Lake Louisa State Park, Florida

Lake Louisa State Park is mere 30 minutes from Orlando. I had no idea such an exquisite place could possibly exist so close to a cement city filled with ridiculous wizard-shaped gift shops. This park encompassed all the breath-taking beauty of untouched nature, yet it is well-maintained and comfortable. The park contained three lakes, but I really only saw two. A short, winding drive through central Florida’s hills brought us to the beach of Lake Louisa. Believe it or not, this lake actually had a white-sand beach alongside a small forest. Little pathways allow travelers to explore the natural beauty of Lake Louisa and its surroundings. We bundled up, had a little picnic and departed to warmer grounds.

We made our way to our cabin, which was positioned on a little hill and overlooked the immaculate Lake Dixie. The cabin had two big bedrooms, two bathrooms, a full kitchen and a living room equipped with an electric fireplace. My personal favorite part was the wrap-around porch with 3 rocking chairs and a picnic table. Sitting on the balcony, I took in the tranquil scene before me. There were about 500 feet of brush between the cabin and the lake. Spanish moss-draped trees lined the lake, giving it a majestic look and feel. The chilly air made it feel like I was far from Florida. I took a little walk down to the lake just as the sun was setting. A few evening birdsongs accompanied me as I strolled along and snapped pictures. The sky slowly evolved from blue, to red, to orange and faded to grey as the sun disappeared below the line of trees in the distance.  One thing I love about winter, I managed to walk along a lake at sunset and escape without a single mosquito bite.

Aside from its innate beauty, Lake Louisa State Park has a lot to offer. They have canoe rentals, all kinds of walking trails, a beach, and a campground. I walked around Lake Dixie, which is about 2 miles. The scenery changed several times in that short distance and I took advantage of several overlooks. I finished my short hike with pictures of scores of lily pads gathered near the lake’s shore, of an armadillo absent-mindedly searching for food, of oranges growing in the groves planted along the road, of dangerous spike-bearing vines reaching out to capture an unsuspecting passerby, and many other unique sights. Of all the places I’ve seen in Florida, this is by far my favorite. So close to home, yet with the feel of a Virginia getaway, Lake Louisa State Park offers the calm serenity that’s worth the trip, even if you’re not a local.

Lake Ridge Winery - Clermont, Florida

The Lake Ridge Winery was not my first winery, but it was the first I’ve visited at an old enough age to appreciate.  Not quite 2 hours from my home-town, I certainly didn’t have very high expectations of the general area, but I went with no preconceived notions of the winery itself. I must say, even before I arrived at the actual location I could see that the area far exceeded the sub-par scenery that I had expected. Florida’s winters tend to bring more brown and gray than any other color, but on the drive to the winery I saw some hints of the yellows and reds you’d expect to find in the brilliant foliage of a New England fall. We passed orange groves and open fields, even the occasional bare land with absolutely no development. It was a nice way to precede my winery experience.

Due to the unusual cold snap, the winery employees and guests made every effort to stay inside whenever possible. We started our visit in the toasty gift shop, which was home to a number of amusing odds and ends. Among the many gadgets was a 6-piece wine care set. Now, who needs 6 pieces of equipment to care for a bottle of wine? I asked around and found that, in fact, many people do. A label cutter, a cork screw, a reusable cork…and 3 other extremely important pieces that I can’t remember. I entertained myself by reading birthday cards which were arranged by the year, highlighted a specific wine, and gave trivia about the year of birth on the card. During the year my grandmother was born, IBM entered the typewriter business (here’s to you, Grandma).

We began our tour with a short video of the history of the winery and its owner. I was surprised to learn that the first US-made wine came out of Jacksonville, Florida, more than 100 years ahead of California. Yet another thing a Floridian can be proud of, right alongside NASA, the Keys, Disney (if you count that as a source of pride), and I’m sure some record for hurricanes.  I learned about the muscadine grape, which is the only grape in the US south that can produce wine. It naturally only makes sweet wines, but thanks to the University of Florida, it has been genetically crossed with other grapes and can now produce the entire spectrum of wines, including reds, whites, sweet wines, dry wines, and even sparkling wines.

After the video we took a short trip to the cold and unwelcoming outdoors. The view was magnificent to my Floridian eyes because there wasn’t a building in sight. Nature, in all its winter colors, stretched on as far as I could see. The grape vines probably look nicer in the summer, considering that they were dead, gray and crispy during this trip, but it was a pleasant sight nonetheless.

The last and best part of our winery tour was the wine tasting. We started with the driest wine and worked our way down to the sweetest. One quarter-glass at a time, I tried all kinds of red and white wines while I read the descriptions. I can say for a fact that I did not taste blueberry in any of the glasses I tried, but the descriptions said that I should have in at least 2 or 3. I guess I still have a long way to go before I can say that I’m a wine connoisseur. Continuing my education, I learned that I love dry wines and really have no taste at all for sweet wines, which to me taste like some terrible concoction of a once-good wine mixed with some sugary sin to please a child’s palate. I hear that some people really love sweet wines, but I’m certainly not one of them.

All in all, my trip to the Lake Ridge Winery was a very enjoyable experience. It was a nice and unexpected destination that I think every local should at least try to visit, especially since it’s winter and the mosquitoes are on a hiatus.

Bocas Del Toro, Panama: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

This post is about a month old by now, but better late than never, right?

After over a year of trying to go to Bocas, I finally made it a couple weekends ago. Two days of traveling brought me from San Jose, Costa Rica to the Caribbean town of Puerto Viejo where we bunked for the night. Rather than take the cheap route and rent a tent for $4, which we usually do, we sprung for a $20/night hotel. That, of course, turned out to be a mistake that I realized the next morning. I lifted the pillow and found a cockroach under it, then took a shower and noticed a good dozen spiders hanging out around the shower head. I quickly moved on, though, as I had a long bus ride to the boarder ahead of me. We boarded at 6am, went to the boarder, split a van fair with a European couple, then hopped on a water taxi that finally took us the main island around 11am.

The Good:
Bocas del Toro is a beautiful string of islands that can take the breath away from even the most well-traveled tourist. The pure green trees, the blue sky, puffy white clouds, and crystal clear water created a scenery worthy of Thomas Kinkade's attention. As I stepped onto the dock I noticed that the water below was filled with tiny fish frantically swimming about and several starfish doing whatever starfish do on the shallow bottom. I knew immediately that this was a place I would never forget. We walked around the little town, found a nice $15/night hotel (cockroach- and spider-free), and a plethora of fun restaurants to try. First things first, though. We dropped our stuff off in the room and went straight to the docks to find a snorkeling tour. As luck would have it, we were the only two tourists on the trip so we had a little slice of the Caribbean to ourselves. We swam around for a bit, saw some seaweed, then all of a sudden I was surrounded by sea life. I found a little patch with all kinds of fish and plants. I even saw a purple jellyfish. I would have loved to stay and explore a bit more, but the water became a little too rough to enjoy it.

Once back on dry land, we strolled around, stopped at all the artesian's booths, and looked for a restaurant. We ate at several unique places during our weekend at Bocas, but my two favorites were a vegetarian restaurant and a Chinese restaurant. When we went to the Chinese place we were greeted by two playful children. The parents were nowhere to be seen so the older girl gave us a menu and told us to sit down. Finally the dad came to talk to us, and boy was it an experience trying to talk to him. He didn't speak English, I don't speak Chinese, and we both have difficult accents in Spanish. Fortunately Rene had a little luck deciphering his words. We eventually figured out everything and I had some of the best wontons, chicken and rice that I've yet tried. We stayed for about an hour and watched as a storm developed and crept its way to our island. We decided to leave only because we wanted to make it to our evening coffee house, La Buga, before the downpour began. I had my cappuccino, Rene had a fruit smoothie, and we sat with the European couple that we seemed to run into every day. I loved the flow of our conversations. The four of us exchanged our stories about Bocas, with four different accents  - Costa  Rican, United States, Spanish, and French. Their 6-year-old daughter danced around us and sang the whole time.

Our other tours throughout the weekend took us to an isolated island with a magnificent beach. We walked all around, which took about 30 minutes. At some points we had a swim a little, we had to climb a little, and we had to duck and roll a little, so the trip was never boring. We finally made it to where we started from, set up camp, and went swimming. The initial chill of the water quickly melted away as the pleasant warm current covered us. We splashed around and took pictures until the boat came back for us. .We went to a little restaurant on the water. Now, when I say "on the water", that's exactly what I mean. The restaurant was built on a dock right over the water. As we ate, I looked down at the floor planks, then through them to see the little waves churning. I had some delicious fried chicken and Rene had a traditional Caribbean chicken and rice dish. We took off once again to snorkel. We went to a spot that was relatively shallow, but with no shortage of nature to see. The reefs were some of the most incredible that I've ever seen. I saw all kinds of plants that looked like everything from tall grass to brains. There were sea urchins, colorful fish, and the wonderful crackling sound of the fish munching in the water. I spotted another jellyfish and frantically felt around for Rene's leg so he could take a picture of it. All of a sudden I was aware that there were jellyfish everywhere. There was a current that was bringing a whole swarm of them right to us. I decided that this was the end of my snorkeling adventure and very carefully swam as fast as I could against the current and back to the boat. I was really disappointed to have to cut my snorkeling time short in a place with such an amazing variety of life to see. Soon, everyone else had the same idea as me and we were all back on the boat. What happened next? A woman on the tour with us told us that she's a diver and that this type of jellyfish was totally harmless. Of course, by that time we were already well on our way back to shore and it was too late to finish our tour.

The Bad:
It seemed to me that the people who worked in Bocas think of tourists as a easy targets. For example, I paid for my hotel in advance on the first day. The total came to $45, I gave the woman $60, and she put in the drawer and said thanks. It took about 10 minutes of arguing to get her to open the drawer and check. She subsequently realized that she owed me $15. The next day, she asked when we were going to pay. I guess she thought that I'd forgotten that I'd already paid for all 3 nights. Everyone we talked to had a similar experience. One person told me that he bought a few beers, that cost about 50 cents, and a bag a chips and they charged him $30. This poor guy didn't realize he was being ripped off because he's Australian and used to their currency, he had just spent several weeks in Costa Rica using colones (500 of which is about $1), and this was his first day in Panama using US dollars. If traveling to Bocas del Toro, I would recommend being very conscientious with your money.

The Ugly:
Nothing at all. There is absolutely nothing in Bocas that is ugly. The scenery is exquisite, the streets are clean with little artesian booths scattered around and all the restaurants are open and inviting. Everywhere you look, you see a beautiful Caribbean view and the atmosphere of a relaxed beach community.

Home

"One's place of residence" is Webster's first definition for the word "home" (http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/home, if you don't believe me). The word itself can conjure up images of family and warmth, possibly a holiday reunion, and can bring comforting feelings of love and tranquility. I'm leaving Costa Rica tomorrow to return "home", hence the topic of today's post.

Throughout my life and travels, I have found that the word "home" is quite variable. Sometimes, it is much more than simply my "place of residence," however sometimes it is much less. After an exhilarating day of snorkeling, swimming, and burning my tender white skin on a beautiful Costa Rican beach, "home" is the cheap, bug-infested hotel to which I return to sleep. When I left Europe, I felt like I was "home" when I landed in a US airport, even though it was nearly a thousand miles from where I lived. Once again, I felt "home" when I landed in the Orlando airport, a 1-hour drive from my house. I was "home" again when we took our exit off the highway and I was once again on familiar roads. Finally, I was "home" when we walked in the front door of the house where I grew up. 

Perhaps I feel that my true "home" is where my family is, where I spent my whole childhood and adolescence. Does that ever change? Will I someday feel so at "home" somewhere else, or will I just create another version of "home" and have two? When I was in college, "home" was my dorm - 3 actually, since I had a different one every year. When I studied abroad in Costa Rica, "home" was the house of my  host family. When I studied abroad in Panama, "home" was the house I shared with two other students. When I leave for the weekend now, "home" is my boyfriend's house, where I've lived for the past 6 months. Tomorrow I will fly "home", to where my family is. How is it that I can leave "home", fly for 4 hours and arrive at "home"?

Why on Earth do I exert my brain power thinking of these things...?

LIGA!! A Live Soccer Game

I finally had the opportunity to go to a live soccer game! I've been wanting to go to one since I studied abroad in Panama back in January 2009. It turned out to be everything I wanted and more.

First things first. We arrived at the stadium two hours early to get a good seat. Tickets, by the way, were only $10 each and this was a semi final game. The streets were impassable for cars and overflowing with excited fans dressed in red. We were searched and made to give up any beer and coins (apparently they're a danger) before we could enter the stadium. Our section was packed and the only seats available were in the front row. I still don't quite understand how the front-row seats are the less desirable ones, but it worked out perfectly for us. The team's band set up about 20 feet from us so we were literally at the center of the energy. I'm not a big fan of soccer, but I spent the whole 90 minutes attentively watching and cheering along with the most devout followers.

In Costa Rica, soccer teams have an element that I don't think our teams have in the US. They have what we might call "official fans". There were thousands of them at this particular game. They have their own section and several tremendous flags. They spend every second of the game, halftime included, jumping, singing, and cheering on their team. They call themselves "La Doce", which means "The Twelve" and is a comparison to the 12th player on the team who goes to every game just to cheer. La Doce, the band, and all the cheers from a stadium of 18 thousands fans created an atmosphere of unbelievable energy and excitement. It was like the stadium was filled with an electrical charge that constantly flowed through us all. Every pass, every block, every foul was another jolt of power in our veins. Every man, woman, and child spent the game on their feet with their eyes glued to the field and their hearts full of anticipation. In the end, our team didn't let us down. They shut out the opposition with a 3-0 victory :). I think this game might have converted me into a soccer fan. I bought my first soccer shirt as I left the stadium as a memento of my first game and its effect on me.

Manual Antonio

Last weekend I had the luxury of experiencing Costa Rica's second most-visited national park, Manual Antonio. Located on the Pacific shore, Manual Antonio has the benefit of both the gorgeous ocean view and the wildlife-packed forest all wrapped up in a nice little package for us tourists. We walked up a well-worn dirt path, struggled through the hordes of tourists, and passed a monstrous hotel which was built right outside the edge of the park. If I could have removed the swarms of tourists dressed for a safari and the imposing hotel, then our entrance would have been picture perfect.

After we paid for our tickets we made our way to the trail. It was still soaked from a recent storm so a misstep could have resulted in thick mud up to the knees. Luckily, I managed to avoid that pitfall.  The forest was filled with all kinds of animals. There were tiny insects who found their way to my t-shirt, I saw a sloth doing absolutely nothing in the top of a tree (now that's the life by my standards), and there was a never-ending supply of plants and flowers of every shape and color.

At the end of the trail was my favorite part, the beach. This beach was certainly not the beach I imagined. When I think of a Costa Rican beach, I think of clear water, white sand, a sunset, and of course there's no one there but me. This particular beach in the Manual Antonio park was none of those things. Everywhere I looked there was a tourist. There were little pieces of plastic, including a plastic fork, floating in the water, and there was driftwood everywhere. One more unexpected appearance made the trip unforgettable. Monkeys. There were dozens of monkeys all around. I couldn't believe my luck! They were everywhere and they practically posed for pictures. Some of them ran right up to people. I even saw a monkey unzip an unattended backpack on the sand in search of food. One monkey strutted right up to a man eating a sandwich and snatched it out of his hand, and apparently that's not such an uncommon sight. He then scampered up a tree to feast on his treasure. It was a hilarious sight with plenty of photo opportunities. Nature 1, Humans 0.

After practicing my paparazzi skills on the monkeys, I finally made my way to the water. I waded out past the garbage buildup and found that it was quite pleasant. The water is shallow enough to stand for a good distance so I could find a place that wasn't surrounded by strangers. I was still in shock about the monkeys when I looked over at the rocks beside the water and saw a huge iguana sunning himself. Soon there was a girl iguana and the first was no longer so interested in the sun. Then, predictably, the national geographic scene began and I had to look away to give them some privacy. As I moved my gaze and scanned the beach, I saw a pack of raccoons ransacking someone's beach bag. One of them took off with a plastic bag because it had an energy bar inside. The poor guy tried to chase the raccoon, but to no avail. Nature 2, Humans 0.

I have never seen so much wildlife anywhere except a zoo. Even if the animals beat the humans in every battle I witnessed, I had a great experience and was thrilled to have been so close to the action. I left the beach with a huge smile on my face and slight burn on my shoulders. Nautre 2, Humans 1.

Roma Caffe

Dear loyal readers (or should I say "reader"?). I must apologize because this will be my first post without a picture. A picture is worth a thousand words, they say, so I am sorry to deprive you of the usual visual addition. I hope my words will suffice. So, why no picture, you ask. There's no picture because I didn't expect a cup of coffee with a couple friends to be a blog-worthy experience. From now on, my camera will become a permanent fixture in my purse to avoid the repetition of this unfortunate tragedy.

We noticed this little cafe on the corner, called Roma Caffe, and decided to make a point to try it out. We went last night with a couple friends to the new restaurant. The owner talked to us for a bit and told us that it's only been open for about 4 months. I would describe it as being 70% coffee house and 30% bar. It was nice mix that made for a fun yet relaxed environment, and without the kinks that you'd expect from such a new place.

The waiter showed us to our table, which was front and center and right next to the band. The big windows, asymmetric place mats, and partially stone interior gave the feel of an artsy, uptown bar while providing a view of the city's center. With a menu offering Italian appetizers, meals, and deserts, a full bar, and a variety of coffees and teas, everyone can find something that tickles their fancy. I chose a mint tea to combat the night's chill. It not only kept me warm and happy, but covered my taste buds with the refreshing flavor. For me, the best part of the ambiance was the band. Live jazz music filled the room with a upbeat and cheery energy. The band consisted of a keyboard, a base guitar, an electric guitar, a saxophone, and a tiny drum set. The group of 20-somethings skillfully worked their respective instruments and played a variety of styles, holding the interest of their audience.

The room itself also contributed nicely to the atmosphere. The bar was built with hard lines and boxes, creating a very sleek look and modern feel. The dining area had softer lines and splashes of brick and natural stone designs, giving a more inviting and comfortable feel. The dining area's deep red and slate grey paint subtly incorporated the bar's modern look into the dining room to create a smooth transition between the two areas. The black and white prints and the colored lanterns worked with everything else to create a very unique cafe/bar.

This little gem of a place was a nice surprise in a city that has more reggaeton bars than anything else. I have yet to find another place here with a similar environment and feel. I give Roma Caffe a thumbs up and a permanent place on my weekly to-do list.

Parque Nacional de Diversiones

Theme park! This past weekend I experienced Costa Rica's one and only Parque de Diversiones. Having grown up 1 hour from the world-famous Disney World, I have quite a bit of theme park experience and consider myself somewhat of an expert on the matter. The Parque de Diversiones was much smaller than the pride of Orlando, but had all the components of a great theme park built for a great time.

Right at the entrance of the park was their only roller coaster. Bright yellow with a couple twists, turns, and corkscrews, the Anaconda gave a welcoming vibe and was our first stop. My first surprise was the fact that there was no line at all! We walked the trail right up to the ride and got on without a wait.

The Anaconda slowly climbed the track, making a very disconcerting clicking noise throughout the whole ascent. We got to the top, I looked at the mountainous scenery and ...weee!! we sped down the track, flipped through a corkscrew and left my stomach behind, a few more turns and the 20-second ride was over. It was really nice not to have to wait 2 hours for a 20 second ride like I used to at Universal Studios.

One of my favorite parts was the bumper cars. Even at my ripe old age of 21 I still enjoy smashing a bumper car full force into strangers. We zipped through the line, hopped into the carts and waited anxiously to be able to start. We got the green light, I stomped on the gas and puttered to a slow and disappointing start. I finally gained enough speed and was off - an unstoppable force bludgeoning my way through the masses. My goal was to hit the people I knew more than they hit me. I can't say that I was successful, I did succeed in thoroughly enjoying myself... and bruising my back from smashing against the seat every time I crashed. The electricity stopped, we jumped out of the carts and ran back to the line like little kids. No wait :). We went another 10 or so rounds in a row - I love Costa Rica.

We had lunch in a traditional restaurant in an old-fashioned town modeled after an 1800s era Costa Rican town. I had a view of the picturesque chapel with the mountains in the background and ate a tamal. Except for the Disney prices, lunch was perfect.

We took an old-fashioned train around the town and ate coffee fruits right off the trees. I  bought a tooth-rotting traditional candy, which was every kids' dream come true. The roosters crowed, the peacock posed, and the goat comped away on a branch wedged in the fence. We walked through a 118-year old home with 3 rooms, an ancient piano, iron, and sewing machine. I noticed the lack of bathrooms and the presence of buckets next to the bed and decided that I prefer modern luxuries to old fashioned simplicity. I really enjoyed getting a feel for ancient Costa Rican life.

Chicharones at Donde Alcides

Rene and his friend decided that they needed some chicharones tonight. For those who don't know, chicharones are pork prepared in the "chicharon" style. It's basically chunks of pork thrown on the grill for a while. They're great for people who are into that kind of thing, but unfortunately for me I'm not such a fan of meat in general.

We hopped into the car and started driving. Apparently today was some kind of tamal festival (another kind of Latin American food) so the roads were packed. What is normally about a 10 minute drive took us around 30. The silver lining here is that the view from the road is amazing. We were driving through a little town and headed toward the mountains. We had old homes around us, plenty of people available for people watching, and the not-so-distant mountains right in front of us. Again, unfortunately for me, I get car sick pretty easily. All the twists and turns of the mountain roads, while a nice sight, created a pretty unpleasant ride for me.

Finally, we arrived at restaurant called Donde Alcides. My angry body soon forgave me as we walked into the BBQ-style restaurant. There were huge wooden tables everywhere. We chose one next to the window. I looked out and saw a wooden home on stilts right next to a ledge on the mountain. One thing I love about Costa Rica is the amount and variety of trees. Having lived the majority of my life in Florida, I'm used to a pretty homogeneous landscape consisting of flat land, palm trees, and the occasional and very celebrated pine tree. A sight like the one I was seeing is still something that gives me pause. I looked upon a mountain scene with trees of every shade of green, each tree next to one of a different species and completely different look. The foggy sky created a surreal effect, making us feel isolated in our little slice of paradise.

Then the food arrived. The waiter placed two plates overflowing with tremendous pieces of meat. Pork and beef filled the table, along with my baked potato and corn on the cob. I tried the pork, which was very flavorful and juicy. I tried the beef as well, which was not such a success. I particularly dislike beef and the beef  here required far too much effort to chew with too little flavor to reward my hard work. The boys, however, loved every bite.  We ate and ate and ate until we could eat no more. After the three of us were finished with a combined total of 2 meals, we were left with enough food to bring home a complete meal for the guard who watches our street.

Donde Alcides turned out to be a great restaurant, even worth the car sickness-induced suffering. I would recommend it to anyone who's in the area and has the ability to go.

Night Lights

Rene is a journalist and his friend Juan Cho is a professional photographer. They work together for a magazine about things to do in Costa Rica. A couple nights ago their subject was a little restaurant nearby. Ideally located, the seats on the balcony provide a wonderful view of the city below. I looked down on the rooftops, the streets and the passersby and thought that it looked just like a scene from a movie. Rene and I arrived on time and chatted with the owner for about an hour while we waited for Juan Cho. He finally made it, began setting up his camera, and we set up the restaurant. Four boxes, twelve tree-shaped candle holders, 36 tea cup candles, and 30 minutes later we were ready for the photo shoot.

I stood behind and watched  as Juan Cho masterfully manipulated the camera to produce the desired effect. Brighter, darker, more or less shadow, different areas of focus, different degrees of focus - all these things he used to shoot the exact same shot with dozens of different results.

Sitting and observing, I was suddenly aware that this was the perfect night for such an activity. The cloudless sky allowed us to see the San Jose city lights stretch on for miles. Beyond the city was the soft silhouette of the mountains in the distance. Generally speaking, San Jose isn't a very pretty city. Tonight, though, it could have been Paris.

Trout Fishing

After our trip to the Japanese garden we decided to take a drive through the mountains and visit some old ruins of ancient churches. As is pretty standard for us, that plan never came to fruition and we ended up trout fishing in a town I would never have known existed otherwise.

We were headed toward the ruins when we saw a dark sky indicating rain. Rain is not something you want to deal with when in an isolated place in a valley visiting ruins. We then saw a sign for trout fishing, changed the plans, and followed the sign. After driving for about a half hour up the mountain on a narrow dirt road, we finally arrived at a little town. This was the stereotype small mountain town. All the little shops were run out of individual homes, there were no bars, everyone was dressed in their Sunday best, and everyone was friendly. We stopped to ask a passerby for directions, he told us to follow the dirt road until it hit the next mountain. We did as directed and found a tiny driveway with a "trout fishing" sign and an arrow. We drove up, parked in the dirt parking lot and walk up the hill to the old man who seemed to be in charge. He warmly welcomed us, showed us to one of the three trout ponds and set us up to fish. He handed us each a piece of wood that was about 3 inches by 1/2 inch with a fishing line wrapped around it. He attached a hook and pierced a fish eyeball for bait. The ponds were man-made breeding grounds for trout and I caught my first one in 30 seconds. The fish skillfully sucked off the next two rounds of bait without hooking themselves, but within a few minutes I caught Trout #2.  I then retired. Soon thereafter, Rene caught his trout and we officially had our lunch.

The old man broke the necks of the trout to prevent further suffering and fished the hooks out of their mouths and throats. It was quite the gruesome scene for someone who's not accustomed to such uncensored dealings with nature. He threw them in a bucket and brought them to the cook. In about 30 minutes we had a meal of the freshest trout, patacones, salad, and coke. The trout arrived in pieces, bones and everything. It turns out you can eat trout bones, so we chowed down. The old man came and sat with us. His name was Don Chavelo and he was a very nice guy. He told us the story of his fish farm and his future plans. He and the cook offered us some coffee, which we gladly accepted. Costa Rican mountains get very cold, so I was thrilled to have some hot liquid to help me survive without proper clothing.

This was how I tried my first "chorreado" coffee. Chorreado coffee is coffee prepared in the traditional Costa Rican manner. Instead of using a coffee maker, they use a wooden device that holds up a white cloth sack. The ground coffee beans go in the cloth, the cup goes under the cloth, and the boiling water is poured over the beans. This method produces a much stronger, but also a much more flavorful coffee. After a small cup of this wonderful goodness (and about 2 table spoons of sugar), I was nice and toasty and extremely energetic. We sipped our coffee and chatted a bit more. I learned that Don Chavelo has problems with the seals trying to steal his fish, and with a stray cat who claims one trout per day. We took some pictures together, said our goodbyes, and headed home after a long and satisfying day of traveling.

Lankester Jardin Botanico

Today we took a trip to a Japanese botanical garden here in Costa Rica. The garden was divided into several different sections, which made for a much more interesting trip.

Thirty seconds after we started walking the path we found a very "chi" pond. There were several bright orange coy swimming about in their pond, surrounded by natural stones and enjoying the waterfall that emptied into their sanctuary. After a quick photo shoot, we continued down the path through a tunnel of vines, waited for a few other visitors to take pictures, took some pictures of our own, exited the tunnel, and entered Japan. We were greeted by a Japanese-style structure reminiscent of lincoln logs, only this one was twice my size, made of stone, and absolutely beautiful. Once past the structure that marked our entrance to Japan, we strolled into a forest of bamboo. I learned two things here: the first, bamboo really is very pretty; the second, bamboo is a mosquito magnet. I have never been surrounded by so many mosquitoes - and I'm from Florida. They were everywhere. I swatted them away with a constant flailing of my arms, but there was no escape. They nestled in my hair, had a picnic on my neck, and swarmed around me like a trailers in a Kansas tornado until I finally fled the scene. I've decided that bamboo gardens are nice on the eyes but maybe not worth the risk.

Our next destination was a rain forest, which had fewer mosquitoes than the mini Japan. We walked over moist dirt paths, saw an incredible display of blossoming flowers, and took a thousand postcard-worthy pictures. I strolled across a wooden bridge and decided that would be a nice place to stop and take a picture. As luck would have it, I stopped about 2 inches before I would have walked through the beginning of a spider web. I knelt down to get a better view of the busy spider carefully weaving her web. Back and forth, back and forth she went. So hurriedly, yet so meticulously she designed the perfect insect trap. We carefully ducked under the web and continued on our journey. Then, as you may have predicted, two careless wanderers followed and completely destroyed our spider's hard earned home. That's life in the tropics, I suppose. 


Next stop - the desert. It's quite difficult to imagine that in just a couple seconds one can go from a mosquito-filled rain forest, full of blooming flowers and butterflies, criss-crossed by wet dirt trails and an abundance of greenery to a barren dessert filled with dry, dusty pebbles and cactus plants. For me, however, it is no longer hard to imagine since I did just that only a few hours ago. After a short walk we arrived at the desert section of our botanical garden. There was a glass box with an array of different cactus species. Smushing my face and hands against the glass for a better view, I saw what looked like a cactus buffet. I had no idea that there were so many kinds of cacti. I crossed the pebble path, enjoyed the sound my shoes made with each step they took over the tiny stones, and continued to experience the desert. All of a sudden, the formerly oblivious me realized that I was suddenly in the middle of a swarm of wasps. How do I get myself into these situations, I wondered. Fortunately, they allowed me to slowly back away from the hive without causing me harm. I promptly left the desert.


Our final stop - Japan. But real Japan, not a bamboo garden. This was by far my favorite part of our excursion. Of course, we took a wrong turn, walked down a path intended to be used by maintenance workers, emerged from the brush and saw a magnificent Japanese home. In awe, I walked to the front, read and respected the sign politely requesting that I remove my shoes, and walked into an old-fashioned Japanese home. Made entirely of wood and bamboo, this home convinced me that my next home should in 1800's Japan. I even considered buying a katana and taking up the study of Ken-Jitsu. The home had only 3 small rooms and no kitchen, so I assume that it was meant only to give the idea of old-fashioned Japan rather than serve as an actual replica. The floor creaked as I stepped on each floorboard and made my way to the back. A perfectly manicured landscape, complete with a pebble floor and a statue, awaited me. I sat on the Japanese-style chair (a cushion placed on the floor) and took in the beauty of the house and the backyard. I looked at the Japanese lettering on the walls and decided that Japanese will be the next language I learn. Eventually we went back the front, put our shoes back on, and left our little corner of ancient Japan. 

Even as our trip wound down we continued to find a never-ending supply of beautiful things to photograph. A perfect flower here, a unique tree there, a never-before-seen bug flying that way. We walked down one more trail, took our final pictures and hopped back into the car. It was a great way to spend a couple hours.

Archives: Friday the 13th

This is an old adventure. I think it's from 2008. I found it while searching through all my old documents.

I woke up this morning, Friday June 13, after a meager 3 ½ hours of sleep. Why only three hours, you ask? It’s a dumb story, but here goes.

Yesterday I got home from my only class around 2:00 and was thrilled to be able to relax for a while. I did a quick homework assignment, made some spaghetti, and ate in the living room where my roommate was watching Indiana Jones (which her friend bought because he couldn’t believe that I had never seen them). As I’m sure you could easily predict, I got suckered in and finished watching the movie with her. Then, she put on some other captivating film about a bunch of drug addicts so there went another two hours.

I had a 1500 –word paper due today so I added my finishing touches, submitted it online, and was quite satisfied to find that I was finished with all my work and could go to bed at the beautiful hour of 10 pm.  Just kidding, I had forgotten do my Bible readings for the next day’s Old Testament class. I texted my friend and asked if it was too late to go to the local coffee shop because I knew it would be a long and painful few hours of Bible reading without the extra kick of caffeine, and my weary body was already exhausted and begging for sleep. She, of course, did not get my text and left me with nothing to aid in my journey through the books of 2 Chronicles and Psalms. Two hours later I was finished with the Bible and considering moving on to the assigned reading from the text book, but I was far too tired and decided to finish it in the morning before class– along with doing my Spanish homework and studying for my 300-word Spanish composition. 12:00 am and I could finally be done with my day and drift off to the land of the surreal. I set my alarm for 9:00 and hit the hay. 12:10, 12:20, 12:30 and I’m still awake. Exhausted yet unable to sleep. 12:40, 12:50, BEEP BEEP BEEP. Text message. “Is it?” says the text I just received. Well, I’m not sleeping anyway so why not? 1 am and I get out of bed, brush my teeth and join my friend at the coffee shop, both of us still in our PJs.  Come 3ish she takes me home and I’m all jacked up on caffeine so I finished my reading. Change the alarm to 9:45, bed by 4, sleep by 4:30, and WHAT THE FUCK?!?! I’m up again at 7:30 in the friggin morning for no reason! Sleep eludes me once again. I toss and turn, unable to fall back into the depths of the unconscious.

Now it’s today, Friday the 13^th. I drag my ass out of bed at 9:45 on a grand total of sleep summing less than 4 hours. I put together some terrible sentences in Spanish and turn them in online. I scan through the pages of the book that I had borrowed, needed to return in a few hours and never looked at. Stumble my way to the bus, Spanish book in hand, and furiously cram as much information into my brain that it had the capacity to retain. I sat in class for an hour and wrote the worst 300-word speech the world has ever been cursed to endure and scurry off to my next class. Two hours later and I’m free to enjoy my weekend. There’s only one catch, that last class was Old Testament and a fellow classmate decided that this was the time to “save” me. I’m waiting for my friend to pick me up so I can’t just leave, instead I’m stuck here listening to her Jesus stories. Then comes the rain. 5 minutes of a Florida downpour is all you need to be thoroughly soaked, as I was in that moment. Why wouldn’t she leave? Seek refuge from the rain like a normal person? Was my eternal soul really that important to her? I guess so because she stayed with me and continued on. Then finally, a BEEP of a text. My friend had come to my rescue and I was out of there.

Of course, we were out of there and on our way to Temple. I had always wanted to go, just to see what it was like, and today was the day. Having never expected to be attending such an event, I had no appropriate clothes for the occasion. A stop at the mall and a raid of her closet left the two of us reasonably well dressed, given the circumstances. Dinner at 6, done by 6:30, off to Temple, there by 6:58. Temple starts at 7. We drive into the parking lot and find all of two other cars there. Turns out Temple starts at 7:30, and the Rabbi’s out of town. Back in the car and on to another. Stop for a Klondike bar, get to Temple number 2 by 7:50 and service started at 8. As luck would have it, the Rabbi was out of town. Lots of Hebrew singing and bowing to walls, out by 9.

We decided to come back to my apartment for a movie night and stop for some cookies and milk on the way. We pull into the shopping center but instead of going to the Publix, we swing by the bar where her friend had invited us to join him for a gay pride concert. Fabulous. A quick scan of the parking lot revealed that he was not there so we skipped it and finally got to Publix. In and out…and the car won’t start. 10 minutes later she’s on the phone with triple A and they’re sending a handy-dandy locksmith to replace her key. Knowing that our food would go bad before we got home, we tapped into the stash right there. So there we were, sitting in a parking lot at 9:30 on the night of Friday the 13^th, eating sushi, raw cookie dough, and warm diet Pepsi. Interesting combination, let me tell you. I’m halfway through my second piece of sushi and asked what it was. “Eel” was her answer. All of a sudden I could no longer breathe. I couldn’t chew, swallow, the mere word “eel” made me instantly gag. A few cough/laughs later and I managed to choke it down, and then have another. It occurred to me that my half gallon of milk would probably be deadly before I got home too, so I thought it best to chug it right then and there. Did I mention that I hate milk? I made it half way through the jug of lukewarm 2% and nearly heaved.

To help pass the time she was kind enough to let me borrow her iPod as she cleaned out her car. A bra, handcuffs, black furry paddle…who has this stuff in their car? “Detachable penis.” What? I realized that the song I was listening to was about a man with a detachable penis who was concerned because he couldn’t find it. Not an uncommon problem for him, but an unusual problem for me to ponder. A man that I didn’t know climbs into the car and sits next me. It took a second for me to realize that he was the long-awaited locksmith. I was about to return his handshake when I was distracted by the sudden wails of man in distress, a man without a penis.

Quite a night.

Day Trip

Today started the same way that most of our days start - without a plan. We had a relaxing morning, then decided to visit a Japanese botanical garden. As we were driving the sky clouded over, everything turned gray, and we decided the gardens were out. We passed by a huge and beautiful church and decided to stop. Apparently it's the church in Costa Rica. There's a tradition here where once a year everyone walks from wherever they are to this church. Some people even make the journey on their knees to the historical church where they are greeted by nurses ready to treat their bloody knees.

We just drove there. The church was built in the same style as the churches in Spain. Practically everything is original, which means over 300 years old. The ceiling is multi-level, which gives it a very exotic look. The original stained glass looks just as immaculate as if it were new. The alter is something fit for a king and people walk to it on their knees to pray. The artwork is mesmerizing both because of its beauty and its meaning. Everything had mysterious symbols whose meanings I would love to know.

After walking through the church and disturbing all the faithful worshipers, we walk around a bit until find a pizza place. Oh, how I love pizza. We went to a place with movie posters all over the walls and The Incredibles playing on two TVs. While we ate two children separately came to our table to try to sell some trinket for money. We gave money to neither, but rather gave some pizza to the first and some soda to the second. We then went and took some pictures of the church. I loved walking around in the courtyard in front the church. It was made of stone brick and makes a great sound when boot heals walk it. And of course, on our way back to the car two or three more people tried to sell us lottery tickets. We bought a ticket from one girl, gave some change to the other, and then she kept demanding our leftover pizza right up until we closed the car doors.

All in all, it was a very nice trip. Remove the very aggressive beggars and it would have been perfect. The overcast sky actually improved the atmosphere in this particular place. The grey sky was a perfect background for the grey and white church. The nippy, windy air made us feel like we were in a different city, even a different country, even though we were only 20 minutes from home. This is what I love about Costa Rica. Just a short drive away you can find almost anything you want. There are beaches, volcanoes, rain or cloud forests, gorgeous historical churches, city life, little markets, all kinds of parks, there's never a dull moment if you don't want one.

The Bird

Today's adventure: a bird in the bedroom (for some reason I didn't post this when I wrote it - which was around October/November 2010).

I was sitting on the bed, laptop in hand, when a huge bug flew past me and hit the window. The house has a part that's always open to the outside so we get the occasional wandering beetle that makes its way upstairs. Then my boyfriend (Rene, for future reference), who was on his computer, told me to save the bird. What bird? Then this genius realized that what I thought was an enormous beetle was really a tiny bird (how exactly I made that mistake I couldn't quite say). He'd flapped his way to our room, then mistaken the window for an opening and crashed into the glass. Two things happened next. The first, I slowly walked over with a towel to try to capture him. The second, the dog not so slowly awoke from his perpetual napping, snapped into dog gear, and leaped towards the window. Now, this dog is a 100-year-old schnauzer named Lucas and it was quite an unexpected sight to see him in hunting mode. I tried to keep him back with my foot while trying to wrap the bird in a towel with my hands. He somehow managed to lodge himself between the mattress and the wall so it was no easy job to try to pry him out without hurting him. I started to worry that Lucas would succeed in removing the bird before I could,  so I gave up, tossed the towel to Rene, and locked Lucas in another room. When I came back, the bird was at the top of the window near the ceiling, Rene was trying to corner him, so the bird wedged himself in a little space between the post and the window. We were sure he was a goner at that point because we could see no way for him to escape. But, with some of Rene's crafty maneuvering, he was able to move the window just a bit, guide the bird out of his dungeon, and wrap him in the towel. We then walked him to the open garden, released him, and watched him take off like a bolt of lightning into the morning sky. It was a nice way to start the day.

Flashback

I will use my very first posting to share a quick summary of a few of my adventures thus far. When I was in college I started deviating a bit from the "normal" path that most people take. During my 3 years in college I didn't drink, do drugs or party, so you already know that I didn't have the typical college experience. For me, college was pretty much a waste of time except for one thing. During college I had my first experiences with serious traveling. I studied abroad twice, took multiple vacations back to those countries, and began to take advantage of the destinations closer to home. Those are the experiences to which I will dedicate this post.

Study Abroad #1: Costa Rica

The summer between my first and second year in college I partook in a 6-week program in San Jose, Costa Rica. I loved the program for two reasons. The first was that we traveled all over the country with the group so I didn't have to worry about making my way through a foreign country alone. We went white-water rafting on the Pacuare river, which was an experience I would recommend to any adventurous person. It was exhilarating excitement. There was a perfect combination of adrenaline, fear, and discomfort due to the freezing water and tight life vest to make anyone forget everything and immerse themselves in the moment. We to an active volcano, called Arenal, where we could see tiny dots of red lava tumbling down the volcano's side at night. We went to a rain forest whose name I unfortunately cannot remember (like I said, worthless memory). Surrounded by noisy and colorful bugs, we introduced ourselves to the forest by singing our names before entering. We then walked the dirt path for hours examining all the wildlife around us. If memory serves (which it likely does not), Costa Rica as .01% of the Earth's landmass but 4% of its biodiversity. That is definitely something to take advantage of if venturing to this little Central American country. We also went to Samara beach, where there is never a lack off things to do. We rented kayaks one day and went horseback riding the next. Now, this is not USA horseback riding. We paid about $10 each, our guide was 8 years old, and after 15 minutes he left us. So there we were, 4 of us just trotting along the beach, trying to avoid sunbathers, with no cares in the world.  Those are the only specific places I remember, but I know I'm missing at least one because I know we went ziplining somewhere as well. This is the second activity that I would recommend to any visitor. You feel like you're flying, you feel like you're sure to die, then you land and can't wait for the next zip. It all happens so fast that you can't get enough of it.
The other thing I loved about the program was that we lived with a host family. I really learned much more about the culture than I ever could have otherwise. We had big family breakfasts every morning and just sat and talked. It was a wonderful way to start the day. My host family introduced me to their friends and we lived like real Costa Ricans. It was a great opportunity to learn about the country from a non-tourist perspective which is always something I seek.

Trips Back to Costa Rica:

While in Costa Rica I met a guy with whom I became very close. Soon it was love and I was back on a plane to see him. I traveled back many times until I graduated. We went all over the country together during these trips. Dominical beach on the south Pacific has been one of our favorite destinations. There's a little hotel there called Tortilla Flats where we always stay. It's super cheap, full of bugs, and has an ocean view from every window. One time from that beach we took a 2-hour boat ride to and island called Isla del Cano. We spent the day snorkeling, eating traditional food, and playing with the dolphins on our return trip. It was one of my favorite trips so far. We went several times to the volcano Irazu. Now this is really a sight to see. You can walk pretty close to the crater, which is filled with a green liquid and gas. There's a little cafe where you can grab a hot chocolate, since it's pretty much always cold there. 

Study Abroad #2: Pamana 

Six months after my summer in Costa Rica I spent a term in Panama City, Panama. Here we lived in school-owned houses, but we still went on all kinds of trips with the program. One of my favorite was a trip to the San Blas islands. I must admit, the trip required to get there is a bit treacherous, but well worth it. We took a plane from the city to the coast, where we took another plane that could turn even the most seasoned flyer into a white-knuckled passenger, then we took a rickety wooden boat to the island where we spent the weekend. This hotel really added to the whole experience. It was made of logs so if you put your face right up against them you could see through the walls. The hotel was built right over the water so we could see and hear the water as we went to sleep. The days on the San Blas islands consisted of more rickety wooden boats, more gorgeous tropical islands, and hours of snorkeling. Another great trip was to some caves. They were full of water and in some places I was wading through water up to my shoulders. Bats flew past us, fishes brushed against us and who knows what else was there. The actual city part of the trip was great too, if you go to the right places. I avoided the bars, but sought out the artesian markets. There's a little place called Casco Viejo, which is a very old little corner with lots of great buildings, cafes, an old church, and some people who sell hand made crafts off a blanket on the grass. The Causeway was also a great place to have some fun. It stretched for over a mile with nothing but sidewalk. Then at the end there were all kinds of restaurants and shops. We found a place to rent a bicycle built for two (literally) and rode up and down the sidewalks. In the evenings it's filled with families and couples riding bikes, skating, walking holding hands, watching the sunset and just enjoying themselves. My four months in Panama were truly incredible.

Detour: Nicaragua

During my time in Panama my boyfriend and I took a week's vacation to Nicaragua. We went to the Corn Islands, which were really a great find. I'd never heard of them before the trip. They're two very small Caribbean islands. We stayed on Big Corn island for about $20 a night. The beach was nearly empty and was exactly the sight see on one of those "Wish You Were Here" postcards. We rented a golf cart and spent a day driving around the island. At night, we dined on fantastic $12 lobsters. The next day we took a boat ride to Little Corn island. It was too rough for snorkeling, so we walked around the island in search  of a nice beach for swimming. We walked and walked, did a little trespassing, and finally settled for a private beach. Hunger drove us back to the little town. Of course, being naive travelers we didn't bring any food, or even much money. We had $2 between the two of us, so we bought a bottle of water and a loaf of bread. Now, I don't have the words to describe the glory of that bread. It turned out to be delicious coconut bread (which turns out is a natural laxative). To our starving and parched bodies there wasn't a more perfect meal on Earth, and I discovered coconut bread. After the islands we went back to the main land and spent a day in Granada. We saw the house of William Walker, which is now a cheesy souvenir shop, and took a tour of an old building that seemed to have once been a castle. Or maybe it was just the house of some rich people. During dinner an old man approached us and sold us a hand made hammock for only $10. 

New Orleans:

Once I returned from my international travels, I decide to take more advantage of my local surrounding. I went for a long weekend with my family to New Orleans, which was my first trip to that city. I absolutely loved what I saw of the culture  there. There's nothing like walking through town and hearing live jazz music on every corner. Occasionally we stopped to watch the dancers. New Orleans is another place with a wealth of art. We saw all kinds of art available, from paintings, to carvings, to a little sketch on a 200-year-old roof tile. We took a ferry and listened to the history of the city and ate in some of the best restaurants in the country. New Orleans turned out to be a great place for a long weekend trip.

Atlanta:

A friend of mine had recently moved to Atlanta and since I'd never been there I thought it was a great opportunity to see a new place. I spent the first few hours mastering their public transportation system, then I met a friend at the CNN headquarters. Later, the friend I was visiting picked me up and we went home for the night. The next day we went to the famous Atlanta Aquarium, which was no disappointment. There was every kind of sea life I could imagine, as well as many types I would never have imagined were real. When we left, there were tanks and helicopters in an open field. It turned out to be some kind of military appreciation day so I got to check out some high-tech military gear up close and personal. Later on, we went to an Indian Pow Wow, saw some great dances from people of all ages, bought a few Native American relics, and thus concluded my weekend in Atlanta.

Saint Augustine:

Another trip to see a friend brought me to Saint Augustine, Florida. I learned that St. Augustine is the oldest consistently-inhabited city in North America. We drove past the fort, but didn't do the tourist bit, walked around downtown, took pictures with the live hand-painted hermit crabs, and spent some time at the beach. It was a short trip, but I fit in everything I wanted.

Graduation Gift to Myself: Costa Rica

After I graduated, I went home for a month, then packed up for Costa Rica. I applied to graduate schools but gave myself six months to enjoy my favorite little country with my boyfriend. That is from where I am currently writing this blog. Since I've been here I've gone to both Caribbean and Pacific beaches, to the Irazu, Poas, and Arenal volcanoes, I've gone to natural hot springs, and I've been ziplining. I'm living it up in fine style and with a budget of $500 per month. I took a job teaching high school English and my boyfriend and I spend our weekends either hanging out near home or traveling around our little country. Next post: our beach trip next weekend. See you then.