The River Pacuare, the lodge and white water - our arrival

We have had a memorable time in Costa Rica, albeit way too abbreviated. We arrived in the capital city at dusk on the 23rd so really did not have much time to become acquainted with the metropolitan area. Then, on the 24th, we were up early to check out of our hotel and await the tourism van that was scheduled to meet us at our hotel at 6. We grabbed a quick breakfast at the hotel and waited for our driver who showed up around half past six. On the bus we met the driver and a guide plus one fellow from Israel and one fellow, born in Iran but of Israeli descent. We continued throughout the heart of San José and parked for a short time near a larger and more grand hotel from which four additional folks emerged. There were two young girls, both from Manhattan and a young couple who emerged and were soon situated in the van with their provisions. The young couple were  working together on a documentary on eco-tourism.  The girl was from Miami and the young man was from Los Angeles. We continued driving throughout the city in the early morning and soon were outside the busy portion and administrative center of this country and had entered a far less populated area and countryside. The city center lies at approximately 3,700 feet above sea level so we experienced cool but somewhat humid climate. Nevertheless, the air conditioning was turned on in the bus for our additional comfort.

We rode for approximately one and one-half hours through some of the most gorgeous country that we have experienced to date in Central America. There were various chains of volcanic mountainside wherever we looked and much rich, verdant vegetation. The roads for the most part were two-lane and filled with very slow-moving trucks behind which we often found ourselves. Speed limits that were posted were often less than 90 kilometers per hour (54 mph) and, for the most part the operators of the vehicles here that we observed kept well within the limits.

We continued on for another forty minutes and stopped the city of Cartoga which, up until 1823 was this country's administrative center and capital. In this city we also found the Basicila de Nuestra Señora de los Angeles. It was a remarkable structure, an image of which you can see to the left. We were of the impression that this was the only reason for our stop but we found out later that two passengers who should have been collected in San José were actually not ready when we stopped in the city but somehow we connected with them at this city. They were young and perhaps matched the ages of the two girls from Manhattan. We found out later that they were from Malmö, Sweden and we exchanged stories about our heritage and of the wonderful visits in their homeland. When we noticed them on the bus, they were fighting the effort to be asleep and finally both succumbed to slumber, their blonde heads bobbing to and fro and finally coming to rest on one shoulder or another as well as the back of the seats just ahead of them. In conversation later, John found that they had partied until five the morning that we began our journey.

We continued on for perhaps another fifty minutes, driving through lush, gorgeous mountainsides and valleys which were adorned with some of the most spectacular rain forest until we came to a curve in the mountainous road where a restaurant was located. It was set high above the valley below providing for some nice views over a river flowing in the valley, a reservoir and, during times of less cloud-cover titan volcanoes in the distance. We had time for bathroom stops here as well as our breakfast. We were served corn tortillas, a pasty type of cheese, the consistency of cream cheese but certainly not the flavor, a mound of gallopinto (rice and beans mixed), fresh fruit, orange juice and coffee and tea.

We boarded our bus again and continued yet for another hour on these windy roads with gorgeous scenery. We passed through several very small villages and towns and picked up three additional guides who would later we assisting us at the lodge and on the Pacuare river. These fellows were some of the best multi-taskers that I have ever observed in all of Latin America.

If travel on the main highways of Costa Rica seemed slow to us, you should have been with us to experience the plunge that we took in the tourism bus as we departed the hard-surface two-lane highway and turned onto a gravel ribbon that would lead us eventually catapulting to the riverfront. The operator of the van had his manual-shift transmission van in its lowest gear and the motor was holding us back to a respectable and easy pace as we twisted this diabolic and sinewy passageway. Despite the lowness of the gears, the brakes had to be applied often but we failed to notice the odor from the over-heated brake pads so he must have done the right thing. It took us about ten to fifteen minutes to reach the river where our three blue rafts were tied. We were all very anxious to exit our van and did so with dispatch. We were able to see the water which seemed to be passing us quite quickly as it flowed from higher elevations to its target in the Caribbean Sea. We could see large boulders and some rocks jutting out of the water and we would eventually be dodging these monsters. 

There was a time of orientation - a dividing, so to speak, of the sheep and the goats. You see, some of us had never been rafting before other than in the stillest of waters. But, then again, there were "experts or would-be experts" who knew all the ropes and would be providing help to most of us novices who were in need of education and assistance. We packed all of our things in water-tight packs, went to a last-minute toilet call, were divided off into groups, and then came the time to board. But, before boarding, we were fitted with life jackets and hard helmets that were fastened securely under our chins.
 

There were three guides who were there to provide for our safety, give commands and steer the rafts from the stern. One of the guides was responsible for transporting all of the luggage and other supplies that would be used during our overnight at the lodge. He had oars and sat mid-point in his raft. The raft that we were not occupying had six passengers plus the guide. Each passenger had a paddle and was instructed how to use it. There was much emphasis on how to hold the paddle, how to paddle (bending the body) and how to follow commands.

The only item that I had in my pocket was my small digital camera which I managed to use once or twice before we began our float down the river. In our raft, aside from the guide, we had only John and myself doing the paddling. Our guide told us that the water was low and because we were both fairly portly, we managed to provide quite a lump downward under where we were sitting. It would be obvious then to assume that we could often be hung up on the boulders, especially if we would fail to honor commands of the guide. Think of what it might have been had there been other passengers along with us. And, hung up we became once or twice on our entry leg to the lodge. One time we were quickly dislodged by the maneuvering of the guide and because of the force of the water seeking lower altitudes. The second time we really became impaled and the guide, after rocking backwards and forwards, jumped out onto one of the offending boulders and pushed, shoved and yanked until we finally shot free. I was very pleased that he did make it into the raft before we shot over the rocks. It may have been after this dislodging where we were completely inundated with water. Our guide had shouted "down" and we minded so were none the worse for wear and still occupants of the raft. However, remember the one item that I had in my pocket? My poor camera! I took it out and tried to dry it on the portion of my t-shirt that was tightly squeezed under my life preserver and the guide steered the raft to the shore where we tucked the camera into his water-resistant first-aid kit.

After we had been in the raft for about fifty minutes, we paddled over to shore and exited for a walk up one of the creeks that flowed into our river. The river bed was strewn with rocks that were covered with a very slippery substance which made ambulating for some members of the group quite difficult at times. None of us really did the hike in record speed. nor were we in a race for first When we had walked about two hundred yards, we reached a gorgeous pool sheltered by the rain forest canopy. Feeding this pool was a rushing fall of water about two meters in height. Without exception, everybody in the group took off anything other than the slightest coverings of our bodies and dove into the drink. What a beautiful time of refreshment for us all. The day had begun with a partial cloud-cover but the sun was shining in such that shadows were cast all about. Fortunately for all of us, we had remembered sunscreen. Now we were doing a great job of removing  what remained of that white smeary stuff from our bodies. But, it was well worth it. 

The guides summoned us again and we were traipsing over the slippery rocks once more. Nobody that I saw took a fall. We were again on our way and when one of the rafts crossed a particularly rough place, we all waited for the other two to follow. We changed positions from time to time and when passing the other raft, we were in the habit of splashing to our heart's content the occupants thereof. All except the supply raft, that is. We knew well where the bread was buttered.

The entire area in which we were passing is a preserve and we saw no evidence of private dwellings. There were three or four other lodges, or remnants of them that we passed. None, we found later, were as well equipped as the one towards which we were heading. We were told that there were tribes of indigenous living on the far reaches of the mountains that we could see. However, we did not see any evidence of their presence down at the river level. We were told that the operator and owner of the lodge where we had booked, had made arrangements with some of the indigenous folks for use of some of their lands in exchange for foods and other items, chattel and monetary.

We had passed one of the apparently abandoned properties when our guide told us that, contrary to what we had seen on the website, this was our final destination. We were not convinced though and continued paddling on our merry way. And, before long, we arrived at the beautiful Pecuare Lodge. We had paddled on our inbound stretch perhaps two hours. It was great to have arrived and now we shed ourselves of our life-preserver, helmet and our guide gave me my poor camera. I dreaded trying to turn it on as I had ween warned about water and electronics. Thanks to the precision of Sony and especially those items constructed in Japan (which this camera was), the camera snapped to life and all was functioning.

We were given a few ground rules about electricity (it was on in the lodge proper from 5 to 10 at night) and in some of the move luxurious dwellings on the property. No shoes inside the bungalows or in the common areas. No paper or other objects in the toilets. Hours for meals and supplemental trips that might be available. We were also questioned about possible dietary restrictions. The girls from Manhattan did have allergies and the couple from LA and Miami also had some restrictions as to eating. One of the Jewish men had religious restrictions but the other one does not adhere to Biblical laws as to eating certain foods or the mixing thereof.

We were treated to a large goblet of cold watermelon juice. As we stood around enjoying this treat, we were told a bit more of the property and of its buildings. There was a common area where we stored our life savers, helmets and just a muster place for comings and goings. We were told that the lodge could accommodate perhaps up to twenty-four individuals and that people were coming and going every day. Some folks opt for longer stays and there are also many who opt for one overnight as John and I did. There was also a two-story building with large patio facing the river which was open to the elements on all sides. Electricity was available at this place for the charging of iPods, telephones (though there was no wireless signal for mobiles) and laptops. I had opted to not take my laptop as I had not expected there to be wireless. I was wrong, dead wrong. Believe it or not, there was wireless supplied by microwave towers. I asked if it were satellite and was told that it was microwave. On the top floor of the eating place was a large area for seating, a fully-stocked bar and a library. In the basement there was a wine cellar and they said that one could get just about any kind of wine you might desire. We were told that lunch would be served within thirty minutes so, at that time our guides helped us tote our bags and other equipment to our respective sleeping places.

I had not realized it but John had booked us into one of the luxury rooms which had electricity twenty-four hours a day. It was a gorgeous room with two standard beds with mattresses as thick and high as those of our niece Karen in San Diego. It was pure comfort. It too was open to the elements with curtains that could be pulled if one desired a tad of privacy at one time or another. There were nets stretched from the four-poster structures that could be used for mosquitoes but we noticed no insects whatsoever other than a few sand flies that seemed to enjoy the foot of one of the guides when we initially were introduced to the river. Our room was accessed only after walking on a stone walk about fifty yards in length form the common building and it was separate and apart from the other bungalows. It was on the upper floor of a building which was shared with another suite, that one with one queen bed. There was a lovely porch with hammocks for comfort and bird watching. There were numerous trees, plants and flowers and we were surrounded by the rain forest. The sounds of birds were abundant and, while swinging on one of the two hammocks, I spied two toucans enjoying plucking seeds and flesh of a fruit tree just twenty feet away. I did not jump up for my camera because it would have spoiled the beauty of the moment. Suffice it to say, I was surprised by joy. There were virtual trees of healthy hibiscus, calla lily, banana and a myriad of other growing beauties in the area. We saw pendulum birds and their nests on the property. The pendulum bird is larger than a robin and is related to our oriole. They make nests that hang from the branches of trees and can extend downward towards the ground in lengths up to 36 inches. The pendulum bird is a gorgeous bird with bright yellow tail feathers and they were spotted several times making darts towards their nests.

I mentioned that there were several options for activities while staying in the lodge. Among them were visiting an indigenous village, horseback riding, riding the zip-lines in and above the canopy, climbing the paths, Swedish massage,  hiking to and sharing a meal with an indigenous family, etc. John and I decided to just chill and we found our elevated patio set on a level to enjoy the canopy of the flora just right down our alley. Combine that with the possibility of swinging lazily in one of the two hammocks attached to hammock hooks on the porch. That was something that we simply opted to not refuse.

As I lay there listening to the calls of the birds and seeing the toucans and pendulum birds, a looked out at the gorgeous hibiscus blossoms just two yards from my eyes. I am positive I even closed my eyes in order to check the lids for holes a time or two. I was in and out of slumber but awakened by a sound that brought back memories of childhood. As a youngster, we had tin roof on the shed on the property where we lived and during times of rains, it was almost deafening to be inside the shed. Wow, it brought back some very nostalgic memories of life after World War II when we were living in southern Alabama. Those drenching but quick rains used to come and be gone within ten to fifteen minutes. Interestingly, the rains that came continued off and on throughout the afternoon and, as you will find out in episode two, they continued on into the next day.

With this in mind, you will remember that the zip-line tour was one that several folks took that very afternoon. So, as I heard the rains pelting the roof, it was also pelting the poor participants of the zip-line tour. And, as luck might have it, I heard the zing of the wheels pass over the cable on the final line coming back into our camping area. At first I was startled about the sound and it seemed so incongruous because of its mechanical nature. Yet, I wondered what sort of beast or bird might be emanating such a noise. Poor folks, they paid to be uncomfortable in the rain. We observed from the comfort of our hammocks and under a roof whose eaves extended a good meter on all sides. Certainly more than enough to keep us dry even in a gale.

In the next segment I will tell a bit about our night at the lodge, eating the delicious gourmet foods prepared by our guides and other staff on location. Meeting other guests who had already been there and becoming more acquainted with our guides, members of our own group and the staff.

(We have arrived in Panamá. I have still neither downloaded my photos from the Pecuare River experience nor have I included them in this narrative. Please do not give up hope. I will add them after I have completed the blog for our trip out - the second day.)