February 22, 1998 - Sunday
Departure from San Jose
I woke up at 6:30AM today, fell back to sleep, then finally rolled out of bed by 7:45AM. It started another trend of early rising for my vacation days. John and I had breakfast while Fabio went to pick up Elizabeth from the Marriott hotel. Breakfast consisted of hard-boiled eggs, fresh pineapples, bananas, papaya, toast, and orange juice. Fabio came back with Elizabeth and we left for Fabio's house because we had to cut down on the number of luggage we had so we could fit everything in the back of a 4-door Toyota Rav-4. A Gringo (Spanish for 'white guy') stopped us on the way to the car and asked me something in Spanish that I didn't understand. Fabio then told him something, and then explained to me that he thought I was a worker there and wanted me to perform some tasks for him - how rude! I wasn't too amused but thought that he probably made the mistake because I wasn't dressed like a typical tourist with their designer outfits.
The luggage shuffling at Fabio's house took another hour or so before we left for the local mall so John can get some white socks since he forgot to pack socks. John is like that and you eventually just accept it. Finally, we started headed toward the Arenal Volcano. The trip took us up the Central Valley mountain range toward the Atlantic side, winding through typical pothole-riddled bad Costa Rican roads. While navigating through a town, Fabio was trying to remember how to get through the town while John helped out with a map. Elizabeth was yapping off a storm from the back seat, she has the type of voice that would make a theatre performer envious. Her voice so loud that it drowned out everybody else's voice. Fabio finally told her to quiet down because he was having trouble navigating through the town. She stopped but continued her yapping 15 minutes later. Fabio later confided in John and me that he didn't remember Elizabeth being like that 15 years ago.
Biker Dudes
We stopped at a lower summit and had lunch there. I had a "typical" Costa Rican dish, which consisted of refried beans, rice, small salad, and grilled pork. We then started winding down into another valley and thick fog covered this side of the mountain along with sprinkled showers. A guy on a motorcycle with a passenger passed us with gleeful smiles, hooting and hollering. The road became wetter with the more frequent sprinkles of showers and the motorcycle dudes became less animated and more subdued.
The twisty narrow rain-slick road snaked down the valley and the air became very moist and humid, but cooler. The motorcycle dudes leaned hard on a hairpin turn and all the sudden, the motorcycle lost traction and slid sideways as they leaned almost to a 45 degree angle to negotiate the turn. The motorcycle stopped and the passengers got caught a little bit under the motorcycle. Fabio stopped quickly to avoid running over them. They appeared to be OK - with initial expressions of fear and shock on their face, then they pulled the motorcycle up and walked it to the side of the road. They attempted to start the motorcycle and, seeing that they were OK, we continued on with our journey.
El Toucano Hotel
We made it to our hotel, El Toucano (The Toucan... duh!), in San Carlos. A set of guarded gates led to the main hotel grounds. It was only a few hundred yards from the gates and we arrived in a cu-de-sack area with beautifully manicured trees and plants with Spanish-tiled buildings lined with potted tropical foliage hanging along the walkways. Each of our rooms consisted of a king-sized bed and a single bed. I stayed in the single bed. We walked around the grounds a little bit after we dropped off our luggage.
There was a large swimming pool with cool water behind the main building, along with two hot spring-fed whirlpools. A large restaurant was next to the pool with a walkway around the restaurant. On the far side of the pool and the walkway is a large river with rocks and hot spring holes. The area in which the hot spring emerges and merges with the river was surrounded by an orangish sulfuric tint. Steams could be seen rising off the water into the tropical foliage hanging over the river. We followed the railed walkway around the restaurant to a lower ground.
The path ended a riverbank where you could go into the natural river to bathe. Various pools of water gathered below strewed out walls of rocks in the river. There were about 20 Tico adults and kids here, splashing and soaking in the river with a hotel security guard standing on top of the railing, eyed them suspiciously, and trying to keep them from entering the hotel grounds. We didn't have time to go in because we wanted to head toward the volcano, so we walked back along a trail on the outskirts of the hotel before heading back to the hotel room.
I got the chance to investigate the river for fish. There were thousands of small tadpoles swimming about and also some unidentified fish. I was able to catch some at a later time - they appeared to be in the family of the livebearers, with strong resemblance to the swordtail family with a yellowish tipped anal fin and a very faint greenish tint on the body. We unpacked our luggage and packed a small bag each and headed toward the Volcano.
Bed, Bath, and Beyond
On the way to the Volcano, we passed by the town of Fortuna and stopped by The Tabacon Resort, a hot-spring recreation area with a restaurant. The restaurant is open-aired over looking the swimming pool and a lagoon area constructed by the property to divert some of the river water and hot-spring water into the grounds. We just looked around a little bit because we still had to head to the volcano. We should've been able to see the volcano from here, but the skies were overcast and there was a thick fog around the volcanic range so we couldn't see anything from here, not even the base of the mountain.
There was a mixture of Ticos and Gringos in the swimming pool area and lush, beautiful, well-manicured trees and plants grew along the river. Several man-made waterfalls were constructed using the diverted river and hot-spring water for the guest to use. I saw several guests sitting very close or under the waterfall, reminding me of the various resort brochures I see in tour packages. John informed me that it's not as fun as it looked because the water is very strong and eventually gives you a headache.
Dante's Peak... or Dante's Pus...
We left the spa and headed toward the Arenal Volcano Observatory Center by driving along this dirt road with scattered potholes and we even had to cross a shallow part of a river tributary. We then started a steeper climb into a cooler humid tropical forest and ended up at the observatory. It was close to dusk by this time and we could still barely see the fog-covered volcano. The Observatory center consisted of a restaurant, motel rooms, small museum, a 50 foot long wooden bridging spanning a small crevice, and a tourist information center. There were two taller towers with chairs where people can sit and observe the volcano.
We found a hiking trail with a sign "Old Lava Flow" and followed it. Elizabeth and Fabio turned back after about 10 minutes of hike down, while John and I continued down. The air was cool and humid and we were surrounded by a hushed lush green growth. The insects and birds became more active with the approach of dusk. I informed John that I had a small flashlight in my backpack so he doesn't have to worry about hiking back in the dark.
We arrived at a river strewed with numerous volcanic rocks and explored down river a little bit. The sky dimmed to a dark grayish hue and we headed back up. It was a very steep climb back up and I didn't felt the need to stop until we neared the very top. We were able to navigate the path with the little light that was left in the skies and arrived back to the restaurant that looked out to the volcano. By this time, there were a few mosquitoes following me and taking a few bites before I swatted them away. We walked around and looked at the museum and climbed the towers before heading into the restaurant for dinner.
We found Fabio and Elizabeth coming back from one of the towers. They crossed a span of wooden suspended bridge that reminded Elizabeth of a bridge at Cornell University where people leaped to their death. A cute little Coti Mundi, which looked like a very elongated version of the North American Raccoon climbed onto the path and sent Elizabeth panicking to the restaurant. Little did she know that John and I just saw one at the restaurant when we returned from our hike. The menu didn't look too appetizing so we just sat and had a drink.
The waiter excitedly pointed to the volcano and as we looked carefully, the fog lifted a little bit and some lava was slowly oozing over the mountaintop. It was pitch dark now so we could see the glowing lava without any problem. We took our drinks outside and watched the slow lava flow for a while. A drunken (Gringa) white woman was gasping and wooing and ahhing at the lava ooze to a degree that it almost sounded like she was having an orgasm. We decided to go to a café that we saw a sign for on the way up here for dinner, and maybe get a better look at the oozing volcano. We thought if we go around the volcano a little bit, since the lava seemed to be oozing on the side of the mountain where the road is, we could get a better look. We stopped once and didn't see anything happening with the mountain because the fog covered it back up again, so we headed toward the café for dinner.
Encounter with the Psycho German Madwoman
The way to the café was pretty rough with unpaved pothole filled roads and we had to cross two shallow rivers about a foot deep or so. It was pitch dark by this point at about 7:30PM. At the third river crossing, the road became the river for about 50 feet or so, so we were driving on the river for that length. Along the road, we saw about 2 houses off to the far side of the road. By this time, we were already a good 15 minutes away from the main road to Arenal Volcano.
We finally started climbing a hill again and at the midpoint through a hill, we saw the café, with a sign "For Sale" on it. It was dark and looked deserted. Elizabeth wailed at our predicament. We made a U-turn at the gate and started to leave, but woman with white hair and what appeared to be a white night gown came running out of a house next to the café. She stopped at the gate and we asked if the café is still open and she said yes, and she could prepare Crepe for us to eat if we desired. I wanted to leave to go to Fortuna and find something there to eat, but I agreed with the group to try the place out. The other people in the group thought she was French, but after talking to her further, they realized that she was a German.
The Reception Chamber
The German woman led us to a small open aired hut the size of about 35x20 feet. Off to a corner is a sink and shelves where she does dishes and clear glasses sat on top of the shelves. Night insects flittered along the dim incandescent lights. A man and woman's bathroom was on another corner. The place was dimly lit with bench tables. The strangest thing about the place was the seating furniture she had. Instead of chairs, she had hammock-like seats that hung from the ceiling around the bench tables.
We asked the woman about the type of Crepes she had, but she appeared to be puzzled at the simple question. Maybe the universal translator we had was not functioning correctly. She gave us a blank stare for a few minutes then told us that she had desert Crepes available, and she probably could make some vegetable Crepes too. When we asked her what's in the Crepe, she gave us another blank stare as if she's thinking what she had in her refrigerator that she can whip up for us.
We agreed to have the vegetable Crepe and then she passed out pieces of paper of what appeared to be menus, but they turned out to be some sort of new age cult religious ramblings. We chuckled at the situation while waiting for the Crepes to arrive. At the same time, I think some of us were picturing her coming back out with an axe to hack us into pieces because we were in a fairly remote area.
She served us fresh passion fruit juices, which were pretty good. There were some books with the picture of her face on them sitting around the dining area, but we didn't snoop too much. The Crepes finally arrived, but I knew that it's not going to be enough for me. It was filled with avocado, and tomato slices along with macadamia nuts and a light dressing. It was actually pretty good, but not filling at all. We finished it quickly and I wanted to go to Fortuna to get something else to eat but John and Fabio decided that they want the desert Crepe too so I had to wait for them to eat that. They're like that and you eventually kinda get used to that from them.
Anyway, the German woman stayed and chatted with us while John and Fabio ate their desert. She then asked us if we will stay for the "meditation", but we explained to her that we still have a long way to drive home and couldn't stay. Her facial expression completely changed, like she was losing her grips on her pray. We then paid and left - and it was a rip off at $10US per Crepe, but only $2 for the desert Crepe. She explained that the meditation was included in that price.
We got out of there really fast after that because we feared that she might have tried to convert us to some sort of religious cult that she's forming. She gave us a folder with her picture on it, and underneath it, it says "Mother Goddess". By the time we got to Fortuna, it was late and I didn't feel like delaying the group's return to the hotel, so I said we could skip it - I had some snacks with me at the hotel anyway and I could just eat that.
We got back to the hotel pretty late at about 11:00, and they all went to sleep. I went out to the hot-spring fed whirlpool and relaxed in it for a while and munched on my snacks. An owl flew close by as I looked and stared at the night skies full of stars while soaking in the warm spring water. When I got back in the room, Elizabeth was there, and started yakking at me. She's been talking none-stop during the whole trip so far and I didn't know how much longer I could put up with it.
All the sudden, I heard this old man's voice, groaning in a pissed-off voice, and said "Lady, could you please shut up or lower your voice?" Elizabeth and I looked at each other and I tried really hard not to laugh aloud. She said to me "he can't be talking about me could he?" and I diplomatically replied "well, you're sitting against the wall where their bed is right on the other side, so maybe you should lower your voice or not talk as much tonight." I continued to get ready for bed after that - I didn't get into bed until 12:30.
