Clouds in my Coffee

I know I promised the best installation of the Costa Rica stories would be the best, but I just can't seem to find the gumption to write about it.

It was the best part of my trip. Perhaps sometimes experiences are just meant to be that, experiences. Monteverde, I believe, is a place that needs to be experienced. Any attempt to recreate what I felt there is futile. You must journey yourself up the narrow winding dirt road not meant for the bus you are riding (barely, it seems, adequate for a horse and carriage). You must be patient as the bus ascends into the misty cloud forest, taking two hours to go a mere 20 km. Then, you must enjoy the walk in the light rain, 20 minutes further along the dirt road, to get to the Monteverde Coffee Coop Caf é, where the proprietor, a 40-ish woman, is more like a hostess welcoming guests into her living room than a café manager, chatting with equal ease and pleasantness in either English or Spanish (or a bit of both, as I like to do). Then, after some refreshment and a interview with a student working on a project in how to help farmers market their products and tours to tourists while supporting the environment of Costa Rica (she was from USF in Tampa, reminding the world is usually much smaller than we ever imagine), there is another long stroll to the Ecological Sanctuary. Along the way, you might wander into some shops and galleries. Then you will get an invite from the bookstore clerk for a concert there this evening. Of course, you must stop for a taste of the Monteverde cheese factory's coffee ice cream (flavored with Monteverde coffee, of course) – a luscious creamy delight. Finally, you get to the Ecological Sanctuary a bit early for the night hike and are rewarded with time for a warm cup of coffee and dinner time for the monkeys just outside the reception center. There is something about being in a forest at night. We see owls, majestic and mystical as they fly deeper into the forest when we approach. We see sleeping toucans. Still early, I head up to the concert, held in an outdoor concert shell. My dinner becomes coffee, pie, followed by a beer. A good vacation meal. Outside, I sit with the locals and expats as we listen to an eclectic group of musicians create atmospheric music, at once organic and electronic. It is not something I would listen to in my car or home, probably, but the energy is soothing and absorbing. The night air in the forest rejuvenates my body and soul.

That evening, the loudest cricket to ever live and some techno club near my hotel keep me up. I get a few hours of sleep before I head out early to catch the bus to the Monteverde reserve for the first morning tour. I am early again. This time there is no coffee and I am glad I grabbed the small cup before the bus. My earliness is rewarded as I get to sit in the hummingbird garden alone with the hungry birds. As soon as our tour starts we are rewarded with seeing the rare Quetzal. In between I continue to be astounded by the peacefulness, richness, and beauty of this the cloud forest. And the diversity. At the end, our tour closes with the eerie calls of howler monkeys and some up close sightings. My time is winding to a close here. I stop at the Caf é on the way back to town for lunch again. I finish my gift shopping there and at the adjacent women's art collective (CASEM). I pick up my bags and wait, now in the rain again, for the bus back to San Jose.

Back in San Jose, I get a single room at Hotel Aranjuez, supposedly sharing the bathroom, though I never seen anyone else use it. It is the best night sleep I have all vacation. I have no reason to wake up early the next day, though I do (I think being so close to the equator makes it difficult to sleep late). I have a leisurely breakfast, then head out to see some museums in San Jose and do a bit more gift shopping. I lunch in the Central Market with the working folks – always more interesting and usually better food than the restaurants for tourists. I tour the national theater, which just seems to be perfect for an opera, especially at $16 for a seat. When the rain threatens to descend upon the city, I head back to the hotel where I enjoy the veranda with coffee and a book. Finally, I meet up with my Spanish teacher for some beers and great conversation. A lovely way to end my stay in Costa Rica. It now feels like home again, or a home away from home. Relaxed from the company and the beer, I have another wonderful night's sleep, another leisurely morning breakfast, and, at last, I move on towards Florida and my family . . . with whom home truly resides.