Day 10
Third day of the Starfish Quest. Getting closer. Last night we made it to the Caribbean side of the country, to the town of Limon. Today we drove to Puerto Viejo, close to the Panama border. Tomorrow we will get a shuttle to cross into Panama and to the island that has the Starfish Beach.
Last night when we got to the Maribu Caribe it was dark, and we fell into bed. The waterfall tour went until 2 and then we drove from one coast to the other. We’re staying in round white yurt-shaped buildings with palm roofs. As we walked to our room we could hear the water but didn’t know its proximity. When we opened the hotel door the next morning, the waves were crashing practically at our feet.
The restaurant felt like a treehouse jutted out into palm trees with the surf booming below. They offered to make us anything for breakfast. The buffet was sufficient and always has yummy rice and beans, but we also got some panqueques and bacon. Everyone happy.
Not much to see in Limon, since it is mostly a working port town, so we head out. The drive down the coast had many wild beaches with rough surf, and lots of light green seagrass waving high above the car. We passed a police station that had thick ropes laid across the road as speed bumps, which is common in this part of the country. There was also a sloth crossing, but sadly no one was crossing at the time, despite our sloth call into the woods.
Next came miles of banana fields, with the bunches tied in plastic blue bags to protect them from the would-be munchers. At the end of the rows were hanging areas where the semi-ripe bunches were cut and hung in their blue bags to be collected. Lots of Dole and Chiquita trucks on the road.
We drove directly to the Jaguar Sanctuary just beyond Puerto Viejo. Many of the animal sanctuaries don’t have entrance fees, but rather mandatory tours with fees, at designated times. Our tour began with a no-jaguar disclaimer (but tickets were already bought), that the sanctuary was named after a baby jaguar they had in the beginning, but now there are none. Perhaps The No-jaguar Sanctuary doesn’t have quite the same ring. I get that. Good thing we saw lots of Jaguars at the macaw sanctuary, that’s clearly where they’re hiding out. It all works out somehow.
Here we saw more sloth (always a crowd pleaser), snakes, white cats, spider monkeys, baby howler monkey, rare birds, red-eyed tree frogs (yay), 3 kinds of owls, baby racoons, crocs, and a termite munching anteater. Good animal day.
They have a booming volunteer program/business, that Cali wants to do for a summer. We thought she would blend in perfectly with the others in the monkey enclosure (volunteers, of course). She wanted to start immediately, and emailed them when she found some wifi. But she will have to wait five years until she’s an adult monkey.
Puerto Viejo is the largest tourist-eager town on the Caribbean. It does have a different vibe, laid back, surfer, let the busy life pass you by. Not a learners-friendly surf, more of a veteran surfer’s surf. The Caribbean influence comes from Jamaica and other islands, people who originally came here to work on the railroads and banana plantations. Quite a few descendants speak patois or Patua, a Creole English sprinkled with some Spanish words.
Much of the food has fresh coconut, lime, and other Caribbean flavors. At Lidia’s Caribbean restaurant, we got just that. Unpretentious, delicious, comfort food.
We walked down the mainstreet to see what we could. Happy hours are from 6-8, no need to rush into anything, now. We did Happy Hour and dessert at Chile Rojo, a restaurant run by a Japanese woman. The mojito was made with vodka. So far every mojito has been an adventure in a glass or in this case, a salad in a glass. In many of the Happy Hours we’ve been to the type of alcohol used in specific drinks seems to vary as to what’s available, and
optional altogether in some we’ve had.
We didn’t see many other visiting families but lots of American and European 20 somethings staying in hostels of every variety. We stayed in a boutique hotel for the first time (whatever that means). It was empty except for us. If it had the word hostel in the name, there would have been some serious backpacker flocking. Marco from Madrid was managing the place and was very helpful. The rooms were new, extremely large, and modern. There were fresh
flowers and a little sitting area outside. The kid took a shower in the modern door-less shower, but streams of water were shooting into the bathroom, and the shower head couldn’t be reached. Before she even got to the conditioner, there was a lake in the bathroom creeping toward the bedroom. Marco mopped up, replaced the shower head, and all was well. Perhaps there should be a boutique screening process to keep the riff-raff to a minimum.
We had three loud fans, probably the closest experience we’ll have to sleeping in a wind tunnel. We turned off the lights. Man-shriek. A frog had dropped on Paul. Then the little green dude froggie-scooted up the wall. We saw no others, so turned off the light again. Girl-shriek. With lightening speed he’d made it to the other side of the large room and dropped on the kid. Impressive froggie teleporting powers. Due to the fan noise, we think he was confused that he’d boarded a prop plane and was trying to jump to safety. It’s the only logical explanation. We were glad the critter dropping on us was of a cuter nature than some of the other rainforest options. But as I fell asleep I did a little “sleep with mouth shut” mantra.