Costa Rica Part 2

The sign said Hotel Buena Vista: a Chic Hotel. It was a small hotel, in Alajuela, a suburb of San Jose.  A row of lawn chairs in the little patio garden looked out over a distant San Jose spread out below, its lights twinkling as darkness fell. Sunset was around 10 minutes to six, so darkness was not long in falling.

Our room was on the second floor, with a tiny balcony. We heard a birdsong that sounded like a ringing cellphone. Downstairs, in the dining room, the van driver turned out to be our waiter.  We ordered dinner—a conventional menu with Costa Rican touches—and while we were eating, Barbara appeared.  She and Ron had started their day in Chicago and arrived later then we did. David and Simone, flying Alaska Airlines (!) from Los Angeles, were still en route. We didn’t talk long with Barbara and were soon asleep in our comfy queen-sized bed. Gotta say, the hotel had advanced plumbing. Everywhere else we went, we had to put used toilet paper in a strategically-placed lidded waste basket. It took me nearly a week to learn to do this consistently, which necessitated some icky fishing expeditions.

David and Simone showed up the next morning at breakfast.  At 9 AM, we six piled into a van for a 3-hour ride to Monteverde.  It was Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride all over again. Costa Rica is a small country.  It’s about the size of West Virginia, covering a little less than 20,000 square miles.  That’s why we were surprised to see a large body of water to the west as we climbed toward Monteverde.  We guessed it was a lake until the driver set us straight:  we were looking at the Gulf of Nicoya, which is part of the Pacific Ocean.  

After many miles on a rough and winding road, we arrived at Cala Lodge in Santa Elena, the gateway town to the Monteverde Cloud Forest Biological Reserve. 

The lodge was owned and operated by a family. Vases and paintings of cala lilies brightened the reception/dining area. Each couple had a “junior suite,” a room with a balcony, a private bath and two beds with forest-green quilts, a queen and a twin. We were too tired to do much else than have pizza at a nearby restaurant and fall into bed. Costa Rica prides itself on encouraging an earth-friendly lifestyle. Signs in the bathroom urged guests not to waste water, to re-use their towels, and to use the same sheets throughout their stay.  Costa Rica has also banned the use of Styrofoam for take-out. I was delighted to see that the box in which I brought my leftover pizza back to the room was made of sturdy paper, unlike anything I have seen before. So there is a life after Styrofoam after all!

Overnight, a roaring wind made Ron dream he was back in Chicago. It woke my husband, Phil,  at 3 AM.  He went out on the balcony. Millions of stars in a cloud-free sky twinkled down on him.