Volunteering at Cloudbridge, Costa Rica, Part 1

Crossing the border from Honduras into Costa Rica was sketchy, to say the least!  Getting off the bus, there was no indication of where to go, so we just kept walking, past the buses waiting to exit the country, past various men standing or sitting in those marquee-type things you buy at the supermarket if you're having a barbecue in the British summer and know that you can't count on barbecue weather.... These men looked more as if they were going to a barbie, rather than inspecting official documents, dressed as they were in t-shirts, and sporting sunglasses.  Finally, we reached an official-looking building and joined the queue.  Reaching the counter we were asked in rapid Spanish to pay an exit fee at one of the machines....turns out it was the exit from Costa Rica, not the entry..... aaargh.... Eventually we found the right queue, in a different building, and were warned by some friendly gringos that, in order to enter the country, we needed a ticket out of the country, to prove that we would actually be leaving.  The road outside was lined with tiny booths representing myriad travel companies.  We bought the cheapest tickets we could find... back to Managua.... nooooo, we will certainly NOT be using those!  It's a crazy system... the authorities are aware that almost everyone buys a ticket they will never use...and the travel companies rake it in.  Pura vida, as they say in Costa Rica!

So, we boarded yet another bus, to San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica, and rolled along the Pan-American highway.  'This is Costa Rica?!' we thought.... 'land of the tree frog, sloth, amazing birdlife, rain- and cloudforest?' Surely shome mishtake!  But it was a motorway, we told ourselves, and what motorway is attractive, even in paradise?

Arriving in a dark, Friday evening traffic-choked San Jose, noticing that all the houses and businesses had bars at the windows and razor wire above the gates and balconies, we left the seedy bus station and took a taxi to our hostel, where we spent the night and embarked early next morning on the long bus journey to Cloudbridge Nature Reserve, our home and workplace for the next 2 months.

    

...Another arrival in the dark, we joined several other gringos at a fundraising dinner in a cafe in the tiny town of San Gerardo, the nearest to Cloudbridge, including the other volunteers and manager and director of the Reserve.  Everyone made us so welcome. Bellies full, standing in the back of the Cloudbridge truck (with which we would become extremely well acquainted!) we headed up the bone-rattling track to Cloudbridge.  To our delight, we were shown to a little Hansel and Gretel-like casita, downstairs one room with kitchen and dining table, plus a shower-room, and a upstairs a bedroom with a big window at the top of a precarious step ladder-like staircase.  Then, after a hasty piling on of the motley collection of bedding - our favourite was the Spider-Man pillowcase - Zzzzz...

    

View from bed in our casita at dawn

Next morning we awoke to the fantastic view of the jungle and sound of the river rushing way below us.  THIS is the Costa Rica we were hoping for.... in spades!

        

Our jungle casita

Next day, Sunday, we hiked down the hill with Tom, the Director, and his wife, Linda, an arborist and amazing artist, to San Gerardo, where we enjoyed a hearty breakfast of huevos rancheros (ranch-style eggs) with the other volunteers, while marvelling at the hummingbirds taking their fill from the flowers around the cafe,  before doing our weekly shop in the little pulperia (grocery store) in the town.  What a location.....sure beats Sainsbury's!

Back to Cloudbridge and our orientation by Frank, the young British manager, who, it turns out, went to school with the brother of a friend of Anna's!  Small world indeedy.  

Working hours are 7am to roughly 12.30pm weekdays and can involve anything from planting up saplings, planting and maintaining the young trees in the reserve (as Tom says 'everywhere you go in Cloudbridge is either up or down'so this can be quite strenuous); updating first aid kits, compiling an inventory of bedding in the laundry etc etc.  All of us volunteers assemble at 7am each day to receive our  work detail from Tom.  Our arrival, on 1st November, coincided with the start of construction of a new dormitory, which will accommodate 12 school students or volunteers.  The first school group, from Kentucky, is due at the beginning of January 2016!  The heat is on!

Cloudbridge (www.cloudbridge.org) is a private nature reserve.  Cloudbridge stands for: education, reforestation and  preservation.  It's cloudforest, at a higher altitude than rainforest, and obtains much of its moisture from clouds, rather than rain deluges.  The trees are covered with moss, bromeliads and epiphytes; our favourite is 'old man's beard', a beautiful moisture trap, hanging elegantly from the trees:

                                   

                                   

Old man's beard, across the river from the casita, elegantly trapping moisture

Unlike other nature reserves in Costa Rica, such as Monteverde and Manuel Antonio, there is no official charge to enter Cloudbridge; it relies solely on donations.    The wildlife here is amazing; every day we spot something different: a luminous blue or bullion-gold bug, a feisty male violet sabrewing hummingbird, daring others with a flutter of his wings to feast on his nectar, a false coral snake, a hummingbird moth, and a huge array of fantastic moths and butterflies.  A '2 for 1' butterfly, black with an iridescent  blue pattern when its wings are open and white with a black and red pattern, the numbers 88 embellished on each wing (we kid you not) when the wings are closed, is considered lucky if it lands on you.  Imagine my delight when I discovered that its common name is 'Anna's 88'!  

    

Quick!  Buy a lottery ticket!

    

Anna's 88, different colours and patterns on top and undersides of its wings

While we cut timbers to size with the table-saw, making one helluva racket, a pair of squirrel cuckoos carry out their courtship ritual in a nearby hibiscus bush, paying no mind to our cursing about the recently cut, still-wet and wonky wood, or glue which resolutely refuses to stick.  A sudden screech alerts us to the presence of spider monkeys across the valley and a swaying branch to a juvenile cappucin monkey searching for sweet oranges in a nearby tree.  Sweet oranges are rare around here, most of the oranges are bitter, but the little cappucin knows exactly where the sweet ones grow.  And now so do we!  Gracias, amigo!

       

Canny cappucin savouring a rare sweet orange

                                  

Hummingbird in the tree just outside our casita

This gorgeous tarantula emerged from under a pile of cardboard 

Beautiful caterpillar on our terrace one day

A rare selfie, using self-timer.. Alan nearly plummeted into the river in the attempt!

 Finger lickin' good

                                     

Mornings are sunny, then the cloud moves across in the afternoon

                                    

Harmless, huge millipede, common around Cloudbridge.  Amazingly, they smell of almonds!

Violet sabrewing, big by hummingbird standards... And feisty!

Critter on our window

       

Rainbow in the afternoon 

This season's must-have fashion accessory 

Silk moth....  Huge!

Glass frog.. The red bit is its heart!  (No animals were harmed etc etc... )

Beautiful Reserva Cloudbridge 

Next post: Anna's birthday weekend trip and more Cloudbridge capers

Nicaragua, briefly

Four countries in one day - the journey from Antigua, Guatemala, to Managua, Nicaragua

With just a few days to go before starting our volunteer jobs in Costa Rica, we needed to move pretty quickly. So, we booked a bus to Nicaragua, via El Salvador and Honduras.  19 hours in total.  Photos of slick Pullman buses with reclining seats helped to convince us that this was a good idea.  Hmm.

So....we reluctantly emerged at 4am from our comfortable bed in our splurge hotel in Antigua, startling the poor sleeping night receptionist on our way out.  The minivan arrived, crammed with young, bleary-eyed tourists, three of whom were on their way to the airport in Guatemala City for very soon flights, frantic that they wouldn't make it on time.  They did, with just half an hour to spare....

At Guatemala City we changed buses, to a King Quality coach, with reclining seats and a uniformed hostess who gave out pillows and blankets and, later, coffee and ham and cheese tortillas - no meatless alternative.  The few passengers on the coach  included 2 young women from Edinburgh, five weeks into a year long trip, travelling at a very rapid pace.  All facilities on board, there were no stops until we changed again to the advertised very smart Pullman bus near the El Salvador border.  

                                     

The border was relaxed and friendly - immigration officials came on board and smilingly checked our passports and documents, wishing us a good journey.  However, leaving El Salvador, a middle-aged Guatemalan man was escorted from the bus and searched.... we had joked between us that he would be chosen as he was wearing a shirt patterned with big green skulls.... and he was!  On rejoining the bus he commented ruefully: 'Es por la camisa" (It's because of the shirt'!)  Bet his wife told him not to wear it!  Every border we crossed we hoped that the bag of herbs and spices we dragged with us everywhere would not be mistaken for something more exotic!  So far, so good.....

All the food offered on board was meaty, except a toothrottingly sweet doughnut, so we were pretty hungry when we arrived at 1.30am, 21 and a half hours after leaving Antigua and two and a half hours late, in Managua, having piled off the bus at the Nicaraguan border and queued for an age to have our bags cursorily searched and passports checked.  Somehow, we had parted with $18, too, collected by the bus steward for exit fee from Honduras into Nicaragua... the Lonely Planet says that it's $3.  We were not about to argue, in the dark, late at night, with officials with guns. Buenas noches, officer!

There are 2 good hotels near the bus station, said the travel agent in Antigua...no need to book.  Why we believed them we don't know, but we did, and arrived in Managua in the wee small hours without a place to stay.  The hotels looked dubious to say the least and the bus station was scary, swarming with drunk touts and sundry other unsavoury characters trying to lure us to hotels where they'd get commission,  A Frenchman from our bus shouted to us not to take a taxi: 'they're all out to rob us!', or they'd pick up robbers on the way. We had read such stories on the net.  He had booked a taxi from a reputedly trustworthy company before leaving El Salvador, so we joined him and ended up, at 2.15am, at Managua Backpackers Hostel.   Luckily they had a vacancy for a private room, with adjoining bathroom shared with another room (known in the UK as Jack and Jill bathrooms).  We had to lock the adjoining room's door to the bathroom when entering and unlock it when we left.  It's an interesting psychological phenomenon that the instant we heard the bolt slide across on our side we needed to pee!  Our room was cramped and basic, but very welcome.  At breakfast there were loads of cooler-than-thou travellers, and a primped Russian woman of a certain age, bellowing in a broad accent at the poor bewildered Spanish-speaking kitchen staff her request for a healthy alternative to the fried eggs: 'BOIL, BOIL!', as she sucked on her cigarette!  We couldn't wait to leave.  Managua was less scary by day, but not beautiful, and a friendly local directed us to the bus stop for Granada.  

The first thing to hit us about Nicaragua was the HEAT!  After cool Antigua and the temperate climate of Lake Atitlan it was a big shock, even though we'd read the climate and rainfall chart before we left Guatemala.  Averaging at 33-36 degrees C, and very humid.

3 days in Granada

Arriving in Granada, we walked into the very friendly and stylish Il Padrino and booked a reasonably priced room.  it's close to San Francisco church, not far from the centre.  The rooms are set around a garden and there was a communal kitchen for us to cook in.  

     

Our room at Il Padrino, Granada, Alan camouflaged

Granada is a colonial town, but it's very different from those in Guatemala.  Much hotter, for a start, and far fewer indigenous people.  It has a much more Caribbean feel and is more bustly and upfront.  We were warned by various people, including locals, to be careful here, as tourists are sometimes targets for thieves who kidnap them and, driving. from ATM to ATM, force them to withdraw money at each one.  We took the same precautions we would anywhere and did not feel threatened or unsafe.

                           

San Francisco Convento, near our little hotel

                                   

      

Horses are commonly used for work in Nicaragua

We discovered that the bar above, Bocadillos, had a happy hour between 4pm and 6pm, so often rounded off our afternoon with a macua, the national cocktail of Nicaragua: flor de cana rum, guava, orange and lime juice - que rico!  (Alan also enjoyed the mocktail, without the rum)

     

Bustling market in Granada

 

The place for all your coiffure and spa needs

                             

Or here, if you prefer to go green

Another difference is the language.  Officially, the language is Spanish, but it is superfast and indistinct, so very difficult for us to understand and for the Nicaraguans to understand us!  We had to repeat several times our explanation that Mexican and Guatemalan Spanish is very different....so sorry, but please repeat .....and slowly,  please.  

The currency is the cordoba and there are about 42 to the pound.  It's generally more expensive here than in Guatemala (apart from Antigua).  Plus, a 15% tax is added to all restaurant bills, which whacks it up hugely.  

On our first night in Granada, Gaby, the joint owner at Il Padrino, suggested that we watch a parade for the Nicaraguan equivalent of Halloween.  It was due to start at 6pm, she said, but more likely to start at 7.30pm or 8, as, although she hates the phrase 'Nica time', it's a fact that most events start much later than billed.  Finally, at 7.50pm, the sound of crazy music and drumming heralded the arrival of revellers dressed as witches, devils and skeletons, also oxen with skeleton costumes pulling a cart of bones, people with ghoulish painted faces running amok (one 'attacked' Anna to the delight of the crowd), and general ghostly merriment.

     

Ghost cow 

     

     

More spooky revellers

The procession ended in the main square, where it became strangely tame, with wholesome looking young men and women dressed in brightly coloured cowboy outfits and hats, dancing sedately on a platform to polite music, our cue to go back to the hotel to eat!

                                      

Entrance to the old market, once grand and now fallen into disrepair

                                      

      

The magnificent cathedral

     

Selling sunglasses and sombreros in the scorching heat of the day

      

One of 2 very funny and very naughty ginger kittens at the hotel

  

The other kitten, exhausted after all that mischief making

  

And the 2 equally naughty and friendly dalmatians, Milan and Cesar, in a rare still moment 

     

Top topiary!

                                

Alan, very contented, quaffing homemade limonada and anticipating pecan waffles at Kathy's Waffles, a local institution

                                      

Funerary urns at the brilliant Mi Museo ceramics museum...human remains were put into these womb-shaped pots, ready to be reborn

The decoration on these urns depiciting scars suggests that they carried out caesarian sections as long ago as 500-800AD.  

       

A modern piece - the Granada area is known for its ceramics

       

And a much older piece

      

No, gracias, we really don't want a tour of the city... didn't we meet in Antigua?!

Day trip to Lake Apoyo - hello I love you and getting into hot water... 

As ever, we were longing to swim and thinking that we may not be able to for a couple of months while at Cloudbridge.  So we took the sweaty chicken bus to Lake Apoyo, an hour from Granada.  Dropped on the main road near the turnoff to the Lake, we started the 3.5km walk the rest of the way.  Anna's flip flop broke and the tarmac was like molten lava.  Limping along, we were passed by a group of friendly and exuberant transsexuals/transvestites, who declared, in English, their love for us and then drank our day's water supply!  Arriving surprisingly intact, we chose the least touristy restaurant with Lake access and swam for ages in the incredibly warm water.  It's so balmy because it's volcanic and warmed by fumaroles.  Anna has never been so quick to get into the water!  We had great fun paddling around in kayaks and swimming until it was time for the last bus back to Granada.

      

Buying a gaseosa (fizzy drink) at the bus station 'Mira, una chica toma su foto' (Look, a girl's taking your photo!') the vendor warned Alan

                                      

On the bus... this orange drink has never seen fruit in its life!  

    

Sunday afternoon at Lake Apoyo

Surf's Up - feeding the mosquitos at Playa Gigante

Electing for the smaller beach town of Playa Gigante, rather than party town San Juan del Sur, we took the long, hot bus trip from Granada, changing at Rivas, a bustling market town.  Dropped at a bus stop in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, we joined 2 local women and some children, also waiting for the next bus to Playa Gigante, due in an hour and a half.  Blazing hot sun, tired from our journey and early start, we pondered taking a taxi, and spotted one across the road.  The older of the women, small, quick and muscular, spotted us eyeing the taxi and cautioned 'no taxi, son todos ladrones!'(no taxi, they're all thieves').  The young taxi driver had also noted our interest and approached us. The woman quickly turned her back to him, facing us, making frantic gestures 'no taxi, hay un autobus' (no taxi, there's a bus').  The taxidriver looked bemused and said 'diez' ($10).  The woman, her back still to the taxi driver, gestured with her fingers for us to halve whatever he says, repeating that they're all 'ladrones' (robbers).  We took her advice - it's too carro (expensive), the assembled party nodding in approval, the taxi driver aghast.  'Ok, ocho' ($8), he offered.  The woman shook her head vehemently.  'Ok, cinco' ($5), sighed the poor defeated taxi driver .  'Por todo' (for all of us) we said, to the delight of the women and children and the amused bafflement of the driver, who repeated in disbelief 'Por todo?'.... 'Si'.  Scratching his head and breaking into a wan smile of resignation 'Ok, $6 por todo' and before he had finished his sentence, the younger of the women had opened the front passenger door and got in with a little boy, and the driver's nemesis climbed, victorious, into the back with the other.  The taxi driver shook his head, glancing at us as we squeezed into the back seat.  We discovered on the journey that both the women (mother- and daughter in law) were called Anna, the driver Abraham,  one boy Angel, us, Anna and Alan, and ...... Menor, the other boy - nearly a complete A team!  We chatted the whole way to Playa Gigante, where the family got out and thanked us profusely, the driver took us right to our door, still bearing a quizzical smile, and bade us a good trip.  Hilarious.

Our Airbnb 'casita in the trees' was rustic, consisting of 2 rooms - a bedroom with adjoining bathroom and a kitchen - both rooms were independent and you had to go into each via a lockable door from the terrace, which was adorned with a gorgeous green vinyl sofa, ideal for the HOT, steamy climate.  The casita was situated on a little unmade road leading from the village.  Pigs, horses and chickens wandered past, though disappointingly not the howler monkeys which apparently live nearby.  The chickens became quite friendly during our four nights there and by the end were tame, hopping up onto the veranda in the hope of scraps.  

 

Chickens on the veranda of our casita in the trees

  

Our favourite, Mildred

 

Mum and very cute chicks

   

Huge, fascinating fungus on a tree near the casita

Still low season, Playa Gigante was very quiet, with very few tourists.  The majority of those there were surfers, waiting for some good waves.  We, however, ventured into the sea in the afternoon, when the waves were less crazy and had some great fun being toppled by the surf.  Alan hired a boogie board (and couldn't believe his ears when the guy renting them actually started singing 'Boogie Wonderland' as he took his money!).  An hour later, battered and bruised, he decided that the surf in picturesque, almost deserted Playa Amarilla, which had seemed less wild than neighbouring (and disappointingly litter-strewn) Playa Gigante, was not for beginners either. He later realised that he'd cracked a rib! 

      

  

Beautiful Playa Amarilla

  

Boogie wonderland!

      

      

      

Wow - gorgeous sunset every evening

Our few days here, due to the sweltering, humid heat, were spent reading on the veranda and watching the various creatures, thn walking around the village and swimming in the late afternoons.  The mosquitos were vicious and we resorted to Deet Jungle Strength repellent, which they sneered at:

                                     ___

Anna's mozzie-bite covered back - Alan stopped counting at 37!  Pica pica..... don't scratch!

This was not the only misfortune to befall me (Anna).  Buying snacks in one of the two stores in the village to take to the beach, Alan decided that he fancied a mixed bag of crisps.  Munching away under the shade of some prickly trees, he declared 'Mmm, these are tasty - they taste a bit like Frazzles'.  I grabbed the packet and was alarmed to read that they were chicharrones - pork rinds! Vegetarian for over 30 years, I was not thrilled to learn that I'd eaten Pigs in Packets!  A fact that Alan will not be allowed to forget for some time.... Mildred and gang ate the remainder with great gusto, but we didn't have the heart to feed them to the porkers. 

                                       

So sorry, girls!

     

Handpainted sign on the way to the village - we feel so much safer now!

     

Big bird above the bus stop as we waited for the chicken bus back to Rivas on our last morning (turkey buzzard?)

So, that was our whistlestop trip through Nicaragua.  We were a bit sad not to see Ometepe, which we've heard is fantastic, but, unlike our last big trip we don't have a round-the-world ticket, so we can head in whichever direction we choose after Costa Rica, a fact which we are absolutely loving and still need to pinch ourselves every now and again to believe it's actually happening.  

Next post: volunteering at Cloudbridge Reserve, Costa Rica