We’re starting to wrap up our time in Texas and preparing to resume our trip in Ecuador. One of the things on my to-do list is to make backups of all our photos, documents, etc.
This is also a great excuse to browse through our collection of memories. There are quite a few. Even I’m a little impressed with how much we’ve done in the past year.
We’ve generally avoided taking any videos on the trip, but here is one time in Costa Rica that I’m glad we did. There isn’t much to it, but watching it just makes me smile.
Well, the time has come for us to put in a little time on some formal education for the kid.
Alphabet in the sand, but Bode still refuses to write lower case. He says he doesn’t like those little letters. He doesn’t care when I say it will look like he’s screaming when he writes. He says he is screaming when he writes.
We’re learning lots about the fish and wildlife.
Physical Education credit, too.
Working with tools. Enjoying nature and having fun!
I bet you weren’t expecting that palindrome, were you?
Next up was the border crossing into Panama. I’ve heard this particular border was fairly simple and I wouldn’t have to worry about corruption that plagues other crossings in Latin America. This was correct, but most folks cross the border in the south on the gleaming new Pan-Am highway. We decided to use the only other border crossing there is – in the north near Sixaloa.
It turns out this one is a challenge because of geography. This is a little-used crossing that consists of a train bridge that was originally constructed by the United Fruit Company for transporting banana crops to the ports. Now, the train tracks are closed and planks have been nailed on either side of the rails. It’s a road.
Like all border areas we’ve seen, the road turns to absolute shit about 10 km from the border and you have to bounce your way up to la frontera. No biggie. Once you get there, it’s the usual scene, but actually fairly quiet as far as borders go. You pull over and park and walk up to the Costa Rica immigration office and fill out some paperwork to exit the country (the same form you filled out to enter) and you get stamped out of Costa Rica. Same goes for the vehicle papers at a desk a few meters away. Other than a few questions about where you’re going and when you’re returning to Costa Rica, it’s pretty painless and costs nothing.
Next is the more difficult part. Crossing the bridge.
No one – even the local police milling about – actually control the traffic on the bridge. it’s a free-for-all. People are everywhere and there is absolutely no telling if someone is coming the other direction. We asked the police if we could cross and they said yes. We made it maybe 50 meters onto the bridge before we saw a huge banana truck coming right at us. Fortunately, everything moves really slow and the continual stream of pedestrians limit the speed.
Since there’s no way I was going to win a game of chicken with a banana truck, I throw it into reverse and back up – careful not to run anyone over – back off the bridge and wait. And wait. Things move slow.
We try again, but the same thing happens and we back off the bridge again. The bystanders are indifferent. We send Doug out ahead to scout out our chance and he returns with the news of more trucks coming. We wait some more and eventually he gives us the thumbs up to try again.
When we get to the other side, there are a few official looking people who want know what we are up to. Oh, and we get fumigated – with the windows down. I’m sure the guy with the switch had a good laugh over that one. I probably won’t get any mosquito bites on my left arm for a week.
I actually have to pay $3 USD for getting sprayed and then another $1 USD each for ‘stickers’ for the passport (Bode didn’t have to pay.) Then we get the actual passport stamps and I forget if we had to pay anything. I had a ‘helper’ guy buzzing around me trying to sell his services for the vehicle permisso and insisted I would be waiting all day without his help. I declined.
I give my title, license, passport and some photocopies to the guy at the vehicle window and he is extremely helpful. He actually gets up and walks me 100 m down to the insurance office (on the left, across the footbridge, and left again at the end of the footbridge.) I think we paid $13 USD for a month of mandatory insurance and went back to the vehicle office where I went inside and the official filled out everything. All I had to do was sign my name.
Easy, but still about and hour and a half for the whole crossing. Oh, and the official currency is the mightly USD, so no more conversions for a while.
The entire time, Angela and Bode waited in the car (we drove down off the train tracks and parked nearby) while local kids pawed all over the bus.
A few miles down the road, we realize something different about Panama. The roads are paved – all of them. We used to be able to navigate by road condition, but here they are all nicely paved… even the side roads. It’s confusing.
Naturally, we get lost and for the first time ever in my life I get stopped by bananas crossing the road. We take this as a bad sign and turn around and eventually some firemen point us in the right direction. We didn’t even have to ask – they took one look at us and pointed us down the road.
More from in and around Playa Uva. I still can’t understand why everyone back in Puerto Viejo has left it to just us.
I really like it here and am in no hurry to leave – even after several days of just sitting on the same beach. I was hoping to see a ‘for sale’ sign on one of the local little houses here, but no luck.
But, Angela and Doug are ready to get moving, so I guess it’s finally time for Panama.
We drove all of about 10 miles out of Puerto Viejo until we found a little stretch of beach called Playa Uva. We were thinking of getting a little farther down the road – maybe cross into Panama – but it was literally too good to pass up.
The turn-off was barely marked and at the end of the short road is a restaurant. If you turn right and keep following the dirt, you eventually drive into something that we think is a protected park or reserve area… there aren’t really signs. Regardless, it was pretty clear that we could just pull up under a palm tree and park and camp.
Angela’s parents had also brought us a replacement cheapo awning, so it was a good time to get our house back in order.
The water was blue and clear and we could just walk right out and snorkel a chain of small reefs. Bode was all over it – we thought we would be feeding him through the snorkel at the end of the day.
Despite being so close the Puerto Viejo, we only saw maybe 10 or so people all day. There was plenty of beach to share. Our own little slice of paradise.
After Cahuita, we went the 10 or so miles down the road to Puerto Viejo. This town is a real tourist draw, but the precise reason why escapes me. There is plenty of infrastructure in place, with restaurants, hotels, grocery stores, etc, but the beach out front lacks appeal. Many of the people we talked to were dropped here ‘for free’ after some other tour in Costa Rica. It is definitely on the backpacker circuit and seems to be Party Central on the Caribbean side of the country.
Only Bode was up for an all-night party, so we started creeping out of town until we found the Jaguar Rescue Center. Despite it’s name (there are no jaguars,) it’s actually a really great stop if you are interested in getting up close and personal with some local animals.
All the animals here get brought in after being confiscated pets, found injured, illegally sold, etc. They take care of everyone until they are able to be released back into the jungle. In some cases, they can’t be released, which also makes this a bit of a personal zoo for the owner.
Of course, we went for the monkeys. The tour starts by walking right into the monkey pen. They have 10 or so howlers of various ages – all of whom are eager to jump right on your head. There is no prodding or training here. The monkey do whatever they want, but it mostly involves using the visitors as climbing structures. Heads make good chairs.
There were a few rambunctious tenants, so the guide told us that if we needed to, we should pick them up by their tails. Bode was clearly listening, because right then he leaned over and picked up an unsuspecting monkey by it’s tail. He must have needed to do it.
The tails are pure muscle and more like a long finger. Pretty cool.
Every afternoon, they open the pen and take all of them out to the jungle to frolic. If they find another group and want to leave, they are free to go. So far, two of them have found a mate (for some reason they are all females.)
Next were the sloths. They have two of them and the same rules apply. They take them our every afternoon and hang them on a tree and see if they will go anywhere. They have a two-toe and a three-toe sloth sloth here and they are pretty interesting to see close-up.
Last were an endless line of snakes and one jungle cat – the name escapes me, but not a jaguar – a small one that was actually being sold along with a box of kittens (or so the story goes.)
We pulled into Cahuita and found sleepy little town right on the edge of the National Park. You follow the main road into town and after that it sort of aimlessly meanders off in different directions and narrowly weaves between people’s houses and cabinas.
There’s a beach right in town, but you are better off crossing the footbridge at the southern edge of town into the National Park. Here, they appreciate a donation for admission and you can hike their trails to find your own little slice of beachfront for the day.
Angela was talking to the park ranger and mentioned off-hand that she hadn’t seen a sloth in Costa Rica yet. The ranger walked about 10 meters, looked up into a tree and pointed. There you go.
They like to sit curled up at the tree-tops for week-long stretches. From a distance they just look like a furry bird’s nest. They don’t really move around, so you really have to be deliberately looking for them. Apparently, they only come down for their weekly poop at the base of the tree.
We hiked into the park and put Bode in charge of the day’s photos. He though it would be a really good joke to cut our heads off in all of them, but we were on to him… eventually.
Not far down the trail, we spotted (heard) howler monkeys and we looked up to find they were all around us. We’ve been around monkeys for so long it almost feels normal to have them in the trees above us.
We plopped down in a shady spot in the sand and commenced our day at the beach. Now, white faced monkeys appeared directly above us and started dropping their fruit peelings on us.
A good hike. A beautiful beach. An animal show.
This isn’t quite paradise, but I think we’re getting close.
