Scuba Diving Fishing Land Rafting Xtreme Adventures Things 2DO

Pura Vida Labor Day by cschomaker Date: 2005-09-22 Location: Costa Rica

There were enormous schools of fish on most dives. We had repeat sightings of eagle rays and whitetips. At Bat Island in the Murcielagos chain, near the Nicaraguan border, we watched an enormous manta ray glide past the group and then return to make another fly-by. On the fifth day, during the surface interval between Monkey Head's eagle rays and Tortuga's small grouper-inhabited wreck, we snorkeled with two adult and one juvenile humpback whale that were lazily cruising the area. Whales were seen most days, either from boats or shore.

Topside, we enjoyed hanging out at the pool with Stuart, the affable bartender who played all manner of music, including an unfortunate island hip-hop version of “Eye of the Tiger” and lots of Johnny Cash. We also met some really nice fellow vacationers, and laughed at the inevitable “interesting” guests, like the two tightlipped men we saw at breakfast one morning, dressed uncomfortably like Tony Soprano's henchmen at the beach. Witness protection dive trip?

At dusk, a family of howler monkeys migrated along the trees directly behind the beach. Nearby, the Father Rooster outdoor bar and restaurant perched comfortably by the beach, complete with a large iguana in the yard with an appetite for French fries. Other good choices for dinner in town (Playa Coco, a five-dollar taxi ride away) include The Louisiana Bar and Grill, with amazing spicy sauces over local fish and meat, and Papagayo's. Most nights, a beautiful large green gecko slept on the sill outside our bathroom window, like a watchdog.

Usually, after a diving trip, we sadly have to immediately return to our real world. But in Ocotal we were picked up the next morning by Rolando and David, who drove us into the interior, past the large reservoir of Lake Arenal and its surrounding mountains and wind-power farms. Rivers passed below bridges every few kilometers, cascading steeply through rock-filled ravines. On the way to the Arenal volcano, we stopped at a hillside perch called Sky Trek, donned climbing harnesses and helmets, and rode a tram car up through the stunning forest to the top of the canopy. Here, assisted by two staff members, we practiced zip-lining (don't ask—it needs to be experienced directly) on two short cable runs. Then we were unleashed on the long, fast, vertigo-inducing cables. Initially terrified, we flew at breakneck speed over the forest; at the platform where each steel cable ended, another then zig-zagged back across the yawning gap, back and forth toward the bottom where we had started. We took turns clipping in and zipping, along with a group of four young Austrians, whose screams and excited giggles just added to the manic buzz. We highly recommend trying this thrillride—if you're afraid of heights, it's mandatory.

After the ziplines, David and Rolando drove us to the Arenal Observatory Lodge (arenalobservatorylodge.com), a beautiful resort just one mountainous ridge over from a real live active, cone-shaped volcano. Although Arenal Volcano is frequently shrouded in mist and cloud, the cover completely cleared out that afternoon. Through the glass wall of our Smithsonian Room (the lodge started out as a hangout for volcanologists in 1987) we got an amazing side view of large lava rocks bouncing and rolling down the slope, kicking up big puffs of ash.

Late that afternoon, we drove to the nearby Tucanes trailhead. Rolando led us into the forest, through a clear shallow stream, past a cacophony of birdsong, and into a huge arena of black volcanic rocks, jumbled and jutting out in every direction. Although a few groups of other tourists were also there taking pictures of the rockfall directly in front of us, they all left as the sun started to go down. Always looking to give us a better experience, Rolando had instructed us to bring lights, so we could stay after dark and see the show. During the spectacular sunset over the nearby Lake Arenal, Rolando playfully admonished Amy to work on setting up her Nikon D70, which she had recently acquired, so she could get some good night shots of the volcano. As the light faded, it was apparent that the rocks that were continuously burped from Arenal's summit glowed red and shot sparks as they tumbled down the mountain. Sometimes it appeared as though crimson fireworks were being fired down the mountain. At the very top, twin red eyes glowed down like an angry octopus from the crater. We sat there, awestruck at this force of nature.

Later, we hiked back through the jungle by flashlight. After an excellent meal at a windowside table in the lodge's restaurant (where else can you dine by volcano light?), we spent the night watching red rocks slide down Arenal from our hotel room windows.

Before dawn, clouds had begun massing around the volcano again . Another scenic drive through the countryside left us at the chilly waters of the Rio Sarapiqui, where we rafted class II-III rapids, past waterbirds, huge trees, and pastures with another American couple, our friendly Chilean river guide and a young kayaker in a playboat. At a wide spot on the bank, we landed and ate tropical fruit laid out on the bottom of the overturned kayak. Rolando and David met us at the takeout. Lunch was another excellent meal at a nondescript little restaurant in the country. It's nice when you have a guide who knows the local secrets.

That afternoon, in a rainstorm, we visited the Eco-Tormales hot spring resort. Rolando chose this spot, which is not as touristy or congested as the nearby Tabacon, because of its lack of crowds and its natural beauty. As it turned out, we were the only ones in the hot springs pools during the deluge. The hot water vents out of volcanic rock and into a series of cascades and pools, painstakingly built out of concrete inlaid with smooth river rocks. The entire experience was luxuriously relaxing —in a tropical garden, dunking ourselves into steaming hot water that relaxed every muscle, with cool rain falling through a canopy of trees.

Unfortunately, change is inevitable, and we knew we would leave Costa Rica tomorrow. The next morning a coatimundi visited us outside our room; obviously the vaguely raccoonish creature was comfortable with the guests. After our breakfast (and the coatimundi's) we drove back through the mountains to San Jose and the airport. As usual, Rolando was a wealth of information about the houseplant farms and coffee plantations we passed. Some of the more wide open highlands were beautiful, and looked more southern European than Central American. On the flight back, we reflected on our dive vacation, and realized that sometimes, some places, the surface intervals are almost as good as the dives.

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