B&B Cielito Sur

Our time at this wee hostel in these gorgeous mountains in New Switzerland is coming to an end. We are occupying one of four dwellings on this coffee plantation or finca. Also living here are the owners of this property, the husband of at least partial Chinese descent and the wife who was born here in Panama of a North American set of parents. The wife's mother lives in one of the homes on the finca and is in her 91st year. She was born in Alvin, Texas but she and her husband decided to try Panama for six years and then probably go to Alaska. Instead of doing the move, they decided to stay here for the rest of their lives. So, this wee B&B was at one time was vested in the names of the parents of Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Lee prepares breakfast for us each morning and, I have to be honest, they are some of the best delights that we have had for breakfast in Central America. Through their coffee finca runs a beautiful stream whose sounds we can hear day and night. There are flowers growing throughout the property and from this stock comes bouquets for our room as well as each table in the breakfast room. Breakfast is served from half past seven to half past nine and there are always two choices for main dish which changes each morning. Additionally, there are four or five types of bread, jams, four types of cheeses, jellies, peanut butter and cream cheese available next to the toaster. There is always fresh fruit, some cut up and some, like bananas, in their peel. There are cereals and granola on the buffet as well as two or three types of fresh juices. Coffee from their own finca as well as tea and chocolate are provided along with milk and yogurt. Water comes from springs and is potable here from the pipes.

Our rooms have high-speed Internet available and we do have TV and many DVD movies which are available for viewing. There are puzzles, books, games and many other activities available here. The owners have directed us to a couple of national parks as well as a private dwelling on which was discovered pre-Colombian artifacts and petroglyphs. The National Geographic featured this finca in its February 1950 issue and a copy of some of its pages were displayed at this site.

There is bird watching available here and one can view over 8 different types of humming birds come to two feeders that are placed within view of all diners at breakfast. They are unafraid of us and are not bothered by our movement. There are tiny ones and some about half the size of the robin. They come in all hues.

There are indigenous folks living amongst the Panamanians who still wear very colorful dresses. They resemble mumus and the adult as well as the children are so adorned. The men follow the western style of dress but some of the males do wear a woven straw hat that tends to set them apart.

There are Chinese shop owners or operators here in the small villages where we have gone for snacks, sodas and milk. The still speak Chinese to their little ones but manage a haltering Spanish with the villagers. The US dollar is the currency here in Panama and when one gives bills and there is change, we do get Panamanian hard currency in change instead of pennies, nickles, dimes and quarters.

The first day of arrival, we drove about five or ten miles until the road came to an end. It assisted us in our climb to Las Nubes (the clouds). At the end of the road was a national park but the gates were closed tightly. Our inn keepers told us that one would need to arrive before three in the afternoon to ensure entry. Chalk that one off the list! We have been told that the national bird of Guatemala (which is very scarce in that country) can be viewed here in Panama. Some occupants of the room adjacent to ours reported seeing an adult male with all its plumage and a juvenile on their walk-about earlier this week. I asked if they would share an image that they had taken and it was not good enough quality to even know that there was a fowl in the image, let alone a Quetzal. So, I passed on that one too.

On Sunday we rose early and had breakfast. I had eggs Florentine and ham plus all the goodies described above. John enjoyed French toast alone this morning plus many of the objects from the buffet. I asked the innkeeper wife about the possibilities for church this morning and she told me that the nearest one was a Seventh Day Adventist church. I told her it was a bit late for this week and we would already be back in Guatemala for next week. She told me there was Catholic and, she thought Methodist. I opted to not go this week. Instead, John mapped out a nice trip down to David and then up in the mountains again but, in a different direction. It was a much more heavily populated town where there was a jazz festival on the town square. Pity them as it was raining today. But, that neither hindered us nor those seeking to nod or tap their heels or toes. We all came. This area is heavily into agriculture with coffee fincas abounding. There were coffee trees laden with blossoms as well as red and green cherries. But, after we had driven several miles around the town, we decided to take our midday meal. John had read about a famous restaurant that had been visited by Teddy Roosevelt, Garbo and many other names you might recognize. It was in the midst of this town and just about four or five blocks from the town square where we had heard and seen the combo players in action.

We entered this old dowager and found our seats next to an open window. There were only two others dining at this time (12:30). We would soon be in for a regal treat. We were given menus and cold water poured in glasses. Next came a large portion of butter for each of us and two types of freshly baked bread. Then we ordered: John a piece of steak with garlic mashed potatoes and I, a piece of pig accompanied by a stack of dirty rice in which had been incorporated minced bell peppers of varying colors and onions. My pork chop was over an inch in thickness and very moist. We started our meal though with a bowl of onion soup.

John made a comment only after he saw and began to sample his delightful meal. He said (and I agreed) that had we had only the onion soup, we would have given it perhaps a 6 or 7 out of a possible 10 but when the entree or plato fuerte arrived, that 6 or 7 dimmed and we both gave a resounding 9 or 10 to the entire presentation. We had both seen that there were postres (desserts) on the menu but neither one of us had a speck of room after we had consumed our food up until that time. But, we tarried. And, the longer that we sat, the more tempting became the notion to at least look at the menu once again, just to make sure!

We needn't have asked because the waiter came to our table with menu in hand. Can you imagine? And, it took us no longer than two minutes to concur that two pieces of lemon meringue pie needed to be removed from their inventory. That together with coffee for John and black tea for me finished out a remarkable repast. We agreed that the vittles were more than good, they were superb.

But, to be honest, even though there are tons of ex-pats at this location, we longed to return to New Switzerland where the scenery is superior and there are far fewer folks. The area we visited is handy to goods and services but one is removed from the utmost beauty of nature...the calmness and the stillness. And, a place where you can be alone, together with yourself.

We decided to take our leave and drove the approximately 34 kilometers to David where we had spied a super market. John needed an eraser for his Sudoku puzzles and he was almost out of deodorant. He picked them up and we were on our way again. From the parking lot of the super market, we turned onto the Panamerican Highway and drove about 40 kilometers to our turnoff up into the hills and to the town of Volcan. We reached Volcan and purchased a quart of milk for our cold cereal tonight and then turned right onto our road to New Switzerland. Another 10 kilometers and we turned into the coffee finca and Cielito Sur.

Tomorrow we will be having breakfast and, after a drive down to David's airport, we will turn in our car and board our flight to Panama City at around 1:15 in the afternoon.

From San José, Costa Rica to David, Panamá

We awakened in the comfort of our hotel Parque del Lago near the heart of the capital city. We got up, showered and packed out belongings for the last time in Costa Rica. Then we headed down to the restaurant to have our buffet breakfast. They do become rather hum-drum and offer very few surprises, especially when one has been having hotel breakfasts for weeks. But, the fresh fruit is a treat and, from time to time there are waffles or pancakes which are nice. Other than that, the surprise is that there is no surprise. When we finished eating, I stopped by the desk and told the fellow working there that we needed a taxi to the airport. There are city buses that run for a fraction of the tariff that we would be paying to the taxi driver but we did have a couple of hand pieces of luggage and figured it would be easier than trying to do the approximately 30 minute trip with riders in the public buses. I ran across the street and obtained 30,000 Colones which if exchanged for dollars would convert at the rate of 550 to one.

The driver was there at 8:30 sharp and we hopped into the cab and were taken quickly to the airport. Most of the traffic was headed into the city and we were going the opposite direction. The airport is situated at the end of the road so there is little need for a map or GPS unit once one finds the road. We unloaded at the International section of the airport, John paid the driver and we were ready to check in for our flight.

We entered the terminal which was new, organized and clean. We did not share the terminal space with an abundance of folks this morning and, after asking one person, found our AirPanama check-in place. Two men were going through our suitcases and backpacks in a most cursory manner. When completed, they attached the two zipper ends together with a plastic tie and asked us if we had paid our tax. John was of the impression that it might have been included in our ticket purchase price so went to the front desk to inquire. He was told that it was not included so we went to the tax desk where we lined up to finish that task. When we approached, we were told that we could pay in Colones, US dollars or credit or debit cards. If we opted to pay with credit cards, the Costa Rican government would take the money from our accounts in the form of a cash advance. We opted for a debit card because there would be no additional interest charges extracted by our credit card company. The cost for us combined was USD52. I realize that these costs seem steep to those of you who travel mostly in the US but you must remember that when you look at the base fares in the US, they are minuscule compared with the fare you pay when you finally get these taxes added in. For instance, a fare of USD78 round-trip between Phoenix and Chicago suddenly becomes USD158 when the airport taxes, security fees and other charges are combined. We are just not used to paying these fees apart as we often do in other countries.

Once having paid these fees, we passed quickly to the desk of the airline company itself and were given our boarding passes and we also deposited our checked baggage. Then, very quickly through security and into the duty free shopping areas and our eventual waiting area for gate 16. The terminal, as many here in Central America, provided for Wi-Fi gratis so John and I were able to catch up on the news and monitor our bank and credit card accounts. We were at a gate where it was necessary to exit the door on ground level and board a bus which would take us to our waiting plane. Our plane was inbound from David, Panamá and would be turning around to take us back there. We were scheduled to board at 10:45 but it was apparent that there was a delay since there was no stir at the boarding door even after 11:00 that morning. Finally, at around 11:15 there was an announcement first in Spanish and then in very broken English concerning our need to find the door for our exit. We did so and joined perhaps fifteen others on the bus. After a drive of about five minutes, we reached what appeared to me a Fairchild 17 aircraft. The same type as Howard Hughes AirWest used to operate in the western part of the USA. A high-wing plane with the belly extending as a pendulum below with two prop engines. When we boarded, John and I both got front seats and the others found their seats behind us. I looked at the safety card and found that this aircraft was a Dash300. Could have fooled me!

We had about fifty minutes of flying before landing at our destination. During our flight we had a choice of crackers, maybe raisins and a sticky-sweet candy bar together with juices, coffee or tea.

We landed at a very small airport in the western portion of Panamá very near the frontier with Costa Rica and exited the plane and finally entered the terminal. The temperatures were high and the humidity far higher. It was uncomfortable on the tarmac and far more uncomfortable in the stale and unconditioned air inside the terminal. Other than one girl, the two of us were first in line for immigration and customs. We waited for perhaps ten minutes as the one person doing immigration was finishing a telephone conversation. When he did terminate the call, he worked madly trying to sign onto the computer. This took several tries but finally he did manage to connect. He cleared the girl then both of us. He was friendly but just not rushed or in any hurry. We had a good chat, he and I and I even got a nice smile from him. We then walked over and claimed our bags and put them up on a table. The girl had chosen the other table and they were doing a once-over on her bag. She was cleared and we thought the inspector would come over to do ours but, no. He did somebody else. So, we moved our bags over to the other table. He first looked at my bag then asked me to open my backpack. I did and he inspected and passed me through to the terminal area. Then he took leave and left everybody standing. John waited and in about five minutes, he reappeared and John was also cleared.

We checked with Aeroperlas, our next airline for our connecting information on the 1st of March and got confirmation papers. Then we exited the terminal and walked across to Alamo where our wonderful Toyota was awaiting our arrival. We did the paper work and the clerk explained that there was mandatory insurance required in Panamá. We agreed and, with contract in hand, went out the door, jumped into our clean, unblemished car and sped off. John had all of our directions in hand and we followed them for about ten minutes. He told me there was a McDonald's and, without hesitation, we stopped and we both enjoyed our lunch. After that, we continued approximately one hour to our destination for the next three nights in the mountains in the hamlet of New Switzerland. We would be in the mountains, experiencing cool, gorgeous weather and we would be surrounded by absolutely stunning scenery. No more hot and humid here!

Our night at Pacuare Lodge and our departure

We were told in our orientation that lunch on our arrival day would be served approximately thirty minutes after our arrival with dinner to follow  in the evening at 7. During our lunch we were asked about choices of starter, main and dessert. I selected a Delmonico steak prepared medium. As I mentioned previously, our guides who had led us faithfully and safely to our destination were now working in the kitchen and at our tables. The food was delicious, nourishing, fresh, colorful and extremely appetizing to all of us and it did have a gourmet flair, no kidding. Coffee and tea were available to us in the common area at all times during our stay. We used water from the area which they assured us was tested monthly and found to be free of contaminants and microbes and perfectly potable. When I questioned whether or not it originated from springs, I was told that it was pure, mountain water. I then further questioned whether or not the indigenous folks had cattle or animals above the source and was told that they just did not frequent that area. So, we drank the water and two days after my intestines and stomach are neither back-talking nor rumbling with complaints. I suspect like one of Don's and Nance's landlords said, "we've been drinking it all these years and have never gotten sick" might also apply to the lodge on Pacuare river.

John and I hopped tables, first sitting with the Israelis then with some of the other guests who had not come in our original covey of humanity. Then, on the last day, we had opportunity to visit with some folks from Washington state and also some others from Montana. It was delightful to exchange stories and experiences with all of these folks. I know that we gained immensely and I trust that the others acquired something in return.

After supper we went upstairs which was illuminated by candles throughout the large expanse. There were some (mostly our age, more or less) who were attempting to ready by candle light but found the light inadequate. Those folks employed their flashlights which were supplied to all of us in order to find our way to and from the common area during the dark hours of the night. Both before and after dinner some of the group sat in a semi-circle on bar stools facing two of our multi-tasking guides as they went about tending the bar. It seemed to be a happy exchange between and among the participants and the guides seemed both honestly and happily engaged.

We asked one of the guides named Max how long he had worked for Pacuare and he told us that he had been in their employ for fourteen years. Max was one of the guides who knew all of our names and used them without faltering. He was confident and seemed to sense our needs. When we heard of his extended tenure, I asked if he were one of the oldest in terms of service there. He told us that there were others with more time. He added that his father had also worked for the lodge and had very enjoyed his tenure. Pecuare Lodge has existed and done these types of eco-tours for twenty-four years.

Before long the couples began to dwindle and, seeing absolutely no need to outlast all of the group, we took our leave and headed for our bungalow. The rains had subsided by now even though they had continued after the afternoon shower a time or two. But, when we opened all of our curtains for the night entrance of cool night air, we noticed a flashing of light. It was that of lightning bugs sparking here and there. The beds were clothed in both a blanket and bedspread aside from the sheets, all of which were discarded at least at the beginning of the night. During the night I managed to slip below the sheet and then the light blanket. The dampness of our surroundings had created a less than dry condition for our bed linens. It reminded me of what we might experience in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas and of southern Alabama when, as kids, we had neither air conditioning nor fans to provide dryness or comfort within our dwellings. But soon we forgot even of this slight discomfort and were sleeping.

Though John did not recall it, I began to hear the rumble of thunder and the flashes of lightning. Then, the rains began in earnest. What a treat and a natural sedative sure to please coupled with the comforting sound of  the roar of rain on the overhead covering. Soon it was dripping down all four sides. I cannot tell you how long the showers lasted because they, like the artificial elixirs that so many folks with insomnia take, removed me from consciousness quickly and soundly.

We awakened and greeted the dawn with joy and gladness. John hit the shower and I passed since I had been ducked, splashed and sprinkled in the raft. What's more, I had been completely submerged in the "pure, mountain waters" coming down and emptying in the wee pond just below the water flow on our way into the lodge. When John was finished, we walked to the commons and, while waiting for breakfast, had coffee and tea. The breakfast buffet was quickly ready and my plate was filled with fresh fruit, french toast and scrambled eggs. I had orange juice and Lady Grey tea to finish out my morning's breaking of fast. Our morning repast time was at 8 and our scheduled departure was at 10.

The rains continued throughout the morning until much of the ground was soaked and some of the walkways were covered with the runoff. All of us noticed that the river's hue had changed. It had been altered with the advent of the rains from what appeared to us a greenish blue to a reddish brown. And, the places where the boulders once had been apparent were now either gone completely or just a fraction of their original size. And, the speed of the current had increased visibly. Our rafts were still securely moored and tied with long ropes to trees some twenty yards up from the river's edge.

One by one the couples meandered from their bungalows or suites to the central muster point with their packed bags. Four of our group opted to remain a bit longer, having planned activities and another night or two at the lodge. But our two new-found friends from Olympia, Washington were going to join us on our way out. The guides were scurrying with their last-minute duties and helping us stuff the water-resistant (not proof as we later found) bags full of our items that we wanted protected from the river's water as well as the pounding rains that had continued steadily from before breakfast. Little by little, all of our belongings were stowed and carried down on a hand truck to the provisions raft. We donned our lift jackets and helmets and headed, gave our thanks to the help and said our good-byes to those remaining and walked the fifty yards in the heavy rains to the river's edge. This morning we had some additional guides who would be accompanying us in kayaks. Additionally, there were two kayakers who would be following our processing yet stopping from time to time at some of our difficult spots in order to record the whole episode or a portion thereof on memory cards. But, the occupants of the other two kayaks were there for our safety. It seems that just the day before an entire raft had flipped and all of the occupants were thrown into the drink. The guides in the kayaks explained to us the exact procedure for retrieval should we suffer such a fate. This was sounding more interesting by the minute! We had no such flotilla on our in-bound segment. As we began to board our rafts, four were in the sister raft and they were the Israelis and the eco-production duo and in our raft were the couple from Washington and John and me. We had the same guides as our inbound leg and ours was Randall. One note worthy of attention here...somebody, I cannot recall from whom the question came, asked me if I thought it was safe wearing my glasses. Do you suppose this was an omen of things to come?

Randall explained to us that on the day before the waters had been exceptionally low and were flowing considerably slower but today it was a different story completely. He explained to us that we would be passing rapids that would be considered and classified as Cat. III, IV and, quite possibly even V. As we started out, we did some practices with the heave ho, etc. and I could not feel any problems in my arms or shoulders. We let the front two from Washington set the cadence and we followed suit. It was obvious to us after the first crossing of the rapids that we in the middle of the raft were in preferential positions. Though we got a complete spray of the waters nearly every time, those in the front were showered with a blast of the angry, brown liquid without fail. But, after the first one, we at least knew what to expect. Somehow or another, I had glanced back to the stern and I could hardly believe what I saw...if I was not complete mistaken, I viewed Randall making the sign of the cross! The raft leaped high into the air, reacting to the force of those rapids and, those of us who had been catapulted, tried in vain to paddle the water but ended up taking a swing into the air instead. Never mind for we quickly were plunked down onto the surface of the waters again. We were given the command "get down" several times during the course of the outbound segment at which times we hit the deck and held onto our paddle as well as the ropes running around the outside surface of the raft. We did manage each time, one new set or rapids seemingly trying to outdo the one we had just successfully passed. And yes, we high-fived our paddles with each passing. The kayaks continued to crisscross our paths and were gliding like eels around about us. Their presence was very reassuring. We noticed also the two kayaks and their occupants pointing their cameras in our directions, especially when we were in the process of passing a rapids or just completing one.

Our actual departure time from the lodge was more like 10:30 a.m. When we had traveled about one-half of our way to our final destination, we pulled into the side of the river. At this point, the river had broadened and there were brown sand patches onto which we pulled our rafts. Bear in mind that the rains continued relentlessly throughout our entire exit journey. Immediately upon reaching shore, one part of the eco-production tour ran for the side of the river, just above the flow, squatted and created a flow all of her own. She did not even have the protection of a fig leaf. But, when one is desperate, one takes matters into one's own hand. Others of us were a bit more modest and found a bush or shrub to shield our indiscretions. This was to be our lunch break even though we had been fed a substantial breakfast at the lodge. We took a steep path up the bank and found a palapa (grass covered shack, open on all sides). From the provisions raft the guides carried up the makings for what was soon to be stowed in our bellies. We had pasta, pulled chicken, bread and a wonderful salad. For dessert we had  a large selection of freshly cut fruit such as watermelon, cantaloupe, papaya and pineapple together with some coconut candy with iced tea. Not surprisingly, the guides again took the challenge and acted as chief cooks and bottle washers. The small enclosure was the property of indigenous tribe members with whom the Pacuare Lodge owner and operator had made a prior agreement for its use. There are monetary rewards for the owners of the property as well as all of the food stuffs that were uneaten. At the site were two resident pups who wandered from one person to another begging for morsels of food. They quickly snapped up each offering, sometimes before they reached the ground. Just above the palapa was another smaller enclosure also open at all sides with a table suitable for eating. The roof was thatched and did not provide water-tight seals so the top of the table was somewhat moist. But, who cares? The guides cleaned up all of our mess and repacked the plates, glasses and silverware. The left-overs remained and would be collected and consumed in the afternoon when we would already be long on our way.

The guides announced that it was time to pull the pin so we climbed down the fifty steps to the river once again. But, this time the river had risen noticeably and, where we had once stepped on semi-dry sand, there was not water. 

We continued on for another hour or so and finally reached our point of exit from the river. The river was flowing about twenty-five feet below the wee village where we terminated our rafting trip. Up with our paddles, life jackets, my glasses and helmets to the top and into a warehouse where we deposited our equipment and received a dry, fluffy towel. It felt wonderful to sop some of the moisture off our out bodies. Then we collected our bags (some of the contents of some of the bags were not fully dry). Mine was just fine...no leaks whatsoever. Then across the street to showers, changing rooms and another mini-buffet set up for us. Also here we noticed that the two kayak photographers had laptops and were displaying the images from our trip. There were about one-hundred fifty photos of each raft and they looked quite impressive. When I found the cost, I was disinterested in acquiring a copy. However, our friends from Washington did purchase a copy and have told us they would attempt to make a copy of their images and make it available to us. We will share their initial expense of USD40.

Then, in the midst of a downpour, we tucked our wet things into large plastic bags and stowed them and us on a tourism van headed for San Jose and our hotel. The ride back to the city was done in far less time than our transport out and it seemed to us that the roads had improved. It is highly possible that we took different routes coming and returning. We made it back to the capital and to our hotel by around five in the afternoon. The past two days were a true pleasure and tons of fun. But, it was also a pleasure to reach our hotel. We hung the wet items in our air-conditioned room and hoped that they would dry in time for us to pack up the next day for our flight to Panama.

John and I were both fatigued and had no intention of doing anything strenuous that evening. We had spied a McDonald's just one block distant from the hotel so walked over and fed our faces and returned. Bed was my only friend at that point and I had absolutely no argument regarding bedtime. I knew nothing of the night. Sleep, what a wonderful gift. Tomorrow we will be taking a taxi to the San Jose airport for our flight to David, Panama.  

(I will be including images within this narrative at a later date.)

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.)

We arrived San José, Costa Rica

This will be short and sweet but want you folks to know that we arrived in this beautiful, clean capital city around five in the afternoon, right in the midst of rush hour.

Our flight on Copa took just over forty-eight minutes. It was long enough in duration for the flight attendants to pass through the cabin with sodas, juices and liquors on one pass. And, those who imbibed on the strong drinks were given them gratis. 

Flight 115 operated on time and the aircraft used was a Boeing 737-700. Over one-half of the seats were unfilled so we were able to spread out for additional comfort. Flight announcements were mostly pre-recorded and given in English and in Spanish. The movie which was playing on the screens regarding flight safety had the English narrative with English subtitles but the Spanish narrative was given with Portuguese subtitles. Cover all bases I would suspect.

Upon leaving Managua International airport, the departure tax of USD35 was added to the price of each of our tickets so we did not have to front that amount on the day of our leaving. That was a nice surprise. And, despite our riding in the main cabin, our attendant had marked our bags as priority so we were able to retrieve them almost immediately after having landed.

The Managua airport, while not a beauty on the outside, is a gorgeous structure within. It is clean, well-maintained and one can pass easily and quickly through both the immigration and customs gates. It is a pleasure to pass through that airport. The same can be said about the airport here in Costa Rica.

When we had collected our bags, we went speedily through the formalities of entering another country and were soon outside of the secure area. We had not arranged for transfers from the airport so we hopped into a cab after paying USD24 and were in the mire of rush hour in the capital city. It took us approximately thirty-five minutes to arrive at our hotel, Parque del Lago. We checked in with the help of Freddie who made us feel like we were wanted here. A very happy lad who was more than helpful.

When we opened the door to our room, we found a solo queen bed. We had requested a room with two beds so I hurried down to the reception and made the change. It was done with a smile and this time we were up on the top floor with a gorgeous view of the surrounding volcanic mountains. 

This city is set at about 3,750 feet above sea level so the temperatures and climate are more comfortable for us. Quite a contrast from Managua and Granada where the temperatures and the humidity were in the higher ranges. Also, in this city, we were told that the water from the taps is completely potable without repercussions from the intestines and stomach. Nice to be able to brush one's teeth without using bottled water as we have done in all of the other Central American countries that we have visited to date.

Our pick-up here at the hotel for our next adventure is at 6 this morning which should come within about 45 minutes so I need to abbreviate this note and try to fill in after we return to this very hotel in one day. In the interim, we will be rafting and at an Eco-lodge in the wilderness. I promise to take pictures and keep notes so you can come along with us on our fun.

Have a good day everybody.

To Managua and the airport - está perdido hombre...

We departed Granada after having said good-bye to our friends. The trip went well except for a premature turn. Instead of tarrying a bit farther on our way, I cut a right turn in the direction (I thought) of Tipitapa. After having driven about two kilometers on very curvy and narrow roads, I asked John if he thought I might not ask about directions. I spied a young lad on his bicycle riding in the opposite direction and asked him: "¿Va este camino en la dirección de Tipitapa?" El dijo, "no, estas perdido hombre" No, you are lost man. Well, I was glad that I asked and I was also more happy that he told me I was lost and what I could do to correct my error. We had only gone minutes out of our way so it was not a grave mishap and it did give me an opportunity to use what little Castellano that I do have under my belt as well as the chance to listen to my corrective instructions.

Again on the correct camino, we continued a bit further until we reached the fork in the road where we turned and continued about twenty-two kilometers to Tipitapa where we again turned sharply to the left for another eight kilometers. Then a roundel or round-about with a turn to the left and we passed by the airport.

John was interested in seeking out the Best Western hotel which we found directly across from the International Airport of Managua. We had met the Gerente General at the Masaya Volcano just days before and, since we visited with him and he gave us his card, we thought it only fair to visit his establishment. We are here for the day. And, we will leave a note of thanks to Roberto Cruz Sequeira when we depart later today.

But, as John checked into the room, it was time for me to take the Toyota back to the airport. Upon check-out at the Hertz counter, we inherited for these past few days a car that was terribly pocked, scratched and dented. We were super careful to note each and every exception on its body before we agreed to leave the airport. Honestly there were so many items that were wrong with the car (including lights and mirror covers), I thought that we should have named the establishment RENT-A-DENT.

I asked the hotel folks where the nearest gasoline station was and was soon on my way for a filling of petrol. The equivalent of USD17 was funneled into the tank and I was soon off to find a turn-around on the four-lane divided highway. I found the first one and shot ahead of on-coming traffic directly into the entrance to the airport. To the check-in folks where they gave me a pass GO and provided a paper saying that we had encountered nothing further along the way other than a full tank of gas. We paid the equivalent of USD113 for the three-day rental.

As I exited the airport, taxi drivers were very much wanting my fares but I told them that these legs would take me across the street to the Las Mercedes Best Western Hotel. They said, maybe this afternoon or tomorrow. I told them our flight was this afternoon at half past three and we would be walking to the terminal, a distance of approximately 150 paces.

So, I will be in touch with you again when we arrive in Costa Rica.

Day three in Granada, Nicaragua

We began the day early this morning with a trip down to the breakfast room and pool. There are several tables in the breakfast room but, when occupied fully, one can opt to sit around the pool where several additional tables are located.

It was time for a shower this morning so I did that and John went down to have some coffee and juice. I joined him after my shower and enjoyed a couple of pots of tea with my juice. We visited with a fellow who was here with his family and mother for a little rest and relaxation in Nicaragua. He and his wife had decided to quit their jobs in Canada and take a year away with their children in Costa Rica. They are about six months into their year abroad and their three girls had a break from school during this time so they took the trip up here. We found that they had planned to take the boat launch tour this morning and, since John and I were also interested in such a tour, we booked at the front desk of the hotel also.

Before we departed on the tour, John and I went next door to the Euro Cafe and had breakfast. I had an egg panini and John had a bagel with cream cheese and finished off with a piece of guava strudel. We purchased some biscotti for a little snack on our boat trip and were ready to meet our tour guide  pictured to the right (the same fellow who had taken us yesterday) on the short ride to the docks of the launches on Lake Nicaragua. We were sufficient in numbers to cause our guide to take two trips. We were the family from Alberta, Canada and two couples from West Virginia.

We were in a launch propelled by a 25-horse Johnson motor. It had canvas covering all of our seats which were placed on each sides of the boat. In all, there may have been a total of sixteen seats plus the place for the operator of the Johnson.

A volcanic chain cuts right through Lake Nicaragua, and this has resulted in the creation of many beautiful islands and groups of islets.

The group of islets nearest our city are named the Granada Islets (isletas de Granada in Spanish). Most likely formed by volcanic activity of the nearby Mombacho Volcano, the 365 islets vary significantly in size and are one of Granada’s principal attractions. They are located around the long, narrow Asese peninsula. A whole community lives on the islands, and boats obviously form the most important transportation method as houses, schools, and shops are spread out over many different islets. Some islets feature hotels or restaurants, and luxurious vacation houses on a private islet are also seen more and more often. The main activity at the islets is to rent a boat and take a tour among the Granada islets. Enjoying the tropical sun while cruising around palm-covered islets and observing spectacular views and beautiful birds and playful and friendly monkeys is definitely a great holiday activity. Although electricity had not been available until not many decades ago, most of the islands we observed were connected to the grid.

So, away we go. The center of Granada lies just about fifteen blocks from the shore of Lake Nicaragua so the trip to the shore took only a matter of minutes. Then, we followed the shoreline about five or ten minutes until we reached an impasse coincident with the docks for the launches. Since we came in the first of two loads in the tourism van, we were deposited in the care of our pilot for the day (who stands ready for the assault in the picture above) and also the vendors who were busy attempting to entice some of us with necklaces and cashew nuts. The vendors here seem never to have change for larger bills so they did miss sales from some of us who would otherwise have been stuffing our snouts with these treats (even though they were unsalted).

Soon the second load of visitors arrived and we all piled into the launch. We began our trip slowly and the smells of the Johnson were very apparent. Though one would not have to smell only because there was a cloud of oil-rich blue exhaust wafting next to our nostrils.

We headed out and soon saw one of the versions of wash machine. Various versions of fact and fiction abound about the cleanliness of the waters of this body of water. The guide assured us that he eats fish taken from this lake on a regular basis and that he often swam in the murky waters. He did add that he would never drink the water.

When I questioned about the water source of Granada, he informed me that the city obtained its drinking water from deep wells.

I think it sufficed and I did not pursue where the sewage of the city was deposited. Enough is enough and I do not even want to know what was wallowing around in the waters in which several young Nicaraguans were swimming and frolicking.

We continued on and observed several different species of birds. Fortunately for you, you will not have to suffer through a myriad of fowl pictures as I do not have neither a sophisticated camera nor a matching high-priced lens. So, just take my word for it, there were several types of birds of differing hues.

We passed by several islands which, in some cases, we saw signs offering the land for sale. Our guide indicated to us that about eight years ago, there seemed to be no purchasers available to grab up this now-valuable real estate. Not the case now as very high price tags are attached to these properties. They are secluded, have electrical power and offer the gift of privacy.

We saw trees laden with mangoes and other fruits and also several trees full of gorgeous blossoms of yellows and oranges. We stopped for a moment for the operator of the launch to pick a long spear on a tree that appeared to be a skinny piece of asparagus. He twisted this and the outer shell opened to display a beautiful flower.

On we continued and came to the shore of an island inhabited by spider monkeys. They seems a bit larger than their brothers that I have seen in the San Diego Zoo. I would say that they might be about twenty-four inches if they were standing erect. Our operator came close enough for one of the monkeys that he called Lucy to leap onto the launch. From there Lucy went about discovering what morsels each of us might have and found quickly the folks who had succumbed to the cashew girls. But, Lucy had apparently had sufficient vittles because she just lay there on the bottom of the launch and finally leaped up into the lap of one of the passengers. This did not go on very long though as another launch approached and our operator provided a safe distance for Lucy to leap to the other boat where, it appeared the food or portions were more delectable or generous. Lucy found a ready and willing participant and jumped up onto the lap of a lady and laid her head on her shoulder similar to what we would observe from an infant.

Then we continued on and our operator discovered the male and female of a water lily. Around this same area there were nests similar to the oriels in the USA. Long nests hanging from the trees that resembled pendulums which extended for at least one to two meters in length. The beautiful birds that inhabited those dwellings were gorgeous large birds with yellow tails and flew somewhat like the swallows that we have observed in the USA.

We are departing this lovely part of Nicaragua on the 23rd. We will load our rental car which has been parked adjacent to our hotel in the street. Interestingly, when I went out to move the car two days ago, the outside mirror on the driver's side had been folded in towards the window. You see, the streets are very narrow and somebody was looking our for me. Rather that than have to arrange for settlement through American Express!

We have about fifty minutes of driving to Managua on the 23rd and we need to check our car into the Hertz lot at the airport by ten in the morning. Since our flight to San Jose, Costa Rica departs at half past four in the afternoon, we will stash our bags somewhere in the airport and hopefully catch a city bus into the capital.

Pictured to the right is the street view on the side lateral of the central park. One-half block ahead in the image you can see flags flying on the front of our hotel. Our rental card is the third vehicle (the first is the horse cart) in front of our hotel.

For those of you old enough to remember the reclusive Howard Hughes, you may recall that he leased the entire floor of a luxury hotel here in Nicaragua (in fact in Managua) where he spent some time. John reminded me that he kept all of his spent urine in vials here. A funny quirk and funnier still that he should have remembered that!

So, the next post will be from San Jose, I hope!!

Day two in Nicaragua - to Masaya Volcano and Market

We had made arrangements yesterday for a six-hour tour which, we were told, would include a trip to Nicaragua's first national park featuring the Masaya Volcano, the craft market in the town of Masaya, a trip to the Mirador Catarina, a pass through the Pueblos Blancos and, our final stop, the village of San Juan where we viewed some fantastic pottery featuring pre-Colombian designs.

We met our guide at 9 this morning and were soon in the tourism van parked just outside our hotel door. Our guide had long blonde hair which was pulled back and tied up on the back of his head. He spoke Spanish initially but switched to very understandable English. When we were under way, I asked him if he lived in Nicaragua and he told us that he did. He did say that he had a French passport (EU). I asked him how he went about getting that and he told us that his dad was from France and his mom was from Costa Rica. He said that he had grown up in Costa Rica but felt he needed a change so came to Nicaragua to involve himself in tourism. I asked him if it were difficult to get work papers in this country and he responded that nobody ever checks about things like that.

We drove about forty minutes and arrived at Masaya National Park. He paid our entrance fee and we drove perhaps five miles to the rim of the caldera. We had three options to us for viewing this marvelous sight. We joined perhaps ten or fifteen vehicles, all parked as instructed (backed into the spaces). In 2001

In 1979, Masaya became Nicaragua's first National Park, named Masaya Volcano National Park (Parque Nacional Volcan Masaya). The National Park has an area of 54 square meters includes two volcanoes and five craters, as well as a range of elevations between 100 and 630 meters above sea level. It is the only volcano in the western hemisphere where one can drive to the rim. In the park is an underground tunnel which was formed by lava flows, one can find bats and look inside and observe the glowing lava in the dark crater mouth of the volcano.

Masaya continually emits large amounts of sulfur dioxide gas (from the active Santiago crater) and volcanologists study this (and other signs) to better understand the behavior of the volcano and also evaluate the impact of acid rain and the potential for health problems.

Although the recent activity of Masaya has largely been dominated by continuous degassing from an occasionally lava-filled pit crater, a number of discrete explosive events have occurred in the last 50 years. One such event occurred on November 22, 1999, which was recognized from satellite data. A hot spot appeared on satellite imagery, and there was a possible explosion. On April 23, 2001 the crater exploded and formed a new vent in the bottom of the crater. The explosion sent rocks with diameters up to 60 cm which traveled up to 500 m from the crater. Vehicles in the visitors area were damaged and one person was injured. On October 4, 2003 an eruption cloud was reported at Masaya. The plume rose to a height of ~4.6 km.

In addition to being warned to back the vehicle into the parking spaces, we were also warned to spend no more than twenty minutes in the area. 

When our allotted time was up, we went over to a small stand and bought a couple of sodas and were soon in the van descending to the entrance and visitor center for the park. 

It was only a matter of a handful of kilometers that were driven for us to arrive at the Masaya market located in the city of the same name. 

Our guide assured us that, other than for the market (which was touted as the best market in all of Central America), the town itself was not set up for tourism. It was very evident to us as we walked about after visiting the market and it was unspectacular in all aspects save the central park with its gazebo. Adjacent to and sitting on the perimeter of the park was the colonial-style church in which we sat and relaxed for a few minutes.

To us, the market held very little appeal. I must add that the residents of the two towns where we have spent the most time are genuinely friendly and extremely helpful. Many of the clerks in hotels and shops do speak English but it is a very easy place for visiting and looking about. There is a good sense of security here and, especially in Granada, the area around central park and the main street passing by the cathedral are full of tourists and well lighted.

In both Masaya and in Granada, horses or ponies are used to pull carts around. These carts are used to transport people and cargo.

Because of the livestock passing through the city streets, there is also the presence of droppings and puddles of spent urine. You can only imagine the odors that are omnipresent. We have seen small burlap collection devices placed appropriately under the offending orifices of horses in both San Antonio and in New Orleans but, even though these devices are here, they fail to eliminate the plastering of the smelly stuff on the streets.

The Masaya market covers a large city block and we noticed that the shop-keepers were non-aggressive in their approach to vending. This pleased me greatly and encouraged me to spend ten minutes in the market instead of one or two. But, like the saying we have overused....been there, done that.

It does have an interesting and very different design on the exterior as you can see below. There are large wooden doors which, during the hours of opening are flung open permitting passage on all sides of the market area. Inside there is a common area with a stage which could permit room for observation of singing groups, musical combos or, for the reading of serious poetry. Who knows what goes on in this venue? The stage was vacant and there were no would-be observers.

One major difference we have noted in our visit here. In all of Bolivia, Peru and Guatemala, we often see the beautifully hued attire worn by the indigenous population. That same sort of coloration is missing completely here. Most folks are attired thanks to the paca  or bale of used clothing from rag and thrift shops and left-over Salvation Army donations that provides them with clothing similar to what you and I wear as a matter of course in the USA. We see the names of familiar towns, schools and places from the USA emblazoned on the chests and breasts of boys and girls, men and women here. One would be hard pressed to detect any differences from the  attire of the young folks here when compared and contrasted with their counterparts in the USA or in Canada. That goes for the mature adults as well.

In terms of overall and general well-being, I have seen no skinny individual here and I have observed few beggars, if any. They appear well-dressed and well-fed and seem to be a happy people. Even local residents don shorts and t-shirts and I see very few feet dressed with shoes. More often than not, sandals and flip-flops are used.

Leaving the market at Masaya, we drove perhaps five or six miles gaining elevation as we went to the lip of an extinct volcano. We passed through some small villages called Pueblos Blancos or white villages. In these villages many of the inhabitants had what we would say plant nurseries and were busy tending and selling their beauties. We are in the midst of the dry season here so, this beauty has to be maintained by humans for the most part as for moisture and from Nature regarding the sunlight of which we have experienced a bountiful amount.

We soon arrived at Lake Apoyo which is a collapsed volcano and contains water that is said to be more pure than the two or three other lakes in the area. Our guide indicated that tours to the shores of the lake were available for those who would rather swim in this body of water than in the one on whose shores our town of Granada lay. We opted for a view only and will save the pleasure of a plunge for perhaps Costa Rica which will come within a day or two. This lake reminded us vaguely of Crater Lake National Park in the USA. It is, however, far smaller in size and lies at a much lower altitude than does Crater Lake. Apoyo, if I got my facts straight and my ears were operating correctly, is approximately one-hundred meters in depth at its deepest point and three hundred meters can be measured from shore to shore at its widest. The air was fresh and cool up at this elevation and treated us to a few moments of great comfort.

From this location, we drove in the tourism van without air conditioning. Well, I could say that it had the same type of air conditioning as we had as children - open windows with the wind blowing fiercely from all four corners. Better that than nothing. Our guide told us that our last stop of the day would be in a wee village where, within the space of four hundred meters, we would encounter various shops and private homes where the artists in residence threw clay which resulted in some fine pieces of pottery.

We alighted on the street made of paved blocks and walked the five or six blocks. We were alone save for perhaps another couple who was also poking around the wares. We purchased a few items and talked with the owners and, in one case the artist who had both designed and produced the works of art.

At the end of the village sat the ubiquitous Catholic church. We arrived at the village of San Juan at around one o'clock and found the doors of the church shut tightly. There was no evidence that the padre had been there or had any intentions of being there.

It was a clean village and neatness was in evidence in all of the areas in which we were walking and doing our "window" shopping.

We came finally to a small private dwelling which had a few items in the sales area of the home. When John entered that area, the lady asked him into a smaller gated area where larger pieces were on display.

We began to notice items that represented animals that were incorporated into the fashioning of the pottery and, when we questioned their significance, were told that these pieces were modeled on pieces that had been excavated in this country. Of course natural dyes were employed in the fabrication of the originals and these, for the most part were made using non-natural hues. There were exceptions, however, and when we asked about vast differences in prices, we were told by the artist of one of the very nice pieces that these were made following what might have been the method employed on the originals. He indicated that the sap or milk of the trees were used in some cases for an ingredient in the dyes. The pieces in the first room that John visited were marked in the local currency but the pieces in the second room were marked in dollars. With the conversion rate of twenty to one, marking the more dear pieces in Córdobas would have produced quite a bit number as one of the larger pieces was on sale for USD200. The artist assured us though that he would grant a generous discount. The two pieces to the left were about twenty inches in height.

Many of the pottery shops still use the older method of producing pottery instead of the ovens or kilns. The pottery is placed in fire and until it is completed. Speaking of fires, very much like Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras, Nicaragua is not without the odor of fires. One cannot go far or spend much time without the telltale aroma of fires. Whether it is the residue or chaff from the fields, garbage burning or just smoke from the fires used to heat homes in cooler climates. Smoke is apparent in every place that we have visited in Central America and there seem to be absolutely no bans anywhere, whether country side or metropolitan area against the burning and production of smoke.

From San Juan we were ready to make the thirty minute ride back to our temporary home in Granada. Our driver took us back to within one-half block of our hotel and we set out for a bit of nourishment.

John had noticed an ad on one of the maps of the city which touted the best hamburgers in town. Its name was Zoom Bar. We had put off eating during our tour because the food simply did not look too appetizing at the market in Masaya and many of the shops and tiendas were closed on Sunday to permit time with families. So we both had a bit of an appetite.

We entered the restaurant and saw a bunch of ex-pats from the USA and also some Canadians. There were no locals there at all. The wait person was a fellow from New Orleans and he was chatting with the guy who appeared to be in charge...also from a country other than Nicaragua. We were dismayed because the folks who were there were drinking only and, of course, had to accompany that with cigarettes. It seemed that they waited until our food was placed before us. Ugh!!

On our way back to the hotel, John asked me if we should check out the super market. We walked about five blocks and found the market. It was far superior to anything of like kind in Antigua and very well stocked and orderly. I took no other image than the one you see at the right. It is of a papaya and the size far exceeds that which we see in the markets of Guatemala. In fact, the ones here are more like the ones we find in Venezuela and in Colombia.

After returning to the hotel, we took naps and rested a bit before we got up once again. This time we went out to see what was happening in the central park. We noticed that there were far fewer people out and that the stands which were before set up were now gone.

The church was open and I could see communicants going up for the sacraments. The church is open to the elements with windows and doors all open. I am certain that the fans were a spinning indoors too.

We continued on down for a few blocks and found a great little dessert place. We entered, ordered our sweets and drinks and enjoyed our last mini repast of the day. I had a piece of chocolate pie and John enjoyed a brownie. He reported that his choice was very rich but I did see that he was able to consume the entire thing. I had tea and he enjoyed coffee, most likely from beans of Nicaragua.

Then back to the hotel where we viewed some of the Olympics in Vancouver and John managed to see some of his favored show, the Desperate Housewives. Can you imagine? Such is life in the fast lane.

End of day two. Tomorrow we have not definite plans but may visit some small islands in Lake Nicaragua which were formed by volcanic activity centuries ago.