Costa Rica (continued)

Mid-week we decided to make an overnight trip north to the vicinity of Arenal, famous for its active volcano. Guidebooks spoke of lava flows visible at night, and of molten rocks bounding down the slopes. It sounded exciting.

En route we stopped at a town called Zarcero, noted for the topiary in a park in front of its church.

The most elaborate was a monkey on a motorbike.

Even where the hedges had not been clipped into shapes, designs had been cut into the foliage.

The topiary was certainly more skilled than the sculpture of a local dignitary at the park entrance.

For me this little park turned out to be one of the highlights of our holiday.

The volcano at Arenal, however, turned out to be dormant - no molten rocks or lava trails for us.
  We were not impressed with the noisy, dusty town of La Fortuna, at the base of the volcano, and chose to move on to the hamlet of El Castillo across the adjoining lake. After bumping down an impossibly rutted and potholed road, we found suitable lodging for the night.

The little cabins were definitely no-frills, but clean and quiet, which is all we require.

True to the advertisement, they had a great view of the volcano, although the cone was shrouded in clouds almost all the time.

Despite that, it certainly dominated the landscape. You found yourself ever watchful for one of the brief moments when the clouds parted and you could catch a glimpse of the very top. Michael sat outside and sketched,

while I sprawled on the bed, reading our guidebook, camera ready at my hand. The clouds swirled constantly so getting a clear shot was a challenge. This is the best I could manage.

Later, we took a walk up the steep hill on which our cabins were perched, and found a sign pointing to one of the last remaining kapok trees in the region. I remember having a pillow filled with kapok when I was a child, but I guess that market has been taken over by synthetics. The Costa Ricans moved on to bananas and coffee, and are now switching to African palms for palm oil.

Apart from one other couple, our accommodations were deserted, but that didn't stop the restaurant from serving up a delicious meal. They also had the best - and most powerful - margaritas that we sampled on the entire trip. We sat and sipped before dinner, watching hummingbirds among the flowering shrubs outside. I tried to catch one on film, a fairly futile endeavour. If you look very closely, just to the right of the bottommost yellow flower, you can see a scrap of iridescent green plumage.

Costa Rica Respite

We had an opportunity in February to escape the winter doldrums and fly to Costa Rica. Our friends, Howard and Anne, kindly gave us the keys to their cottage in the coffee-growing highlands west of the capital, San José. Here's their lovely little abode.

As well as agaves and palms, the garden had flowering ginger,

and this tree with shiny leaves that looked like a jacaranda but wasn't.

An arch in a hedge led us to the neighbour's citrus orchard where we were welcome to help ourselves to fresh fruit.

At the bottom of the garden, a covered area with barbecue, reclining chairs and a jacuzzi overlooked the valley.

It was a welcome retreat at the end of a hot day of sight-seeing.

Howard spent the first three days with us before flying back to Vancouver. On Sunday the three of us visited Palmares, a nearby mountain town that was having its annual fiesta. We were there too early in the day for there to be much activity, but I did enjoy these children cavorting in large plastic bubbles.

We also visited the town square, where even the local bikers were enjoying a Sunday afternoon stroll.

A  friendly woman drew my attention to a sizeable iguana enjoying a feast of lettuce leaves.

While I was watching it, a squirrel monkey appeared from nowhere to snatch some lettuce, provoking a little confrontation.

On the way home we passed this combination of bougainvillea and the white flowers of a brugmansia growing almost wild by the roadside.

As we wound our way down the final hillside, we came to more bougainvilleas, this time tamed into a flowering hedge.

The following day we set off for the capital of San José where we had arranged to have a tour of historic buildings. Unfortunately, as we entered the crowded city, Howard's rental car was rear-ended by a local who had misjudged the amount of space between us and the bus behind us. We weren't hurt, but the car was, and sorting out the situation with the rental company took up the rest of our morning.



Instead, with a replacement car, we took an afternoon drive down to Jaco, a resort town on the Pacific Coast. On the way we marvelled at the steepness of the landscape and the way it had nevertheless been adapted for cattle and coffee growing. The tiny white blobs on the hillside below are Santa Gertrudis beef cattle. (Beef is a staple on every  menu, along with chicken and tilapia fish which are raised in landlocked ponds.)

We saw several groves of flame trees clustered in the valley depths or climbing the slopes.

Where the land dropped steeply from the roadside impromptu fences had been erected by the simple expedient of planting fast-growing trees, stringing wire between them, and then severing the trunks at a suitable height.

Jaco itself was a bit disappointing. Humid, overcast weather made the grey sand beach even greyer.

And, on this Monday afternoon, the surrounding shops and cafes seemed forlorn although we understand that at weekends the town is jumping with joséfinos (the inhabitants of San José, the capital city).

The most interesting part of the trip was crossing the bridge over the Rio Tarcolès, where crocodiles bask on the mud flats below, oblivious to all the tourists leaning over the railings and clicking cameras.

We counted about 25 of the critters in varying sizes, loafing on the sand or cruising through the shallow waters.

Costa Rica Respite

We had an opportunity in February to escape the winter doldrums and fly to Costa Rica. Our friends, Howard and Anne, kindly gave us the keys to their cottage in the coffee-growing highlands west of the capital, San José. Here's their lovely little abode.

As well as agaves and palms, the garden had flowering ginger,

and this tree with shiny leaves that looked like a jacaranda but wasn't.

An arch in a hedge led us to the neighbour's citrus orchard where we were welcome to help ourselves to fresh fruit.

At the bottom of the garden, a covered area with barbecue, reclining chairs and a jacuzzi overlooked the valley.

It was a welcome retreat at the end of a hot day of sight-seeing.

Howard spent the first three days with us before flying back to Vancouver. On Sunday the three of us visited Palmares, a nearby mountain town that was having its annual fiesta. We were there too early in the day for there to be much activity, but I did enjoy these children cavorting in large plastic bubbles.

We also visited the town square, where even the local bikers were enjoying a Sunday afternoon stroll.

A  friendly woman drew my attention to a sizeable iguana enjoying a feast of lettuce leaves.

While I was watching it, a squirrel monkey appeared from nowhere to snatch some lettuce, provoking a little confrontation.

On the way home we passed this combination of bougainvillea and the white flowers of a brugmansia growing almost wild by the roadside.

As we wound our way down the final hillside, we came to more bougainvilleas, this time tamed into a flowering hedge.

The following day we set off for the capital of San José where we had arranged to have a tour of historic buildings. Unfortunately, as we entered the crowded city, Howard's rental car was rear-ended by a local who had misjudged the amount of space between us and the bus behind us. We weren't hurt, but the car was, and sorting out the situation with the rental company took up the rest of our morning.

Instead, with a replacement car, we took an afternoon drive down to Jaco, a resort town on the Pacific Coast. On the way we marvelled at the steepness of the landscape and the way it had nevertheless been adapted for cattle and coffee growing. The tiny white blobs on the hillside below are Santa Gertrudis beef cattle. (Beef is a staple on every  menu, along with chicken and tilapia fish which are raised in landlocked ponds.)

We saw several groves of flame trees clustered in the valley depths or climbing the slopes.

Where the land dropped steeply from the roadside impromptu fences had been erected by the simple expedient of planting fast-growing trees, stringing wire between them, and then severing the trunks at a suitable height.

Jaco itself was a bit disappointing. Humid, overcast weather made the grey sand beach even greyer.

And, on this Monday afternoon, the surrounding shops and cafes seemed forlorn although we understand that at weekends the town is jumping with joséfinos (the inhabitants of San José, the capital city).

The most interesting part of the trip was crossing the bridge over the Rio Tarcolès, where crocodiles bask on the mud flats below, oblivious to all the tourists leaning over the railings and clicking cameras.

We counted about 25 of the critters in varying sizes, loafing on the sand or cruising through the shallow waters.

Frosty New Year

2011 came in cold and frosty here. January is perhaps the month I like least. Festivities are over and the climb of the sun back north seems not to have begun. We wake in darkness and it's dark again by 4:30. Sometimes the sky hardly seems to lighten all day.When the high temperature for the day is hovering around 0ºC, there's no hope of working outside; inside, we need the lights on.



Still, when the skies are clear, it always means an overnight frost, and that does lovely things to familiar objects. Our metal rooster, forlorn in the backyard, gets a fine white outline.

Later, the rising sun turns frost on the roof directly into steam, which drifts past my window as I work.

Frosty New Year

2011 came in cold and frosty here. January is perhaps the month I like least. Festivities are over and the climb of the sun back north seems not to have begun. We wake in darkness and it's dark again by 4:30. Sometimes the sky hardly seems to lighten all day.When the high temperature for the day is hovering around 0ºC, there's no hope of working outside; inside, we need the lights on.

Still, when the skies are clear, it always means an overnight frost, and that does lovely things to familiar objects. Our metal rooster, forlorn in the backyard, gets a fine white outline.

Later, the rising sun turns frost on the roof directly into steam, which drifts past my window as I work.

More snow

After a brief respite from precipitation, but not the cold, we woke on Thursday morning to the sound of neighbours shovelling sidewalks again. This time I joined in.

Tuesday's snow had not melted, and this new lot was adding an extra layer to areas that had not been cleared. At least the temperature was milder - almost balmy, in fact, at just below zero. The snow continued falling throughout the morning,

making our street prettier than usual at this time of year.

It was not a day to drive anywhere if you didn't have to, so the little car remained parked behind the house - under cover, so to speak.

Rain is predicted for tomorrow.