San Jose

It was our last day in Costa Rica and I'd saved the capital, San Jose, for last. That morning, we woke up, grabbed some McDonald's for breakfast and wifi, and caught the bus into downtown.

The whole experience was trippy for me. I don't know if my sister really caught on to how many memories I was reliving just while riding the bus. I was definitely in my own little world.

The bus stopped at its usual spot by la caja which is just a big, boxy, concrete government building that has lots of bus stops around it. From there I oriented myself and we headed for the national theater. 

I'd been to the cafe inside the theater only once in my time in Costa Rica. Funny enough, my first visit there was also towards the end of my time living in San Jose, when it felt necessary to go do something with the one roommate you got along with because you both knew this would be the functional end of your friendship.

I ordered some latté and Andrea got a white hot chocolate or something. The coffee was good but our server was so not about indulging us. I ended up getting out of my seat to ask what the pastry options were. If I remember, we got some sort of delicious cake (which should not be a surprise since we're Pinedas).

Do you ever feel like you don't look like yourself in a photo? That's what this is for me.

We took a tour of the theater shortly after our mid morning treat. Fun fact: the theater is a to-scale smaller replica of the national opera in Paris. At least the inside is. I'm going to majorly plonk* right now and tell you that I love that I saw the original theater one summer and sat in a concert in the replica not three months later.

But I digress.

Auditions for something were happening as we were taking our tour so we got to sit in the dark and watch dancers be amazing. We reminisced about high school theater auditions and rehearsals and how we miss it all (OK not all of it).

I know this photo is pretentious. I don't care.

I was antsy to show Andrea my neighborhood and host home, so we jumped on the bus my expired instinct told me to take. Sadly, my instincts had us take the express bus which meant we got off pretty far away from where we should have. Andrea was a total trooper. It was hot, there was a World Cup game about to start, and here I was forcing her to walk all over an area even I hardly remembered when we could have just taken the correct bus or a taxi!

We eventually reached my host university, Universidad Veritas. A bit had changed around the campus, but I took Andrea all the way up the stairs to where I took my Spanish class and explained to her the details of what the food court area used to look like (did I mention she was a trooper?) and then took her to see where I learned how to Latin dance.

All the furniture would be pushed aside and we'd get to dancing. I miss those days and what it did for my waist.

My host home is literally around the corner from the university, so I took Andrea to go see it. I hadn't contacted my host mom, who I'll now refer to as my mama tica, so she had no idea I was coming over. I had no idea if she was home or on vacation. I knocked on the door and...she was there!

Outside my bedroom window!

I had to jog her memory a little bit about who I was. It's completely understandable: she hosts one to four students each semester, so she has lots of names to remember and forget.

Anyway, I showed Andrea my room, which looked almost the same. She saw the kitchen where my roommate Devin and I once ate cold leftover lasagna after a night out at the bar. I'll never forget that she called my pairing of lasagna and orange juice "gnarly."

I knew I had totally interrupted her day, so I took a quick photo with her and said goodbye. It was time to go back to the home bar of study abroad: Los Pros.

The bar's technically named Los Profesionales but us milens (translation: millennials) dialed it back to Los Pros. Now, the place has changed significantly over the last three years, but luckily, Edgar, the owner has not. He comes across tons of people, loads of students every semester, that I was sure he wouldn't remember me. Maybe he didn't. As I remember it, I don't think he knew my name, but he remembered my face thanks to -- wait for it -- Facebook. So did the main bartender, Monica, who is now all sleeved out and fab as ever.

I ordered my study abroad usual: rum with pineapple juice and Andrea finally got to try the Costa Rican beer. I'm talking about Imperial. I'm not a beer girl so I won't pretend to know how to describe the taste, but Andrea said it was like a Corona, but better.

I'm getting off topic! The point was to tell you that my drink was basically rum with a splash of juice.

Edgar had hooked it up as usual.

We needed to go souvenir shopping before sundown, so we sadly said our goodbyes to Edgar and jumped on the bus back into the city. We got to the mercado artesanal and had a ball picking out all the things. I bought huaraches as a consolation for not being able to replace my beloved purse. Andrea bought herself a backpack and we spent all our colones except for enough to buy airport food the next day.

The dark came too quickly and we headed back by bus to our friend Monika's for dinner. She took us to see her parents, who knew Andrea and I before we had memories. We picked up Monika's daughter Dani from school and grabbed a final dinner at a local spot with awesome fried food and a cool environment. (Legit almost just typed in Spanish...what is my brain?!)

Before I knew it, the trip had come and gone and it was time to give back all the joys vacation lends you. We turned the car in, ate a ridiculously overpriced lunch, and sat in the terminal to watch Costa Rica play the Netherlands in the World Cup. The game went to a shoot out that CR just wasn't able to win. That part was sad. It helped distract me from the sadness of leaving.

I'm trying so hard not to get all philosophical and lofty so I'll just say this: I felt like I got to go home for a little bit, and I'm thankful I was able to share it with Andrea. Study abroad can feel unreal. It can feel like you fell asleep for a semester and only dreamed you saw and ate and did what you did. Going back and sharing it with someone who only interacted with my experience via Facebook photos solidified that I did do this. It was real.

And that is cool.

♥ A

*Plonk: the travel equivalent of name dropping. Origin: Barbara Gausewitz

Sarchi

One of my professors from study abroad, we just called him Milton, once mentioned this awesome place called Sarchi. He told me of a place where traditionally painted ox carts packed the roads and where you could really experience traditional Costa Rican coffee culture.

His description of this place sounded like something Disneyland would want to replicate and something I needed to see. 

But I didn't. I totally missed it when I was living in San Jose. 

So with day trips becoming plan A for the last part of our trip, I convinced Andrea that this would be a good idea. 

I'm gonna burst everyone's excited bubble quickly: Sarchi was not that exciting. Did I see a few cool ox carts? Yes. But is Sarchi really a destination worthy of a full day? I'd say no. 

I foolishly expected something straight out of Disneyland and was unimpressed when I didn't get it.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, as usual. Our previous attempt to visit Volcan Poas being unsuccessful, we decided to try again before driving out to Sarchi. This time, we started our trip up the mountain much earlier since I'd read that the morning tends to yield the best chance of a view.

There were a few clouds in the sky, but nothing too daunting. Of course, until we reached the gate. The sun and fluffy white puffs gave way to cold, overcast, misty skies. The same gentleman from the day before warned us that the volcano wasn't visible, so he didn't recommend we use our money to see nothing. By this point, we were already determined to make the hike out to the crater viewing point, so we paid our foreigner entrance fees (even though he totally thought we were nationals) and entered the park.

The hike looked like something out of Into the Woods or Sleeping Beauty. I felt like I was going to encounter an evil dragon around one of the bends, but we only passed up a woman prancing through the mist in high heeled sneakers.

The concerned park ranger was right. The volcano's iconic crater was nowhere to been seen. The fog was thick and revealed nothing. Regardless, we snapped a tourist photo before heading off on our way to Sarchi.

After driving through many more residential streets than I'd mentally prepared myself for, we finally found ourselves near the town square. True to my professor Milton's lore, in the center of the plaza, right in front of the church, was the world's largest ox cart. We walked around it and mildly judged a dozen or so tourist teenagers who were posing for an instagram photo.

The cart is fenced in so you can't really go up to it and see the insane hand painted details, which is a bit of a bummer. So we wandered around the plaza and stared at the church's pretty intricacies. Andrea picked up some pansito (just a cutesy way of saying bread in Spanish) from a bakery across the street for us to enjoy after lunch.

We made a joke that when lost (in Costa Rica), always orient yourself by where the church is.

We'd passed by a big souvenir market on our way into the center of town. It seemed like the best place to ask where we could get a piece of the Sarchi experience. I ended up just asking where I could find some decent food since it was nearing lunch time and we were getting hungry. It turned out that there was a restaurant right behind the souvenir shop called Restaurante La Finca. I drove down a steep hill and parked in a patch of grass near a butterfly garden that we had no intention of visiting, even if we did have time to kill (see previous butterfly-induced fright here). We walked up, and even though we were the only patrons in the middle of the day, we sat down because there was free wifi. Luckily, the food was delectable, the portions were large, and the strawberry lemonade was yummy.

We scarfed our food until we couldn't scarf anymore.

Growing up, my parents routinely, almost obsessively, had coffee after every meal. In fact, the eating time isn't over until everyone who drinks coffee has a mug of it in their hand. They do this to this day. Whenever Brandon and I have lunch or dinner at my parents' house, I'm guaranteed to be offered coffee within five minutes of finishing the food on my plate.

La Finca was no different. Our server came by and offered me some coffee, which I happily accepted. He disappeared for a moment and returned with an old school pour over system. You know, the kind that use cloth as a filter instead of paper? It was so cool...I'm totally kicking myself six months later for not taking a picture of it. But geez if that coffee wasn't delicious. I sat there, sipped my coffee, and soaked in the moment with my sister.

On our way back to the main highway, I made an impulse decision to stop at a furniture store with an ornate front. It ended up paying off because we got to see some real life antique ox cart wheels!

We also got to witness an artisan hand paint a tray.

I asked for his name before we left and I told myself to remember it, but I wouldn't be able to tell you what letter his name started with. I don't actually think we were supposed to be walking around watching them, but no one said anything to us, so we watched intently as this interesting mute man gestured to me as if he was teaching me how to paint traditional designs.

In a nutshell, if you want to experience coffee culture, take a tour of a plantation. But if you do find yourself in Sarchi, visit Restaurante La Finca, you won't be disappointed.

Not Puerto Viejo: Our Day at La Paz Waterfall Gardens

This post is long, but there are more photos than words. That is blatantly false.

If you must skim, at least read the section on Frogs. It was the best.

Last time, I left off telling you that we were running out of money and couldn't stay in Manuel Antonio even though we really wanted to.

The original plan was to drive across the country and spend three days frolicking in the Caribbean sea and visiting rescue centers. But I guess the universe had something else in mind. We decided not to fight it to avoid getting lost and stranded in the middle of Costa Rica and settled on exploring the area around San Jose. My navigational track record made that decision lots easier.

Now here's where we got lucky. Andrea and I have a family friend (really she's my mom's friend) who lives in Costa Rica, not too far from the airport. She's a very generous and welcoming person in general, but it still meant a lot that she let us crash at her place for the last three days.

Our first day adventure was to La Paz Waterfall Gardens. I found this place by using the "Nearby" feature on the TripAdvisor app. We were on an animal-viewing high and weren't ready to come down from it, so we decided to endure the $38 admission fee for the hope of seeing a sloth. LPWG is a private ecological tourist attraction. It's filled with hiking trails, five fab waterfalls and a large amount of animal exhibits. I hesitate to call it a private zoo because that has a weird connotation to me, but in essence, that's what it is.

birds

The birds were the first stop on our hike, which I can hardly justify calling a hike since it's basically a walk along a paved path. But it is a long walk, so maybe that makes it a hike. Anyway, we walked through a hanging plastic chain barrier to be welcomed by some handlers hanging out with toucans! I'd never seen a toucan up close and personal before, and although I'm a fan of birds of prey, I'd always had a general aversion to getting close to other birds.

But this. This was different. This was awesome.

The handlers placed a toucan on Andrea's arm and I snapped photos like a crazy person. Andrea had no poker face about this whatsoever. She was beyond excited and it showed.

Next thing I knew, it was my turn. They placed the toucan on my arm and I was instantly overcome with respect for the gorgeous bird I was looking at.

See that blue band around my wrist? That's not a bracelet, that's the toucan's foot. It was the feature that stuck out to me the most. Yes, the bird's beak is insanely cool, but blue feet? That was not at all what I was expecting.

We moseyed past the parrots and the rest of the aviaries before arriving at the scariest place on property: the butterfly garden.

butterflies

Believe it or not, my sister and I are terrified of butterflies and moths. I can't speak for my sister, but my fear dates back 15 years. I was 10, walking with my mom to pick up the mail from our apartment's mailbox one night. There was a bright yellow light bulb shining, so of course there were moths around it. They were flying around us when one of them decided to try and perch on my mouth. It got right up on my lips and flapped about for what felt like 10 minutes but I'm certain was 2 seconds. And I just remember tightening my lips fearing that this thing would try to crawl into my mouth.

It was really horrifying.

There were a couple of times where we made a break for it out of sheer panic, staring strangers be damned!

Ok, no joke, as I was writing that last sentence I thought, I would rather free dive with sharks than have a butterfly land on me, out loud to myself.

monkeys

The reward for not screaming our heads off in the butterfly sanctuary was monkeys. I have to admit that having seen monkeys in the wild a few days earlier made seeing these rescues a little less exciting, but I snapped photos regardless.

hummingbirds

Hint: there are no hummingbirds in this photo.

Here's where I start making no sense. I am scared to death of butterflies, but I have no qualms with hummingbirds. I love those zippy little birds that have wings that beat anywhere from 50 to 200 times a SECOND. Seriously, how could you not like hummingbirds?

I'm sure someone out there is wondering the same thing about butterflies.

I caught some pretty cool shots of the hummingbirds. I paid special attention to the ones that looked like Flick from Pocahontas.

jungle cats

Next up were the cats. This was the highlight of our visit to LPWG for both of us. We've loved big cats since childhood so we were both really excited to see them. True to form, most of the cats were lounging around.

We oohed and aahed at the pumas, the margay and the ocelots but were stopped dead in our tracks at the sight of the majestic jaguar. We were instantly mesmerized by the way this animal walked. Seriously, I can't even pretend to make this moment less nerdy than it was. We stared at the jaguar long enough for a group to catch up to us, snap photos, jaguar watch for a bit, and move on.

I couldn't get over how freaking beautiful its coat was. It was perfect. And seeing the way its muscles moved when it walked was beyond amazing. I was overcome with this feeling of utter respect for this animal. Andrea and I knew that if some Harry Potter magic caused the glass to disappear, we'd be perfectly safe. Call it hippie nonsense or tree-hugging mumbo jumbo, but we knew.

casita

We eventually pried ourselves away from the jaguar (some rain helped) to explore the casita tipica or traditional home that LPWG has on property. We got to pet some oxen that were hooked up to an old traditional ox cart and walked around a replica farmhouse built by hand with tools from the early 20th century. The website advertises traditional food tastings and some other interactive experiences, but I'm not sure what the scheduling for those is. We didn't catch all the casita has to offer, but it was still really neat to walk through.

frogs

Next up was the frog exhibit. This might be tied for best experience of the day. We walked in to this large, humid room filled with all kinds of plants...and frogs! That's right, the frogs were roaming free through the room. Most of the frogs in the exhibit were nocturnal, so they weren't really moving around too much. There we were, minding our own business, trying to catch a frog sighting, when the frog guide came up to us and started pointing out where we could find certain frogs.

The guy-de (see what I did there?) took a liking to us and started telling us how to tell the difference between the male and female frogs. I'll let you in on it: the female tree frogs are larger than the males.

FYI: this is a female.

We walked us around the room pointing out frog species (in their Latin names, of course) and giving us fin facts about each. For example, these tiny frogs' skin would burn if we touched them because their skin is so thin and incredibly susceptible to changes in temperature. One touch from us and the poor frog's body would overheat.

I had a weird existential moment where the delicateness of life was plainly apparent.

These frogs are nicknamed "Blue Jeans" because of their blue legs.

Next thing I know, the guide is asking us if we're interested in seeing some of the frogs up close and personal. Andrea and I looked at each other and decided that yeah, even though we aren't frog people, we'd like to take a closer look at some.

The guy then leads us through a locked door into what is essentially a frog rehab office. He explains to us that this is where they keep the frogs that have been injured in some way as well as the where they monitor the tadpoles as they go through their transformation into frogs.

Let me be clear that Andrea is beaming the whole time. I, on the other hand, am split between identifying where the sharp objects are to use as makeshift weapons, if necessary (obvi) and allowing myself to enjoy this unbelievably cool moment in my life.

The guy lures out a red eyed tree frog from a glass enclosure and shows us her injury, a scratch on her eye. He lets us take as many photos of her as we want, always careful to show her good side to the camera. He then places her on Andrea's face and lets the frog kind of crawl around for a bit.

Then it was my turn. I never thought of myself as afraid of frogs. I mean, I never picked any up as a kid or sought out frogs in streams, but I also didn't think I was afraid of them. But in this frog rehab about to have a tree frog walk on my face, I have to tell you I was nervous. I thought she'd be sticky or that she'd leave slime on my face, or that my makeup would seep into her skin and make her sick. But I pushed down the fear and let the guide hold the frog up to my face.

I felt her soft, cold feet on my cheek and all my fears disappeared. And for that small moment I let my guard down and just soaked in the fact that I was lucky enough to be picked by this guy, who could have picked anyone, to come behind the scenes to have a red eyed tree frog walk on my face.

We got to see a golden tree frog who had a scratch on its nose, plus the tiniest frog I've ever seen ever. There was a whole exchange over the name of this frog, which if I remember correctly is gria in Spanish. Grio is the word for cricket in Spanish, and there was a minute of major confusion in where I thought he was trying to be funny by telling me he wasn't holding a cricket (male) because the truth was he was about to open up his hand to reveal a cricket (female)...which in hindsight doesn't make sense because how would he know the difference between the two?

In the end, he turned out to be a nice guy who really loves frogs and his job, not a murderer...and he left us with some amazing memories.

waterfalls

Last to come was the waterfall hike. We stopped to enjoy the marvelous views at each of the five waterfalls and even went off the paved path for a little bit!

Equally as awesome as the views was the sound of all that water careening past us.

The hike wasn't too strenuous. We were interested in climbing down to each viewing platform which meant we definitely had to endure some uphill walking. The good news is LPWG has done a good job of paving their path and providing railings to hold on to throughout the hike.

The hike ends on the opposite side of the grounds, but LPWG has its stuff together and sends shuttles to pick up visitors to take them back to the main entrance.

We ended our wonderful visit to La Paz Waterfall Gardens by sitting in the lobby mooching the wifi like the millennial tourists we are. I seriously recommend this place just on the waterfall hike alone.

♥ A