others in ducking behind a small waterfall (first I feel through the water flow to sense what kind of opening is behind it—it’s ample), and I walk down about 5 levels over which the water flows.   The early stages are hard to maneuver (many rocks underwater), but I manage; the water shoes we have brought help.  Maxine enjoys this, too. 

Dinner is at 5:30 in a local steak house.  The restaurant has no walls, and we sit beneath a veranda.  The place is quite clean and efficient, the food decent.  After dinner, we have another 1 ½ hours along very bad dirt mountain roads.  We stop on a narrow roadway—maybe a bridge, more likely the top of a dam—to try to see lava from Arenal.  We are 4600 feet high.  Briefly, we can see some steam from the crater, but clouds descend over the cone.  Some people looking with binoculars seem to see occasional lava flows.  I am feeling jaded about hopping out of the bus at every opportunity—it’s a lot of effort for little payoff.  I think Maxine feels similarly, but the rest of the group, especially A, get are very excited about each possibility of glimpsing lava.  We stop a few times; Maxine and I mostly stay on the bus. 

During the drive Maxine and A talk extensively.  A asks about managing money in a relationship with unequal funds (particularly when the woman has more money).  Although the conversation is distracting (it’s hard not to listen), although I must use my headlamp, and although the road is so bumpy that it is hard to concentrate, I finish my book on the history of fire.  It is dark when we arrive at the hotel, the nicest one  yet (or, as we shall see, of the entire trip), run by a male couple from NYC, probably close to my age.

I am asleep before 10.