December 1990 - January 1991
One of the benefits of working at New York University was its generous holiday schedule. Luckily, Brian's breaks from law school were true breaks (not like vacation from work), so we were able to take complete, stress-free vacations during that time.
In 1990, Costa Rica had not yet been "discovered". In fact, it was only starting to market itself to Norteamericanos as a destination alternative in the region, attempting to lure tourists away from Mexico and the Caribbean. Costa Rica had "everything" - mountains, beaches, rainforests - while being politically safe and stable. Brian and I planned a Christmas/New Year vacation there due to our long holidays.
In the early days of email and internet, we contacted an agent in San Jose and crafted a nearly two-week holiday. At that time, there was little information about the country other than a few NYT articles in the Sunday Travel Section. Hot on everyone's lips at the time were the beaches at Manuel Antonio on the Pacific side and little Cahuita on the Caribbean - those were literally the only two names we had heard about (besides the capital). After many emails and a few faxes, we were ready to go. We booked a flight to Miami and then onto San Jose.
SAN JOSE
The Costa Rican capital was so unremarkable that I barely have any memory of it. In fact, the name of the country was actually created to attract migrants from the Old World because the general perception was that "the place didn't have much going for it". Hence, San Jose is not chock full of the grand old colonial buildings that one finds in other Latin American capitals. It was, however, safe and secure. We strolled around and saw the obligatory sights.
What we found remarkable about San Jose was its weather. The city is firmly in the tropics. The valley holding San Jose is over 1,000m above sea level meaning that the days were hot, but the nights cooled off deliciously. The adjacent towns outside the capital higher up on the mountain slopes were in a perpetual springtime. San Jose received a lot of rainfall, but not too much. The valley was lush and verdant. Brian and I agreed even at our young age, "this would be a great place to retire". Apparently, that came to pass in the following years.
Since we had no expectation of seeing historical sites and old buildings in Costa Rica, the fact that the capital was unremarkable didn't bother us. We were just killing time waiting to see the natural splendors of a country that was over 10% national parkland.
The next day our tour agent came and picked us up for our first adventure - we were going to the rainforest!
National Museum, San Jose.
National Theatre, San Jose.
THE RAINFOREST
A guide arrived at our hotel, fetched us, picked up another couple, and then we drove out of San Jose and into the mountains. The road twisted and turned through coffee plantations and small farms. The scenery was gorgeous - this was why we came to Costa Rica! We arrived at a car park and started off for our walk in the mists of the rain/cloud forest of Braulio Carillo National Park - a park made in reaction to a highway built from the coast. The park bears the name of the forward-thinking Costa Rican President who helped preserve this swath of virgin rainforest after seeing the negative impact of the new road. It was well-known for its hiking paths and views. Most importantly, it was our first real tropical rainforest. We had entered another realm.
We were on the tour with a British couple, one of whom was a botanist (which was an incredible stroke of luck). He sometimes spoke too technically during our walk, but we learned a lot about the types of plants in the forest. He was a pig in mud - this was something he had dreamed of his whole life. Brian and I were simply amazed with our first jungle experience. Everything was beautiful and everything was new to us - there was just one small problem. We had never been in a tropical rainforest and we were not properly dressed.
Rainforests are mosquito heaven and we showed up in shorts and t-shirts (at least we weren't hot) and no mosquito spray or cream because we had never thought about it. Although we were experiencing the glory of the rainforest for the first time, we also probably lost a pint of blood between us. We were miserable even though we loved everything we saw. A big lesson had been learned - even in the tropical humidity and heat, a rainforest means "cover up". We bought mosquito repellent in San Jose and were better prepared for our future forays into the wilds of Costa Rica (which were about to get a lot wilder).
That evening we returned to San Jose for dinner with our British friends and had a nice meal together. They were disappointed at our early return to the hotel, but we had to wake up early for our next adventure - a boat ride down the Sarapiqui and San Juan Rivers to the Atlantic Coast.
La Paz Waterfall, Braulio Carillo National Park
A BOAT TO THE OCEAN
We left San Jose early and drove the same road as the day before into the mountains. We passed over the crest of the mountain ridge and dropped down again toward a point on the map (literally), Puerto Viejo. At that interior "port", we caught a canopied boat that was going to take us down the scenic Rio Sarapiqui to the larger San Juan River dividing Costa Rica from Nicaragua and eventually the Caribbean Sea.
The key word for the journey was "relaxed". The Rio Sarapiqui was indeed beautiful, especially the first part which was still inside the Braulio Carillo National Park. As we got closer to the border, the river widened and the land flattened out. There were small farms to our left and right. Honestly, the scenery was not wonderous, but we were on an adventure. The Rio San Juan had just opened up again for river traffic after Nicaragua's long-standing internal conflict had settled down.
We turned a corner onto the much larger San Juan River and stayed close to the Costa Rican side. We saw several guard towers across the river in Nicaragua while the Costa Rican side was mostly forested with small farms here and there. The river had little traffic - maybe people still weren't sure about the safety? The border towers with machine guns on the Nicaraguan side were menacing without a doubt. Relaxation reigned, however. We slowly putt-putted down down toward Barra de Colorado where the San Juan River emptied into the Caribbean. We laughed that we were on the Costa Rican Queen headed into the unknown. Our travel agent had found us a hotel in that unlikely part of the country and we had no idea what to expect.
The river trip was more experiential than "wow". We had a much better river float later when we did some white water rafting. Brian and I were on a high knowing we were traveling in a place just recently reopened where few others had traveled. Looking back on it, the idea of the river trip exceeded the reality. We were not disappointed in the least, and I think even until now few people take a boat down the Sarapiqui all the way to the mouth of the San Juan.
We soon entered the realm of Archie Fields - someone you just could not dream up even as a fictional character.
Puerto Viejo de Sarapique boat launch
Rio Sarapiqui
San Juan River
AN EMPIRE
We arrived at the Rio Colorado Lodge - a ramshackle place on the banks of the Rio Colorado, a branch of the San Juan River in its shared delta between Nicaragua and Costa Rica. The Barra del Colorado appeared starkly windswept and barren after the rainforest. Reminiscent of the barrier islands of Maryland and Virginia rather than tropical Costa Rica, the landscape made us feel we had arrived in a new country. The room was decent and we sat down for a welcome drink. Then we met the proprietor, Archie Fields.
Archie Fields hailed from Tampa, Florida, and arrived in Costa Rica by way of the Bahamas, where he had set up a thriving tourist business but found it difficult to do business after the British gave up rule of the islands. He then set up shop in Costa Rica and founded Swiss Travel, which today is one of the biggest travel agencies in the country. The landing of the first cruise ship in Costa Rica at the Caribbean port of Limón was organized by him. His Costa Rican Tourism Board license was No. 17. In 1972, he bought a cabin in Barra del Colorado on the Caribbean coast and started the first boat tour down the Río San Juan and Tortuguero canals. When he discovered what a great tarpon fishery the area offered, he added sport fishing. Cabin by cabin, he built the lodge until he had 19 rooms and created what has been called a “Rube Goldberg designed, Swiss Family Robinson type of fishing lodge.”
https://fishcostarica.org/monthly-costa-rica-captain-profile-remembering-archie-fields/
Rio Colorado Fishing Lodge
We had a nice chat with Archie who was the lord and master of his realm. A larger than life, gregarious guy, he was most interested in fishing and when he found out we were not, his interest in conversation waned. Brian and I felt shades of Apocalypse Now having met someone who was off in their own world, literally. That northeastern corner of the country, Barra del Colorado, was the domain of Archie not the Costa Rican central government.
Archie had pioneered the boat trip from Barra del Colorado toward Puerto Limón along Costa Rica's inland waterways. We caught the boat the next day and headed south.
Barra del Colorado
ANOTHER BOAT RIDE
We bid farewell to Archie and boarded another small boat to meander slowly through the "Canales" to Tortugeuro National Park - a journey Archie himself had created. The big wildlife sighting there on the Caribbean side of the country was the sloths. They were very hard to see because they actually had green mold and moss growing on their fur (better camouflage). We did notice quite a number with the help of our guide.
The trip was through pancake-flat land, much of which was plantation-style agriculture, but ironically we saw a lot of wildlife. Maybe because the trees along the canals were a kind of oasis for the remaining wild animals? Eventually we reached the beautiful lagoons of the Tortuguero National Park.
The area protected by Tortuguero (turtle catcher) National Park was an archipelago of volcanic islands until alluvial sediments from the interior mountains filled in the spaces and formed a network of marshy islands. Sand piled up where the river deposited land met the sea, and the turtle nesting beaches of Tortuguero formed. The exceptionally high rainfall, and rich environment where the freshwater meets the sea makes the beaches, canals, lagoons and wetlands of Tortuguero areas of exceptional biodiversity and opportunity for nature lovers.
Most unfortunately, it was not turtle nesting season, but we still learned a lot from our guide about Costa Rica's efforts to restore its sea turtle population decimated by years of turtle hunting and egg collection. Costa Rica now is a leader in the region for sea turtle protection and Costa Ricans are very proud of their environmental record (although poaching unfortunately still exists).
Sea Turtle Conservancy’s research and conservation program at Tortuguero, Costa Rica, is a conservation success story. When STC’s founder Dr. Archie Carr first arrived at the site in the 1950s, the green turtle population was in drastic decline—slipping toward extinction—due to the unsustainable harvesting of nesting turtles. Over the next six decades, a sustained research, education and conservation program has been carried out by STC, in close partnership with the community of Tortuguero and the Government of Costa Rica. Through the combined efforts of everyone involved, the unsustainable harvesting of sea turtles was eliminated and replaced with a local economy built on ecotourism. Once protected, the turtles responded by recovering to the point of being the largest remaining colony of green turtles (Chelonia mydas) in the Western Hemisphere (and probably the world), and STC’s program at Tortuguero has become a global model for how sea turtles can be saved.
At the edge of Tortuguero we were met by a small van and soon we were on our way to Puerto Limón, by all accounts, a dangerous den of vice and iniquity that was to be avoided at all costs!
Los Canales
Tortuguero National Park
KEEP YOUR WITS ABOUT YOU
We were warned: beware of Puerto Limón. It was reputed to be the only dangerous city in Costa Rica. Of course, it was also the home of Costa Rica's African-Latino community who, until 1924, were not even allowed to move outside the the Puerto Limón city limits! Unfortunately, we discovered racism was alive and well in Costa Rica - actually a surprising (and disappointing) revelation in such a welcoming country. Whether or not the city was truly dangerous, we never found out. We just transited the sleepy place, cashed a few travelers checks, and headed to one of the highlight destinations of the trip, Cahuita.
Puerto Limón - chilled transport
CAHUITA
The guide books and travel articles swooned over Cahuita on Costa Rica's Caribbean coast. Our expectations could not have been higher! [see: Cahuita]
Cahuita town
Cahuita had supposedly unspoiled, fabulous beaches and it was to be a high point of the whole trip - again, expectations kind of dogged us. Cahuita, unfortunately, was a bust.
From the transport hub and relatively large town, Puerto Limón, we took a local bus south to Cahuita. I guess we were expecting to step off into a typical Caribbean beach town like in Puerto Rico or the Virgin Islands. Instead, Cahuita was small, dusty and run down. We did learn that actually we needed to head further south to Puerto Viejo which promised "good beaches" . While in Cahuita we had to try "Miss Edith's Restaurant", famous for its restorative herbal remedies as per our travel guide. As Brian said often, "It's a Lonely Planet", referring to our preferred guidebook series. Following Tony Wheeler's advice, we located Miss Edith's and sat down for a bite and some famed herbal tea. The place was laid back to the extreme. When our waitress finally got around to taking our order, she sat down with us at the table. let out a huge sigh, and just put her head down as if she wanted to sleep immediately. We were the only customers. Brian and I had to try hard not to laugh. I don't remember the food at all, but the tea was in fact as restorative as Lipton's. It became a running joke with us for years. After any bad restaurant service or drinking any herbal tea our comment was always "this CANNOT COMPARE to Edith's" as we were magically transported back to Cahuita. Moments like that during travel really do become bonding moments with those close to us.
We continued further south to Puerto Viejo and got a room (I really can't recall, but we stayed a couple of nights I am sure) where we saw the above pictured beach. Still under-impressed, it was vacation and we were on a beach in the Caribbean. During a New York winter we were obliged to have some fun in the sun. A big part of the vacation was about food, so in the evening we went to what looked like a good seafood restaurant. In the days before global ATMs, we used travelers checks. We were getting low on colons, so we ordered modestly even though we saw amazing seafood dishes around us. There was no bank in Puerto Viejo to change a travelers check - that would have been way back in Limón. We were disappointed until we saw the credit card logo at the cashier while we were paying. We verified, you take credit cards, right? "Yes, of course." We would be back (we had left our credit cards locked in the room) !
The next evening we went back and ordered a feast. It was very good value for money and we were on vacation. Then it came time to pay - "Sir, we don't take credit cards". What?? "But last night you said you did??" "Yes, but we don't now". We didn't have close to enough cash and told them we would have to get them the cash the next day. They were amazingly chill about the whole thing and took our details. We got on the bus the next morning and went ALL the way to Puerto Limón to the bank, changed a check, and then went all the way back to Puerto Viejo, basically giving up most of the day. When we went to the restaurant to pay, they had no record of us owing anything and frankly, seemed not that bothered. We convinced them we owed money, paid, and then just laughed at the whole experience. It became another "travel tale" for us (and a cautionary tale about depending too much on credit cards).
So Cahuita might have been a bust, but we did create some of our funniest travel memories there. Travel is always best in retrospect - so rarely in the moment.
Cahuita Beach
Cahuita Beach
Puerto Viejo Beach
ON SHAKY GROUND
We left our disappointing Caribbean beach adventure and headed up into the mountains and back to the Central Valley of unending good weather that was San Jose. We had a white-van day-trip planned to the nearby Poás Volcano. The top of the mountain was covered in a tuft of rainforest and one passed through seemingly endless coffee plantations to get there.
Poás Volcano was active, but not at the moment, so we ascended by van nearly to the summit where we only had to walk a bit more to peek over the edge of the crater and down into the steaming vent. It was only mildly interesting, so Brian and I with a couple others from the tour decided to do one of the walking tours through the nearby rainforest. The trail was well-marked and maintained and it made for a pleasant stroll. I was walking at the end of our little file of people and suddenly noticed the trees swaying back and forth. My first impression was that we were too heavy footed in our group until I looked down and saw the ground rolling like the ocean all around us. It was an earthquake and we were on the side of a volcano. We all stopped dead in our tracks. It passed. No deafening roar from the crater, but still we felt nervous.
We walked back toward the van immediately where everyone was abuzz about the event. Our local guide looked upset. In the days before cell phones, there was no way of knowing the broader effects of the earthquake. We beat a hasty retreat back down the mountain with a few quick photo ops over the lovely valley below.
It had been a magnitude 5+ quake and San Jose was a mass of shattered building windows and minor building damage. It was quite sobering and made me happy that we happened to be out of town.
So it was that I survived an earthquake, saw the ground roll like the sea, and lived to tell about it. Our holiday continued.
Poas Volcano
Poas Volcano view
RAINFORESTS FOR THE MASSES
Costa Rica was still figuring out how to market itself. Our local travel agent, who had not led us astray, put us on a tour to the Pacific Coast for a day-trip to see the whales in the Gulf of Nicoya in a combo rainforest walk and eco-boat ride. The ride there was beautiful as we descended from the Central Valley and soon we were down on the Pacific side of the country. Our rainforest walk was with 20 other tourists down a straight, wide path - already "expert" in rainforests after our time in the country we knew that with that many people (whom the guide was always shushing) our chances of seeing anything interesting were slim to none. The group was, in fact, annoying. We told the guide we would walk out on our own (much to his frustration). We didn't see much, but at least we escaped the rainforest invasion force that was our tour group.
The Pacific Coastal forest was completely different from the mountain rainforest in the center of the country. The terrain was less steep, it was drier, and it looked a lot more like a forest I would recognize back north. Costa Rica, for a country of its size, was blessed with many biomes (which we heard over and over again from our guides). The biological diversity of the country truly was amazing, but the place we visited Parque Nacional Carara fell flat. We had seen much better. That was OK though, there was still the boat ride. We set sail from Puntarenas.
Whale watching was the thing to do in the Gulf of Nicoya, but out of season (which we were) the chances of seeing one were slim to none. It was a pleasant ride out on the sea and our group desperately scanned the horizon, but not even one dorsal fin was spotted. Second bust of the tour, we were ready to return to San Jose (although happy we had seen another part of the country). We did give our travel agent an earful on our return, though. We weren't angry, she had been amazing to that point. We just wanted her to know there was little point to sending tourists whale watching out of season. From then onward, we realized we needed to do a little more homework before setting out.
Gulf of Nicoya
Gulf of Nicoya
Puntarenas - Costa Rica's Pacific Coast
WHITE WATER RAFTING
After the bust of going down to Puntarenas and the Gulf of Nicoya, our travel agent sorely wanted to redeem herself with us. She booked us onto a white-water rafting trip in the mountains outside of San Jose on the Pacuare River. That was my first white water trip (Brian's second), so we were both very excited. The rapids were class III which promised some good adventure. We had an excellent guide and rafting teacher as well. As with many things, the best part the experience was not the original intention. We both loved the rafting to be sure, but the float through the rainforest, silently on a boat (our previous boat journeys were with noisy outboard motors) was magical. We noticed more flora and fauna on that raft trip than any other place we had visited in the country.
We saw all kinds of birds and wildlife that, until that point, had remained hidden in the forest. The single most amazing thing, never to be repeated anywhere else, was watching two snakes mating in the trees wrapped around each other. It was like something out of a documentary - even the guide was surprised we came across it. The whole float down the river, both the adrenaline parts and the calm parts, was one of the best things we did in Costa Rica. It really drove home what lengths we would have to go to in order to see unspoiled nature and a lot of birds and mammals in the rainforest. Hiking was simply too noisy and boats with motors were even worse.
Sadly, we were told the Pacuare River was slated to be dammed for a hydroelectric project. Due to the pressure from environmentalists and the tourist industry that plan was dropped and the river still runs free and attracts rafters from around the world. No photos remain , however, since we didn't want our expensive cameras to take the dunk if we flipped (which we never did) - such the shame since we saw the most amazing part of Costa Rica from that inflatable raft. It ended up being a long day of driving there and back plus the rafting, but it had been worth it.
IRAZÚ VOLCANO
On our adventure high from white water rafting, we were ready for more. Our travel agent found us a tour to the top of Irazú Volcano. We had liked Poás, so we figured, why not? As it turns out after beautiful, coffee plantation and rainforest covered Poás, Irazú was its angry twin (as it was not all that far from Poás) with a moonscaped summit. Our tour was partly on bicycles. We were driven to the top of the volcano and then glided back down on mountain bikes. That tour became famous for us due to a clueless travel mate who didn't seem to understand where she actually was [see: International Court of Justice]. It was a thrilling experience on many levels. The raw nature of the volcanic landscape coupled with the thrill of coasting downward on mountain bikes through lush forests was an experience I didn't duplicate until years later in Bali when I coasted down from the top of Mt Batur.
We were ready to move onto another highlight of the trip, Corcovado National Park on the Osa Peninsula jutting into the Pacific Ocean. It became one of our strangest travel experiences anywhere ever....
Irazu Volcano
Irazu Volcano
Irazu Volcano view
PHANTOM ISLAND LODGE
Our grand ending to the time in Costa Rica was a trip to the Osa Peninsula and Corcovado National Park. It was billed as "the last untamed wilderness" of the country. We were both excited about it. Our travel agent had booked us an all-inclusive stay at a "jungle lodge". She didn't know much about it since it had recently opened. Hotel options were limited at that time in the National Park, so we agreed to give it a try. The journey started with a small white van ride out of the mountains and down to the Pacific Coast town of Sierpe. It was a long ride and our fellow passengers were an American family consisting of a mom and dad and two college aged daughters.
On the road
We bumped and rattled down ever-deteriorating roads to a small town, literally at the end of the road - Sierpe. Sierpe made Cahuita and Puerto Viejo look bustling. We had to sit and wait there for hours. The town on the Rio Sierpe was just a short distance from the Pacific and our next leg was by boat. The river mouth had dangerous currents and could only be traversed during high tide. No one had told us this and we did not receive the news well - not about the delay, but about taking a sketchy boat ride across a river mouth with "treacherous currents". So we waited in Sierpe - nervously.
On the boat
The boat was finally ready for departure - it was just a large open boat with an outboard motor. It held us comfortably, but we were going to take it into the OCEAN. We all just looked at each other nervously. We piled in and hoped for the best. I can speak for myself that I was unhappy that we were heading into the open sea in such a small craft even if we were close to the shoreline. We were on an adventure that was only going to become more of one!
The Lodge
The boat made it safely to the dock of Phantom Island Lodge. We all breathed a sign of relief for just a moment until we reconnoitered our surroundings. Fallen down buildings, broken things scattered around - where the hell had we just arrived? Was our lodge built next to a junkyard? We were led to our rooms, musty with fan-cooling only. The whole place looked like it was about ready to fall back into the earth. We remained undeterred - it was an adventure. The Costa Rican staff were lovely and gracious with us at least. We had just arrived at Archie Field's poor step-son's resort - that would dawn on us very soon. Apparently, an American family arrived on the shores of Costa Rica from North America and decided to recreate their own bit of Redneck Riviera, quite literally.
Phantom Island Lodge
Phantom Island Lodge
the proprietors
The place was managed by an American family that seemed to have been transported from a bad sitcom to this little piece of hell surrounded by paradise. "White trash" does not even start to describe them. They were missing teeth. They dressed slovenly. They didn't speak Spanish and were always furious at their staff for "being stupid and not understanding". Meanwhile, we got to know our fellow travelers - they were very wealthy and although adventurous, their bar for this kind of place was far lower than for Brian and me. We were angry at the price we paid, but could survive the rustic nature of the place. The Americans with us were in full-on meltdown. Justifiably so - we were in a dump.
They actually asked to leave immediately and then found out they couldn't due to the availability of the boat and the tides. I will give our hosts credit for realizing they had to turn on what little charm they had. We were basically stuck for at least one day and night.
The family had a son named "Bubba" and the whole time we were there he mercilessly pestered the family's pet Toucan (I use the world "pet" loosely). The bird ended up with a broken leg by the time we left. That made us angry, but was the least of our concerns. The mother of our little traveling group was horrified to learn that Bubba mostly lived on cake frosting from a can. We actually wondered what they were going to serve us to eat. Luckily, the Costa Rican staff cooked us lovely fish meals(which the proprietors did not eat - "we can't eat that shit"). Maybe that whole family survived on frosting from the can? Their teeth certainly indicated it.
The father of the family who came with us (a rich businessman) met with the owners and must have given them a huge attitude adjustment. They stayed on and things improved ever-so-marginally. We, the guests, all bonded with each other and then just started to laugh at the whole experience. We had no choice.
Me and Bubba. Phantom Island Lodge
part of the menagerie -Phantom Island Lodge
One of the owners in white - Bubba's Mom. Phantom Island Lodge
"You are so fucking stupid. Why don't you understand me?" Phantom Island Lodge
Drake Bay
Excursions were included in our luxurious Phantom Island Lodge getaway, and with virtually no roads, we had to travel by that dubious boat on the open Pacific. Our glorious hosts promised to take us to a nearby beach and we were all stoked. Anything to get us away from the lame toucan flopping around and Bubba eating icing from the can.
One of the Costa Rican staff motored us out to Colorado Beach not all that far from the Phantom Island dock. The beach was breathtakingly beautiful and unspoiled. The problem with such beaches is that unless you have brought everything with you (guess what? we didn't), a person soon finds themselves thirsty and hot and missing even the garbage heap of a hotel that was our temporary home. We all loved being at the beach for awhile, but after a walk up and down and taking some photos, we were ready to return. Our tolerance for "paradise" was indeed low.
Back at the lodge, a new couple had arrived from the USA. They were on their honeymoon (from hell one might say). They looked as shell-shocked as we did when we first arrived, I guess. The woman of the couple was incredibly unhappy and by breakfast the next morning they were leaving. She couldn't deal with all the lizards in the room (along with everything else). As for the rest of us, we actually got used to it. The managers enticed us to stay with a promised trip to Caño Island offshore. Brian and I and the American family were game. Another adventure awaited.
The excursion boat! Phantom Island Lodge
Corcovado National Park - sunset
Colorado Beach, Drake Bay, Corcovado National Park
Colorado Beach, Drake Bay, Corcovado National Park
Really?
Lost to the mists of time, we saw a waterfall. I can't recall if we walked from the lodge or we visited via boat and then a hike? So much was seared into my memory about Phantom Island, but not this. Could it have been so normal set against all the other strangeness that I forgot?
Corcovado National Park
Isla del Caño
Something of a bribe to keep us at the resort, the hotel managers promised to take us to Isla del Caño just off the coast from the lodge. None of us were too keen on a voyage out to sea on that very unreliable boat, but the island sounded exotic and we needed escape from the dismal and depressing surroundings populated by Bubba and the terrorized Costa Rican staff. We set off in the morning of our last full day.
If Costa Rica to that point had been a series of "almost great, but not quite" experiences, Isla del Caño was about to be the saving grace of the entire trip. Of all the small islands I have visited in my life, Isla del Caño still ranks in the top five. We arrived on the shore and discovered it was actually a small, table-top island and we would have to hike up to the flat land that held the forest above us. No worries, a well-established trail led the way.
We reached the top to a "Lost World" kind of place filled with huge rainforest trees and beautiful flowering plants. Suddenly, the whole trip to red-neck Phantom Island all seemed very far away. We saw those houseplants called "rubber trees" back in New York as tall as three-story buildings. It surpassed any forest we had seen in Costa Rica previously. We all just walked around slack-jawed. Luckily, we had learned from the beach trip to Drake Bay and brought food and water. We explored the table top of the island and later snorkeled on the reef below. We were the only people on the island. It was the high point of the whole trip and became my number one recommendation for anyone traveling to Costa Rica. Isla del Caño had become a travel legend for Brian and me - even in all the years that followed.
Caño Island
Caño Island
the plane, the plane
Never were a band of travelers happier to leave a place than when we were driven to the little airstrip for our flight to San Jose. Even if Isla del Caño had been fantastic, we all wanted to leave that dysfunctional "resort". None of us actually believed a scheduled airline was actually going to show up on that remote airstrip with its pavilion-cum-terminal. The place looked more like a private airstrip back in the USA where a small town might have its yearly carnival. The plane did arrive, however, and we breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Airstrip
Terminal
CODA
We returned to San Jose and bid farewell to the family we had bonded with over those few days. We never kept in touch - I found it odd, actually, after such a searing experience. The next day we were headed back to JFK via Miami. Soon we were back to school and work in a slate gray New York January wondering if Bubba still ate icing from the can.
Costa Rica almost immediately after became an "in" place to visit. Brian and I smugly congratulated ourselves on having visited before the tourist crush. As friends returned, they all told stories of having great experiences and staying in nice hotels. No one's experience came close to ours - and perhaps that was a good thing. In sum, much of the trip besides the "big adventure" aspect had been a bust. We were in Costa Rica for its trial run of catering to tourists - it was like the Beta Version of Costa Rica. Those who followed us actually had better experiences. The irony of it all!
But Brian and I always whispered... "I bet they didn't go to Caño"
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