After burning a total of about 80 calories yesterday, we feel some need to get away from the hotel today. This area is surrounded by places all offering zip-lining, ATV tours and horseback riding. We’re not too excited about the latter two, and to be honest, we’ve zip-lined enough places that we probably wouldn’t go too far out of our way to do that either. What does catch our attention though is the couple of locations also offering the chance to rappel down a waterfall. That’s something we’ve never done before and it’s no secret I like a good waterfall so the pieces are falling into place.

First off though is breakfast. It’s a resort, so the typical buffet with a quiet table next to the pool. We had the same spot yesterday and while we were eating, a lizard wandered up, and stared at us for a while like it was looking for handouts. We’re not particularly good prospects (I’m not sure what resort lizards eat and don’t feed wild animals anyway) and after a while our visitor moves on, presumably to a more promising table. However, not before registering its displeasure by relieving itself and taking a dump by our feet. That time it was kind of funny. Second time around, not so much. If it happens again tomorrow, one of the boys is getting a lizard skin wallet as a souvenir.

Orchard Ranch is about a 20 minute drive from our hotel and when we arrive, the place looks deserted. Nothing has been busy here (the hotel is mostly empty as well) so we’re not completely surprised. In fact, we’re hopeful it means shorter lines and less waiting which turns out to be the case. After just a few minutes, we’re off to the first of the zip lines.

Our cameras a pretty safely tucked away so no pictures/video, but it’s pretty much like any other zip-lining we’ve done. The lines are a little longer maybe (one goes for a kilometer and a half), but once you’ve done a few it starts to feel a little repetitive.

After a short break, we’re back into the jungle for a short trek to the waterfall. Along the way we see a few different colonies of ants. The leaf-cutter ants were our favorites, all marching in a column several hundred feet long with pieces of leaves they were harvesting from one of trees along the trail.

Our guide also points out a stream of ants he calls butcher ants. I tried to find out more about them using Google but came up empty, so it’s possible they are also called something else. Apparently, they are nomadic, wandering around constantly looking for meat. If the story is true, locals will sometimes try and attract them through their homes as a way to control pests as once they are done, whatever rats, mice, bugs, etc. you may have had are cleaned right out.

From the top of the waterfall, it sure looks like a long way down. It is only about 100 feet, broken into two sections with a shelf in between, but it feels like a lot more.

Give it up for G.I. Jane…

It’s a lot of fun and a refreshing break on a hot, humid day. We’re happy it was out last event of the day though as everything we have on is completely soaked. I can’t even guess how long it will take boots to dry in this climate.

On the way back to the hotel, we make a couple of stops, first to pick up a bag of rambutans from a lady selling them on the side of the road, and then at a fried chicken shack next to a car wash. We’re getting a little desperate to add some variety to the food choices here and this seemed like a good way to mix it up a little.

Tomorrow, sadly, is a work day, so I expect much of it will be spent in front of a computer.

We met a couple from DC here last night and, while they loved the resort, were a little disappointed in how quiet things were. It sounded a little disconcerting at the time, but fast forward 24 hours and all I really have to report is that we have done absolutely nothing. From breakfast, we made the long trek to a couple of loungers set in the shade of a big tree. After several hours building our energy back up, it was then time to relocate to the pool. Pretty big day.

Like the two and three-toed varieties, it seems like we are also nocturnal, as once the sun sets we start to move. It is a short drive into town where the shops and restaurants are so we’re off in search of some excitement which, on a relative basis, should really not be too difficult.

For our last day in Manuel Antonio we have booked a boat tour through the mangroves. It is another early start, but even though the package includes breakfast, we learned our lesson hiking in Peru and make the extra effort to fill up at the hotel. Our guide, who in the low season does double duty as the driver, shows up right on time and, to our pleasant surprise, lets us know there is only one other couple booked today.

The drive takes about 30 minutes, through Quepos and past some of the palm oil plantations that make up this area. Breakfast is spread out our arrival and we have a full selection of juice AND cookies to pick from. Such a shame that we’ve already eaten.

Out on the boat, we move lazily through the canals, pulling in close to shore when guides see something in the trees. The point out a small boa constrictor sleeping up in a branch, a crocodile, and countless birds, like this hawk giving us the eye as we sail by.

The find of the day is this small blob of fur, which we’re told is a Silky Anteater. Very rare to spot apparently so, along with the sloth, we’re two for two.

It is very peaceful out on the canals, quiet, comfortable temperature, and the sounds of nature all around. Once in awhile we come across locals, like this fellow fishing for crabs (literally fishing, as is in using a line and a hook to catch them one at a time). Definitely not the life for me, but I’m sure their stress levels put mine to complete shame.

Back near the dock we see one last critter. The Jesus Christ Lizard gets its name from the ability to run across the surface of the water. There are a few longing in the sun on a small island in the canal and, as we approach, one takes off for the shore. No video unfortunately, but quite impressive to see their limbs flying as they skip away to safety.

With the tour out of the way, it’s time to head up the coast about an hour to the Jaco. This is more of a tourist town, with new construction slowly shifting the mix from surfers to resort goers. When we arrive at the Marriott, I fully anticipate my fellow adventurer dropping to her knees and kissing the floor. After a long journey, she’s finally home.

It is another bright, sunny day in Costa Rica and we’re out fairly early to beat the crowds at the park. We make a quick stop at the ticket booth ($16 for foreigners) and then work on finding a guide. We have read a few warnings about untrained people wearing official looking gear that will walk you through the park but don’t really know much, so we’re trying to be choose carefully. Eventually we come across a group whose name we recognize from our guide book. They have a tour starting with an English guide for $20 each. Normally, we’d opt for something private so that we can move at our own pace, but there is only one other couple signed up so far, which we figure is pretty manageable.

When we first started traveling, we often considered hiring a guide to be a waste of money. After all, the guide books told us pretty much the same stuff. It doesn’t take long to appreciate their value here though. Where all we see is acres and acres of green jungle, Fabian is pointing out bats, land crabs, lizards and spiders that are just a few feet away, but invisible to mere tourists like ourselves. He is also armed with a telescope that gives a much closer view of the wildlife.

As we wander along the trail, there is a sudden rush of excitement. One of the guides has spotted a sloth, high in the trees, looking (slowly, of course) for a place to sleep. It is one of the major things to see at this park and they are not always visible so we take that as a win.

Continuing on we also spot an agouti, which is basically the killer squirrel from your nightmares. Topping out at 18 pounds (yes, the size of 6 month old child, although I didn’t have one handy for context), these giant rodents will bark like a dog when threatened and can haunt your dreams for up to 20 years. They’re harmless really, but still, if an 18 pound squirrel doesn’t blow your mind, not much will.

Of course no tour through the jungle would be complete without monkeys, and here they don’t disappoint. There have been people coming to the park with food long enough that they know all of the best places to hang out now and are happy to pose for photos while their buddies sneak in behind you and pick through your bags.

The tour ends at the beach, where Fabian leaves us to relax for the day. The water is warm and if you’re willing to walk a bit, the crowds quickly thin out.

We spend a few hours just relaxing, reading, and watching the coati (Costa Rican raccoons) try and steal things from unsuspecting beachgoers. They’re tenacious little buggers, and it quickly becomes clear who has been down this road before, as the savvy visitors have all hung their things in trees while the newbs just leave them on the ground.

For dinner we head into Quepos, which is the main town nearby. It is a change of pace, I managed to lose my sunglasses to the waves and need some replacements before our tour tomorrow. Sadly, there isn’t a whole lot there (or we just don’t know where to look), and after wandering around looking for inspiration, we end up in a bar overlooking the street eating a pretty mediocre meal. We passed a ton of restaurants on the way from Manuel Antonio so it is a bit of a let down in that regard, but I guess now we know.

Today, we finally have nowhere to get to by any particular time, and it feels glorious. It’s sunny and warm (but humid, as we are right next to the jungle) as we start our adventure with breakfast by the pool.

When we booked this trip, we took comfort in that, according to Lonely Planet, the rainy season runs from May to October, with November being the shoulder period before the dry season. In theory, that makes for cheaper hotels, less crowded sights, and slightly more comfortable temperatures, which all sound pretty good to us. With the tickets booked and our agenda starting to take shape, however, we increasingly come across nuggets like these:

“In our experience November has been the worst month for roads.”

“November is a good choice for low season prices, but if the possibility of record rainfall seems like too much of a gamble you might consider pushing your vacation back to the first two weeks of December.”

That said, we’re really not sure what to expect for the next three weeks. Fingers crossed the days all look like today.

We wander a few hundred meters down the road to the public beach, which is mostly deserted, running about a quarter mile in either direction. There are vendors renting beach chairs and umbrellas, but we opt instead to just stroll along the water, listening to the waves. It is definitely a spot where one could easily let a day slip by with a good book, but we’re still getting our bearings and have more places to check out.

Along the ocean there are a handful of restaurants, with most offering Costa Rican food. We find one where Happy Hour has already started and sit down to try a casado – a typical meal comprised of rice, beans, plantains, salad, and meat (a pork chop in this case). My fellow traveler pairs this up with a two-for-one margarita order, so things could get interesting.

The food is good, but unexciting. The drinks, well, after quickly draining two glasses, I expect to see my better half either dancing on the table to music she doesn’t understand, or face down the sidewalk, with other tourists stepping over her to get to where they are headed. Neither happens, which is no fun for me at all. Instead, we pay our bill (for lunch and two-for-one margarita mix it seems) and head back towards the hotel.

In the opposite direction, also a couple of hundred meters away, is the entrance to Manuel Antonio Park. This is one of the smallest national parks in Costa Rica but, according to all that we have read, one of the most popular. It is a full day affair, so today we just wanted to check out the area nearby and get an idea where we’ll need to get our tickets and find a guide. There are vendors all along the route selling souvenirs and snacks, including something called a Coco Loco, which appears to be a shot of rum poured into fresh coconut.

We also see a bird that everyone around us is quite excitedly pointing at. They say it is a toucan, but everyone knows that toucans are blue and have stripped beaks.

As we’re near the equator, the sun sets pretty early (about 5:45pm every day through the year) and before long there isn’t much left to look for other than dinner. Tomorrow we plan on hitting the park early as, even though it is still low season, it will be the weekend and likely a little crowded.

Our day begins pretty much the opposite of how we envisioned it. Instead of sleeping in and shifting into vacation mode, we up early, repacking, and hopping into an Uber for the airport. We have 3 more hours in the air but, hopefully, will finally get to our destination around 11am local time. All in all, that won’t put us too far off of our original schedule as our rental car pick up was pretty close to that anyway. From San Juan, the plan is to drive south to Manuel Antonio, arriving in time to catch the sunset.

Joining us on this leg of the journey are three chatty old men from Ft. Lauderdale. At least two are veterans of the trip, sharing their wisdom on how easy it is to get Viagra in Costa Rica (apparently 100mg is the gold standard) and making arrangements with the third to trade 7 pills for a bottle of rum. From the discussion, it also sounds like they must have great plumbers is Costa Rica, as one old duffer has arranged for someone to drive an hour to each way to “clean his pipes”. I don’t know how many pipes you can get cleaned for $60 as he didn’t appear to have any with him. Must have been in his checked baggage.

For us, the wheels start to go off the bus shortly after we land. Clearly we aren’t the only flight arriving as the immigration line winds all the way back through the ropes and back into the hallway. Thinking we would be comfortably situated in our hotel at this time, I scheduled a few necessary conference calls that I could take care of before hitting the road. Call one happens from the bowels of the airport as we slowly weave our way back and forth towards immigration. Connectivity is surprisingly good given the circumstances so perhaps this is a common occurrence here.

Call number two happens standing outside of the rental car office. It is hot, humid, and my travel companion is putting out a bit of an unhappy vibe (as Mr. Pickles would say, “please don’t use a bad word when you can use a good one.”)

We’ve heard horror about booking a car in Costa Rica, only to arrive at the rental counter and have the price double or triple with mandatory insurance and fees. We’re a bit nervous as the stubborn side of me would ride a bus for three weeks before paying $1,5000, but armed with a bit of Internet advice and a letter prepared by our credit card company highlighting their coverage, we sailed through.

The drive itself is mostly uneventful. The roads are all in good condition, although very curvy generally only two (skinny) lanes wide so every slow truck trying to grind its way up a hill slows everything down to a crawl. With all the delays, the final 45 minutes or so are in the dark, just as the rain starts up. It’s a bit stressful as they don’t seem to have discovered lane markers or street lights yet, investing instead in the deepest gutters money can buy.

We do make it to the hotel in one piece, and without a scratch on our brand new car. We’re stating just a short walk from both Manuel Antonio Park and the beach, so the location should be great. All that will have wait until tomorrow though, as with two long travel days plus the plague, we’re completely gassed, relying on our old standby, noodle soup, for some quick calories before crashing hard for the night.

It is a pretty common refrain that every year we get set to leave we never feel ready to go. This year we realize just how bush league those complaints really were. If there was ever a time to consider cancelling a trip this is it. Sam has brought the plague into our house, we just wrapped up a shotgun office move (mostly in the rain), and we’re trying to do more work with less people than we have in a very long time. That said, if there ever was a time we needed a vacation, this is also it.

Costa Rica has been on our list for quite a while now. It seems like one of those places everyone has been to and raves about but that we always just skipped over when putting together our plans. Recently however, there have been some cracks in my fellow adventurer’s resistance to living outside of the US at some point down the road, so this feels like an ideal time to try and fan those flames. So, off we go.

We’re flying Southwest for the first time in long time. There was a day when I avoided them at all costs, but as every other domestic airline has made the experience of flying progressively more miserable, Southwest has gotten better simply by not getting any worse. It is still a cattle car experience, but my knees are jammed into the seat in front of me, there’s live TV, and I don’t have to pay extra for the privilege of carrying my own bag.

The route is through Kansas City, then changing planes in Houston on the way to San Jose. If all goes well, we’ll arrive roughly 10 hours after we set out which, after 24 hour journeys to places like SE Asia, should be a walk in the park.

Of course, things don’t always go well. About 40 minutes out of Kansas City, the flight crew let’s us know the plane will no be carrying on to Houston. Thunderstorms, apparently. Instead we have been rebooked to Ft. Lauderdale, where we will need to overnight before catching a morning flight to Costa Rica. The airline is good enough to put us up in a hotel even though they technically didn’t have to. It doesn’t make up for the delay in our vacation, but it is a little less lemon juice in the wound.

Dinner is at Wendy’s in the hotel parking lot. Yummmmm.

Today started out as a pretty empty slate. It is a beautiful day (shocking, I know), so after breakfast, the big move is to find a comfortable beach chair and catch up on some Kindle time. A breeze coming off of the water makes the temperature bearable, and next thing you know, it is nearly noon. This is apparently the time the day-trippers arrive, as right before our eyes, a boat pulls right close to shore and barfs out a group of Koreans and their dog (pet, not snack). They are even louder than the people yesterday, shouting at each other from the shore far out into the water, but they are mostly older dudes, and the extensive backs tattoos suggest they may have broken a kneecap or two in their day so we figure they are better left alone.

When we return, their boat is loading back up for the return trip, and once again we have the place pretty much to ourselves. One of the staff suggests a boat tour with some snorkeling, a visit to a village further up the island, and then a bay with bioluminescent plankton. As with waterfalls, I’m a sucker for bioluminescent plankton, so we tell him to set us up with a private boat for tomorrow. The weather is perfect today though, he says, and before you know it, there is a long tail parked just off the beach waiting to pick us up.

The snorkeling is not too bad, although we’ve been pretty spoiled over the years. not many fish, but plenty of colorful coral and more urchins than I have ever seen in one spot. The water is the perfect temperature, so not a bad way to spend an hour.

From there, it is on to the village at Mpay Bay where we step off the boat and onto a movie set. If there was a SE Asia version of Tombstone, Arizona in the 1800s it would probably look a lot like this. All along the dirt trails (no roads remember) new buildings are in the process of being thrown thrown (mostly as guest houses serving backpackers), construction materials and garbage are everywhere, and there seems to be a complete lack of any even limited urban planning. Definitely not for the faint of heart (or those predisposed to Hyatts and Sheratons), but it has a charm of its own and, under different circumstances, could be worth staying over for a night or two.

Watching the sunset is pretty common thing to do here, but after hiking over to the refuse-clogged beach, we don’t really see what all the fuss is about.

For more exciting are the restaurants along the water service dishes at half the price of we have been paying near our hotel (clearly a different clientele).

As we are eating, we see a storm rolling in from the mainland. Our captain is anxious to get underway and I fear we are going to skip the one part of the tour I was most looking forward to, but as a consolation prize, we get front row seats to a very impressive thunder and lightning show. Even better is that we are heading south while the storm shifts off to the north, meaning that as we near the bioluminescent bay, we are back under starry skies.

My first experience with bioluminescent plankton was years ago in Thailand, where Nick and I waded out into the water of Railey Beach and watched the water light up as you waved your hand through it. I liked it enough then that we took a tour with all of the boys in Puerto Rico to a spot where you could kayak. It was more remote (darker) so the light was more vibrant, but there you couldn’t get in the water so were limited to splashing around with the paddle. Here, there are no rules, so into the water we go.

With every movement lights sparkle and I feel like a kid again. But it gets even better. We have snorkel gear with us, and even though you can’t see more than a few feet above the water, below the surface it is a light show like none other. My trusty traveling companion sometimes talks about how every person’s heaven looks different (hers is filled with every animal she sees dead on the side of the road that needs a home). I don’t know if that is true, but if it is, i think mine might look something like this.

For a day that started without a single thing on the agenda, this one ends as the hands down number one so far.

It is quite the burden to have to pack up ones things from a poolside bungalow and move them all to a the sandy beach of a nearly deserted tropical island. We’re hearty stock though, raised in the harsh climate of northern Canada, so if anyone is up to the challenge, we are.

The trip from Sihanoukville to Koh Rong Sanloem takes about 40 minutes on a fast ferry. There are no ATMs on the island, so before we depart, we stock up on cash and a few emergency snacks. The Flaming Hot Funyuns tempt us, but as we’re not headed to the party island (Koh Rong) they probably won’t be necessary.

On arrival, we are met at the pier by a smaller boat. There are no roads here, so transport to the hotels is all by water. We’re booked the next four nights at the aptly named “Pipes Resort”, given that our room is built into a 15-foot section of concrete pipe. It feels like something more suited to a Mars mission but the location is hard to beat, just steps from the water.

A very loud group of tourists has parked themselves on the loungers in front of our pipe though, and that has us a little worried as it isn’t something we want to deal with for the next four days. However, before we can focus on that, the first order of business – chicken fried rice and a beer (of course) that we find at a place a few hundred yards down the beach. Even in the shade it is crazy hot, and while waiting for our food, I can’t help but wonder how many other sweaty dudes have sprawled out across these same cushions in just a pair of swimming trunks. Perhaps they are hidden behind the buildings, but I have yet to see any giant washing machines where they might give these things a regular rinse. Pleasant thought.

The good news is that, by the time we return, our unwelcome guests have moved on. It turns our boats from the mainland bring day-trippers to this island and, as long as you buy a drink, you can sit pretty much anywhere. It is still a little disconcerting that we may see a revolving door of people crowding our small slice of paradise, but knowing they don’t stay long is some consolation.

For dinner we end up no more than 60 paces from our front door. The tide is out and the hotel has set up a half dozen tables surrounded by torches right on the beach for a BBQ. I forgot how much work it is to eat fish when they serve it whole, but it is well worth the effort. Or maybe everything just tastes better under the stars with your feet in the sand.

It’s been three days now on Otres beach, each one pretty much like the one before. We start with breakfast comprised of eggs, a slice of lunch meat ham, a hot dog, and a tiny dish of baked beans that someone must count out like a pharmacist to make sure the dosage is correct (which apparently is 12-16 beans). There is usually also a crusty potato clump called a hush brown on the menu, and a grilled tomato, neither of which always get consumed.

And because I’m still twelve inside, I can’t help but play with the butter. My fellow adventurer says my creation looks like Larry the Cucumber from VeggieTales, but in all honesty, I was going for something else.

From there we head across the street and take up residence at one of the beach shacks, testing the chicken fried rice and mango shakes at each one.

I mentioned the constant stream of hawkers being an issue here and they are still out it force, but just when all hope seemed lost, this vision appeared. A woman with a tray of doughnuts on her head – now that’s someone worth marrying (were I not already blissfully betrothed of course 😉 )

When things start getting too stressful, we mix it up with a massage, just a few feet from the water. The facility isn’t the most glamorous, but one of life’s great indulgences has to be a Thai massage with the smell of the ocean in the air and the rhythmic sound of the waves lulling you to sleep. Every time we come to Asia, is one of the things we most look forward to.

Around 4pm each day, we head back to the hotel and cool off in the pool. There is construction going on here (we see it pretty much everywhere in Cambodia), so not a great place to hang out during the day, but by this time they are generally wrapping up and things are a little quieter.

We finish up across the street one last time for dinner, again mixing up the location to convince ourselves we haven’t slipped into a rut. We have, but as ruts go, this one is pretty good.

Tomorrow we make one last change of venue before heading home. As tough as these last few days have been, when people here want to get away, they go to the island of Koh Ring Sanloem to relax. I can’t really image how you do less than we have at Otres, but we’re about to find out.