Our first stop in Central America has been a breath of fresh air, reinvigorating us after four months of South America. The relative ease of doing, well, just about anything, gave us some confidence back that we’re not actually idiots, just South America doesn’t work the way we expect it to. It’s also marked a new approach of having to just hope things work out, but also really having to scale back our expenses and our standards, to be able to afford to be here.

It’s a country we’re glad to have experienced, but it’s also one we’re not totally confident we’d recommend to others (unless you’ve won the lottery, or are comfortable living off making all your own meals and dorm-life). Sure, we’ve had amazing experiences, but the amount you have to spend here to just survive is pretty limiting, and that amount could go a lot further in other countries. We think we’ll have to wait until we experience the rest of Central America to really call our judgement on it.

For the first time, we learnt almost nothing about the country or the local people (called Ticos), with tourism firmly focused on the local flora and fauna instead. However, staying in dorms really gave us the opportunity to meet some wonderful foreigners, and we hope we remember to never rule somewhere out just because it might mean having to live a bit uncomfortably for a bit.

In all, it’s definitely been worth it, and I am really glad we got to come here… but I’m also very happy to be back in a private room and be able to afford to treat ourselves with a proper meal out every so often!

Costa Rica – The Drawing of the Three

Highlights (Alex): Paradise Beach of Manuel Antonio, pushing myself with rafting and cliff-jumping, bobbing down the turquoise river between giant rocks in Poza Los Coyotes

Highlights (James): Rafting as soon as the nerves melted away, big up Chizo! Seeing all the creatures and critters in Manuel Antonio National Park. The mysterious cloud forest of Monteverde.

Lowlights (Alex): threatening man in Puntarenas, pre-rafting fears, the heat

Lowlights (James): The Manuel Antonio waterfall, aggressive beggars, the heat

Takeaways (Alex): anything is possible when I put your mind to it, whether that’s rafting, jumping off a cliff, or not sleeping well for a week, there can be magic in discomfort. Heat is a huge impact on mood/tolerance/patience/enjoyment. Sadly, another huge impact on how much you can enjoy this country, is how much money you can spend in it, almost nothing was free and very little was cheap/affordable, even to us Brits.

Takeaways (James): Don’t be distracted by news of the outside world, the wars, the inflation and all the rest that’s beyond our control, enjoy what’s in front of you in your world. The thought of something is often so much worse than the reality, waterfall jumps going wrong, rafting being terrifying in the mind, but once you get over the fear they’re the best experiences. Costa Rica is very much geared towards tourism and services with no mention of the history at all.

Description (Alex): Stunningly beautiful, shockingly expensive, incredibly diverse

Description (James): Green for the palm trees, the jungle and the cloud forests. Green for the dollars you’re going to spend a lot of here. Green for the snakes, the moss on the sloth’s back, the leaves the monkeys eat.

Entertainment:

TV & Film: Slow Horses

Books: The Dark Tower – The Gunslinger, Motorcycle Diaries

Podcasts: LSE Lectures – Dementia and Decision-Making, More or Less, Criminal, This Is Love, Desert Island Discs, Behind the Bastards, Freakonomics – Why Is There So Much Fraud in Academia, Things Fell Apart, Talk of the Devil, You’re Dead to Me

Cutting Room Floor:

• Leaf-cutter ants don’t eat the leaves they take back to their nest, they leave them to rot and then eat the fungus.
• The sign telling us about the cloud forest, and how one dead tree feeds countless other plants that grow from it, ending with the very profound line of, “nothing dies, it merely transforms into something else”
• Whilst there are some bus terminals/stations here, we largely had to wait by the side of the road with no signs or timetables and just hope the bus showed up eventually. Even in the bus terminal of La Fortuna, there was no timetable. I don’t know what we’d do without the Internet telling us when things ran or how to get anywhere.
• The hostel worker telling my tour pickup that I didn’t exist when I was sitting right there, and then I had to pay for a taxi to catch them up. Thanks mate.
• The huge array of passive aggressive signs in Sloth Backpackers (compared to the lovely wholesome ones in Planet B) that just made you feel uncomfortable whatever you did
• That everywhere else we’ve been has never had so many signs, and yet everyone managed to behave just fine
• The Manc telling us about how she felt the urge to throw the cucumber at the wall, and so did. The hostel owner watching the CCTV was not impressed.
• Latin American hotels using flourescent green wall paint. I don’t know why this is a thing, I saw it a lot in Peru and Bolivia, maybe it was like avocado bathrooms in the UK, and it’s just too bright to paint over
• The hostel managers who seem to work every hour of the day, every day, respect
• Our raft-mate, who spent more time looking around at the scenery and day dreaming than actually rowing, “what’s that over there?” as we tumble down the next rapids
• The beautiful sight of the water rolling down the rocks on the river, like a huge water feature
• Having to walk part of the rafting route due to a concrete block ripping rafts part of the way down
• Feeling like our raft guide Roberto could easily run that route backwards, with his eyes closed, whilst we just sat back and did nothing. I suspect he just shouted commands to make us feel like we were doing something, when really, it was him doing it all himself
• Jesse in Dodero offering to wash a few things randomly
• Our random bunkmate wearing a United shirt but had nothing really to say. My one chance to give James some actual football chat instead of me nodding along blankly
• Celine giving us lots of tips for Nicaragua
• Another bunkmate telling us of her travelling on her own whilst her husband went home because she loves travelling and he doesn’t. Another inspiring lady who isn’t letting anything hold her back, including her own husband, good on her
• Enes, being an all round inspiration, and reassuring us there’s still plenty of time in our lives, it’s on us to make the most of it, and not let money or comfort or loneliness or time get in the way of what you really want to do, there’s ways around all those things
• seeing the beautiful butterflies in poza los coyotes, a bright blue one a woman from the USA tells us is called a Morpho butterfly, but also orange ones and yellow ones, and a dark blue dragonfly with orange and red face.

More of the gorgeous Manuel Antonio beach:

Monkey in Manuel Antonio:

The giant macaw:

Chilling in Planet B:

Some motivating signage in Planet B Hostel:

Next to this one was one instructing along the lines of “say what you need to now, you never know when it’ll be too late”… love you family!

A Piña Colada with orange juice, actually quite tasty:

Some discouraging signage in Sloth Backpackers, the sadness of point 3, which we unfortunately experienced in Puntarenas, and then meant we were reluctant to accept help from anyone, including the taxi driver who was actually helping us wait in the right place for our bus:

Some impressive wind-farms up in Monteverde, would love to know how they got them up there!

More hummingbirds:

Another edition of James pointing at things hidden by clouds. This one is where you can see the continental divide (“where the Atlantic and Pacific Slopes divide“), apparently being able to see Pacific ocean from here:

What I presume to be a strangling ficus, that grows down and around its host, suffocating it through a lack of light and ability to photosynthesise, as it lives on once the original tree dies and rots, providing nutrients for the now stable on its own ficus:

Seeing beautiful, vibrant orange and purple flowers on our way out of Monteverde:

The upside-down cloud forest, with roots growing from the top-down:

Leaf cutter ants hard at work:

A cute little fern:

Weird plant that looks like something from science fiction with its tendrils coming out of this pod:

The photo of us at the volcano, promise it’s there:

Clouds that looked like a web draped over the top of Arenal on our final morning:

Us bobbing about in Poza Los Coyotes:

A painfully slow and sweltering border crossing, maybe airports are the way to go after all, at least they have aircon…:

Our journey from Monteverde to La Fortuna is a delight. We’ve treated ourselves to a shuttle transfer involving a comfortable, air-conditioned minivan which takes us to Lago Arenal. Here we board a boat that takes us on a 40 minute cruise across the water, the towering Arenal volcano looms in the distance. A short minivan ride on the other side and we’re in La Fortuna before lunch. Ideal.

With a bit of time to kill until our room is ready, we explore the town and hunt for some supplies. We’re particularly happy to find a big trail mix bag of nuts and chocolate M&M’s for a very reasonable price.

The town is very much geared towards tourism with many supermarkets, restaurants, souvenir shops and countless tour operators trying to lure us into booking a trip to the hotsprings or a rafting tour with them. Luckily, our man Wilson at the hostel, has already debriefed us and suggested the best deals in town are booked through the hostel. A quick comparison of the prices and he is indeed telling the truth. We pop back to the hostel and check into our room. It’s pretty basic but at least it has a fan, a shower to cool us off, and a large bunk bed so we can spread out in the roasting heat. The room has a funny smell which, at first we think is what they’ve used to clean the room, later we realise it is actually the smell of sulphur coming from the volcanic gas! Also, there is a slightly bizarre picture on the wall of a sloth giving birth…

For our afternoon activity we head to the rope swing at the El Salto waterfall around 25 minutes walk from our hostel. Compared to the last waterfall we walked to, this one is a breeze to reach, which does of course mean it’s busy, packed with gringos queueing up to use the rope swing. We sit on the rock and watch the acrobatics as confident tourists and some locals twist, spin and somersault off the rope into the water below. I tell Alex to lower her expectations as I join the queue. I don’t have anywhere near the same fear as my last jump and enjoy swinging like Tarzan into the arena where thirty or so expectant faces watch me plunge into the river.

I try to coax Alex into at least jumping off the small ledge a couple of meters above the pool but she’s understandably nervous, especially with an audience around. Instead we climb in to the river further down for a cool off and it even starts to rain a little.

The Land of Lava

Our first full day in La Fortuna and we decide to spend it by visiting the biggest natural attraction in the area, the volcano. We decide to save some money by skipping by hostel arranged tour, and take an Uber from town and arrive at the Mirador El Silencio, recommended by our hostel, and confirmed by Google to be the best of the three park options around the Volcán. There are numerous paths through the jungle, all leading up to a lava trail, which is as close as you can safely get to the still active volcano.

We make our way through the foliage, spotting a howler monkey, a sloth and a handful of birds, still no sign of a damn toucan though.

Reaching a tour group as we climb up the 1968 lava trail, the guide advises we won’t see any toucans up here, but might do back where we started, doh. Here we get to walk on a section of lava from the last eruption, all black sand and rocks with vibrant green plants pushing their way through.

At the Mirador, with a fantastic view of the volcano, I ask a German lad to take a picture of Alex and I in our usual pose, looking out into the distance with our backs to the camera. “Beautiful” he says as he hands back my phone, intentionally or not he only seems to have captured around 10% of the volcano in the shot… I figure I’ll wait until he’s gone and ask someone else. 

In the meantime, another tourist explains the black contours you can see are formed by the lava flows of the 2010 eruption in the vista infront of us. It seems clear now why this Mirador is as close as you can get while still being safe from a potential eruption. The group clears off and eventually a family climb up to where we are. They take a better photo, but the clouds have rolled in a bit more now. Luckily it won’t be the last volcano we see on this trip so we’ll try again elsewhere!

We head a different route back down to the car park where we entered. Alex stops at a bend in the road, overlooking a large green pond full of algae. Something has caught her eye or ear as she stops and watches patiently. “Toucans!” She cries as she beckons me over. I run to her. Two have just flown across the water to the jungle on the other side but she’s certain there are more. We make our way closer for a better look. A couple of moments later one of the elusive creatures spreads its wings and glides above the pond to follow its mates. It’s not up close but we’ve both finally seen the species we’ve been desperate to spot!

We hike back down to the entrance. It seems to take a lot longer going down on this winding route but it is certainly scenic. 

We consider thumbing a lift down to the hot springs but there isn’t really anyone around so we do our usual thing and walk 20 minutes along a busy bendy road with no pavement.

Eventually we cross a bridge spanning over a river and realise we need to be in the water below us. We find a trail by the roadside and reach the water. When I first put my foot in I’m disgusted to find the water is as warm as a bath and I’m worried it’s sewage water. I soon realize this is of course the river from the hotsprings, naturally heated by an innocent volcano, nothing nasty. We walk under the road where water strongly rushes past our feet, an oasis of natural hot springs lies just ahead. We relax and play around in the warm pools, the pool edges made by tourists using volcanic rocks. 

We relocate to part of the river higher up where the water is even warmer. As we bathe here a toucan arrives on a branch a few meters away. We stare watching ‘Toucan TV’ for a long time as it uses it’s scythe-like beak to chomp down leaves and bugs for lunch and enjoys a post meal snooze in the tree. They are beautiful but bizarre creatures, their giant colourful beak makes up over 30% of their size yet only accounts for around 3% of their mass.

Find it in the center of the image:

Getting home is a bit of a faff as we don’t have any signal to request an Uber. Our hostel group tour which we rejected, just so happens to be leaving as we do, but they have no more room in their car and the only bus for another 3 hours drives past us as we consider our options. We decide we’ll try to hitch-hike it back to town, a couple of girls in our hostel told us it was easy around here…

We wait by a hotel entrance where the parking attendant finds it very amusing that we’re trying to hitch-hike. I take the first shift, holding my thumb out for a good ten minutes whilst most cars don’t even give us a second look. Rightly or wrongly, I figure women have a better chance of someone pulling over, so I tell Alex it’s her turn. More smirks from the parking attendant. A few minutes later and I’m ready to give up and wander around until we can claw enough signal to order an Uber. As I do this, the parking attendant asks one of the hotel guests getting into his car if he’s going to La Fortuna. “Yeah…why?” The bewildered looking driver asks, “can you take these guys?” the attendant pleas while Alex and I put on our friendliest smiles. “Err… I guess, find yourselves some room in the back” he resigns. Our chauffer is an American guy called Ryan on his first holiday outside of the States, he doesn’t seem thrilled to be strong armed into giving us a lift, but we make conversation. In typical fashion of the Americans we’ve met so far, it’s a pretty one way conversation of him explaining how the world works through his view and not really engaging much in our responses. Feeling a bit awkward about the whole ordeal, as soon as we hit the edge of town I say “this will do, we’ll get out here”. Not realizing it’s still a twenty minute walk to the hostel, but at least it’s now in company I enjoy.

In the evening we find one of the local soda eateries, two minutes walk from our hostel. I have Jugo de Maracuyá (passionfruit juice) while Alex slurps down a cold Tamarind juice. We order the local traditional dish (casado) of rice and beans, plantain, salad, veg and a choice of meat, I have carne en salsa (beef in sauce) while Alex has pescado (fish). It arrives quickly and we enjoy it, except for when Alex tries a bit of my beef that I’ve covered in a particularly hot spicy sauce, that’ll teach her. As we’re tucking into our meals, an American lady on the table behind us complains that her steak is not cooked properly. The owner offers to cook it more or she can have another dish. She refuses and is quite blunt and rude to him which is a real shame in this family restaurant that clearly takes pride in it’s work. The owner seems visibly upset (not angry) and offers the rude lady a refund. Later, we reassure him our meal was really tasty and perfect as he clears our plates. “I feel better now” he says to his colleague behind the counter. It seems odd to go to a soda, order a steak then be surprised when it’s not exactly how you want it. Her children explain, showing a picture on their phones, “in our country it’s cooked like this”, another trait we’ve been noticing of certain tourists forgetting they’re not in their country. I suppose this is why we’d give the place five stars (which we did on Google) and others would give it one. 

Tears for Fears

Yesterday we spoke to Wilson at our hostel about booking the rafting tour. I was in two minds about which option to take, the level 3&4 on the beginner river, or level 3&4 on the advanced river. Both had excellent reviews so it was a case of how far did I want to push Alex’s limit as she was nervous about it. Long story short he talked us into doing the level 3&4 on the advanced Rio Sarapiqui, which was labelled as “Extreme!” and “for adventure junkies” on their website. I tell Alex this is likely just for marketing purposes. As I try to get to sleep the night before, I remember the tears, the shaking and the look of fear on her face after tricking her onto the waterslide at Center Parcs. I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake and feel slightly concerned about the challenge myself!

In the morning we’re picked up by a bus with two large yellow rafts loaded on top of it, full of excited faces. Alex is slightly relieved to see there is a young lad on the tour (if he can do it, so can I) and the majority of the group are men (they can do all of the work while I hide at the back). We zoom along towards the river and our nerves are fairly calm.

That is until the safety briefing starts. There are five directional moves to remember and on top of that, four safety moves. One of these involves “jumping like Superman to the other side”. Hmm. “Remember guys this is a category four, it is serious… This is what you do when your raft flips over and you’re stuck underneath it… This is how you float in the rapids… You will look like a raccoon if you don’t do this… [10 minutes later]… Got that?” Bare in mind Alex had to hear all of this in English AND Spanish! The heart rate increases dramatically.

We disembark the minibus and put on our life-jackets (bizarrely they’re called Personal Floatation Devices out here), our helmets (Personal Brain Protectors?) and grab a paddle. We make our way down to the fast flowing river and form a queue. Alex is the epitome of fear, rigid and terror in her eyes. I feel terrible! I try to reassure her they have to make the safety brief sound scary so people will listen. I’m not sure if it helps.

Because the river is shallow at this time of year, there will only be three of us plus our guide in the raft. We climb aboard and meet our instructor, the legendary Roberto, nicknamed “Chizo”. He’s been rafting and kayaking for 20+ years and gives the sense that he could do this with his eyes closed. “All of that stuff they told you in the bus, forget it. You only need forward, backward and get down. Easy.” We feel slightly relieved. The guides are playful and in good spirits. “Don’t go with him, he lost someone yesterday”, “he’s never been in a raft before”, “he can’t swim, so look after him”. We nervously laugh as we set off down the river.

We immediately realise we are in safe hands and Chizo calmly instructs us a few “forwards”, “backwards”, “get down”. Practising these simple moves on the go and we’re well on our way. A few minutes later and we pull to the side and wait for the other rafts to catch up. “Get your breath, the next rapids are CRAZY, I’m scared” Chizo teases with a hint of seriousness. He’s not wrong, they are crazy, probably the most technical, fast-flowing descent on the whole 2.5h journey just 5 minutes in. Still we make it down unscathed. Sensing our nerves have settled, Chizo instructs us to paddle back towards the rapids in an attempt to ‘surf’ them. We get soaked in a cool blast of water and come out with huge smiles on all of our faces!

As we make our way down, we chat with Chizo. He’s a professional kayaker and has competed in international competitions in both rafting and kayaking. It seems he spends more time on water than land and still loves his job twenty years in. Fantastic. Alex thinks he was an otter in his past life.

Around the halfway point we stop for an opportunity to do a roughly 4m (12ft) cliff jump into the river. It’s a run and jump off the grassy bank. A small queue forms. Alex shows interest. Without even checking what’s involved she signs up and asks if we can jump in together. We line up and hold hands ready for a romantic moment plunging into the cold river together for Alex’s first cliff jump.

Except I chivalrously let go of her hand as we run towards the edge and I know she’s past the point of no return, clearing the edge. The noise of the river covers up any profanity and I follow her in. It’s a surprisingly high drop with a couple of seconds of air time. Your partner can always surprise you, twice in one day today!

We jump back in the raft and enjoy battling rapids for another hour or so before our floating adventure sadly comes to an end. We all want more, more, more. Alex beams with delight and I’m glad we both enjoyed it so much. We consider where we might be able to go rafting again. Mission successful.

We’re rewarded with fresh towels, bottles of water and a buffet of fresh fruit served on the underside of a raft.

All of our group heads back to La Fortuna and devours lunch while looking at some pictures taken during our adventure. It’s brilliant to see our nervous faces transition to big smiles after just a few shots.

In the evening we sort out some life admin and treat ourselves to a take-away from a local pollo frito (fried chicken) joint. Glugging down a couple of huge bottles of beer to celebrate surviving this exciting day.

Pit Stop in Liberia

On our way up to the border with Nicaragua, we’ve found a town called Liberia that we can stay in for a couple of extra nights before we depart Costa Rica. Our journey there is smooth sailing thanks to Alex working out the route and the three buses we need to take arriving and departing perfectly one after one another (with a little help from the locals pointing us in the right direction).

We arrive before midday and check into our fifth and final hostel in Costa Rica. We tuck into wraps, which we’re now sick of having eaten as lunch for the last few days. Without much to do around town today we relax in the nice garden (not our photo) and do some planning.

In the evening we go to the cheap supermarket and somehow spend well over an hour in there just buying a handful of items. We’re in the queue that long it almost deserves it’s own blog post.

Returning to the hostel I cook a spag bol while Alex chats to some other backpackers. Later on, in our 6 bed mixed dorm, just as we’re about to turn out the lights, an elderly lady arrives and looks a bit shell-shocked. Having just arrived from Canada where it’s currently minus twenty degrees to a windowless sweaty dorm must have been a shock to the system. Alex offers her bottom bunk but the lady kindly declines and says she fine in the top bunk (much braver than I am with my fear of falling out).

Poza Los Coyotes

For our final full day in the country I’ve picked out a local attraction that only opened in late 2020 and is most popular with locals. Wanting to beat said locals to it, we arrive at 9.30 with just a handful of cars in the car park. We pay our entrance fee and hire rubber rings to pootle down the nearby river between the rocky canyon. The water is a beautiful turquoise blue thanks to an abundance of minerals in the water. We walk 100 meters upstream and ‘elegantly’ hop into the rings and float away. Almost immediately we notice the disturbingly large arachnids clinging to the sides of the canyon ensuring we’ll stay well away from the edges.

We paddle against the current and work our way further upstream, trying and failing to push all the way up to a nearby rushing waterfall as the current is too strong. Later we explore the cueva los coyotes (cave) where we can again explore on our inflated vessels, it makes navigating on the water much easier as it goes from ankle deep to neck deep within a single step. A handful of tourists are around, some in rings like ours, some have paddle boards and some simply swim and splash around in the blue pools. There is the occasional rope swing and cliff jump but having seen the varying depth levels and lack of safety signage we decide against taking the risk.

We find a lovely spot in the shade beside some rapids. I play around in the waterfall using it as a natural jacuzzi while Alex floats up and down, cooling off with a splash of water when needed. We have some snacks and notice how busy it has become. Locals have turned up with BBQs, speakers, picnics and all sorts of water paraphernalia. It’s nice to see a spot that locals and tourists can enjoy without it feeling overpriced or unsafe.

After lunch we head back to where we started, determined to reach the waterfall this time. On a large rock in the water, a group of large local men slurp beer, burp and cuss. Slightly tainting the picturesque surroundings, we nickname them the walruses and move well away. With Alex in the ring and me swimming, we easily reach the powerful waterfall and float on home one final time.

Back at the hostel, we treat ourselves to a takeaway dinner, I go for pizza while Alex has taquitos (Little tacos) and a couple of beers. The lady from our room joins us and we enjoy chatting with her and our German roommate Celine for a couple of hours. The lady is called Enis and is 83 years young. She has traveled a lot in her life and still loves travelling and meeting people along the way. Preferring to stay in hostels and socialise with fellow travelers than feel lonely in a hotel room. She is also travelling without a phone(!) just a tablet that she uses to keep in touch with her loved ones back home. She ensures us we have plenty of time to see the rest of the world we won’t get to see on this trip.

We play a few games of Pictionary and Tiles and chat away into the night. Alex and I both think it’s fantastic and an inspiration seeing someone like that still travelling and living life to the full. It puts some of our travel troubles in perspective and we both hope we’re still able to travel at that age, though it probably won’t be in hostel dorms!

***********

Adventure – 2.5h of white water rafting, love it. Admiring the gigantic volcano. Relaxing in natur hot-springs watching Toucan TV. Frying plantain, pretty tasty with a pinch of salt. Calmly drifting around in the Coyotes pools.

Excitement – Finally meeting some Mancunians, shame they were total lunatics (James). Gaining full confidence in Roberto and being able to enjoy the rafting, and having the confidence to jump into the river (Alex).

Trauma – Sweaty rooms with next to no air flow. Queuing for over thirty minutes in a supermarket. Almost losing my sandal in the hot spring, turns out it floats! (Alex) The pre-raft panic. (Alex)

Our next stop in Costa Rica is to Monteverde. Despite our hostel hosts telling us the only way there is to go back to San Jose and starfish our way back east and then north, I’ve found a couple of suggestions online that it’s possible to go ‘direct’. Inspired by the many travellers we’ve met who just show up at bus stations and figure their journey out in the moment, we decide to do the same. Well, almost!

I have managed to find out that there’s only one bus we can take from mid-point Puntarenas to Monteverde. So, we set off as early as possible from our hostel to make sure we don’t miss it. The first leg is easy and goes smoothly. We could get used to this! Arriving to Puntarenas we now have four hours to kill until the transfer. A man offers to help us find information we need. I don’t want to be rude and figure I can confirm some of the things I wasn’t able to find out online. He confirms what I know, and we part ways, or so we think…

It’s already pretty warm in Puntarenas and with all our bags and James suffering from some sinusitis, we park ourselves up in a beachside bar and decide to try out something we’ve read on the blogs called a Churchill. On our menu, there is a Super Colossal Churchill, and we decide to go halves on it.

There are no less than five types of sugar in this: syrup, ice cream, sprinkles, condensed sugar, and canned fruit. Even for sugar-loving me, it’s too much.

This manages to successfully kill at least half our time though, and a group of loud and drunk (at 10:30am) Latinos perch up at the bar, smash a bottle, and proceed to give us good reason to move on. One even sports a tattoo off an AK47 on his face. Compared to Manuel Antonio, Puntarenas seems like the Costa del Sol of Costa Rica.

Our priority is to try and find somewhere with at least a fan, because we’re really starting to melt now as we hit midday. Everywhere is just beachfront open with no ventilation at all. Definitely catered to the Latinos and not the gringos in this part! As we plod towards a place on the corner, we hear “England!” and notice the ‘helpful’ man from before sitting at a bench we’re walking passed. I smile and say “Hi” back as we keep marching on, to him calling out “don’t forget to tip me on your way out”. This seems more like a threat than a reminder, and so the ‘helpful’ man has now turned into the ‘threatening’ man. As we sit down at the corner restaurant, we cool off under a big fan, but sweating at this perceived threat whilst we try and enjoy our overpriced burger and chips.

Time sufficiently killed, we make our way to the ‘bus-stop’ to get our bus out of dodge. If it wasn’t for the blogs, Google maps, or the gringos huddled in the limited shade, you’d never know this was a bus-stop. Thank you Internet! The driver helpfully shows me where to store our big backpackers in a way that means I essentially get to put my feet up the entire journey with loads of space, what a gem. Despite warnings from said blogs of the bus being full and needing to stand and not having aircon, we enjoy our second naturally air conditioned ride into the mountains.

I come to a realisation that I really enjoy bus journeys. There’s no Internet on these buses and I don’t have data. Reading makes me travel sick. So, all I can do is stare out the window and enjoy the ride, or try and make a dent in my neverending podcast queue. I love it. It forces me to take the time to process my thoughts and put my mind in order. No distractions but the amazing views. I got to enjoy these a lot when we started our travels, but recently we’ve not really had many. Once hated bus journeys are now something I miss. Put me on a bus over a plane any day!

As the bus, that is more like an inner city bus, struggles up through and over the windy and bumpy roads, the sun sets beside us, behind layers of green rolling cloud forest, creating a stunning, misty silhouette. It’s gorgeous in a whole different way to the sunset over the Pacific, and we realise just how high up we’ve come.

Soon enough, we arrive to Santa Elena, the town attached to the Monteverde tourist region. This area is smack-bang in the cloud forest, and we appreciate the cool air on our skin once more. A nice respite from the 40° real feel we left behind at the coast.

Monteverde Cloud Forest

We’ve read that spotting animals in the cloud forest is a hundred times harder than down at the coast, so we splash out on a guided tour. Our guide today is Mauricio, and he does an amazing job teaching us all about cloud forests and this particular one we are exploring today.

Our previous experience of a cloud forest was in Peru on the Inca Trail, and this brings back fond memories. There’s something about being in the cool, damp air, surrounded by an abundance of life that is just indescribable and I’m back in awe at the nature all around us. If you took just one foot squared of any part of this area, you’d struggle to count the variety of flora it contains. From different types of moss, to plants, to ferns, to flowers, to vines… and every variety of those on top of one another again. It’s just a beautiful, harmonious, peaceful and symbiotic place. I’d say that humans are insignificant here, a bit like how we felt on the Inca Trail, but Mauricio tells us how climate change is changing this region and drying it up. I guess humans have their impact here after all.

(Photo technically from Arenal but I didn’t take an equivalent in Monteverde)

Whilst Odi taught us about pachamama, Mauricio teaches us about the science of this area. Cloud forests only exist in The Americas. They happen when hot air meets cold air at a certain altitude. If you remember, this is a similar case for glaciers, but obviously a lot higher up! Cloud forests makes up only 1% of all forests in the world. We feel very lucky to have experienced it twice now.

We learn about three types of plants, epiphytes (60% of plant species here, mostly orchids), hemiepiphytes (typically vines), and parasites. The difference lies in how much they withdraw from the plant they are living on, from epiphytes that merely lay on top of the plant, to parasites that kill the host plant. It’s nice to know that these plants on top of plants on top of plants aren’t actually killing one another, but rather have found ways to survive together. We learn that most of the plants here get their nutrients from the air, rather than the soil, which is part of why they live so on top of each other to get into the cloud as much as possible rather than be rooted in the ground. Many of these plants start up above and grow downwards, which is why you have all the dangling roots everywhere. Fascinating.

We also learn that because this climate is just wet or more wet, the trees don’t have rings like they do in other climates. The rings form from each winter a tree lives through, and because there is no winter here, there are no rings!

Mauricio shines his light into a dark hole bordered by string and poles, as we peer in, I jump back to see a big, hairy tarantula.

We’re told how she’s blind and can only hunt by vibration. This explains how we can have a torch right in her face and she doesn’t move. Why so many eyes then?! The females apparently stay home to nest all the time, creating a ping pong full of up to 40 baby tarantulas. Once popped, they must scatter otherwise they would eat each other. Lovely.

Onto less terrifying fauna, we see a cute hummingbird out for nectar in a nearby flower. Hummingbirds are also only found in the Americas! They’re also the only bird that can fly backwards, as instead of flapping their wings, they move in a figure of eight. To do this fast enough, their heart beats ridiculously fast, meaning they have a ridiculous metabolism, and have to eat n times their body weight to survive. Sounds like my kind of bird. They are also the second most varied bird in the world. The most varied mammal is the bat!

The cute fauna department ups the game as some pig/raccoon creatures appear on our path. They’re snuffling around in the leaves and undergrowth for bugs, carefree of the gawking, camera-pointing humans all around them. Mauricio tells us they are called Coatis.

Next up in the cute stakes, it’s time for Mauricio to get out his telescopic lens and show us a nesting hummingbird.

Moving from cute to functional, one of our group spots a millipede that is black and yellow. One that monkeys apparently rub on themselves to deter mosquitoes because they have cyanide on their skin. Unfortunately not something recommended for humans.

After a few more lessons about the African Violet flowers, that many plants here are related to many of our house-plants, that much of the flora here are old cousins of our domesticated plants like the Arabica coffee plant (that you can identify because their leaves grow two-by-two opposite one another), it’s time to search for the elusive Resplendent Quetzal.

All around this forest are cousins of the avocado tree, that grow tiny avocados the size of olives. This means that in these trees you’ll often find fauna, including this spectacular bird. So we stand and stare into the trees hoping one will grace us with its presence, to eat, and then regurgitate it for half an hour. Yum.

Unfortunately, we have no luck here. The group moves on. I’m the last in the pack still staring out to the trees, where I think I see a slightly different green from the huge array before me. But then I lose my gaze. I tell James I think I saw something, to come back. It’s hard to find the same spot of green amongst a wall of green twice. Eventually I spot it again. An unmistakable turquoise. I tell James to get the group and binoculars, but our group has moved on so far that just as James makes it back to be with some borrowed binoculars, the turquoise blob flies off with a splash of red. Now I definitely know I’ve seen it, but it’s now gone behind a different tree. We make our way back to the group who are around the other side of the tree, still looking out. Just as I am about to say it was there, Mauricio spots it:

It’s not at the best angle, but we can see it, and Mauricio helps us take photos. It then flies off once more, but this time to the opposite side of the path, where we can see its magnificent tail feathers, that shimmer and change colour in the light:

After this win, it’s time to head out of the park and to the Hummingbird Cafe. One of the only free things available in this area. There are sugar water feeders all over and hummingbirds of all different colours and sheens flutter around us. There are turquoise, green, orange and purple ones. They’re glorious, as this lady on the left’s expression gives away:

Mauricio leaves us all entranced by the tiny fluttering, shimmering, flying joy, where James and I enjoy a clandestine packed lunch on a bench in the corner, before making our way back into the park. With Mauricio we only did one trail, and there’s a whole other five that need exploring. After all, we wouldn’t be who we are if we didn’t do ourselves in for the sake of making sure each trail is completed. Plus I love it in there, and we still haven’t seen a toucan, so let’s go exploring!

James is still suffering from his cold, but does a fantastic job powering through, even when we get to the final leg and realise we’re close to missing our transfer (and only way) back. Cue a quick run/walk through the final stretch to make it just in time.

Downtime and Night-time

The next day James is still under the weather and with everything here costing a small fortune to just look at, we decide to spend the day relaxing and recovering. At least, for the most part. I decide I want to do a Night Tour as my final farewell to Monteverde, and find the cheapest, well rated one possible. James opts to keep chilling out at the hostel.

After some last minute chaos and confusion getting to the tour, I find myself in a group with two women from the USA, two Brits and two Romanians, with our guide Olman. We’re each handed a torch and head into the dark.

Our first spot is an absolutely tiny pygmy frog, that’s about the size of a thumbnail:

After this we see a glass frog. Olman does a great job capturing its cute face up close:

Olman tells us about the area and the animals we can hear around us. The surroundings are alive with noise from nature. He tells us that everything we can hear around us is created by crickets, and only male crickets, as females don’t make noise. He teaches us that crickets with long antenna are night crickets, those with short antenna would be day crickets. One way to identify a male or female cricket is to look at its behind. If it looks like it has a stinger, then it’s a female, as that’s where it incubates its eggs.

We hear a rustle in the trees above, and spot a cousin of the Coati I’ve seen yesterday, the Olingo. It’s quite far away, but we can see it playing around. One of the women from the USA has a camera with a foot-long lens and she’s right in the undergrowth trying to get a photo. “Just be careful”, Olman warns, “we saw a snake right at arm-height in this part the other day”. The lady is undeterred whilst the rest of us spin our torches around us.

The olingo scampers off, and we’re back on the trail. As I shine my torch to the right, less than a foot away from my arm, I notice the distinctive bright green body of a snake, just like what we saw in Manuel Antonio. “Er, snake”, I calmly say, as I stop with my torch illuminating its body. Olman jumps not to action, but to panic… “Everyone, quick, over here, move away!” Olman orders. We move up the trail away from the snake as Olman explains this snake is not like the others. It’s actually a Side-Striped Palm Pit Viper.

This beaut is actually highly venomous and would kill us. It can deliver a deadly combination of venom that not only would coagulate our blood, but also paralyse and kill the muscles by the bite. There’s no anti-venom for this here. And here I was thinking it was just another harmless Green Parrot snake!

With myself now crowned head spotter, the group take Olman’s warnings more seriously about staying on the path, just as we hit a swarm of fire ants, and he orders us to run through, and then checks us all for any stowaways. I’ll be honest that I can’t tell if this is serious or a joke to make a bunch of gringos stomp around like muppets in the dark.

Olman tells me that snakes are far more dangerous in this country than any spider. Maybe that’ll help the arachnophobia, or it’ll spark a snake one! He points out a few spiders I don’t care to photograph, including a ‘fishing spider’ that contorts itself into a single stick-shape dangling from its thread, it looks just like a dead leaf or stick caught and you wouldn’t think anything of it. The more I learn about some spiders, the cooler I think they are. But I still wouldn’t want one in my room!

We are introduced to a stick-bug, “that lives and behaves just like a stick”, can you spot it?

Then it’s time for my favourite, the elusive toucan! This time, there’s no flying off as it’s literally caught sleeping. Mission accomplished!

Olman tells us about the strangling ficus tree I’ve now seen ample times, but this time we get to go inside one. The strangling ficus grows from the top down of an existing tree, wrapping its roots around the host, eventually cutting it off from all light. At this point, the original tree dies and rots into the group, leaving the ficus hollow. “Tell me, have you ever been inside a tree before?”, Olman asks us all as we step inside.

These trees really are like incredible mythical beings that we always imagine coming to life, like Ents in Lord of the Rings.

Our last two ‘exhibits’ are a citronella flower, best rub that all over me!

And a rhinoceros katydid (or long-horned grasshopper):

I’m more than satisfied with all that we’ve seen and get back to tell James all about my spot of the snake and seeing the toucan as we enjoy a dinner of roast chicken and chips from a takeaway.

Tomorrow we’re off to La Fortuna, known for its adventure tourism, content that we’ve made a good go at experiencing Monteverde.

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Adventure – Being able to properly appreciate a cloud forest after rushing through one on the Inca Trail. Running through the forest to make our ride home. Looking everywhere for a toucan, the search continues (James). Feeling like being in a real life Fern Gully (the original Avatar film).

Excitement – Seeing so much diverse wildlife and amazing plants (again). Seeing amazing night-life and being unknowingly close to death from a lethal snake. Finally seeing a toucan (Alex). Finding an appreciation for buses. Marvelling at the incredible shimmering colours nature can create on birds like the quetzal and hummingbirds.

Trauma – Sleeping next to a busy road with paper thin windows once again. WiFi in the hostel only working in the lobby. Squeezing extra people into a tiny mini-bus we’d paid good money for. The hostel shoo-ing away my transfer to the night tour. Threatening man. Paying £2 for the world’s smallest bell pepper. Churchill.

New Year, New Continent

Chapter Two of our year-long story is set in Central America. We start in Costa Rica and, wanting to avoid the dangerous durian gap between Colombia and Panama (essentially a no-man’s-land of warring drug gangs and illegal immigrants), we opt to fly over it. Our journey once again has us stop in Panama City to catch our connecting flight. A few people seem shocked we’re skipping Panama but we’re confident we’re not missing much, and would rather spend time in other parts of Central America.

We land at San Jose airport in the capital of Costa Rica. We’ve pre-arranged a taxi shuttle to take us 30 minutes from the airport as the hostel price was half the Uber estimation! Our man greets us with a hand-written sign with our names and hostel scribbled on, always a nice way to be greeted at an airport. He walks us round to where a car waits for us and loads our bags into the boot. “Any tip for me Sir?” He politely requests. Hmm, better get used to that in a country heavily influenced by American culture. I give him a dollar, which he seems happy with, and the driver sets off. On our way through San Jose there is a tonal shift from Colombia. At times it’s subtle, the driving is less frantic and the incessant beeping has stopped. Some of it is more obvious, huge signs advertise Denny’s burgers, McDonald’s, KFC, Subway and half of the billboards and shop names are in English. The radio station plays Green Day and R.E.M and we feel excited that our travel has taken on a new personality, albeit one injected with American consumerism.

We only have one night in San Jose, it’s more of a stopover city than a place you’d consider for tourism. There are three items on our to-do list for the afternoon, withdraw cash, buy bus tickets for our transit to Manuel Antonio tomorrow and purchase a SIM card. All three chores go smoothly and we’re shocked to be back at our hostel after a couple of hours with no hiccups! A first on our travels in a new country!

In the evening we head back into town for a cheap bite to eat, Costa Rica will be one of the more expensive countries in Central America so we’re aiming to make a headstart on our budget. Town is quite quiet after dark and most of the “soda” cafes (aka cheap eateries) are either closed or completely empty. We give up searching and, wanting to avoid an American fast-food chain, settle for a mid-range taco joint. Around town the streets are not busy, many of the people still about are trying to sell something, cigarettes, souvenirs or simply ask for money. Once again it’s uncomfortable to witness these desperate people living in poverty, hoping spare change from tourists can keep them going.

Heading to the West Coast

We have an early start, buying breakfast at the hostel to save time so we can eat and make our 8:30am bus. We’re slightly surprised to see the bus leaves right on time, and despite a standstill traffic jam, we still arrive ahead of schedule! Colombia time is a thing of the past.

On the way across the country, I talk to Alex about her Dad, Jeremy, who sadly passed away 19 years ago to the day, and now each day marking more days without him in her life than with him. It’s one of those awkward things talking about those that are no longer with us, but I’m keen to hear more about the person that makes up half of Alex’s being. She tells me about the time they would spend together in the garden, cycling around the area, how he picked her up from Otford station after school and she did her homework in his gardening car while he finished work. Their similar sense of humour and their bond over computer games and nerdy stuff.

Arriving in the town of Quepos, we make the somewhat foolish decision to walk it. With all of our bags and in the mid-day sun, an uphill hike leaves us panting for breath and sweating buckets as we arrive at the Planet B hostel. The young fresh-faced staff check us in and we decide it’s time to eat. A quick Google suggests the “Rasta Bar” next door is an ideal location and it’s not wrong. A friendly face welcomes us and gives us some advice on what to order. I have the Rasta Burger with it’s 12 toppings while Alex has the Land and Sea fries, topped with avocado, shrimp, nachos, pulled pork, plantain and cheese, yummy. For drinks, we opt for natural lemonade with a peppermint twist, it’s devine!

Alex finds a local viewpoint we can go to and watch the sunset. Around a thirty minute walk from our hostel (via getting a bit lost in the marina and boat yard) we arrive with plenty of time to watch the sun sink for another day. It’s a beautiful uninterrupted view of the Pacific Ocean and as with every good sunset there is a myriad of colours painted across the canvas of the sky. After the show, we head back through Quepos to pick up some supplies for the days ahead. Bored of cheap ham and tasteless cheese filling in our wraps, Alex has the smart idea of cream cheese, tomato and beans as an alternative. She’s on to a winner.

Back at the hostel, we take the opportunity to practice some yoga and mindfulness on the terrace, it’s a welcome break after a lot of transiting and planning. For the first time in a while, we’re staying in a four person dorm. Luck would have it that the other bunk is empty and we have the first night as just the two of us.

White Sands and Whiter Knuckles

The main attraction of this area is the Manuel Antonio National Park, but we have a spare day before our ticketed entrance allows us in. For the morning, we head to Esperilla Del Norte, a public beach that neighbors the main park. The beach is actually split into two, with the South half being inside the park and this North section sitting just outside it. We take the bus and find ourselves a spot in the shade of some palm trees. Despite the usual warnings of not being able to enjoy this beach because of all of the hawkers, we’re mostly left in peace. We actually find it amusing to see what the hawkers are flogging. One man pushes a mobile barbeque along the sand, selling grilled seafood and shrimp; another sells fresh coconuts; beer and water are dragged along in cool-boxes plus the usual stone bracelets and colourful shawls.

It doesn’t take long before Alex wants a dip in the sea. It’s like walking into a warm bath, I’ve never seen her get into the sea without baby steps and hyperventilating before! We both enjoy a dip in the waves that occasionally wash over our entire body before we realise what’s happening. We sprint across the red-hot sand back to our cool spot in the shade and dry off. I relax reading my book while Alex enjoys basking in the peaceful atmosphere. After a few hours, we head back to our hostel and enjoy the new wrap ingredients, with a side of crisps of course.

We take a couple of hours to recover from the heat in hammocks overlooking the hostel’s garden and enjoy a hit of air conditioning in the dormitory. Never ones to sit still for long, we’ve found a waterfall we can walk to from the hostel and attempt to reach it before sundown. We clutch to the side of the busy main road and I regret taking pavements for granted back home. Eventually we turn off and head down a gravel track. Just before we reach the trail that will take us to the waterfall I spot a huge red object in a tree above us. “It must be a kite” I guess. Nope, it caws and moves along the branch. It is in fact a scarlet macaw. I can’t believe my eyes, this beautiful red, blue and green feathered bird must be three foot tall at least. I never knew such magnificent birds existed at this size outside the world of pokemon. Annoyingly I could not get a good picture of it, this is what they should look like:

Picking up the trail again, we cross a very dodgy bridge with nothing to hold onto and several of the metal floor panels missing or not attached on one end and too loose to stand on.

This highly recommended and 4.2 star Google reviewed trek is a royal pain in the backside to hike. Trip-wire roots, slippy rocks, deep stream crossings and God knows what wildlife lurking around us make it a 30 minute trek to forget. The only other lunatics mad enough to do this are a French family of four we meet about halfway along the route. Their faces full of regret but determined to carry on and reach the cascading goal ahead. Upon hearing the gushing of water we realise we’re close and it soon becomes obvious there is only one real way into the pool below… jump. Alex immediately rules that out and the French family look sheepish, their children getting dangerously close to the precipice before their Dad claws them back to safety. We contemplate our next move.

Assume I’m saying some sort of prayer here…

I’ve not come all of this way for nothing, I’ll be the crash test dummy. I peel off my sweat-soaked clothes and pick a suitable spot to use as a diving board. As I teeter on the brink beside the stream rushing over the sharp edge, fear overwrites my dumbfounded bravery. It takes me a couple of minutes to compose myself (2 minutes 33 seconds actually as Alex filmed the whole debacle). It’s not the height per se, I’ve jumped off much higher but doubt clouds my mind. Is it actually deep enough, how do I get back up, how do I avoid that ledge of rock sticking out, what if I chicken out and mess up my jump? I reason with myself that it will be two seconds of free-falling terror followed by that rewarding, drug-like feeling of euphoria that washes over you after such a white-knuckle experience. Screw it. A couple of hand claps to make sure I’ve not frozen with fear and I take the plunge.

It’s a wonderful feeling as you sink deep underwater knowing you’ve done it and the ride is over, you want this fleeting feeling to last longer and I immediately want to do it again! Funny how the mind works. There’s a knotted rope to climb the 20ft cliff back to the top but it looks like hard work. I advise Alex doesn’t bother, if one of us hurts ourselves out here it’s going to be one hell of a journey back to civilization. Perhaps discouraged by my display, the French family soon disappear, thinking better of it. A local appears out of nowhere and plucks up the courage to jump from even higher up but even he looks apprehensive about it. I climb the makeshift rope, ignoring the giant millipede perched half-way up inside one of the handholds.

We need to get a shift on to make it back to our hostel before it gets dark. As we hop across rocks and roots we hear the disturbing sound of a howler monkey exercising it’s vocal cords. It sounds like it is just above us, grunting and growling like a possessed demon. We don’t have any food to tease it away with and my futile attempts of making sounds with sticks and stones does nothing to deter it. Thankfully a local friendly dog comes up to reassure us we’re safe and guides us home. We later read that howler monkeys are about as dangerous as hamsters…

Returning home, as we approach the bend in the road our hostel sits on, Alex has a brainwave. She suggests we go to the Rasta Bar for a refreshing mint lemonade and see if they will let us use their pool to cool off. They are happy to see us again and invite us to use their pool until 10pm if we want to! The crystal clear water and crisp temperature of the pool is incredibly cleansing. Feeling rejuvenated we enjoy our lemonades over a game of Uno and return to our hostel for the gourmet meal of instant noodles and Oreo cookies for desert.

Manuel Antonio Park

Our final full day in this tropical region of Costa Rica and we saved the best until last. Our timed entry to the park is 8-8:40am, plenty of time for pancakes and fruit with scrambled eggs at the hostel first. Again we take the bus to save our legs and avoid the heat, which is already baking hot as soon as the sun comes out. We avoid a couple of tour guides trying to lure us into their group “special discount just for you” and “you’ll miss so much without a guide” are their sales pitches. We kindly decline and join the queue of gringos waiting to get in. It’s forbidden to take food into the park and our bags are briefly searched on the way in. Someone from our hostel said she managed to sneak food in, but we believe it’s better for the animals in the park if we don’t do that. As we near the front of the queue two macaws elegantly fly over our heads. The first animal sighting of the day, we hope they’ll be many more.

Inside the park, the large tour groups stick to the main path, we take the smaller side path that runs parallel without the blockades of tourists in the way. We keep our eyes peeled and try to walk slowly to improve our chances of spotting something. There’s plenty of stunning flora around us but apart from a few huge webs glistening in the sun, we don’t see any sign of fauna yet. We pass through a mangrove swamp section, the paths here are raised above the ground so we don’t need to worry about what we’re stepping on or in.

We reach a beach, the other half of the one we visited yesterday, it’s practically empty but we agree we’ll return later when we’re tired out and want a rest. Passing back through the disconcerting swamp of mangroves we’re back in the forest and find our first creatures. Not ones we expected to see either. Grey and white bodied crabs with bright red legs and pincers have come out of their hidey holes to say hello. At first we just spot the big guy at the back but the more we look, the more we can see, camouflaged in the dusty sand. We count around a dozen and watch them for a while, they stay perfectly still and don’t scurry back into their den when a tour group passes by.

A few minutes later in the dense tropical forest, we see a tour group on the main path pointing up above where we’re walking. I get a good look at a large sloth making it’s way down a tree. The tour guide from the group rushes over to where we are “Ah you guys found the best view, perfect”…”Could you just move over a bit” he asks as he sets up his spotter lens and beckons his tour group over to where we’re stood. Cheeky git! We still have a good view as the chunky mammal makes it way down the tree. It pauses and looks like it wants to descend further but is perhaps disturbed by 40 people staring up at it, most with lenses in their hands.

We reach the fork in the path where the only cafe in the park sits, inside a cage to deter the monkeys. A chalkboard outside indicates the prices, £4 for a bottle of water, scandalous. We praise our Water-To-Go bottles, they’ve saved us a fortune and have done some good for pachamama too. There’s a handful more sloths in the trees above the cafe. There is a pair of them together, a mother and her cub, though it’s hard to make out what’s happening high up in the trees with their brown moss covered fur blending them in with the branches.

We walk passed the cafe and higher up into the forest. A bit of rustling above us reveals a white-faced monkey, oddly it seems to be on its own and passes us by without a glance. The route climbs up to a viewpoint over-looking the beach we touched earlier on. A thunderous growl from a pack of howler monkeys rumbles somewhere below us. A trio of tourists are taking a picture of something next to us while we sit and catch our breath. “What is it?” I ask, expecting it to be another monkey or sloth. “A toucan” the Aussie girl replies “there’s heaps of them around here”. We’ve wanted to see a toucan since Simon told us he’d spotted one on the Lost City trek. Of course as we stand up to get a look at this one it flies deeper into the canopy before we can even get a glimpse. Oh well I’m sure we’ll see one soon.

After some more exploration we pick up a new path taking us to a picturesque beach alcove. Here a huge iguana basks on the rocks soaking up all the sun it can get. We enjoy some shade and breeze while watching the ocean waves crashing upon the volcanic rocks.

Our next destination is the main Esperilla Del Sur beach. Making our way there we spot a large pack of howler monkeys. Most are resting in the shade of the canopy high above us. One even laying on its back, looking up, its fingers touching like it’s meditating. The only active one is a baby, playfully swinging from branch to branch in its jungle playground, as the adults try and ignore it. A few meters ahead, another pack of monkeys. This time the white-faced species we saw earlier, they casually climb around and above the tourists in awe of them. To our right, a group of squirrel monkeys, half the size of the other species, navigate across the vines. Everywhere you look there is a monkey doing something! They come close to us but never attempt to pinch sunglasses or investigate a backpack. They seem happy just clambering about and picking bugs off leaves and playing in the trees. Oddly enough, at the same time that all of this is going on, a deer appears in the foliage, looking as tame and bewildered as they usually do.

Moving on from the monkeys we reach the Southern beach. From here we can see the Northern side covered in sunbeds, parasols and other clutter. No such thing here, just sand, palm trees and ocean. We find a spot to dump our stuff and note the paw prints in the sand, there are no dogs here so it must be a monkey’s prints! We paddle around in the warm waters, read, rest and play sudoku and agree it’s one of the most idyllic beaches we’ve ever seen.

We make our way back along the beach, once again picking up the platform above the mangrove swamp to the main pathway that was full of tour groups earlier on. We discuss what animals we’d love to see before we leave. Alex wants to see a toucan, while I’d be interested to see a snake. “We’ll never see one of those” she claims.

Yet as we approach the main route, Alex’s ears pick up the S word from a nearby guide. We get closer to the group to try and spot it. At first it’s hiding in the hole of a tree but it soon emerges and begins ascending up. It’s a beautiful female Green Parrot Snake. Working it’s way up the trees and vines with the elegance of a professional gymnast.

We walk one more pathway through to a waterfall at the back of the park, desperate to try and spot a toucan, but to no avail. We admit defeat and leave the park, taking the bus back to our hostel for a cold shower and a bite to eat.

In the evening we head to El Avion. An unusual restaurant built around the fuselage of an old aircraft. It has glorious views out over the ocean where we will watch the sunset. We enjoy our first beer of the New Year, Alex states that this area is up there with some of her favourite places in the world, it’s hard to disagree. We order a couple of cocktails to drink while watching the sun go down. Around this exact time, a couple of white-faced monkeys appear and most of the tourists jump to their feet to get a look, and of course a picture. It’s quite a sight to see thirty-plus people all pointing their phone lenses at a creature just going about it’s business. Though we do admit if it had been a toucan we’d have behaved exactly the same! We decide to head back to the Rasta Bar for their delicious Land and Sea fries and a final peppermint limonada for our final meal in this glorious part of the world.

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Adventure – Wildlife spotting. Noticing the change in culture from Colombia.

Excitement – Being surrounded by troops of various monkeys, and them not caring about our presence one bit. Jumping off a waterfall. Finding beach paradises.

Trauma – The heat. Aggressive beggars. Tourists flocking to see a monkey and blocking our view just as the sun went down.