You can tell we are getting close to the end of our travels when the incidence of pool days starts to increase. At that point, we’ve seen most of what we set out to see, we’ve shifted into a lower energy state of mind (getting ready to go somewhere seems like an awful lot of work), and we get closer and closer to the cut off time for breakfast. Today is another one of those days, so much so, that by the time sunset rolls around, we can’t even motivate ourselves to walk to the front of the property and watch it from the beach.

Comfortably ensconced on our balcony with a few cold drinks, we do indulge in one more of my fellow adventurers vices – room service. It’s generally no one of my favorites, as usually it just means service fees for the privilege of getting colder food, but it is surprisingly tasty and not having to put on shoes is a definite plus.

I don’t know that we’ll ever actually leave Seattle, or spend even part of the year somewhere else for that matter, but it never hurts to imagine. We made arrangements a few days ago to look at a few properties along the beach so after breakfast, hop in the car and make the 45 minute journey back to Playa Flamingo. We’re met, not by the person we met in the office originally, but by a friendly American broken and his wife, who looks strangely familiar. They own the agency and have set up a fairly full itinerary for us.

Over the course of several hours, we see a cross section of houses, condos, beach-front, beach-view, practical and impractical. Much of it is jaw dropping, both visually and financially.

Somewhere along they way a call comes in from a film crew asking about the roads into a particular location. It turns out that Sarah has been the broker on six episodes of House Hunters International, some of which I’m sure I have watched in the weeks leading up to our trip.

One of the most interesting (and unaffordable) places we visit is called Las Catalinas. About a decade ago, there was nothing here but jungle and an entirely new town is being created brick by brick. Unlike most resort communities, with wide-open spaces often centered around golf courses, this development is purposefully high-density, focused around pedestrian-only streets and public squares. It has a old world Mediterranean vibe which feels decidedly out of place in Central America but, somehow, still works. As a place to live, I can’t really see us fitting in here, but for a week or two of vacation, it could be very cool.

Sitting up on a ridge above Las Catalinas is a restaurant that our real estate people highly recommended. Supposedly, it was rated in the top 5 places in the world to watch the sun set. We are not disappointed. As always, pictures come nowhere close to the real thing, but we try and capture it as best we can.

We stick around for dinner (also very good) before making the long drive back to the hotel.

According to the bellman, a 15 minute walk or so down the beach is a popular restaurant called Lola’s. Other than the 4 or 5 restaurants within the resort, it is not only the closest place to get something to eat, but supposedly a great place to just hang out and relax. Our hotel seems to be filling up a little more each day with restless kids another inattentive parents, so getting off property seems like a perfect plan.

The beach right in front of the resort is a little mediocre and we haven’t really spent much time on it, but just around a rocky outcropping it opens wide up with soft sand and gentle waves. Not much has been built here yet, so we have it almost to ourselves.

We walk for about 20 minutes, but according to Google Maps, are still a very long way from Lola’s. Even the local guide that joined us for part of the way has given up and abandoned us.

By this point it is clear we aren’t going to make it to our destination on foot. We abort the mission and return to the hotel, vowing to try another day in the car.

We are getting into the final days of our trip and to celebrate all that we have seen, my trusty sidekick wants to treat us to a nice, hassle-free dinner. After looking at all of the menus, we settle on the restaurant where we normally eat breakfast. Tonight, in addition to all of the regular items, they also have a buffet. We always say we’ve learned our lesson, but after checking out what is available – ceviche, fresh whole fish, a hamburger bar, and a compelling assortment of desserts, we decide to give it a go.

There is no rush and we take our time warming up with some salad and cheese. I’m mostly interested in the whole fish, but it is pretty picked over and I figure they’ll roll out a new one by the time I’m ready to fill up another plate. They do indeed replace it, with an artistically arranged assortment of chicken fingers. We ask the server about the fish and she assures us that what they have is chicken fingers, pointing confidently to the little sign that does in fact agree with her. This is how, for $32 each, we find ourselves at a hamburger and chicken finger buffet. Lesson learned (until the next time of course).

We’re headed up to Playa Flamingo today, one of the better known beaches in Guanacaste some 45 minutes north of our hotel (everything it seems is 45 minutes away). It is the quintessential tropical beach with white sand and blue water, all lined by a row of palm trees. We take a long end from the town on the north end as far to the south as we can go, before turning around and making our way back. It is surprisingly quiet and uncrowded given the number of hotels nearby, but we’re not about to complain.

In the town, we find a shop with a few souvenirs for the kids and a real estate office with pictures filling the windows. We stare at them for a while before deciding to step inside and ask a few questions. Before we know it, we’re scheduled to look at property the day after tomorrow.

Just around the corner from Playa Flamingo is Playa Potrero, a residential area with a big expat community. We got a recommendation for one of the restaurants there and arrive just in time for bingo to start up in the bar. It’s not quite Better Call Saul, but not a whole lot different either. My daubing skills are a little rusty so I pass on the fun, but not the pork ribs that are part of BBQ night. It is one of the better meals we have had here, and that is without even trying the poutine!

It’s about as first world problems as they get, but sitting here in this beachfront resort I find that I really don’t like it much. I’m not sure it is any one thing, more likely it is several taken together that just don’t make it feel right. Everything about it is nice, and there are scores of people (mostly Americans and Canadians) that feel right at home by the pool with their umbrella drinks so it is probably me that is a little broken.

Breakfast is full on resort style and included with our room so we back up the truck like everyone else. Waffles, fruit, omelettes, fresh tortillas, pastries, and more all soon blend into one another as we do our best to make sure we won’t need to buy $22 hamburgers for lunch. I guess that is my biggest beef about the place – that we are completely isolated from anything other than the resort unless we want to fetch the car and weave around 15 minutes worth of potholes to get to the closest shops and restaurants. I don’t have that in me today so we flop down by the pool instead.

By evening people are starting to get a little stir crazy. I’m perfectly content firing up a tasty noodle soup (spicy chicken flavor) and turning in, but my fellow adventurer will have none of it. It takes a little convincing but I finally cave and agree to drive into Tamarindo where we find a nice place on the beach to sit and have dinner.

It is the low season of course, so the beach vendors are still the JV team. There are a group of hippies spinning fire sticks nearby – not the cool fire spinner kind thing you might see in Hawaii or Indonesia, more like the kind of fire spinning you might see if you signed up for a class with a Groupon. Nevertheless, they live in Costa Rica and work on the beach everyday so who’s the idiot here?

Tamarindo is everything our resort is not. There are restaurants everywhere, a much younger crowd of people wandering the streets, and a wide, white sand beach, full of options for activities. It’s possible that it is just as extreme in the opposite direction of where we are staying, but if the opportunity ever presents itself, I think I’d choose to establish base camp here.

This is our last day in Arenal, but before kicking off the 4 hour drive to Guanacaste, we first need to conquer the white water of the Balsa River. Four people just died here rafting, so my fellow adventurer isn’t exactly sold on the idea, but we found the best rated group in La Fortuna and owner has used a little dog fu to put her mind at ease.

The shuttle out to the river takes about 45 minutes, with a brief stop a roadside stand to pick up some snacks. A two-toed sloth has made a comfortable home up in the rafters of the place, although it is perilously close to some wiring that looks not quite up to code and supposedly gets a wake up jolt every once in a while.

Arriving at our launch point, the guides take a moment to explain the rules, check our gear, and figure out which people will go in which raft. Since I am traveling with the most nervous person on the bus, I will be placed in the granny boat with the rest of the noobs.

The river is broken into two sections – the first with class II and III rapids where most of the action will be, and a second, calmer stretch where we’ll get to relax a bit more and look for wildlife. Despite her reservations, my trusty crew mate is a beast with an oar, powering us through the waves with abandon.

Part way through, the non-granny boat hits a rock and nearly flips, tossing nearly everyone into the river. Trailing in behind we paddle over to pick up one of the stragglers. He is grateful for the rescue, flashing a hillbilly smile as we pull him aboard from where he has landed face first on a rock and broken half of his front tooth off.

That is by far the most exciting part of the day, and after a much calmer segment spotting some animals (including a poison dart frog), we are at the end of our adventure. Fears conquered, my brave traveler looks like a new woman.

From here the day takes a much less exciting turn. For the four hours we crawl our way up and over the mountains behind a variety of trucks, tractors, and other excruciatingly slow drivers. We do pass through a large wind farm along the way, and since we are only moving at 12 miles an hour, are able to get some good pictures.

As seems to be our habit, we finally roll into the hotel after dark. It is another resort, although the road into it is easily the worst we have been on. The potholes are not for the faint of heart and once in a while we hit one so hard it feels like the wheels are going to come up through the floorboards.

We have managed to score a upgrade to the Iguana Suite which, as anyone that has travelled with my fellow adventurer knows, makes this the high point of her vacation. For all the smack she talks about roughing it in third-world countries and crapping her brains out after eating street meat, for her, they call it a Heavenly Bed for a reason. She has cocooned herself in the blankets and fallen asleep before I even have a chance to check in back home.

There are no real plans on the agenda for our time here, so over the next few days we’ll see where the winds take us. Given the road in, it’s entirely possible they may take us nowhere.

Another work day for the traveling duo. With a number of conference calls scheduled and a pile of emails to answer there isn’t much exciting to report. We promise to step our game back up tomorrow.

Being so close to an active volcano there are plenty of hot springs in this area, and spending a day just relaxing in the warm water is pretty high on the “must do” list for most visitors. Today is that day for us. There are plenty of options, ranging from a free spot along the river most of the local use, to blinged out resort complexes costing several hundred dollars a night to gain access.

A few nights back, we met a couple from Toronto at dinner who highly recommended the Springs Resort. It sounds like the kind place I would run screaming from – a glance at their website highlights visits by the Kardashians and scenes from The Bachelor – but they swear by a day pass package that combines access to the springs with events such as horseback riding and river tubing (the two we chose from a list of five). So, we’re giving it a shot.

It is a short drive from our hotel and, after checking in, we are loaded up on a bus that will take us down to the Club Rio area of the resort where all of the activities take place. It has a completely different feel than the main building, with hammocks and loungers along the riverbank and a big open air palapa with a restaurant. There are also hot springs nearby so while our initial plan was to finish our activities and catch the bus back up, I think we can hang here for a little while.

First up is horseback riding. My fellow adventurer wasn’t too keen on this event, but it is one of the better options available and she has begrudgingly given in.

During the busy season they go in groups with as many as 18 people, but today there is just two of us and the guide. Before long, we have the horses galloping for short spurts and I swear I hear the sound of a school girl giggling.

The trail takes us through the jungle, up to the top of a hill with great views over the property, and finally (unexpectedly) through the river.

We don’t ride horses a lot, but of the time we have, this has been the most fun, even though I’m sure my ass cheeks will be looking to collect on a debt tomorrow.

Next up is river tubing. Here the bus takes a half mile or so upstream where we start our journey through some mild rapids before doing it all over again a second time. The river gods are not in my corner this day as the current quickly separates me from my float buddy, taking away all opportunity to flip her into the cool water. Even so, slowly drifting down the river, bouncing off of rocks and spinning around makes for a pretty good time, and as we reach the exit point, we’re more than ready to do it again. No waterproof camera though so, unfortunately, no pics.

Our day pass also include lunch, which I fully expect to be some mediocre rice and beans number with a dry piece of grilled chicken. To my pleasant surprise, it is three course affair ordered from a menu, including a great ceviche. For dessert, I go with the gelato (obviously), which shows up in a plastic bag. The waiter explains this is how it is common in Costa Rica and how you would find it in small towns all across the country. To eat, you bite of the end of the bag and then squeeze.

It tastes great but, for the record, I have yet to see ice cream sold in tiny bags in any store we have stopped in, so it is entirely possible I have just been punk’d.

Thoroughly exhausted from allowing horses to carry us around and sitting in rubber tubes we’re in desperate need of a hot soak and head of to the nearby springs. Traveling in November pays out once again as they are virtually empty, allowing us to just relax and look out over the river through the trees.

The Club Rio area closes at 4pm and we push the boundary as much as we can before catching one of the last busses back up the hill. The springs at the main building are open until 10pm and we spend the next several hours giving those a try as well. Pushing 5 hours of sous vide, I feel fork tender all the way through so when the timer goes off, I’m ready to move along.

We make a quick run into town for dinner and to book a whitewater rafting trip for the day after tomorrow and then, despite no really doing anything all day, I’m out like a light by 9:00pm.

Yesterday was about as uneventful as it gets but it did give us the opportunity to catch up on life back home and to recharge our batteries. The rain continued through the night, finally tapering off as we headed out for breakfast. The plan is to hedge our bets today by hiking to a waterfall/swimming hole a few miles out of town. The skies still look angry but with a water activity we’re going to get wet anyway so we’re less concerned with what direction it comes from.

The walk in starts from above the falls, taking us down roughly 400 stairs through the jungle to the base.

There, we actually find two falls, with this one hidden by the trees almost until you are almost next to it.

There are strong currents at the base of the main falls so no swimming permitted there, but we do break for a few pics.

Another 50 yards or so further along, the water quiets down into a nice pool that is perfect for a relaxing dip. The rains start and stop a few times while we’re here, but neck deep in the cool water, we’re indifferent. Of far bigger concern are the looming 400 steps back up to the car…

We do manage to push through, taking breaks along the way to look for wildlife. It is all hidden pretty well from laypeople like us, but we do come across a few cool things like these white tent bats resting together under a leaf.

Next on our agenda is Hanging Bridges Park (which is not so much a park as it is a private tourist attraction). We deferred this from a few days ago hoping for better weather but probably ended up on the wrong side of that one. It is far more overcast as we pay for our tickets and start down the trail, but we’re keeping our fingers crossed the rain will hold off for a little longer.

The hike is a few kilometers, passing over 14 bridges according to the marketing pieces. In practice, a fair number of them are short, simple footbridges, but they don’t say that upfront, focusing instead on the handful of grand suspension bridges high up in the trees.

The first few are pretty fun, but much like temples, by the 3rd or 4th one, they all start to look the same.

Coming as a surprise to absolutely no one, the rain does not wait until we are safely back in our car, instead coming down with a vengeance as we try to find small patches of ground with enough canopy to absorb the worst of it. In a matter of minutes, the trails we are standing on turn into rivers which, in retrospect, make Tevas a poor footwear choice. At least on a suspicion bridge the water doesn’t pool around your feet.

On a sunny day, when the animals are out, Hanging Bridges Park would likely make for a nice outing. I’m sure there are monkeys, sloths, snakes, tarantulas, and all kinds of birds to see both above and below the canopy. On a cloudy, rainy day, it is really just an expensive walk through the trees. Some you win, some you lose.

Wow. Pretty much all day. Can’t say they didn’t warn us though – it’s right there in the name.