What’s a trip to Costa Rica without a zip lining tour?
Papa Bear booked our half-day excursion with El Santuario Canopy Adventure Tours. They picked us up right at the hotel and drove us about 45 minutes to the mountainside facility. The staff outfitted everyone with harnesses and gave us some rudimentary instructions. Really, though, there’s very little to learn as the competent staff are with you every step of the way. The tour consisted of a series of 11 cables interspersed with brief walks through the canopy and a few climbs to elevated platforms.
Getting strapped in
On the first platform
The conventional way to zip is to sit in the harness and lean back with feet out front, hanging onto a metal triangle with your hands to keep yourself from spinning around.
Papa Bear doing it old school
Or you can accept the staff’s challenge and go upside down. Papa Bear knows what happens to my brain when a challenge is extended: I’m like a bull seeing a red scarf. All common sense is gone and I charge ahead. Now I trusted that the tour staff knew what they were doing and I wasn’t really in any danger but holy crap that was a freaky feeling. Freaky amazing! I guess Sister Bear inherited some of that trait from me as she, too, went down upside down. Unlike me, I’m pretty sure she didn’t scream the entire way down.
Mama Bear accepts the upside down challenge
Sister Bear goes topsy turvy
There a couple of very long lines on the course, the longest being more than 4300 feet. When the little bears didn’t have enough mass to make it all the way down they were either connected to a guide for the ride or rescued when they stopped 20 feet from the end.
Stranded Sister Bear gets hauled back in
After the last rope, we were still at least 100 feet off the ground so we “rappelled” down, which was its own special pleasure.
Baby Bear rappels down
At the conclusion of the tour we were served a hearty lunch of roast chicken, rice and beans, and salad. For an additional fee we purchased the photo package taken by the staff, which were far superior to our own lame efforts. Some of these photos are theirs.) It was all we’d hoped it would be. And more. The more being Baby Bear losing her cookies just as the van dropped us back at the hotel. Fortunately for the van occupants, she made it out of the van before doing so. Not so lucky were the hotel staff who had to clean it off their steps. The heat and humidity got to us all. I ended up with a rather nasty case of heat exhaustion which extended well into the next day. Oh well, time for another day of relaxing.
With our body clocks still two hours ahead of Costa Rica time, we awoke way too early for the hotel restaurant to be open. We hung around the room for a bit then went off in search of breakfast. We found it at The Marlin, a 10-minute walk down the beach.
This open-air restaurant would become our go-to breakfast place because they open at 7 am and they serve good food. At last, real Tico food. I was thrilled with el tipico, the typical Tico breakfast of eggs, plantains, rice and beans (gallo pinto).
The girls went for the pancakes and Papa Bear had, yes, The American. Baby Bear was in seventh heaven over the ginormous glasses of fresh fruit juice on offer. She indulged in this relatively inexpensive luxury at every meal today, which turned out to be a wee bit too much, and resulted in a mild case of the hives that got her banned from fruit juice for a couple of days.
For the rest of the day we alternated between the pool and the beach with the girls digging the boogie boards we borrowed from front desk. A nice relaxing day of settling in and recovering from the journey here.
Today was our travel day. We took a direct flight from IAD to San Jose, Costa Rica. The airport is quite small and before we knew it we were outside. I had hoped to find an ATM to take out colones for the next day or so but all I could find was a money changer charging obscene rates. So off we went with no local currency.
The plan was to take a free hotel shuttle to the airport Holiday Inn and wait there for our van to the coast. We looked in vain for any kind of signage that would indicate where the shuttles stop but to no avail. Fortunately, the locals were very friendly. Normally when a local approaches an obviously lost or confused tourist who no doubt just got off a long flight I assume it’s to perpetuate some kind of scam. Like when we were charged 5 times the normal rate for a ride from the airport in Athens. I was pleasantly surprised when several taxi touts, out of the apparent goodness of their hearts, helped us figure out where to stand to wait for the shuttle. I started to relax and thought, “Bienvenidos a Costa Rica”.
The hotel the shuttle went to is part of a complex that includes a casino, Denny’s restaurant and another hotel. I tried to change money in the hotel but they wouldn’t do that for people not staying there. So I ventured into the casino and, after a couple of attempts, managed to take out some cash. The chief impediment on my first try was I had absolutely no idea what the exchange rate was. Faced with a set of very large numbers I was unsure if I was taking out the equivalent of $50 or $500. A quick check of the Internet confirmed the actual number was more like $100.
We had a few hours to kill before our van arrived and there wasn’t much to do, aside from gambling, so we ate lunch in Denny’s. Yes we did. Our first meal in Costa Rica was not some local speciality, like the gallo pinto that can be found everywhere, but good old American diner food. Welcome to Costa Rica.
At long last we boarded our small van, operated by Interbus, for the 3-hour trip to Manuel Antonio. Said trip would have been 30 minutes shorter had we not stopped at the tourist trap souvenir shop which also serves as a transfer point for people going to other destinations. I was adamantly against buying a bunch of souvenirs before we had even spent any time in country. On ice cream, I relented. After a long day, we arrived a the Hotel Verdemar around 7 pm pretty zonked and not at all hungry. Nothing tells you you’re near the equator more than 6 pm sunset in April. As it was quite warm, we took a quick nighttime dip in the lovely hotel pool and dipped our toes in the nearby ocean before crashing.
Early March 2015. We’d been talking about going somewhere for Spring Break, a mere 5 weeks away, but had made no plans. On a whim, I checked out various routes from DC to San Jose, Costa Rica. Direct flight on United? Ooh, that’s promising. Despite becoming airline-agnostic when we moved from Houston (where we were Continental-then-United captives for obvious reasons) and collecting miles across multiple airlines, I’ve always had the easiest time redeeming for decent flights on United. A quick check of the balances showed enough between my and Papa Bear’s accounts to purchase four award tickets. Business class was even available for the return flight, which was routed through Panama City on Copa Airlines, at the same points level as coach. OK, let’s do this!!
My plan was to purchase three tickets from my account and book PB’s from his. To try to get around capacity limits in Biz class, I opened two browsers and logged into each of our accounts so I could book both sets of tickets simultaneously. I hit enter on mine and the girls’ and quickly switched browsers and did the same on PB’s. Back to my account, SUCCESS. Back to PB’s: no more award space in Biz. Sad trombone. I switched it back to coach and got him on the flight. Then I had to sheepishly explain why his two daughters and I would be flying back in style while he was back in coach. Fortunately he’s pretty chill about all this. I think it has something to do with me hacking so we could go to Costa Rica for practically free (as well as Ireland, Italy, Argentina and who knows where in the future?)
So, with no plan other than knowing the dates and times of our flights, it was time to decide exactly where in Costa Rica to spend our week. Volcanoes, beach, zip lining, surfing? So many choices, so little time in country. The little ones’ ages ruled out some of the more adventurous options like white-water rafting and bungee jumping but there were still plenty of cool options left.
Ultimately, we decided to spend the whole week in the area of Manuel Antonio, the site of a national park and beautiful beach. Situated on the Pacific Coast, the Manuel Antonio area provided access to several tours in addition to its own attractions.
PB found a great hotel right on the beach and a 10-minute walk from the park. More about this and our adventures is yet to come. It meanwhile, here’s a teaser…