Costa Rica Day 2: Ants Marching

We sleep well in the big four poster bed and wake up excited for our day.  Breakfast buffet is exceptional with amazing attention to detail.  Café con leche served in a French press, honey dripping straight from the hive in a contraption made to do just that. 

Dressed for a hike, we drive about 15 minutes to Ecocentro Danaus, a private ecological preserve.  About 25% of Costa Rica is preserved by the government and another 15% is now preserved by private entities, restoring once devastated lands to natural habitat and encouraging responsible ecotourism.  We are paired with Amanda, our guide for this morning.  She explains that this park is only 20 years old, the land having been restored after being virtually clear cut.  We would have never guessed the forest is lush and dense.  She has powerful binoculars hanging from her neck and explains the species that we’re likely to see.  Five minutes in Amanda points out a long line of leaf cutter ants, each ant carrying a chunk of green many times larger then themselves.  She explains that the line can go on for several kilometers as the ants insist on a certain type of leaf and have very high quality standards.  She goes on to explain that the ants don’t eat the leaves but emulsify them and use them to feed a mushroom they grow for food.  “Damned industrious farming” I think to myself as Dave Mathews’ Ants Marching plays in my head.  She points out other exotic plants and features and we head into the butterfly preserve, netted space designed to raise local species before setting them loose into the world.  Great colors and lots of fun. 

I’ve upped my lens game for the trip, buying a high-quality zoom for my DSLR, one of the grey ones you see on the sidelines of football games.  I’m hoping to put it to good use, and I don’t have to wait long.  As we approach the pond, we spot a boat billed heron perched on a log by the water’s edge.  The lens is fast and bright, performing just as I had hoped, capturing great images in the cloud filtered light.  Amanda points up, high in a nearby tree at what appears to be a furry brown and white pillow.  Focused in, he’s a big three toed sloth, just slothing there in his branch.  Around the other side of the pond we spot more herons, this time a mother in a nest with two chicks.  Already the lens is worth it.  With Amanda’s help, we shoot an amazing array of plants and animals and get a good understanding of the place we are in.  Amanda is excited and almost speechless as she spots a bespectacled owl, a rare get in these parts and only the second time she has ever seen one.  Click, click, click, click as we take tons of exposures.  As we are leaving, we see that the sun has burned off the clouds and we get a rare opportunity to see the entirety of Arenal Volcano.

Headed back towards the hotel, we stop for lunch then head into the Ecothermales, one of the many hot springs in the area.  The same chamber that caused the volcano to erupt in the 1500s and again in 1968 now serves to heat some of the springs to 122F.  In some places the springs are nothing but warm rivers, in others entire resorts have been developed around them.  Ecothermales is one of the more quiet of these places, with 6 or 7 pools, each running into the next and getting a little cooler as they get further from the source.  We start at the coolest and work our way up, only lasting in the hottest for a few minutes.  A brisk dip under a cool waterfall brings our body temperatures and heart rates back closer to normal.

Back at the resort, dinner is at Asia Luna, an Asian/Latin fusion restaurant.  We purposely pick the most fusion dishes, including the Kani roll, a crab sushi topped with grilled plantain.  The flavors mix amazingly well.  Tired muscles and good wine make the for a great night’s sleep.

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Costa Rica Day 1: A Long Day of Travel or Gold at the End of the Rainbow

COSTA RICA DAY 1: A LONG DAY OF TRAVEL or GOLD AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW

In Las Vegas, there is a legendary “Black List” of card counter and cheats, those never again allowed into any casino.  If such a list exists among car rental agencies, I’m sure we’ve now made that fabled status.  But I get ahead of my self…

COSTA RICA DAY 1: A LONG DAY OF TRAVEL or GOLD AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW

Fortunately, Saturday’s predicted snow never materialized.  But they certainly got the forecast right for Sunday, temperatures falling from 45F to just 3F in a matter of hours.  We have a direct flight out of EWR Monday morning so to avoid the drive, we camp out in the airport Marriott.  Not bad for an airport hotel, freshly renovated.  Besides, Since I’ve known Mandy, I’ve been promising to take her to dinner in the Ironbound section of Newark. 

The Ironbound section, so named for the city’s long-gone metalworking industry and the industrial revolution era buildings with cast iron facades, is a blue-collar melting pot with an amazing restaurant scene.  Most notable are the Portuguese restaurants and bakeries, a true foodie destination long before “foodie” was a thing.  An early Sunday dinner at The Spanish Tavern is on today’s schedule.  The restaurant is unapologetically traditional with smartly dressed and very professional waiters.  The menu is largely unchanged since the 1930s, the family deciding to perfect their dishes over the decades instead of chasing culinary trends. And perfect they did.   For Mandy’s first meal here we keep with the classics.  Paella, lamb chops and a big plastic pitcher of Sangria.  The paella is loaded with fresh seafood and succulent sausage, served in a big pot over saffron rice.  A single order would have been dinner enough for two with plenty for lunch the next day.  The lamb chops were sublime, simply done with salt over an open flame.  The Sangria, loaded with fruit but not too sweet, is the only way to go.  We sit among the large families and hipsters, feeling lucky that such a place still exists.

We wake early and shuttle to Terminal C.  Easy check-in and security despite the shut-down.  Newark airport is pretty bad by any standards but showing sign of improvement.  United has renovated the entire terminal, so food offerings vastly improved and virtually every chair has its own tablet and charging station.  The flight is an uneventful 5 hours non-stop to Libera, Costa Rica.  We land to a delightful 90F and breezy and sail through baggage and customs to rental car. 

Our little Suzuki SUV is very basic and perfectly adapted to the place.  About 45 minutes in we hit Canas, the first major town down Route 1.  We make a left onto a shopping street, basic concrete buildings joined with no particular theme and mostly homemade signs.  Hungry and in search of an authentic experience, we stop at a tiny eatery, drawn in by the fried chicken and crispy plantain strips in the front window case.  The place has exactly four mismatched tables, each with equally mismatched chairs.  Time to break out our international language skills… wait, we still have none.  We order the pollo (we do know that much) and some other dish from the delightful (and patient!) woman we assume to be the owner as she’s pretty much the only person working there.  We find our table, not hard as there are only two unoccupied.  First round is thighs, cut into chunks, breaded and fried.  Crunchy and juicy and very satisfying.  We see two men at another table drinking a brightly colored juice and pantomime to the owner.  She brings two big glasses of freshly squeezed pineapple juice.  Mmmmmmm, this country is working out just fine so far.  A man walks in with a little girl, we assume the owner’s husband and daughter based on the speed with which the girls invades the woman’s handbag to dig out the iPad.  Our last dish also features fried chicken, this time a whole breast (told you we couldn’t read Spanish), served with rice, black beans and delicious pickled tomato salad.  The bill, a whopping $12USD.  A little coaxing for a few pictures and we’re down the road.

Or should I say up the road. Or around the road.  We’re headed deep into the rainforest, which involves mountain passes and less-then-paved surfaces.  Readers of our past entries have already guessed this means nothing good for our rental car.  After an hour, we turn off the main highway.  There are chunks of the secondary roads which spontaneously turn into loose, rutted gravel, bouncing contents and passengers off the ceiling.  Just two more hours to go.  Almost to the top of the first mountain we come across the largest wind farm I have ever seen, maybe hundreds of turbines slowly turning in the hot winds, large herds of cows grazing happily unaware in the fields below.  The juxtaposition of the modern and the ancient, technology and nature, is not lost on us.  A light rain begins, bringing out the widest rainbow we have ever seen.  It stays with us for a full hour, much of the time where we can see both ends. 

Down the other side of the mountain we approach Lake Arenal, the biggest in the country.  Route 142 skirts the north side of the lake with terrifying blind curves up and down the steep inclines.  When the road is good, it’s good.  When the road is bad, we think the suspension is going to come through the floorboards.

We arrive at our resort around dusk, gold at the end of the rainbow.  Our long day of travel rewarded with kind reception, warm face towels scented with vanilla and mint and a fruity rum drink.  The lobby is beautiful, natural woods, local art and plenty of exotic tropical flowers.  Our villa is stunning, an octagon of about 1000 square feet with equally beautiful indoor and outdoor showers.  Sliding doors lead to a porch which wraps around three sides, the dense jungle preventing us from seeing any other villas and carefully cut, just a little, to present a view of Arenal Volcano.   The porch is big enough to feature a hot tub, a pair of oversized chairs, a two-person hammock and a small dining table, and still feel spacious.  Not cheap, but very reasonable considering Conde Nast rates as the top resort in Central and South America.

Light dinner is in order, so we sit at the wine bar and order some tapas.  The staff is genuinely friendly, the little dishes presented beautifully.  A lovely ending to an adventurous day.

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Italy Day 14 – Finé

It’s our last day, and we start the morning in the most remarkable, most ordinary way.  We start our morning at “our” neighborhood bar.  Mamma greets us like family, like she greets everyone who walks in.  Mandy gets a fresh OJ with her morning cappuccino.  It’s a simple place, a simple ritual, a simple pleasure.  A smile, a ciao!, a few euros and we’re on our way. 

We have a scheduled tour of the Coliseum.  Friends who visited recommended a guide “because otherwise it’s just a pile of rocks”.  It was good advice and we tour with a group of just 12.  We were in another ancient coliseum in France last year (watching a live bullfight!), but this one is 3 or 4 times the size.  Our guide really was great at pointing out details we would have otherwise missed which gave us better feel of the lives of the people in the place at times through history. 

Our group merges with another and we walk across the street to the Forum.  I had no idea what to expect (I missed history class that day), but I definitely was not expecting a working archeological site.  I just figured it’s all been discovered by now.  After all, the city has been in continuous use for thousands of years, so how much of it could they lose track of?  I mean, Philly has been around since 1682, and we haven’t lost Broad Street, have we?  They are building a new subway stop near the Coliseum “and it’s taking forever.  Every time they dig down another 5 meters, they run into another civilization.”  It is estimated that only 30% of Roman ruins have been uncovered, so it’s still a very exciting place for archeologists and for us watching their methodical work.  

The two tours, along with the last 13 days, have left us happily spent.  We head back to Campo Di Fiori, the busy market square near our hotel, for lunch.  Each of the restaurants lining the square has their own front-man, a hawker who addresses passersbys trying to earn their business.  We’ve gotten good at ignoring them, but one is especially engaging and funny and draws us in.  The food on the tables looks good and they don’t have the tacky picture menus we have learned to stay away from.  We get a front row table to continue watching the show.  The Hawker really knows how to work people, and does so seamlessly in several languages, approaching couples and groups with ease and with humor.  Mandy decides he must be my long lost cousin, so at one point I get up to help him reel in a few more patrons.  Lunch, by the way was delicious. 

We wander through Piazza Navona, just strolling to get the most of our final afternoon.  One last gelato, this one at Le Gelateria Frigidarium, the high-water mark for gelato even in this town.  On a whim, we wander into the baroque Church of Sant’Agnese in Agone.  At this point, we’re kinda churched-out, but something draws us in.  We are stunned.  We have seen some spectacular cathedrals in our travels and even the Sistine Chapel just yesterday.  This one is breathtaking, the detail, the work, the dome, the colors.  Simply incredible.  We sit and take it in.  Even unplanned, chill days here end up being a nonstop highlight reel. 

Later that evening, we wander back to Piazza Navona for dinner at La Pace Del Palato.  It’s an intimate place, mom running the front of house and dad cooking in the back.  The food is simple.  Simple and perfect.  Big glasses of the house red beautifully cut the tangy sauce and sharp cheese.  We stroll the piazza, intentionally slowly, savoring our last night like we did the wine.  We stop for a nightcap at Cyba, a jazz bar with a cool vibe.  The three piece combo plays instrumentals of old standards, a fitting soundtrack to our Roman Holiday closing credits. 

It’s hard for find the superlatives to describe the experience of touring Italy.  This was Mandy’s first trip here, so it was great to be able to experience it for the first time – through her eyes – all over again.

Italy Day 13 – Michael, Michelangelo and Nino

We sleep in exhausted from yesterday’s travels and exploring.  Walking in Rome takes some getting used to because nearly all of the streets and alleys we encountered are paved with cobblestones.  These charming three-inch square stones are spaced almost an inch apart and form an uneven surface over a randomly sunken base.  Difficult for me to walk on in loafers or sneakers and damned treacherous for Mandy in anything like a fashionable woman’s shoe.  The residents of Rome generally have the same love/hate relationship with the cobbles which make pushing a stroller nearly impossible and slipping in wet weather nearly inevitable.  For us newbies, it just causes additional wear to our overworked feet.

We have a light breakfast at Café Peru, a neighborhood bar (coffee shop) catering to the neighbors.  Mama waits on the patrons at the counter and squeezes the OJ fresh for each order.  Her son expertly makes the caffe, a perfect heart on top of Mandy’s cappuccino.  Neither speaks much English, but I wield my 17 words of Italian like a pro to order a ham and cheese panini and even get it cut in half.  OK, so there was a bunch of finger pointing and shoulder shrugging, too, but hey, mission complete.  We watch a constant stream of locals stop in for a quick fix, nearly all of them addressed by name.  This is our kinda place. 

Our first destination today is a tour of Castel Sant’Angelo.  It’s a massive primitive round structure surrounded by an actual moat.  Built around 139AD as the Mausoleum of Hadrian, it has served as a military fortress, safe house for the Pope, and even as the Vatican prison.  Over the centuries, most of the original marble veneer has been looted leaving the current unbecoming exterior.  The place is massive, and we really love the statue of the Archangel Michael who reportedly appeared atop the mausoleum sheathing his sword to signal the end of the plague of 590AD. 

We have lunch in Borgo Pio, the medieval neighborhood just east of the Vatican.  The Borgo (as we his friends call him), offers a lively afternoon scene and proves that it’s really easy to find a good restaurant in Rome. 

Next stop: the Vatican.  Mandy prepurchased timed tickets for the fabled Vatican Museum and Sistine Chapel.  I’m a recovering Catholic – they say you’re never really cured – as I made a conscious decision to leave the church many years ago.  So going to the Vatican is a mixed bag for me.  The museum is absolutely massive impossible to see in a single day, but Mandy has done some research and has specific galleries she wants to see.  The Egyptian galleries are fascinating, with mummies of sovereigns displayed with their Tut-like sarcophagus.  The tapestries gallery is especially engrossing, and we cannot imagine the talent required to hand make these huge works out of thread with the detail of a single hair paintbrush.  We did not realize that the maps in the map gallery were actually painted on the wall and used to locate the churches throughout the country like pins on a GPS map. 

Of course, the highlight of the visit is the Sistine Chapel, but not how we expected it.  Like most, when we thought of Michelangelo’s masterpiece, we pictured The Creation of Adam, God’s outstretched hand reaching out to the first man.  I imagined this feature to be huge and prominent.  While it is in the center of the chapel, it is just one feature in a very complex work.  Apparently, Michelangelo set out to paint the history of the world leading up to the coming of Jesus, and God’s creation of man is just one vignette in this multifaceted picture story.  In its entirety, it is a bit overwhelming, so Mandy and I find seats along the edge of the chapel and just take it in for a while.  It has been a long day.  Trying to find our way out, we stumble into the Gallery of the Popemobiles.  OK, I’m sure it’s called something else, but that’s what it is.  From the Papal Carriage to the Papal VW, all the greats are here. 

Walking home, we stop for a gelato on Borgo Pio.  Gelato is huge here, and Mandy insists on finding the small batch artisan kind, not the massed produced stuff.  The fig-and-waffle was out of this world.  Almost back to the hotel, and really into the rhythm of Rome, we stop back at Café Peru for a quick caffe.  Mama knows us by now and greets us with a welcoming smile.  Loaded with sugar and caffeine, we do what comes naturally.  Nap. 

Dinner is at Nino, just off the Piazza di Spagna and near the Spanish Steps.  Nino has been an “it” restaurant for decades in Rome, a place to see and be seen.  The restaurant lives up to its hype by remaining true to its Tuscan roots.  While the wine list is extensive, we order the house red which is served in juice glasses, of course.  We close the night with the Via Del Corso Stroll from the Spanish Steps to Trevi Fountain.  The Trevi Fountain was beautiful during the day, but even more stunning by night. 

Italy Day 12 – Road to Rome

We’re packed and ready early, caffe at the bar with the commuters.  This morning we’re joining those commuters on the ferry to Naples.  This high speed hydrofoil makes the run across the Bay of Naples in just 40 minutes, and this is our first time on a vessel like this.  Here’s what we learned.  Unlike a boat with a standard hull, the hydrofoil rides on top of the water instead of cutting through it.  That means in today’s big swells the front of the boat is rising and falling about nine feet at a time, over and over and over and over.  Add that pit-of-your-stomach roller coaster feeling each time and this was not the experience we were hoping for.  I look around and realize a few things.  1) The back of the boat is bouncing way less than the front of the boat.  2) We are in the very front of the boat.  3) Those smart commuters are in the back of the boat, unaffected.  4) Mandy is turning funny colors.  My engineering education has not gone to waste as proven by our decision to change seats.  The rest of the ride is mercifully uneventful.

Docking in Naples, we wrestle our bags to the line at the taxi stand.  Cab scams are rampant in Naples, and our driver loads us and another couple headed for the airport into a cab together.  Only problem is we are headed for the train station.  Cabbie thinks he’s slick as he “accidently” throws his hat over the meter.  I open my door and step out, negotiate a flat rate to the station and demand to be dropped off first.  Once we’re settled, he turns out to be an excellent driver. 

About driving in Italian cities.  At first glance it appears to be total chaos, but there’s a rhythm to it, a flow, a hierarchy.  When we commented on the crazy motorbike drivers to our driver to Sorrento. she explained that “we all buy those bikes so we can weave through traffic”.  It’s expected.  Our cab driver will make illegal U-turns, but will yield to any bike trying to squeeze through.  So the hierarchy goes like this:  The busses and trucks let the cars slip through.  The cars let the scooters and bicycles slip through.  And pedestrians are king and everybody comes to a stop for them.  It’s way less crazy once we understood.

The high-speed train to Rome is peaceful sanity.  The first thing we see as we disembark are three lingerie shops including Victoria’s Secret.  Not sure what they were expecting on the train, but I’m willing to take another ride and find out.  We cab it to Hotel Indigo on Via Giulia.  It’s a swank boutique in a very cool section of town.  I should thank my travel agent, so I decide to buy her lunch.

We head to Campo de’ Fiori, a square ringed with restaurants and the market filling the interior.  Lunch is a yummy affair in an outdoor café involving a calzone like pizza, squash blossoms, rocket salad with cherry tomatoes (rocket = arugula) and of course daydrinks.  We check our hotel map and decide we can walk to something called Piazza della Rotonda.  We get there and wonder what the big old building with the columns is and wonder why so many people are looking at it.  I check the sign.  Oh, it’s just the Pantheon.  Rome is like that.  You just wander down the street and trip over the 8^th Wonder of the Ancient world. 

The famed Trevi Fountain is only a few minute walk from here, so we set that as our next destination.  Sometimes when something is so famous it can’t possibly live up to the expectations.  I’ve seen the massive animated fountains in Vegas.  I’ve walked in the best fountains in Paris.  Turns out, this one is by far my favorite.  The scale is massive, 160’ across and 86’ high, it’s the entire width of the square bearing its name.  It’s also a creative marvel.  Instead of being a fountain in a tub in the middle of the square, it’s seamlessly integrated into the façade of the palace behind it.  Architecture and sculpture, water and stone, nature and man, power and tranquility.  Well, tranquility may be a stretch, as the place is mobbed. 

It seems we’ve accidently started the Heart of Rome Walk, so we continue onward.  Next stop is coffee at Gran Café in Piazza Di Pietra, right across from the Temple of Hadrian, a huge Roman temple façade with 11 massive columns.  It was built in 145AD in dedication to Hadrian, the first man of non-nobile lineage to rule the Roman Empire.  We head to Castel Sant’Angelo but are stopped in our tracks by yet another massive and beautiful structure. This one is not a museum or palace, but the Palace of Justice, the working home of the Italian Supreme Court.  We had to read the sign to figure out this one, too.  Like I said, Rome is just like that.  We loop back to the hotel, feet exhausted.

Rome, like Philly, is a city of neighborhoods.  Mandy has a few specific neighborhoods she wants to explore and tonight it’s Trastevere.  A bohemian area with a lively night scene, virtually every bar offers a happy hour where for about 10€ you can get a drink and munch off the buffet.  Needless to say, this area is flocked with students and young working professionals from late afternoon to late evening.  We dine at Taverna Trilussa, a century old joint decorated with a dizzying variety of prosciutto and cheeses.  After our meat and cheese sampler appetizer, I get the traditional Carbonara (the best we have had) and Mandy gets their specialty Ravioli Mimosa, a secret recipe that tastes exactly as good as it sounds.  We stroll home through the energetic district taking in the sounds and sights of modern Rome in these ancient streets.