Ticos and toucans

We are literally running over the decrepit old railway bridge that acts as the Panama/Costa Rican border at Sixaola...a bit scary due to missing planks and rusty metal, and also a bit of a waste of a beautiful sunset view.  When we arrive at the Costa Rican end we are greeted by two policemen who keep telling us that Costa Rica is already closed for the night.  When we ask what we're supposed to do, they shrug and point down towards the town, saying "manana, manana".  This sentiment is echoed by a security guard and a customs worker who are positioned next to the (closed) immigration window.  Weirdly, there is nothing to stop us from entering the country and continuing on our merry way....except the knowledge that the missing passport stamp would surely cause us problems in the future.

We walk along the dusty street (yep, only one) of Sixaola, admiring the border-themed murals that decorate the raised truck bypass.  To our right we spot a "cabinas" sign and make a beeline for it.  Our instincts are confirmed by a teenage boy on a bicycle who offers to "take us to the cabinas"...like we couldn't find them for ourselves in this teensy town, but it's nice of him to offer.  Weirdly he does hang around outside for ages on his bike, but we're sure it's just because he'd like to give us a tour....?  The owner of the cabinas is a tiny and super-friendly lady who supplies us with towels, soap & a key for our room, which is pretty much an Australian-style donger but on the second storey of the building.  At least they're not taking advantage of stuck travellers by overcharging (too much) - it's just $20 for the night.

We eat at a small upstairs restaurant - the only place in town which has a wider menu than fried chicken & empanadas - where we are treated to a Nicholas Cage film subtitled into Spanish, called ' Season of the Witch'. The manager brings us a free taster (bocadilla) of a tiny but tasty chicken and bean stew “for courtesy” and we follow this with a casado (literally "marriage" - it's rice & beans!)  for our main meal.  As we are leaving, we are bid a hearty farewell by a friendly fellow at the bar called Alan or Alex (hard to tell with the drunken slur  ;-) ), who repeatedly shakes our hands and high fives us.  Chris sleeps with one eye open - we've heard too many bad things about border towns - but actually all of our experience here is positive.  People are pleased to see someone different in their small town, we think  ;-)

We are up early the next morning so we can be amongst the first to "cross" the border when it opens at 7am.  Easy enough, since the clock went back one hour when we reached Costa Rica, and in this heat it's rare for us to sleep later than 7:30am.  But when we go to the immigration window, the official looks at Lisa's passport for a while, then puts it aside while he stamps the passport of a "more local" woman.  When he's finally ready to deal with us, he indicates our Panama stamp (which of course is for yesterday).  This isn't good enough - we're not allowed to have a day in limbo! - so he tells us to go back to Panama and get a stamp for today.

We pick our way back across the bridge, a bit stressed about the reaction we're likely to get from the Panamanian side.  But the official there couldn't be nicer - he all but rolls his eyes at the fussiness of the "other side" and adds a new stamp for today.  Back across we go, and it's all good this time around - we've officially entered Costa Rica!

We go back to our favourite restaurant for desayuno (breakfast) which consists of scrambled eggs, bacon, beans & toast.  Even though we order different items, they actually seem to be the same things arranged differently on the plate.  But it's all fresh & tasty, and comes with some free travel advice from our host (basically, visit Montezuma!).  He even lets us choose the music; Spanish rock, which includes some people we recognise such as Shakira and Jon Secada, but also lots of unfamiliar tunes.

Finally we're free to hop on the bus to our next stop, the surf town of Puerto Viejo, on Costa Rica's Caribbean coast.  Sixaola even has a bus station with easy-to-read schedules, something we'll find out is a rare treat in Costa Rica!

 The bus ride passes uneventfully, although a bit bumpily over the unpaved road of the last stretch.   We have already decided to check out some hostels with hammocks for rent, just outside of town, so we strike out on foot after the bus drops us off in the town center.  It's really more of a village so it doesn't take us long to reach our first option, Crocodile Surf Camp, and the hammocks look great (especially for $6 each!) so we throw our bags in the provided lockers, update our whereabouts on Facebook (always good to reassure our mothers), and head out again to find some bikes to rent.  This is the main mode of transport in the area so it doesn't take long - we nab a couple of terribly rickety bikes from the hotel across the road.  The lack of handbrakes freaks us out for a minute, but Lisa figures out that you can apply the brakes by pedalling in reverse...takes some getting used to, and we wouldn't want to try it at high speeds, but the roads around here are super-flat so we reckon we'll be OK!  Although the seat on Lisa's bike breaks almost immediately....hmm.

We cycle eastwards through a few tiny, yoga-centric communities, and stop on one of the many beaches (Playa Uva) for a picnic lunch.  It's very quiet, especially since the beach stretches around a wide bay so there's lots of room for everyone.  There is a group in front of us keeping cool in the shallow water with beers in hand, and a few surfers at the far end of the beach.  It's an interesting landscape with jungle growing right up to the water's edge in some places.

On our way back we keep an eye out for the homemade ice cream cafe which Lisa spotted on the way down & the "Jaguar Rehabilitation Center" which we'd like to visit tomorrow.  No luck with either of these, and the latter is a bit worrying because we've been told it's 30 minutes walk (guidebook); 2 km away (hotel where we rented our bikes); "way too far to walk" (random stranger).  They only have 2 tours per day so we need to figure out how we can get there tomorrow morning.  We notice that the (closed) tour agency across from the surf camp has information about them, and it will open tomorrow at 8am, so we vow to investigate further tomorrow morning.

We return the bikes with some relief and head into town in search of dinner.  Some live Caribbean-style music attracts us to a cute beachside bar, called the Lazy Mon, with a great happy hour.  We order some amazing cocktails and settle down next to the beach to enjoy the tunes.  It's a real family affair, with the wives or girlfriends of the musicians dropping by to "guest sing" a few of the songs, and their kids running around the bar or napping in hammocks.

For dinner, we choose a small restaurant across the road.  It's not bad but not particularly memorable, although we get a kick out of watching some very competitive domino games taking place next door.

Finally it's time to bed down in our hammocks.  We don't know how many mosquitoes are out there, and we seem to be the only guests so they'll all be headed for us!  Chris drapes the mosquito net over his hammock, and Lisa suits up in her mosquito-net jacket and silk sleep sheet.  We fall asleep listening to the sound of the sea...

The next day we're up fairly early, and find out from the tour agency that the rehab center is definitely NOT within walking distance - it's nearly as far as we cycled yesterday.  So we decide to fuel up at the neighbouring bakery before we set out for the 11:30am tour.  We order a huge pastry (Chris) and toast with many pots of toppings (Lisa), plus some delicious coffee...but for some reason Chris is really hungry and has to order a big wedge of banana bread too - giving Lisa a chance to polish off her pot of cream cheese  =)

We rent some bikes from a souvenir shop, who actually have a selection.  It's only $4 until 5:30pm which is just $1 more than we paid yesterday, and these are much better bikes (although stilll with the weird brakes!).  It's already 11 so we zip off down the road, hoping that we can find the rehab center today!  It turns out to be really obvious, but the signs are mobile and they must take them down each day when the tours are finished - this will keep things peaceful for the volunteers & animals in the afternoon, when they take the monkeys out to play in the trees & let the wild cats wander around the grounds.

We've travelled much quicker than yesterday (although Chris doesn't love this bike any more than the last one, unfortunately) and have lots of time to check out the many snakes they have in terrariums around the entrance lobby.  There are also several preserved animals and skeletons, and a few spiders including a tarantula.  For those of you who know Lisa, you'll understand that she is in her element here, remembering the good old days working in Canada's provincial parks  =)

Finally it's time for the tour & we break up into 3 groups - one Spanish and 2 English.  There's about 10 people in our group so it's easy for everyone to see & hear what's going on.  We learn lots about frog spawning (and get a photo op on Costa Rica's most famous resident, the red-eyed tree frog); meet a brown booby (a bird!), a broken-hearted owl, and a super-friendly deer; check out two different types of toucans (did you know there are different types?  we didn't!); meet a brain-damaged ocelot, Brigit; see a tree full of baby yellow pit vipers & a huge cat-eating python; and watch the volunteers cuddle some sloths.  The ultimate moment is when we get to go in the monkey enclosure to meet the baby monkeys.  Lisa is worried that they might inadvertently scratch the "jungle blisters" she acquired in Panama, so she volunteers to stay outside and take some photos.  All in all, it's an absolutely amazing tour and a great chance to meet some of the animals which Costa Rica is famous for.  And it's nice to know that every penny of the $15 tour price goes towards getting these animals back out into the wild, or into a suitable permanent situation (in case they can't survive in the wild for some reason, ie. the poor ocelot who is nearly blind, can't smell, and has epilepsy  =(  ).  It's sad to hear how many of them were rescued from homes who had acquired them as pets when they were babies, only to mistreat or abandon them when they turned out not to be the best idea for a pet.  Reminds us of the periodic stories of people with alligators in their bathtubs...

On the way back to town we also find the homemade ice cream place, the "Jungle Love Cafe".  We share a huge plate of nachos (with homemade hot! sauce) and some coffee ice cream.  It's delicious and the staff are really nice & friendly, plus the setting (on a shady porch) is ideal for a hot day.

We have lost track of time and realise that we need to hightail it back to the surf camp to collect our packs if we want to get to San Jose tonight as planned.  In the end (and after some debate!) we actually cycle the last couple of kilometers with our backpacks aboard, since there's no other way to make it to the bus station in time!  It's actually not as hard to balance with a large backpack on your bike as we thought it might be...

Thanks to our adventurous cycling we now have about 15 minutes leeway to catch the bus, so we don't have to run to the station in the heat.  We make it with at least 5 minutes to spare and Chris is worried about our lack of cash so he dumps his bag and dashes off to the ATM.  He even manages to pop next door to the supermarket & pick up some salsa, so that we can make dinner when we arrive at our hostel tonight - although Lisa is quite worried when she has to peer behind the waiting bus to see if he's running up the road to catch it!  In the end the driver seems to be in no hurry, since he insists that we visit the (hidden) boleteria (ticket office) before we can board.  Finally we are underway, and we can relax and enjoy the views of the seaside rolling by as we pass through Cahuita & Limon before crossing the mountains to the capital.

When we arrive at the "Terminal del Caribe" in San Jose, our bus is rushed by dozens of taxi drivers.  One adopts Chris and follows us around loyally, helping to shift our backpacks from the bus to his waiting cab.  He's a nice guy and tries to make small talk with us, despite his limited English and our nearly non-existent Spanish.  Unfortunately he also manages to charge us about 7000 colones ($14) for our journey, which we're sure is well above the going rate.

Even more unfortunately, the hostel that Chris so patiently researched and booked the night before has overbooked, and has only one bed available.  Apparently they emailed us earlier that day to let us know, but we can't understand why they felt safe to assume we'd see that email!  The guy who's working the evening shift is nice but ineffective, and pretty much leaves it up to us to find alternative accommodation.  After a phone call confirms that another of our preferred hostels is also full (except for expensive private rooms), we decide to spring for a nearby hotel (only $40, but a big leap from the $16 we expected to pay for the hostel dorms).  It's a pity, because the hostel is in a great old colonial building across from a park and looks beautiful - but we are just happy to have a place to sleep (and we get a chance to watch some bad films - including Attack the Block! - on the in-room TV).  The ensuite bathroom with hot(!) shower is another bonus, and Lisa actually manages to take 2 showers in the short time that we're there.

The next morning, our priority is to find some cheaper beds.  Lisa goes through the listings in the Rough Guide, and a couple of others that we spotted online the night before, and plots them all on the city map.  Most of the hostels here don't seem to have an online availability calendar - and if they do, it's unreliable! - so we decide that it's easiest to just show up and enquire.  This inspires us to start with the nearest one...just across the road!  They have a private double room, but it's $34 and they have no kitchen or laundry facilities so it's just going to work out to be too expensive.  Too bad, because the guy that runs the place seems really nice!

Our next stop is Costa Rica Backpackers, located just past the Supreme Court building.  It's eerie walking through the city on a Sunday morning - absolutely everyone must be at church, and we are reminded of a long-ago trip to Londonderry in Northern Ireland (without the marching!).  This hostel has some beds - in fact, it's a huge sprawling place which must be less than half full so we can take our pick.  The guy at the front desk knows his sales tactics and leads us past the swimming pool & hammocks to a cute double room...we're sold, especially when he gives us a discount ($32 reduced to $28 per night) AND a free night for booking 3 nights (which don't need to be consecutive).  We know that we'll be around for a few days while Chris gets his dental crown done, so this is perfect.

CR Backpackers - much better inside!

We leave 4.5 kgs of laundry (tropically damp and musty) with the front desk and set out in search of desayunos.  Almost everything is closed but we eventually find a bakery, and buy a little bit of everything with some coffee to wash it down.  We sit outside and watch the local characters (and a cute "Tico Train", like the kind you'd see at a theme park) meander past.  We notice that most of our neighbouring buildings are lawyers and the like, and also spot a few "sodas" (cheap local cafes) which we can hit for lunch during the week.  But there is not much to see today, so we head back to the hostel and spend the rest of the afternoon researching our options for day trips (Lisa), having a nap (Chris), meeting some new friends (both), enjoying happy hour (both), and hanging out in the attached bar/restaurant enjoying some rock music (everyone!).  In particular, we find out that a group of clowns are staying at the hostel, on a week-long "Humanitarian Clown Trip".  Good thing we found out in advance, or Chris surely would've been pinching himself when he shared breakfast with 25 clowns the next morning!  The three amateur clowns that we meet on the first night are really nice, although a little nervous about the week ahead.  It'll be interesting to hear their stories, and maybe we'll manage to tag along one day....

On Monday, Chris is up early to go to the dentist.  Lisa leaves soon after him (after a quick chat over some free coffee, with a small group bound for Nicaragua - one of the girls is an Australian who's about to move to Calgary!) to visit the Jade Museum.  On the way, she stops at a small soda/cafe for something to eat.  It's such a simple place that there is no menu - the waiter simply asks "desayunos?"  Lisa replies "si!" and the waiter asks if she wants her eggs scrambled or fried, and if she'd like coffee or orange juice....then she sits back to see what desayunos actually arrives!  Luckily it's a delicious plate of rice & beans (of course), made with some peppers & onions, and a large blob of something that's between mayonnaise & sour cream (it's called "natilla" in Spanish).  There are two hunks of bread and a pile of scrambled eggs, and the orange juice tastes fresh and delicious.  Altogether it costs 990 colones (less than $2)!!

jade tooth inserts?!

Suitably fuelled up, Lisa heads across the road to the Jade Museum.  There is a handy (free!) locker area for her backpack, and although the US$ 9 entrance fee is steep she's not going to regret coming here.  There is an amazing amount of jade, gold, stone & other artifacts; a great bilingual display about pre-Columbian Costa Rica & central America; some neat stories like the ancient fertility rituals (involving a lot of boob-grabbing women) and warrior habits (put the enemy's head on a stick & carry it around.. then make a carving to commemorate the event!); and an incredibly detailed scale model of a typical ancient village, right down to the mushrooms growing in the forest.  She easily spends 3 hours here and takes tons of pictures (see our Costa Rica album for more!).  She makes it back to the hostel just in time to meet Chris, admire his temporary crown, and seek out a local soda for a (soft) lunch.  The latter is a funny little place - the only other customers are some tea-drinking road workers, and the owner makes a big fuss over us.  Chris tries to order a hamburguesa (which is on the menu) but she looks at him like he's made that up...he somehow ends up with a HUGE plate of fajita, rice, beans, salad and fries.

We then search around for some bits for dinner and find a rather cute greengrocer's. It's owned by an older lady who has pictures of herself with her husband in various locations around the world, more often than not with a football stadium in the background. She was very nice and sold us a vegetable we had never seen before but that we had decided to try. Upon returning to the hostel we asked around and were told by the guy on reception that it was a 'chayote' and that we should boil it. It turned out to be quite nice, tasting a bit like a cross between a squash and a potato.

Now, we've heard a lot of people say that San Jose is boring & even ugly (our Rough Guide is pretty disparaging in it's description of the city as well).  But we'd like to dispute this!  The city has a beautiful setting, in a wide valley surrounded by volcanoes & mountains.  At this time of year (wet season) it's often hazy, but we haven't had that much actual rain.  Every night we've had amazing lightning storms though!  The city center has at least 3 pedestrianised streets with quite different characters, and there are loads of parks & squares to relax in.  And the street art rivals what we saw in San Francisco!  We're quite happy to be here for a few days, just wandering around and soaking up the atmosphere.

However, there are lots of things to see & do in the surrounding area as well, so on Tuesday morning we check out of the hostel for a couple of days (leaving most of our stuff in the storage room) and head to the "Tuasa" bus station.  For those of you who haven't yet had the pleasure of coming to Costa Rica, there are several bus stations even in smaller towns...we actually don't know how many there are in San Jose, but at least in this case the one we need is just a few blocks away.

We find it without much difficulty (despite the complete lack of street signs in this part of the world!) and wander in, looking for the bus to Poas Volcano.  Luckily there is a short & sweet man whose sole task seems to be to scoop up tourists and ensure they wait in the right place for the bus, which only runs once a day at 8:30am.  We duly join the small throng as instructed, but sneak off to the side a few minutes later to have a coffee at the station's soda...it's the perfect accompaniment to the pina (pineapple) empanadas and tasty muffins we bought yesterday with breakfast in mind!  Our empanada-eating attracts the attention of a local man who's also waiting for the volcano bus, and he (Victor) strikes up a conversation.  He tells us that he travels around the country selling womenswear such as socks and (in an embarassed aside to Chris) brassieres.  Today's pitch is the area around Poas, and he's got a large duffel bag at his side.  Lisa takes a moment to reminisce about her days in the direct sales biz in Toronto....

The bus arrives on time but doesn't actually set out until 8:45.  Victor is the only one who minds - almost everyone else is a tourist, and the one other person who isn't is not in a hurry either.  In fact, we still arrive at our next stop (Alajuela) 5 minutes early.  The journey is pretty comfortable and once we leave Alajuela, the scenery starts to improve...we pass loads of forest, cow fields and fincas (coffee plantations), as well as several signs advertising "fresas volcan" (volcano strawberries!); all the while, we are steadily climbing.  But suddenly the bright sunshine and blue skies are swallowed up in clouds, and a misty rain is blowing around us.  Unfortunately this rain gets progressively heavier as we continue, and Lisa is starting to think strongly about "plan B" which is to find somewhere in the area to stay, and tackle the volcano early on Wednesday.  But the nearest town is 10km away from the park entrance, which seems a bit excessive for an early morning hike, so we peer keenly out the window for other options as we approach the park.  We spot a couple that don't seem too far out....but we'll feel differently about that soon, when we decide to hop off the bus at the entrance gate instead of paying the fee to go in.  It's misty, cold & soaking wet so it doesn't seem worth the $10 fee when it's unlikely we'd be able to see anything!  Also we don't know what facilities are in the park - the bus doesn't leave again until 2pm (it's 10:30am now) so what if there is nowhere sheltered to wait?  We bundle into our rain jackets and stride back down the road - much to the bemusement of our driver and the other bus passengers, not to mention the park staff!

It's surprisingly cold rain, and also very windy.  We'd kinda forgotten what it was like to feel cold but it comes back to us pretty quickly!  We just have to hope that we can find some accommodation soon, before our spare clothes also manage to get wet.  We try to hitch a ride with the few passing cars, but no joy. After about half an hour, we reach the closest accommodation...but the sign at the entrance is falling down, which is perhaps a better indicator than the "abierto" (open) sign...?  Chris makes some allusion to the Bates Motel, but Lisa is keen to try it anyways - there is no "se vende" (for sale) sign, and other than the broken sign the entrance looks well cared for.  So we turn down the rutted dirt road (4x4 only!) and follow it down towards the valley.

It seems like we've been walking for ages, and at every turn in the road the cold wind whips against our soaking wet clothes.  It's a pity because we can see that there ought to be a great view and some lovely peace & quiet, but all we can think about is shelter!  We pass a cute little rental cabin on tall stilts, with a wide porch over top of a beautiful hydrangea bush.  It looks so inviting, but the gate is closed and there's just a phone number on the sign outside (we are still using our UK mobile, so we try to avoid making calls except in case of emergencies!).  So we continue down the hill until we reach the end, a small house with a crooked sign on the roof inviting us to Las Lagunillas.  There is smoke trickling from the chimney but the door is closed, and we're about to burst into tears when it opens, and a rather astonished-looking man pops out to welcome us.  We duck inside and use our best sign language to request a room for the night.  Our host introduces himself as Alberto, and shows us to a cute little room which is tacked onto the side of the house and nicely nestled against the bank on the other two sides - for $30, it looks cosy and warm, and even has a hot (but scary-looking) shower which Alberto demonstrates for us.  We're sold, and he leaves us to peel off our wet layers with a standing invitation to return to his restaurant for coffee or "mountain whiskey".

We like the sound of this and it doesn't take us long to lay out everything to dry, rub ourselves briskly with a towel, throw on our best dry clothes (not too many choices available since we just have day packs, so Lisa has a fetching ensemble involving leggings and a scarf that's pretending to be a skirt!), and dash back through the side door into the restaurant.  Unfortunately it's not too toasty in there and we proceed to spend the next couple of hours shivering our way through coffee, whiskey (which is a bit like tequila, and served with a neat piece of fruit which seems halfway between an orange and a lime), and lunch.  Everything is delicious though - even Lisa is sold on the breaded chicken, which has nothing in common with KFC - it seems to be a chicken breast which has been pounded quite flat, then dipped in something resembling pancake batter before being fried.  It's moist and really tasty!  We feel a bit bad that Alberto seems to have to go out to get some of the ingredients for our lunch though, and we wonder how many customers he gets at this time of year.  It's a shame because it's a beautiful setting, and we are mesmerised by the constantly changing weather and views.  In the brief moments when it's clear, we can see the San Jose suburbs laid out below us, and hummingbirds busily flit amongst the feeders...but minutes later the wind is howling, rain is blowing everywhere, and the valley has all but disappeared in the clouds.

After lunch we decide to go & huddle under the blankets in our room, and agree with Alberto that we'll return for dinner ("sopa" (soup) is requested!) at 8pm.  It's much cosier in our room and we enjoy a few games of cards and a cheeky nap.  Shortly after dusk the electricity goes off - so much for the hot shower, as we're guessing (correctly, it turns out) that the storm has blown out part of the line.  But like good campers we have packed a flashlight and a headtorch, so our card game is barely interrupted and we have no trouble making our way to the restaurant at soup o'clock.  Our table is lit with a candle (ah, warmth!) and Alberto is inordinately pleased when we order beer to accompany our soup.  He brings the meal with a flourish and warns us that it's "mucho caliente" (very hot) - perfect!  This soup is just what we needed - piled high with vegetables and noodles, and indeed very hot.  Lisa even eats the pieces of minute steak that are tucked in amongst the veg.  Then it's back to our room, where unfortunately we won't get a chance to enjoy a hot (electric) shower after all.  Instead we have a game of cribbage and then hide in the toasty bed, listening to the wind howling and the frogs singing outside. Fingers crossed for a brighter day tomorrow, otherwise we're going to have to hang around until the 2pm bus, or brave another long walk to get to town.

We sleep well in our cosy room, but awake to the sound of the wind howling outside - uh oh.  We're lying there contemplating our next step when Lisa hears a bird singing outside.  She jumps up and pulls back the curtain to see blue sky! (and also a pretty horse & some chickens)

Our hero, Alberto

We throw our (still slightly damp) clothes on and grab our packs.  We made an arrangement with Alberto that we would come in at 7am for coffee, but no breakfast - we wanted to get an early start if the weather was good.  He serves us two steaming cups of coffee with a packet of crackers on the side -  taking great pains to point out that they are "integral" (= whole wheat?).  He also indicates that we should wait for him - he returns shortly with a hammer in hand, and we eventually surmise that he's been told about the broken sign, and will give us a lift to the main road when he goes up to fix it.  So with a cheery "Vamos" from Alberto we all pile into his Land Rover (Chris squished in the back) and bump, jolt and jerk up the rough track to the road.

We spend a few minutes saying goodbye and a huge thankyou to Alberto for taking such good care of us.  He tries to insist that he'll drive us to the park gate but we reckon he's been generous enough, so we decline & set out to walk.  It's a good thing too- there are several large pieces of debris from the storm in the middle of the road, but even the SINAC park workers who drive past us don't seem inclined to get out of their truck to move these...but Chris takes it upon himself to toss them all into the ditches as we pass.

We reach the gate at 8:30 and the sun is still shining - perfect.  We pay the $10 entrance fee and continue on up the road until we come to the visitor's center.  We can see some incoming clouds so we decide to just grab a couple of cold drinks to accompany our picnic lunch (which we've been carrying with us all this time - thankfully it didn't mind getting wet!) and do all the hikes right away - since the bus back to San Jose isn't until 2pm, we should have plenty of time to visit the educational displays & shops later.

It's a short, easy walk on a paved path to the crater.  This is our first volcano peak so we spend some time oohing and aahing over the steam vents and the opaque turquoise crater lake.  At this time of day there are just 2 other people there, so we can all have a lookout area to ourselves while we try to catch a cloudless moment to get some photos of the lake.

The next trail takes us through dwarf cloudforest (stunted by the harsh conditions at the top of a volcano!) to another, much larger crater lake.  Again, the clouds are whipping in and out of the area so quickly that every photo is different, and again we share the spot with just 2 others (this time it gives everyone a chance to have a photo taken with their partner!).  The walk through the cloudforest is also great - it's a real fantasy-type landscape, with dark tree limbs intertwined in impossibly complex patterns.  The ex-forest ranger in Lisa appreciates the amount of effort that's gone into the packed surface of the trail - even clearing it in this dense forest must've taken ages.

The final trail leads from the lake back to the parking lots & visitor's center, this time through some "normal" forest packed with birdsong, flowering trees, ferns & bromeliads.  We meet a couple from Costa Rica (him) and Colombia (her), and a small group of young people rushes past us at one point, but for the rest of the walk we're all alone which is great for birdwatching.  Probably the most interesting bird we spot is a big dark pheasant-looking fellow, high up in a tree...we learn later that this is a "black turkey".

Altogether the hikes take us about 3 hours, so we still have plenty of time to relax.  We sit down in a small picnic area to make our salad (beans, tuna, vegetables & mayo) and spread out our damp clothes to dry in the intermittent sun.  We have to spend a bit of time fighting off a very forward squirrel (who is disappointingly not as green as our guidebook led us to expect) but overall it's a very pleasant lunch.  The parking lot is about half full now and a few buses have pulled in too, so we're especially glad to have had a chance to stroll in silence before all these visitors arrived.

After lunch we check out the visitor center (tiny, but with an interesting light display about the "Pacific Ring of Fire", grab a slice of cake & a coffee from the cafe, and browse through the shop (lots of hammocks, t-shirts, and colourful paintings on wood).  We find our Costa Rica magnet and also pick up some locally-made liqueurs - cream & coffee.

We were thinking of making a stop in Alajuela and jumping on a bus to Sarchi to view the famous painted oxcarts, but we are pretty tired after our adventures and decide to just take the bus straight to San Jose.  It's a pleasant surprise to discover that the bus is free on the way home!  This means we have a bit of money to buy some new shoes for Lisa - she has realised that she has some decent clothes to wear when meeting an old colleague tomorrow, but her only shoes are stinky sports sandals; cheap green thongs; or hiking boots!  Luckily she manages to find something in her size (well, almost - US size 9.5 - frankly this is a miracle in Costa Rica, where most of the zapaterias only carry up to size 7 for women!) which don't have a 4 inch heel (another miracle) and are on sale for about US$ 15!

We arrive back at Costa Rica Backpackers and are relieved to discover that their "buy 3 nights, get one free" deal DOES apply even if you don't have a continuous stay.  The guy who checked us out told us this wasn't the case.  (We notice the next day that all the signs are changed to make the wording of the offer much clearer.)  We make a quick dinner with the groceries we'd left in the fridge, and pass out on the bed in our basement room.  Even the music from the bar upstairs can't disturb us!