Rudderless in Panama

Adios, Cahuita - leaving the bus station at 8am, heading for Sixaola, to change buses

     

Adios, Costa Rica!  The very low-key exit sign on the border with Panama

      

The equally low key little general store/pharmacy where you buy your departure tax

      

The bridge between Costa Rica and Panama

                                   

Anna leaving Costa Rica, entering Panama

                                    

We're here!  'Welcome to Panama' reads the hand-painted sign

We'd read and heard from other travellers that, as with entry to Costa Rica, you need an onward ticket out of the country.  We toyed with printing out a fake ticket, but decided to cross our fingers.  The very bored guy at immigration didn't want to see our yellow fever certificate, just grunted and took a security photo (we nearly had hysterics as Alan had to bend his knees to be in line with the lens and the guy didn't tell him when it was done, which, added to the dread that we would be asked to produce evidence of an onward journey, engendered an overwhelming desire to laugh).  But we got through with no problem, phew!

Bocas del Toro

All the travellers leaving Costa Rica were heading to Bocas del Toro, an archipelago in the northwest Caribbean coast of Panama, and, despite our previous experience, we squeezed into a shuttle bus with mainly surfer dudes, as this time it really was the easiest and quickest option.  From there onto the ferry (similar to the lanchas on Lake Atitlan in Guatemala) to the main island, where we had booked a room for 5 nights in 'Panama's Paradise' hostel, though our friends had since emailed us, advising us, nay commanding us, to cancel our reservation and stay on the smaller island of Bastimentos, in the tent lodge where they met and fell in love while volunteering.  So, when, on arrival at Panama's Paradise, in the very gritty area of Saigoncito, they realised that they'd double booked our room, we tried to leave straight away - there was still time to book the tent lodge.  But, the manager was lovely, gave us free beer and sodas and manouevred her bookings so that we could stay in our reserved 'deluxe suite with private bathroom and kitchen'!  We negotiated 2 instead of 5 nights, happy to move on, as it certainly was not deluxe and the view of the neighbour's yard, stacked with empty bottles, old washing machines and sundry other rubbish was not picturesque and definitely not paradise!

       

Our 'deluxe suite' - it looks great, with its shabby chic painted furniture and colourful bedding, but alas, the kitchen, and bathroom in particular were far more shabby than chic, with a 'suicide shower', very common in central and South America and thus named as they have electric wires emerging from  the shower-head and can pack a nasty shock, as water and electricity do not mix!  (OK, hydro-electricity is pretty cool, but we're talking about a potentially lethal Heath Robinson shower here.)  This was a real shame, as the staff were lovely and could not have been more helpful and we had free bikes with the cost of the room.  The bikes had just been replaced, so were brand new, so next day off we cycled to Paki Point, a headland with a nice little beach and a surf cafe.  It rained on and off all day, but we managed to dodge the deluges.  The bikes had no brakes, we just needed to pedal backwards to stop them, which caused much hilarity as we nearly went over the handlebars or fell off the saddle a few times.

                                   

                                   

Colourful painted walls in the cafe

      

View from the surf spot cafe - the yellow pickup is a taxi

      

View from the road, cycling back to town

       

Juice truck in the Main Street of Bocas Town

       

Prime real estate from agents Paradise Found...... Hmm

                                     

But the hibiscuses are beautiful

Bocas Town is very lively; the Main Street is lined with bars, hostels, restaurants and clubs and is jumping at night, which is the main reason for its popularity with travellers.  As directed by our lovely friends we ate Pad Thai in Maracuya restaurant....pretty good.  Many of the shops are Chinese-owned and run and we managed to buy in Hermanos Yung (Yung Brothers), which sold everything, a cheap charger for our trusty iPad, having left the original in Cahuita.  Result!  

   

Leaving the main island, Isla Colon, for Bastimentos   

Eager for somewhere more paradisical, we managed to book 3 nights in the tent lodge and travelled by lancha to Red Frog Beach, named after the eponymous little amphibian inhabitants.  This is more like it, we thought, arriving at the jetty, paying our $5 each entrance fee to the reserve and trekking through the jungle in the rain to the lodge.  

    

Who knew there was a short cut to Paradise?  

     

Our tent, much nicer and bigger than it appears in this photo!

Nestled among the trees, the tents have real beds, wooden floorboards, a lockable wooden chest in which to store valuables, a lamp, some ornaments and real flowers and good quality bedding and towels.  Nice.  We were glad, though, not to have been home when a branch fell from above onto the tent!

       

Eponymous red frog

Turns out that a tree outside our tent was red frog central!  They are tiny, very cute and, despite their name, come in a range of colours: black, blue and yellow, in addition to red.

       

      

The sun came out and stayed out the next day: gorgeous Red Frog Beach 

The sea here is renowned for treacherous currents and, although most visitors swim and/or surf, you need to be very wary of the rip waves and follow the advice writ large on signs everywhere. Several people have drowned swimming or surfing off Red Frog Beach.  Warning signs sponsored by grieving, bereaved parents of young travellers and the permanent red flags are a reminder of this.  We did swim, as the water was so warm and inviting, but were extremely respectful of the current and stayed at around knee-depth.

Strolling along Red Frog Beach:

                                    

       

Exposed roots of a fallen palm tree (about time we had an arty pic, eh?)

      

                                     

Sea urchins (2 arty pics in one post - woo-hoo!)

     

Hermit crab, big purple claw ready to nip any assailant      

Although Red Frog Beach was undeniably beautiful, we didn't really 'feel it' here.  There's a huge development of characterless villas along the coast from Red Frog.  There was a feeling that all that matters is the tourists' dollar and even in our eco-lodge the 'welcome' talk was cold and geared towards persuading us to spend as much money as possible: on tours, surfing lessons, zip lining etc.  As the tent lodge is far from anywhere else within easy travelling distance, the prices for food and drinks are quite high.  Sadly, there have been muggings of tourists on what most claim to be the best beach on Bastimentos, Wizard Beach, the most recent only 2 weeks ago, at gunpoint, and they were with a guide.  We travelled to Bastimentos Town one day.  Sipping coffee in a little cafe above Bastimentos Town we were amazed when a couple we'd met at Cloudbridge ambled in!  Small world.
We travelled there and back by lancha, which was expensive, then when we re-entered Red Frog Beach we were charged entrance fees again, despite wearing our wristbands to prove that we were staying at the lodge and therefore exempt.   Our round trip cost us a budget-busting $30.  We could have hiked to reduce the cost, but that would have involved walking via Wizard Beach, which we were keen to avoid.  

Red Frog Beach, to us, had the feel of a previously idyllic, understated paradise, about to become an exclusive, luxury, gated resort.  Great shame.  It will be interesting to compare notes with our friends about how it has changed since they were there over a year ago.

Where to next?

No internet connection at the lodge on Red Frog Beach, so researching our next destination and finding accommodation was a little difficult.  We were feeling a bit rudderless, all at sea, not knowing where to head for next.  As anticipated, Cloudbridge and Costa Rica were proving difficult to get out of our system.  At Cloudbridge we had a routine and a meaningful goal and, although we have never been ones for rigid structure, preferring to carpe diem, whatever it may bring, we missed this.  In short, we'd lost our collective mojo.  

So, we find ourselves in the small town of Boquete.  A coffee growing mountain town, known throughout Panama for its cool, fresh climate. Flowers, coffee, vegetables and citrus fruits flourish there and it has a large ex-pat community.  Named in a US national magazine as the place to retire to, North Americans flocked there in their droves and set up home.  There is also a sizeable indigenous population, working mostly on the coffee farms, living in overcrowded, very basic conditions.  On a hike to a waterfall, we passed many indigenous people; the women and girls wear long, shapeless smocks, with rik-rak or zigzag trim, the men wear trousers and t-shirts.  They were all friendly and curious, the kids calling 'hola' but seeming to speak very little Spanish.  We asked (in Spanish) one little boy his name -'Valentin' he said, grinning from ear to ear, his arm around his little brother, followed by something very rapid, which didn't sound like Spanish, which we wished we could have answered.

        

Mi jardin es su jardin (my garden is your garden) a big garden of a house owned by a local family, open to the public

Buying strawberries and yogurt at a roadside stall, delicious

                                    

Interesting rock formation on a hike to a waterfall

                                                 

The little waterfall

         

Indigenous coffee workers, living in cramped, basic conditions

        

The local market, bar in the background (frequented by men only) a stark contrast to the pristine town

 

Street art

Although we spent a relaxing few days in Boquete, in an Airbnb outside the town, owned by a nice young couple into healing, with links to Colombian healing arts and culture, we still felt directionless, unfulfilled, and guilty that we are feeling this way despite being so privileged.  Where is that bloody mojo?

Panama City

Take the overnight bus, we thought.  Save a night's accommodation costs, fall asleep in David (the transport hub an hour from Boquete), then awake, refreshed, in Panama City, on Alan's birthday.  But, the bus was absolutely arctic and we did not sleep a wink!  The bus was comfortable, super-reclining seats, no crap music or films blaring out, but it was positively subzero!  Why do they insist on cranking the air-con up to the max on so many long-distance buses in South and Central America?!  Thus, we arrived in Panama City at 4am like zombies and headed straight for our hostel.  The taxi driver buzzed persistently at the door, though our check-in was not until 2pm.  Luckily, the lovely staff let us into our room early to catch up on sleep in a big, comfy bed with crisp white cotton sheets.  Zzzzzz.

Alan's birthday in Panama City

A day strolling around the city; we'd been warned not to take cameras and to be super-careful with any belongings, so we don't have any photos of the very charming old town, unfortunately.  We didn't feel unsafe anywhere, but the we found the people in Panama generally less friendly and open than anywhere else we'd been (except the lovely staff in the hostel, Entre dos Aguas).  The old town is being regenerated and, therefore, gentrified, with restored colonial houses and plenty of mostly expensive bars, restaurants and cafes.  We had been warned to avoid some dodgy (poor) areas (we'd been given a map in the hostel with a big 'NO' scrawled across the no-go areas') which we discovered, cheek by jowl with the posh bit, as with so many cities.  By the sea side is a huge fish market, with local bars and seafood canteens and restaurants.  We saw the huge ships lined up to enter the Panama Canal, though we didn't feel the urge to visit it.  Panama is a big, polluted, busy city, with huge skyscrapers.  Some people have likened it to Dubai.  We were very happy, though, to find a Loving Hut, a vegan restaurant chain, which has a branch in Brighton!  The food was cheap and delicious, with a Chinese theme and very friendly staff, a good birthday lunch for Alan, though the location didn't measure up to mine in gorgeous Manuel Antonio.  We'll celebrate when we arrive somewhere more Alanish.

                                     

                                     

      

 Panama City (from the bus to the airport)

So, after a brief stay in Panama, which we sadly did not warm to at all, off we went to the airport, to fly to our next destination, one we've wanted to visit for years and years and are so excited to be travelling there at last..... Colombia!!!!  

Recipe from Panama: Johnny Cakes.  We had these with breakfast and some dinners at the tent lodge.  We first heard about these little toasted bread affairs from my lovely neighbour of some years ago, George, who was from Belize.  A corruption of 'journey cakes' he told me, as they were very portable, so practical to take when travelling, the recipe varies across the Caribbean.  These are the Panamanian version, Bocas del Toro style:

Ingredients:

3 cups flour

1 tsp salt

1tsp baking powder

1 tsp dry yeast

1tsp sugar (or more to taste)

Half cup butter

125g vegetable suet/shortening

Half can coconut milk

Method

Step one, in a large bowl, mix the flour, salt, baking powder, yeast and sugar.  Next add the butter, vegetable shortening and coconut cream and work it through the flour using your fingers as if you were making a pastry crust.   Now, while working the mixture with your hands or a wooden spoon, gradually add the coconut milk until a bread dough like consistency is reached.  Knead the dough for about 10 minutes and then set it aside in a warm place to rise for about 30 minutes.  Next divide the dough balls just a little smaller than a tennis ball, poke them with a fork and leave them to rest a further 15 minutes or so.

Arrange them on a greased baking tray and bake them in a regular oven at 300 degrees Fahrenheit until they are golden.

Next post: 'Hello mojo - welcome back' - Colombia!

 

      

                                        

Coastal Costa Rica... Corcovado to Cahuita

Cloudbridge was always going to be difficult to follow, we knew that from early on.  So, taking advice from many we'd met, we headed off to Drake Bay, or Bahia Drake (Drah-kay), as it's known in Costa Rica, named after that Sir Francis bloke.

During the long bus ride, Alan suddenly asked the date.  13th, I said, why?  Because we've booked the room from 14th, he said......  Our final week of catering at Cloudbridge had obviously fried our brains!  Luckily our hasty email sent from a roadside cafe during a bathroom break to the owner of the accommodation was answered by the next break - our room was available!  After a long, hot bus journey we found ourselves, in the late afternoon, with other travellers and locals in a riverside restaurant in a small town called Sierpe, waiting for the boat to Drake Bay. 

   

Scarlet macaw ......a local resident in a tree next to the restaurant

Soon, the captain made himself known and we all boarded the little boat.  In the fading light we sped down the river, slowing as we entered a narrow tributary lined with meandering mangroves, before emerging into choppy open sea, where Alan's arm was tightly gripped by the Italian woman next to him, who screeched and crossed herself every time we hit a wave.

      

Heading to Drake Bay in the fading light....

     

 

....Under a dramatic sky

   

      

Magnificent mangroves

Dolphins are often spotted during the 40 minute journey, but not this time, but no matter;  it was a spectacular journey.  Despite having read about it on the Internet and looked at others' photos, as we neared the shore we were unprepared for the low-key, lush natural beauty of Drake Bay.

       

       

View from our room next day 

As soon as we arrived at our accommodation and the owner had enjoyed a good laugh about our premature arrival we booked an additional night - it was stunningly beautiful there and the view from our little balcony was superb.  For once, we opted for breakfast at the hostel (we'd cooked enough breakfasts to last us a good while), but cooked our other meals in the shared kitchen.  The kids' favourite, gallo pinto, was, of course, on the breakfast menu!

      

'Where'd you think you've been?!': cherrie's tanager pair in the tree outside our room: 

The main reason travellers go to Drake Bay is to visit Corcovado National Park, a nature reserve, preferred by many to Manuel Antonio for its remoteness and limit on both the numbers of tourists allowed into the reserve each day and the area accessible to the public.  Entrance is allowed only by booking in advance, and accompanied by a guide.  We booked via the hostel and were also excited to book a snorkelling tour to Cano Island, renowned for its marine life and coral reefs.  The first day, though, we just wandered along the golden palm-fringed beaches and swam in the calm, warm sea.  This'll do!

Every evening during our stay at Drake Bay we enjoyed the twilight roosting of the green parrots; what a racket!  With a beer/juice in hand, we watched them fly in from every direction at 5.20pm sharp to the trees near our balcony, landing on each others' heads and hanging upside down from the branches, so comical.  At 5.38pm they flew to their final choice of roost and all was quiet again.  

    

Wish this image had sound - noisy little buggers!

It's still strange to us, hailing as we do from a country where the sun can rise at any time from 4.30am in the summer to 8am in the winter and set from as early as 3.30pm and as late as 11pm, that here in the tropics the sun rises and sets at the same time each day.  

The snorkelling trip to Cano Island was the highlight of our visit - absolutely fantastic.  We've been on loads of snorkelling trips in our time, but never with a guide.  His love and enthusiasm for his job were obvious and he was as thrilled as we were when we encountered green turtles, many, many different fish, white-tipped reef sharks and, our favourite that day-  spotted eagle rays - gliding elegantly beneath us and sting-rays, barely visible under the sand on the sea-floor.  We were in the warm water for hours.  Others we met said that they were disappointed as they'd snorkelled the Barrier Reef, Borneo etc.  Beats us how anyone can be blasé about seeing such amazing creatures.  A top day.

       

Beach where we stopped for lunch

Corcovado National Park

   

Next day, bright and early, off by boat to Corcovado.  Several groups arrived at the same time and off we all trekked with our guides through the jungle.  Guides in Costa Rica (and most likely all over the world) now have scopes on tripods through which you can see the animals and birds clearly and, through which you can take a photo through with your smart phone ..if you have one, .  Not far into the jungle we spotted a sloth, basking in the early morning sun at the top of the canopy.

        

Photo of a sloth through the guide's scope

        

A curaçao: these huge birds, members of the turkey family, make a very low booming sound

     

Woodpecker

        

The Sirena Rangers' station, one of the stations where visitors can stay overnight

     

Iguana in a log

                                 

Alan dwarfed by a strangler fig

   

Beautiful bromeliad - did you know that pineapples are bromeliads?  It's one long biology lesson here in Costa Rica

     

At last... A collared peccary!  We'd seen their footprints and heard them snuffling around at Cloudbridge, but never saw one

     

Another one - a whole family group, bustling about in the undergrowth - quite indifferent to humans and they produce a very 'distinktive' aroma from their scent glands

        

Our first glimpse of a TAPIR!!!

    

And a closer look - cooling off in the mud - they're enormous, the size of a cow

    

Young howler monkey

       

Spider monkey

   

Jesus Christ lizard, so-called as they can run on water... Cool

Not a bad roll call of flora and fauna.  The guide was disappointed that we did not see a puma, as there had been several sightings over the past couple of days, but we were more than happy with what we'd seen.  And, just as we were finishing our hike, we happened upon a group of about 40 coatis... A fantastic finale.

      

      

Grooming coatis .... Aaaaah

      

We thoroughly enjoyed our time in Drake Bay, relaxing, hiking and swimming: the perfect way to cope with our Cloudbridge withdrawal symptoms.  One day we walked from our bay, Agujitas, to Josecito, 4 hours there and 2 and a half back, through the jungle and passing bay after idyllic bay, most of them deserted.  

                                   

Now you see me.....

        

Now you don't... The water really was this colour and reminded us of the Mexican cenotes

         

         

                                        

Amazing ceiba tree - with green photosynthetic bark

   

Gerroff!

        

Another stunning deserted beach

         

         

         

These guys hurtled in from nowhere, in pursuit of another capuchin

     

 Before giving up the chase and just hanging out (this little one's just a couple of feet away)

All too soon our extended stay at Drake Bay was over.  We decided to head for the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica, having so far only seen the Pacific coast.  We'd met several travellers who loved the party scene at Puerto Viejo, with its reggae/rasta vibe, but we opted for the quieter resort of Cahuita, a few kilometres away, but still very Caribbean.

Another lesson learned... Sometimes it's all about the journey

Not relishing the thought of another long and complicated bus journey, we looked online and found a tourist shuttle bus which would take us all the way from Sierpe to Cahuita, instead of having to go all the way to the less than delightful capital, San Jose to change buses.  It was more expensive, sure, but we thought we'd splash out for a rare treat to enjoy the convenience and faster journey.  How wrong could we be?  At 9am the driver found us at the same riverside restaurant we'd arrived at and we boarded a nice clean minibus with loads of legroom.  Shortly another couple climbed on board.  Still good.  Chatting to them, we discovered that they were going to San Jose.  Hmmm... That means we're stopping in the capital after all, we thought, but still, we'll be quicker and won't have the hassle of changing buses.  After a while we saw signs to Manuel Antionio, the national park we'd visited for Anna's birthday, and miles out of our way, but yes, that's where we were heading.  Arriving there, we stopped and the driver grunted that we'd have to get out.  In answer to our query as to why, he said we were changing buses and after about half an hour by the road in the hot sun, another minibus arrived, with another driver and we all got on.  It was shabby and there was no leg room AT ALL.   Loads more tourists from hotels and hostels all around Manuel Antonio were shoe-horned into the vehicle until it was packed full.  At the request of a passenger who'd heard about the place, we stopped at a bridge over a wide, muddy river, where lurked dozens of crocodiles:

      

Now, I'm sure you've gathered from our blog, if you didn't know before, that we are animal lovers, but these things, (plus evil mosquitoes and slimy slugs...) What purpose do they serve?  Horrible creatures.  Sorry to any crocodilophiles out there.  Don't get me wrong, I would never condone the use of crocodile skins for bags or shoes, or wish them harm, but they are seriously nasty ... Just look at that one going for the one getting out of the water.... Yuk.  But fascinating, I must admit, as the hordes of tourists on the bridge obviously agreed.  And they got us out of the sardine can for 10 minutes.

Finally reaching the outskirts of San Jose at around 4pm, one of the tourists had been anxious for miles that she'd miss her flight.  She just made the airport in time.  Then round and round the city we drove until we were all cranky and dizzy,  seeking the Sleep Inn to drop off the couple.  Yet another stop at yet another hotel, then finally on our way to Puerto Viejo via Cahuita.  We hadn't stopped for food and the driver had been working since 10am without a proper break.  Meanwhile, Anna's slightly gippy tummy became seriously growly and man, was she glad when we eventually stopped for a quick snack at a motorway restaurant.  By now the sun was setting and we still had about 4 hours to go (or so we thought).  Just three of us plus the driver now, so at least we could stretch our contorted limbs.   The traffic from San Jose to the unavoidable port of Limon was at a complete standstill due to roadworks... On both carriageways.... Genius!  Anna by now was suffering that feeling of utter dread, praying that we'd reach the next  public toilet in time. The driver looked unsurprisingly knackered and, despite reminding him that we were heading for Cahuita, we ended up in Puerto Viejo,14km beyond, unable to find the other tourist's hostel for ages, then arriving in Cahuita couldn't find our Airbnb, which turned out to be out of town on an unmade road.  What a disaster.  At 10.20pm we reached our accommodation, having started on the 7.15am boat from Drake Bay that morning.  At least we could just fall into bed in our lovely little cabin, but the driver had to return to San Jose that night.  We feared for his safety.  Poor man.  We will think very seriously before taking another shuttle bus!

Cahuita 

       

Cahuita, on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica is delightful little town

Cahuita is an interesting cultural mix.  Founded in 1828 by turtle hunter, William Smith and his family, the town became home to English-speaking sea turtle fishermen of Afro-Caribbean origin, who sailed from the Nicaraguan coast and Bocas del Toro in Panama during the summer month to fish green and hawksbill sea turtles with a harpoon, and grew subsistence crops such as plantains, yucca, yams and coconut.  The many people of Afro-Caribbean origin in the town speak English with a soft, lilting Caribbean accent, Spanish and patois.  There are plenty of rastas and reggae, but it's far more low-key than its brasher neighbour, Puerto Viejo.  Lining the dirt roads, the colourful houses and cafes are mostly wooden and charmingly ramshackle.  

 

The Cahuita National Park was a great surprise.  Nobody we'd met along the way had mentioned it and therefore we had no expectations.  Starting our hike early on a damp morning, after a night of torrential rain, we were the only visitors.  Fringed by white sand beaches and mangroves, the trails were muddy and slippery.  Savouring the early morning freshness we picked our way through the squelchy mud, peering up into the trees in the hopes of spotting e a monkey, bird, or even a sloth.  Not far into the reserve we spotted what I thought was a wet, messy nest.  Alan stood aghast and called me back:  'There's a baby sloth!'.  'Nah', I replied, 'it's a nest'.  'I tell you, it's a baby sloth!'.  'It's a nest', 'It's a baby sloth - it's got toes, two of them!'.  Not daring to hope that it was actually a baby sloth, I retraced my steps and, to my amazement, saw that it was indeed a baby 2 toed sloth, absolutely drenched and bedraggled from the previous night's downpour.

        

First glimpse...... Is it a nest, or......... Could it be....?

        

It IS a baby sloth

        

Just look at its face... So cute

What luck!  With sore necks from gazing upwards we eventually tore ourselves away from the gorgeous creature to continue the hike, spotting numerous birds, crabs and... An armadillo... It scuttled away from us into the undergrowth... We crouched by his hideout, downwind, camera in hand, waiting for him to re-emerge, .  Emerge he did, scampering at some speed between my feet, I couldn't focus the camera in time :

       

Little 9 banded armadillo, up close and personal!   

       

In the Cahuita National Park on a drizzly morning

       

I love this pic taken by Alan of a dragonfly in the reserve

   

Raptor

    

Huge orb spider

Very happy with with our morning's hike we headed back as the rain started, passing groups of cagoule-clad tourists going the other way.  We were so glad we'd started early and witnessed the little sloth waking after a very wet night.  The Cahuita National Park is free to enter, donations welcome.  We loved it.

Many travellers we'd met had recommended the Jaguar Rescue Centre in Puerto Viejo, so we thought we'd give it a whirl.  It was founded by a couple who began their animal rescue career by caring for and rehabilitating an orphaned jaguar, though there are no jaguars there now.  It's quite pricey to enter, but all in a good cause, we thought, when deciding whether to visit, plus we'd get to see the legendary party town.  After our visit, our jury was out about this centre - it seemed as if their heart is in the right place and no doubt they do some very good work: many rescued animals are brought in by locals and the police and successfully rehabilitated, but it all appeared a bit commercial and possibly superficial - there was a slick shop selling very overpriced t-shirts, bags and stickers etc (though obviously animals are expensive to feed and house properly) and we were a bit surprised to learn that they feed a raptor who comes every year from the States for its winter vacation at the centre.  There was a feeding display by one of the volunteers.  Weird, this was a wild animal, yet they encourage it to return by feeding it.  We've often thought how good it would be to volunteer working with animals, but the volunteers there looked bored stiff.  The orphaned baby sloths, possums and howler monkeys were impossibly cute, though, as was the cranky old ocelot, who, quite old when he came, injured. to the centre, kept returning when they tried to reintroduce him to the wild, so he lives there in retirement, sleeping most of the day and snarling grouchily at the volunteers when they bring his food.  The rescue centre now makes sufficient money to employ its own vet now, so good luck to them.

      

Pit viper

       

King snake - not venomous: 'Red on black, OK Jack, red on yellow, kill the fellow' goes the old rhyme, as a reminder of which colour pattern denoted a poisonous snake of this type

(Hopefully we're a bit more enlightened now and don't slaughter the venomous ones willy-nilly)

                                        

Little howler monkey - many are seized from homes where they are kept as illegal pets

The tiny monkeys cling to the volunteers: their surrogate mums.  They also pull any loose strand of hair escaping from under the volunteers' headscarves and tug at shoelaces, sticky plasters etc.  Very cute and very naughty.  Apparently, they start practising the primeval howling sound at a very young age.  

          

Small green frog under a leaf (not rescued - they live and breed in a pond in the grounds) 

Our time in Cahuita was over far too soon and ..... It was also time to leave Costa Rica.  Costa Rica is a country which is often bypassed by backpackers and budget travellers, due to the very high cost of living, which is almost the same as the UK or US for many essential items.  We've managed to keep costs down by self-catering, and, during our 9 weeks at Cloudbridge we were not near a shop, so it was easy not to snack!  How the ordinary Tico/a (as Costa Ricans call themselves) in the street, whose income does not mirror that of the UK or US, manages to live, we have no idea.  Many people grow some edible crops: beans, tomatoes and pumpkins and exchange them with neighbours and family, but how they buy clothes and other essentials is a mystery.  And the women always look so glamorous!  It's rare to see a natural toe- or fingernail: patterned, painted and acrylic'ed to the max is the norm, and tight jeans coupled with close-fitting Aeropostale brand t-shirts, feet squeezed into vertiginous heels, is the uniform of choice.  There are 'American ropa' stores in the bigger towns: large shops selling pre-loved clothes and bedding at very cheap prices.

Costa Rica is an amazing country, one of the most bio-diverse in the world.  It's a stunningly beautiful place and we are so glad we spent time here.  A few facts:

• Costa Rica has more than 800 miles of coastline, Pacific and Caribbean 
• The more than 500,000 species that are found in this small country represent 4%-6% (depending on which report you read) of the total species estimated worldwide. Of these 500,000 species, just over 300,000 are insects.
• About 25 percent of tiny Costa Rica’s land area has been set aside in national parks and protected areas
• The government’s goal is for Costa Rica to become the first carbon-neutral country by 2021
• Costa Rica has no standing army
• Population: ~ 4 million 
• Largest exports used to coffee, bananas and sugar, nowadays eco-tourism and quality medical products such as pacemakers top the list
• Costa Rica borders Nicaragua to the north and Panama to the south. The Caribbean Sea borders Costa Rica to the east and the Pacific Ocean to the west.
• Terrain:  plains stretch along the coast with rugged mountains and over 100 volcanic cones between. Costa Rica also boasts some of the most lush rainforest and pristine tropical beaches in the world.
• Currency: Costa Rican colon (when we were here there were 800 to the pound)
• Climate: Costa Rica has a tropical climate and is warm to hot year-round. The temperature ranges from approximately 24 - 32 degrees centigrade throughout the year with cooler temperatures in the central mountains (it was nippy at Cloudbridge first thing and at night)
• There is a strong focus on education and a stable political climate, making it a top destination for ex-pats, especially North Americans and Canadians
• A large percentage of Costa Ricans live below the poverty line and the cost of living is high compared to other Central and South American countries
• The national dish is... (We'll find out who's been reading closely here).... GALLO PINTO!
• (But, of course, no country is without its problems: Harsh prison conditions, domestic abuse and human trafficking are among the top concerns for Costa Rica,  also child sex exploitation and tourism.  Petty crime is fairly common, too.)

So, adios, lovely Costa Rica, we've had an absolutely wonderful time and you'll be a hard act to follow.

Next post: Southwards to Panama - has anyone seen our mojo?