Monteverde

Let me begin by saying that I only wish I had gone to Monteverde earlier in my stay here. I am still a few posts behind on my weekend trips, but I had to jump ahead to this past weekend before I forgot anything I wanted to say. Myself and 5 others arrived in Monteverde around 11 a.m. Friday morning. Its center is relatively small, consisting of one wide street packed with adventure outfitter companies and touristy shops, and a generous variety of overnight accommodations scattered on surrounding streets. We were pointed in the general direction of neighboring Santa Elena by an obnoxious and pushy (better put: typical) taxi driver, and made our way to Sleepers Sleep Cheaper Hostel. There we met Ronnie, the owner, along with his wife and handful of outgoing, bouncy kids (The one pictured, in particular, wouldn't leave me alone until we took a series of face pictures. This one was "triste"). He used to be a French teacher down near the Panama border, but found it too boring and decided to redirect himself in Monteverde. We ended up getting a room with a private bathroom and breakfast of eggs, fruit, granola and toast in the mornings for a mere $6/night. It's definitely the best all-around hostel I've been to so far.
After we got settled in, we walked into town to check things out. I'd heard about the Monteverde Cheese Factory, which is well-known for its yummy cheese distribution all over Costa Rica, and of course was itching to get my hands on some free samples. After asking around a bit we learned it was about 4 km uphill from the center of town. "Aii, es demasiado largo y duro", a Tica told us, of the walk to get there. She recommended waiting for the bus. I've found that's the Tico's general feeling towards any activity requiring an above-average input of energy: it's not vale la pena, just take the bus. However, determined not to spend 600 colones in bus fare to get to my free samples (which would then cancel out their freeness, as well as my excitement to get free cheese in the first place) , I insisted that I wanted walking directions. Myself and a friend were the only one's who ended up making the trek, since upon hearing the distance and slope of the road and taking into consideration the sheer heat and humidity of the afternoon, the other 4 friends settled on staying.

The road wasn't, in fact, worse than any other shadeless and steep journey, and we made it there in short time. To my dismay there were no free samples; just fancy high-end cheese (if cheese can be classified as high-end), various meats, and creamy tubs of ice cream. I opted for a chocolate cone as well as some caramel/dulce de leche bars. My friend Eric bought the mysterious "Chococheese", to be had at dinner later on. In theory, Chococheese sounds perfect. What's better in this world than chocolate and cheese? Nothing. So why not put the two together?

A friend's sad supper of ramen noodles (serving small budgets worldwide, 20 cents at a time), beer, and chococheese (or rather the piece that could not be finished in fear of upchucking the rest of the budget-meal).


I'll tell you why. 1) Your taste buds will hate you. 2) Your sensory system will suffer (looks and feels like cheese, tastes like old cocoa...??). 3) You certainly will gag.

Anyway, I'd been craving patacones (fried plantains) for a while so I took it upon myself to make some during dinnertime. My attempts were relatively successful, although I think I could have picked some less-green green plantains. They were a little bitter, and I tried to compensate with more oil and salt. They were also ridiculously hard to squish without the proper plantain squisher thing I've seen my host mom use, and I'm surprised I didn't give myself a hernia in the smushing process.

Patacones before, while cooking (and cursing myself each time the hot oil spit up onto my hands/face), and after.

Saturday morning, my friends went on a zipline canopy tour while I opted for a trail ride at Finca Brisa. A tourismo van came to pick me up from the hostel and we drove for about 15 minutes down one of the most rocky, unlevel "roads" I've ever been on. Upon arriving to the stable, which is situated in between several houses inhabited by various members of the large family which runs it, I was given a warm welcome. I couldn't keep track of all the names, but I met the grandmother, grandfather (pictured), 3 sons and their wives, the great aunt - 91 years old and still working on the farm - and about 7 grandchildren. The horses were brought out and thus began our ride through the family's dozen or so square miles of rolling farmland. The ride itself offered beautiful views that extended from la Fortuna (my previous weekend's destination, and neighboring town of Arenal Volcano) all the way to the Gulf of Nicoya, and my horse, Mariposa (Butterfly), was surprisingly quick-footed and forward, which hasn't seemed too common for horses here.

After the ride, one of the sons walked us through the garden, which housed every spice, fruit, and vegetable imaginable, and took us over to a hut in the sugar cane field which they use to produce guaro, a liquor made from sugar cane. Their we watched while they pushed sugar cane stalks through a press and squeezed all the juice out. After pouring it through a filter we were given a cup of the sticky sweet juice to drink with some homemade guaro - delicious. One of the grandsons took us to check out the turtles they have (for what reason I have yet to figure out...I'm hoping just as pets). He jumped into the muddy little enclosure and then proceeded to plop a fairly large tortoise into my hands. After that we saw their pond full of carp/koi, which they said they love to eat. Then we made our way back to the stable entrance for the van, and at this time I was talking about how I wished I could come back the next day and ride again, because I miss it alot. The son who had taken me out on the trail replied, "Well, why don't you stay then? We have another group going out at 3 and you can ride again." I found myself eagerly agreeing before the moneywise portion of my brain started to calculate whether they would charge me again - and if my budget could afford it. I was let inside the grandparents' house, which is attached to the stable, and an aunt promptly began making pleasant conversation with me. The next thing I knew, the guide's wife came in and told me my lunch was on the kitchen table. What hospitality! So I went in and had some delicious arroz con pollo with homemade lemonade. By the time I was done, they called me outside and told me I could hose down the horses before the next ride. One of the grandsons had gone out into the hills to round up the rest of the horses since it was a larger group of 7 going out in the afternoon, and I went down to the paddock area with him to collect the horses and bring them up to the barn to rinse off. I helped them tack up and they let me ride Mariposa again, telling me that since I'd been on the trails this morning I could lead the way (little did they realize my sense of direction is nonexistent).

This time, I went out with a different son, Carlos, his niece Catalina (15) and her brother (10). Carlos told me that if I wanted to go faster I could follow the trail to the top of the mountain like we had in the morning and just hang out there for the rest of them. So I galloped off through the field and found what I thought was the trail where the forest begins. I found myself face to face with a rather well-endowed bull and didn't like the look of his sharp curved horns, so I turned around and found another trail opening. I followed that all the way up and did end up at the top, but in a completely different hill than the one we were on in the morning. So I explored a little until I eventually heard the voices of the rest of the group and then made my way through the trees until I caught back up with them. We made our way back to the original lookout, and dismounted to walk around for a little bit and snap some pictures.

Being a daredevil. Had to try it myself. Catalina and her horse Paloma.

When we were ready to make our way back to the stable, Carlos told me I could go ahead of the group again and so I spent the last hour of our ride alone in the Monteverde countryside watching the sun slowly dip behind the mountains. I stopped and hopped off Mariposa to sit alongside her when we got past the wooded trail that makes up the upper portion of the mountain, and met the lush green fields at it's base. I could continue to describe my experience sitting there alone with the horse using a plethora of cheesy, feel-good adjectives, but for the sake of time (and embarrassment) I will just sum it up as one of the most peaceful, powerful moments of my stay in Costa Rica so far.

When we all arrived back at the stable, the rest of the family was again waiting to greet us and ensure we had a good ride. Carlos told me I was welcome to stay the night with his family, but of course I'd already paid for that night at the hostel. He said if I wanted I could give him a call the next day and come back to stay over Sunday night. The van took us back to our respective hostels and I woke up Sunday morning early to make the hike to San Luis Waterfall .

Ronnie, our hostel's owner, had told us that it was best to take a taxi as far as it could go towards the waterfall and then hike the rest of the way in, because the road was way too steep for a comfortable walk. Of course you know how I feel about taxi drivers, and now that I'm too cheap to pay for a public bus, nevermind a taxi, so we stuck with our plan to walk there. The road was ridiculously steep, true to Ronnie's word, and I began to fear the walk uphill back in the afternoon. Nonetheless, it offered some gorgeous views of the surrounding area. After paying our $8 entrance fee (what a ripoff), we finally arrived at the waterfall about 2 1/2 hours after we left. The water was frigid but crystal clear, and drinkable. We lasted about 6 minutes in the swiming hole at its base before jumping out with goosebumps. After a lunch of bread, butter cookies, and waterfall water, we started our return back. We met up with a woman from Switzerland who had also hiked there from Santa Elena, and were walking along the road with her when a Tico in an empty tourismo van pulled up alongside us and asked if we wanted a ride. We eagerly jumped in and had a nice conversation with him while the van struggled up the mountain road. He drove us all the way back to our hostel, asking for nothing other than that we enjoy the rest of our stay in Monteverde.

I called Carlos when we returned and he told me that he could have the van pick me up at 7 that evening. When I arrived back at the stable, all the family was once more there to greet me. Carlos and his 8 year old son took me out behind their house into the forest to look for tarantulas, and we definitely found our fair share of them. Many were as big as a palm with fingers spread out. We also saw a couple kinds of small monkeys and a whole bunch of Sapos (basically huge bullfrogs/toads). Carlos' wife insisted on serving me some dinner, even though I'd told her I already ate. The fish was delicious, although I have a good feeling it was one of the pretty orange and golden ones I saw swimming in their little pond the day before. After dinner I ended up talking with Carlos until about 11:30, and it felt great to be able to carry on a conversation for so long, as well as listen to his stories about how things in Monteverde used to be before the tourists came.

Early Monday morning (early as in 3:15 a.m.) I woke up to the cockadoodledoo of a rooster maybe 2 feet from my window. I would almost have preferred him to be cockadoodledooing right on the foot of my bed, so that I could dropkick him through the window into the street. Anyway, I finally got out of bed at 5 when Carlos went to go bring the cows into the barn for the morning milking. He doesn't have too many, maybe 20 in all, but it turns out he sells the milk to the Monteverde Cheese Factory, which sends a truck by each morning to pick that day's milk up. There are 5 calfs, one of which is only 6 days old (the dog is licking the milk off this one's face in the picture). He brings the cows in first and lines them up and then one by one lets the calfs begin suckling to get the milk flowing, then pulls the calf off so that he can start milking. "Necesita apprender," he said, and promptly placed the little milking stool that looked like it was straight off the set of Little House on the Prarie in front of me. After watching him make streams of milk fly into the bucket with more force than a powersoaker, I sat myself down and grabbed hold, thinking it wouldn't be too hard. Boy, was I wrong. I lasted maybe 3 minutes of making a pathetic stream of milk and then had to stop to shake off the cramping in my hand. Anyway, it was a really cool (albeit embarrassing) experience, and Carlos told me that I need to come back to learn to do it as fast as him so he can sleep in later.

After we were done with the cows, we turned them back into pasture and went back to the house for a delicious breakfast of freshly-gathered eggs and gallo pinto. I went with Carlos' son into the garden to pick some carrots and ayote for lunch, and then he headed off to school at 7. Carlos and his wife took me to his brother's house (the brother who led my first ride in the morning) down the road, where I met up with Catalina and her brothers again. They showed me around the property, which included a stop at what turned out to be a cockfighting ring (left). They told me they have a fight about once every 15 days, and that lots of tourists come to watch. I wasn't quite sure what to say, because obviously I wasn't impressed, and I was especially surprised to hear Carlos' brother describe the fight as "muy lindo". Nevertheless, Carlos suggested that his brother and 2 nephews hop into the ring for a picture, and there you have it.

After returning to the stable, we waited while Carlos' nephew went out to round up the horses. We went down to get 3 and saddled them up and Carlos, his nephew, and I went on another ride up the road. We came across what I believe is their bull, and he had broken through the barbed wire fence and was just hanging out alongside the road when we found him. Carlos and the boy proceeded to herd the massive creature back up the rode and into another pasture, and then we dismounted to fix the wire that had been broken away. The ride itself one of the most tranquil I've been on, with views of the mountains and farmland in all directions. When we returned to the stable Carlos' wife had made us lunch, which included chicken that was clucking around the day before. The meat was pretty tough but the sauce it was cooked in was delicious.
The bull: an intimidating but relatively lazy beast.
After lunch, I walked with Carlos next door to his aunt's house to say hello before I left to catch the bus back to San Jose. A stout little woman with a bright blue dress and bandanna, she ushered me right into her living room to sit down and make myself comfortable. I honestly had to stop and think for a moment whether or not I'd met this woman before somewhere; she was so happy that I stopped in that I could have been her own granddaughter. Before I left, she asked me if I liked sweets. Before I could respond she went into the fridge and pulled out what looked like a block of brown sugar, only solid. She handed me a knife and instructed me to cut off as much as I liked. When I shaved off a quarter-sized piece, she shook her head and told me to take more. So I shaved off another quarter-piece. Apparently it wasn't enough, for she then came over, took the knife and started shaving the stuff like a madwoman until there was a pile on the table about the size of baseball. I couldn't believe that this little woman is 91 years old! Anyway, I eventually made my way out, with her blessing to me and all my family and friends, and found Carlos waiting by the car to take me back to Monteverde center to the bus stop. When I hopped in I soon realized that it wasn't just Carlos taking me back, but also his sister, newphew, mother (who had changed into a dress for her trip into town) and wife, and all squeezed into the back seat. We said our goodbyes and I thanked them for everything; the grandmother thanked me for giving her a reason to put on her "nice dress", and hoped I'd come back soon. Before I stepped out of the car, Carlos told me that I know had 2 families in Costa Rica to come back to, and I truly feel that I do.