Cheryl's research abilities and Bob's passion for photography
makes them naturals  for travel journalism.  Learn about what they have discovered in various articles!

Very few places beckon one back with vivid memory.  Some say Alaska has that allure. Costa Rica does too.  Every day was unique, hitting all the senses, starting upon our arrival.   

Stimulated by the hustle and bustle of the city life in congested San Jose, you feel it’s rhythm aligned with public transportation times revealed by workers hastily walking past in waves.  Leaving that behind, we head to the interior of this small country to see the famous volcano, Arenal,  and soak in it’s medicinal  warm hot springs with massage pulsating waterfalls.   We immerse ourselves in the lush tropical greenery, high above on swinging bridges surrounded by tropical birds, petite frogs, poisonous snakes and smelly animals that alert our senses to their presence. The day ends as we perch at the foot of the caustic, silent, volcano, overlooking the lake we will cross the next day.  The magnificent sunset bids us safe travels as we listen to a toucan in the distance.

Heading toward Monteverde, by boat, then by a 4-wheel drive vehicle, it is slow going on a bumpy, winding, unmaintained road with no direct route.   Sauntering cowboys on horseback with a herd of cows, flocks of squawking parrots and run down haciendas near tended coffee fields are images that traverse our path. By night’s end we find ourselves feeling even more isolated as we enjoy the local cuisine with fellow, very cool travelers and become reliant on the moon for light as we head to our individual cabin bordering the vast cloud forest. 

The next day tests our sense of safety and distance.  We explore by traveling across hanging bridges above the rolling clouds and hike to a point that overlooks the Pacific Ocean and Caribbean Sea.  We stumble upon an out grove of wild sunflowers towering over the path and get better at finding the many colorful birds, so good at disguise with only a hint of their presence by hearing their song.   A cotimundi performs a vanishing act right before our eyes as the hummingbirds twitter ahead.  An adventurous zip lining experience further challenges the sense of fear that is pushed to the back of our minds yet, so ever present as to the reality that one false move awaits death. 

Heading westward, the forest greens and deep hued blues of the tropical forest turn to oranges, turquoise and sage as we go to a dryer  climate.  Tamarindo’s beach is perfect with rolling waves attracting surfers at high tide and shell seekers at low tide.  After renting bikes, we find ourselves on a boat with George, dubbed “of the Jungle”, who promises us a view of  monkeys in their own habitat up-river.  True to his word, we find two troops, eerily howling, after a ride in a hardly sea worthy craft.

Back home, I still search after tshe bird’s song and marvel that I had a chance to defy nature by standing above treetops.  I think of George and Carlos, a religious people, and how in-tune and respectful they are with nature and its patterns.  Most of all I think of all the glorious colors that filled my eyes which beckons me back for more.

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