Is that a volcano in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

Weekend 1: Friday, June 29^th – Sunday, July 1^st

Friday
Glorious day – there is a Volcano in my horizon! This morning I get up around my normal time (sixish) and get ready to head out. Despite the fact that I do not need to be ready until 9:15, I am packed and ready to go by 8:30. I am jumpy... and truthfully, I am pretty excited about the Spanish break. The sluggishness in my mind that was imposing my Spanish yesterday has spread into all my thinking processes. I hope the Arenal majesty clears my head.

I overshoot the drop-off at the school by one stop and walk the block back to meet Alicia and Jackie. Jackie says that the cab did not help her last night, driving her around without help until she got out when she saw people she lives near. Now I am even more wary to cab it up – swindlers, the lot of them. Maybe I am projecting, but that is the impression I get.

We are waiting on the rest of the group when a bus pulls up. After a quick explanation from Whitney (“Jackie, get on the bus!”), we are on our way to mid San Jose. A fifteen block hike reveals the shady part of town that houses the bus stop. The bus ride to La Fortuna is long and curvy and sickening. I label pictures until my stomach threatens to rebel and then breathe deeply from the open window to my left. Costa Rica may not have much air conditioning, but they have a great ventilation system. I take some fun pictures on the way up (including a video aptly named: The Cloud) and rejoice in the cooling temperatures... which seem to die off as soon as we arrive in La Fortuna.

We get to La Fortuna in the afternoon and walk to a grocery store (Super Christian Number 2!). We start to pick out breakfast comida, but some of the girls want to check out the ammenities of Gringo Pete’s, our hostel, before we buy food.

So we find our way to Gringo Pete’s – a larger purple tree house style building. It is very neat; Pete welcomes us, and his assistant/manager Marta takes our money. We split into rooms (me with Jackie and Beth) and are given the grand tour. My room and Allison/Britney’s room are up small wooden sets of stairs, while Hannah’s room is on the bottom floor. Pete’s has a kitchen fully supplied and a den. Nice digs.

We want to ask Marta about the Hot Springs/Volcano tour we have found, so we sit in her office and try to decipher two magic eye posters – one of the statue of liberty, another of a whale and a dolphin – while we wait. Hannah is rattling the scenes off, but try as I might, I cannot see anything more than a few shadows. I’ve got no skills.

Finally, we get to talk to Marta and ask her about our tour. She tells us that they offer the same tour for two bucks less than the other. It leaves at 3:15 tomorrow, and I am pretty psyched.

Food is now of primary importance, so after a delicious dinner of chicken nachos and dastardly strong daiquiris, the group checks out the grocery situation. We decide on bread and jelly for the morning and chips for lunch (they do not have peanut butter). Groceries bought, we trek back home and store everything in the lockers in Sara and Hannah’s room.

Then the card games begin. Sara, Alicia, Laura, Beth, Jackie, Hannah, and I play Nertz while Allison and Britney hang out inside. Cool Fact: I learn a new card game every time I leave the country. Europe: Spoons (and some other I cannot remember). Jamaica: Phase 10! Also, some Spades-like game. Here: Nertz.

I never win a game, but I never get in the negatives either, which I hear is good. We are laughing and screaming, deep into Spoons playing (my game), when a young lady smoked us into the house. Pretty soon, we wind down and call it a night. Such plans for the morrow!

Saturday
We have no where to be until 3:15, so the name of the game is sleep in. Or at least until eight. Sara said something about walking around town, so I get up and take a shower in a pleasantly hot and pressurized shower. I towel off with my old clothes (my reward for packing light) and join Sara for toast and coffee (yay!). I grab my journal for some quality time and listen to some of the conversations floating around me.

We have met so many people while traveling, from British to Irish to Australian to French to German to Latin Americans: you name it, we have probably run across it. I love knowing why people are here. It seems for the most part to be a teacher mecca.

We decide around ten (once everyone is up and showered) to walk to “the most photographed house of worship” as claims Sara’s guide book. Once there, we are not sure – is this award for all of Costa Rica or just La Fortuna (it is the only church)? We figure the only reason the rather plain white washed building gets any major attention is due to the grand volcano standing at its back.

We snap some obligatory photos (who are we to diss its reputation?), but quickly cross the street to a small park. Here I am amazed at the plethora of beautiful flowers and their abundance. I aim my pictures at floras and their dazzling petals and wander happily.

After a bit, we head to another grocery store (Super Christian Number 1!), passing a tourist shop Hannah and I promise to return to en la mañana. We do not find peanut butter at this mercado either, but we do get a reason: salmonella contamination in the US. So we come up with a solution and buy packages of peanuts.

Back at Pete’s, we make our dinners (peanut and jelly sandwiches, chips, cookies, and una manzana) and chill until 3:15. Then we meet our guide. Marco is young, excited, and determined for us to have a good time. He tells us he is going to speak to us solamente en Español, a fact that excites me and makes some of the group blanch. Unfortunately, the rest of the people we pick up make it imperative for him to speak in English, which for a while is harder to understand than his English.

We bus to the base of the third most active volcano in the world, only about fifteen minutes away, where the hike begins. Marco está muy emocionado as he takes us up the vertically inclined steps leading deep into the rainforest. At times he just stops – “listen.” You can hear the volcano; you can hear the animals. ¡Que bueno!

My favorite things to see: 2 two-toed sloths, one of which I get an awesome picture; rubber from a rubber tree; an insect that looks like a leaf; 2 toucans; and some of the most awesome views I can imagine.

After the extremely strenuous hike (and I have read that it is nothing compared to some), we see our goal: Arenal... shrouded by clouds. I knew this might happen, but as it gets dark, the clouds are supposed to clear. We are shuttled around to the other side of the Volcano, where lava has recently shifted flow. As we stand on the side of the road, we can see a few glowing rocks jumpily begin their rolling descent. Unfortunately, the real show begins just as we leave.

Marco gives us some great Arenal history as we bus to the hot springs; I am impressed with his passion. In my book the Baldi Springs are some of most expensive and the most touristy of the springs. I am torn between thinking we got a great deal and being a bit upset at the crowd. It takes us so long to get a locker and change (though we do enjoy the dinner we have packed), that we have one hour to enjoy the springs before we have to get ready to meet Marco.

But one step in the hot, hot water, and I am won over. Hannah, Beth, and I sink into the largest pool and segregate ourselves form the world. It is heaven – the hot bath I have not yet had. We soak and laugh and relax for quite a bit before deciding to check out the other pools. We flit from pool to pool, never staying long, enjoying the heat and company. Hannah and I decide to track down the Mayan Pyramid I read about. After hiking up to the top of the springs, we see it: a “rio verde” of grass and a huge Mayan replica with two ginormous water slides... in production. This is what I get for having an up to date guide – incomplete slides.

We spend our last few minutes in the large pool, jumping back and forth from the heat to the small cold pool in the center and ignoring the negative comments coming from some of the girls when it sprinkles a bit. Then we gather our stuff, completely refreshed, and meet Marco for the trip back.

I am no longer tired, so once back at Pete’s, Hannah and I drag Beth back out in search of ice cream. We do not find it, but we do get Tres Leches (which Hannah calls soggy bread), coke, and good company. I am content.

We make it back, trade Hannah for Jackie, and bed down. It has been a long and glorious day.

Sunday
Bus. That pretty much sums up today. I get up around seven and take a shower. After I shake my bag from the spiders that infested it last night (it seems that itty bitty spiders rule CR!) and spray us both with a healthy dose of insecticide, Hannah and I gather our stuff and head out to try and find a tourist shop. I steal her idea to collect magnets from places she has been, and we both pick up a fun one of the volcano. I also get a cheap postcard that I am going to send to Matthew’s parents. I need to buy the rest of my postcards tomorrow so I can send them Tuesday.

Souvenirs in hand, we traipse down the street and meet the other girls to load onto the bus. And so it begins – the three and a half hour grueling ride to San Ramon, including an hour long stop to wait for another bus to come and pick up half our passengers when we got overcrowded. I familiarize myself with my guide book during this time and plan out a bit more our time here. Sara, Alicia, and Jackie want to do Monteverde with us, so we are going to work around their Torteguero trip. The last weekend we are going to do Manuel Antonio and then say our goodbyes to the group and head to Panama on Sunday. ¡Que emocionante!

I am seated next to a girl who does not seem keen to talk, so there is little else to do but sit and enjoy the scenery.

Finally, we reach San Ramon, and after a quick ticket and bathroom break we are ready to board the bus to San Jose. Well, except for me. Due to being the last in the bathroom, I am one of the last in line for the bus. Just as I am about to board, the driver stops me. He tells me to wait – he needs to check the number of seats left. Entonces, when he returns, he lets on three guys that had been traveling with us earlier. I want to tell him that all my friends are already on the bus, but he won’t stop long enough to listen to me. I am pretty sure that I going to be left behind, which isn’t too bad, but I wonder if anyone notices. I do not want them to freak out later. De repente, the doors open again. “Una amiga?” I hear. Alicia’s head pops out the door – “Sarah, get on.” I jump up, hand the guy my ticket, and claim the only seat open: in the handicapped spot. I turn around and mouth gracias to Alicia. She just nods. That was close. Alicia later tells me that she tried to get off the bus before he let me on, but he kept telling her to sit down. But it all worked out, gracias por Dios.

On the bus, I sit next to a Californian named Charlie, and we share a very pleasant two hour trip, discussing all manner of fun things: surfing, teaching, music... mostly stuff about him. I throw in some stuff about me, y’know, so he knows I have some vanity. ;) The ride is nice (wonderful after the first), and soon we are back home in San Jose. It is a seventeen block trek back to a bus stop, so we stop and get ice cream on the way... or maybe we just like ice cream. :)

Alicia, Jackie, and I make it to our stop, and the rest of the trip passes without pause. I arrive back home while my mamá tica is taking un siesta, so I follow suit. After a quick cold shower, I sleep for three hours. When I wake up, I am afraid that I have missed dinner, even though it is only six. Although at home that would mean no dinner, here we do not eat until seven or eight. So, I wait. But, by seven I am very hungry. Just as I am about to break down and ask for food, I smell it cooking. So I wait, salivating at the thought of dinner. Finally, they call me.

I talk with my mamá and abuela tica about my trip and greedily devour my pasta, delicately picking at my papaya (no me gusta). My mamá tica looks at my abuela tica and says: she only had a sandwich earlier, so she has to be hungry. I am not sure why I feel the need to correct her; it really isn’t important. But I did: I tell her that I actually only had two pieces of toast at eight and haven’t eaten anything since then due to the bus ride. She is horrified. They get mad at me (not really) and tell me that if I am hungry, I should ask – I can have a snack! I don’t know what to say. I tell her that I was tired so I didn’t think about food when I got home, but in the future I will ask. It is un poco comico.

I have no homework, so after dinner I go to my room and type up a journal entry. I can hear multiple Shania Twain songs coming from my parents’ room. I want to go join them and enjoy music I know, but I think that it might be a little strange if I go and jump on their bed – the only TV is in their room. Ah well. I finish up my journaling and throw myself into bed. It has been a long, but great weekend.