The difference between nuts and maps

One of our destinations was the Monteverde region or otherwise known as the cloud forest. This region has the most fickle and at the same time the most beautiful climate. As you drive up to the mountains you are surrounded by fog and you feel that pouring rain will be coming down any minute. It will not, because as you start going back down the winding road the sun starts shining. The most eye catching rainbow opens in front of you and follows in front of you for the rest of your drive.

I should note here that most of Costa Rica does not use proper addresses. As I later found out from one of the locals, the post man delivers a letter or a package according to something like this: "100 meters North from Cafe San Pedro, then 200 meters south to the second house on the left with two trees in the front." No kidding! And so our Costa Rican GPS could not even recognize the town where our hotel was located, so we had to call for directions, which consisted of something similar to the above address.

Later, we had a laugh with the owner of the hotel who we befriended (Rustic Lodge)who gave us the directions and a word of caution. The following conversation ensued:

"You told us not to buy nuts from anyone. What´s in the nuts?"
"What nuts?"
"The nuts that you told us not to take from anyone when you gave us directions to the hotel."
"I told you nuts?"
"Yes."
"No, I said don´t buy any maps!"

We had a big laugh about that as we were later dining with the owner at one of the local starting out restaurants, El Olivo Restaurant. It is an almost family business (the guy´s girlfriend´s mother was the cook) and it was one of the most delicious meals we´ve ever had, despite the menu consisting of only 3 different choices: fish, beef or chicken.

The most memorable personal moment ensued in this region during our canopy tours and zip lining. Sliding 1KM at the height of 100 meters (at approximately 60 kph) can only be compared to what I would imagine to be the flight of a bird. I was at a loss of words to describe the feeling that you get as you glide through the air with a bird at your side just a few feet away.

The bird probably smirked at me and thought "Loco touristos." And I wouldn´t blame her. It was the craziest and most thrilling experience that makes you feel alive. It was an unprecedented sense of freedom.

Ad of the day was:

Canopy + trams = tranopy

90 mountains high

"This is awesome!" exclaimed Slava with the excitement of a teenager after svooshing down the waterslide in the Tabacon Hot Springs resort near the Arenal Volcano, the most active volcano in the world.

The flowing water ranges from cold to hot and flows down a number of black stones, big and small. Some massage your feet in knee deep pools as you make your way to the many mini waterfalls. Others serve as a seating area behind a glass of water flowing down on you. This way you can poke your head out into the air, as if behind a curtain, or stick out your feet and arms as entertainment for the photos.

The first realization that I was in Costa Rica came on the middle of the highest hanging bridge as it swayed at 90+ mts (Mts = mountains for our bunch, or meters for the rest of the world) above the trees, the hills, the animals, the reptiles and other tourists. This was also our first introduction to the green, moist, cool and humid rainforest.

The warning sign before entering the park indicated that we should speak in LOW voices, as to not scare the animals. With our bunch it was an impossibility and we were shushed a few times by the other groups with actual guides pointing to a plant here and an animal there. We must have missed a dozen "Wow look it´s a sloth."

Seriously though, animals are not stupid. If they even hear someone walking they will not be making their apppearance. They are kind of like the celebrities, the ones that want to be seen will be seen, and will aproach no matter how many papparazzis are around. Unlike many fellow tourists we did not have binoculors or high powered photo lenses. We just had a regular old camera to pose with hair looking leaves, or to zoom in on something that almost looks like a back of a bird or an animal. Mostly we just entertained ourselves with funny looking faces and sexy poses.

The word of the day was:

Битка = битва

Using it in a sentence:
Подожди, тут битка между муравьями за листик.

Spiderman here I come!

Waterfall rappeling should not be confused with bug repelling. The former is an activity for humans. The latter, well actually it is also an activity for humans but it is less fun. It can be fun for the bugs as they are rappelling down the human body. Down and up in some cases. But enough about that.

Waterfall rappeling is like doing half of mountain climbing. You are conveniently driven to the very top of the first waterfall (the were five declines total: 4 waterfalls and 1 dry wall). And then you just swoosh down.

The best part was being mostly in control of your body and your speed. So theoratically you can get as wet or as dry as you wish. So I chose to be very wet on the front and very wet on the back, with just a small dry spot on my behind. Seriously that was done on purpose as I tried to look cool and look like I know what I'm doing--spreading my legs apart exactly as I was told (imagine spiderwoman), holding my right hand, my control hand, just below my hip a few inches away from it.

I have a sneaky suspicion, however, that I had absolutely no control after all, as the spotters from the top and the bottom would not let me try out my spiderman jumps. Imagine, this could have been my audition video to the Spiderman musical on Broadway. There must be a good reason why they're postponing the show -- they are waiting for me!

The word of the day was:
Прикопчать = прикрепить
:)))

A room with a view...

The anticipated journey began.

We were eager to get to Costa Rica, and so approximately one and a half hour before the scheduled arrival time we began getting together our bags from the overhead storage and lining up near the emergency entrance door. For some reason the flight attendants looked to us with fear, but some of the other passengers decided they were no worse, and began to prepare their bags as well.

JUST KIDDING! It never happened, but we had a great big laugh about that possibility.

We were excitedly chatting about all the possible activities that Costa Rica has to offer. Things we´ve only read or only heard about from our peers. The onlookers from neighboring passport control lines were eagerly eavesdropping on our conversation. Although once in a while there was a look of confusion as every one of us would inadvertently drop-in a russian word or two or three into the conversation.

V´s orange was sadly confiscated at Customs, however the extra Cherry Hill bought sandwiches have made it through, only to be thrown out a little while later because we were anticipatingly deciding where could a group of 8 go to eat in San Jose on a Monday night at 9 o'clock in the evening.

The young lady at the front desk was most helpful in recommending a local food place nearby. She was also apprehensively laughing at our jokes. It must be a culture thing.

On a swift ride to San Jose´s busiest 24-hour joint, Tapia, the cab ride was a $2 fare (2 cabs, 8 people, roughly 0.50 cents a person and that is with a generous tip.) Our food, a classic midnight snacker was full of fries, plantaines, a burger, fish nuggets, sandwich special with everything on earth on it, a grilled chicken with rice and beans (supposedly the localest) and a mountain of colorful ice cream scoops decorated with fruit. Let´s not forget a round or two of Imperial beer. All in all the almost midnight snack was a success for a whopping 33,420 of local currency (a value approximated at $8/person).

The night was complete as we pretended for a second that we were in Mexico, roughly in the late 90s. Annie Lenox, Smashing Pumpkins, Robbie Williams and TATU filled the sound background from a local music channel. S was hurriedly cutting limes with a plastic knife on top of a plastic bag, after S2 and J1 had mysteriously obtained them and salt. J2´s purchase of tequila at the duty free back in JFK did not go to waste.

This morning I woke up to a lovely view of a simple garden enclosed for the viewing pleasure of the patrons of this cozy (=tiny) room. I suspect, however, that other patrons in other rooms have similar views. Hotel Grano de Oro is lovely, but in an isolated location. The staff is super friendly and helpful. We will be here again on our last night in Costa Rica, with plans to dine at the best restaurant in San Jose.

Today off to the hot springs and the volcano!

Up, up, and away...

Why is it, that the day before or a few hours before one is scheduled to go on vacation, a panic ensues?

There is this sudden eerie feeling that I forgot something. Worse, the feeling is that I forgot a lot of somethings. May be even close to a million somethings. This includes replying to someone's email, thanking someone for the good times had at an engagement party during the past weekend, or letting someone else know that I will be sporadically unavailable for the next week or so, because I am traveling outside of the country.

There is also this urge to set an "Away Message" for your personal email. Seriously, everyone that should know you'll be away, already knows. And those few that may not, they will either not find out, until you get back and email blast everyone your vacation pics, or if they do need you, you can always respond back via email. I am not going to Mars after all.

I will soon be buckling my seatbelt on a flight to San Jose, Costa Rica and exploring all the goodies of Costa Rica with another A, two Js, three S's and a V. My hope is that I will have the energy and the internet connection to do daily updates of our adventures.

Bug repellant, check. Old sneakers, check. Red nail polish, check. Passport, check. A smile on my face, check. OK I think I'm ready for Costa Rica.


Tootles....and HOLA!

The car almost hit him.

A chilly, but sunny morning awoke a wave of urbanites hurrying on their various ways to work. If the man on the sidewalk swayed an inch forward... If the car swerved to avoid a pothole... If the wind blew away the page... More importantly, if I hesitated to reach out…

This would turn out to be one tragic morning. (Not something I would be able to brag about on Facebook). I would have never forgiven myself. I would have blamed myself for not stopping him. A fatal mistake.

The excuse – it would be awkward, wouldn’t it? Reaching out to a total stranger in a big, grand city of millions of faces? Extending your hand and actually touching a stranger? Unheard of? Just the thought of this awkwardness makes me say: “What has the world come to?” Yet it has, come to this.

I was almost responsible for this man’s life. He was/is a total stranger. A New Yorker. A pedestrian. A husband? A father? An architect?

I hesitated to warn him that he should step back from the approaching wave of cars. Fortunately for all, the cards passed uneventfully. The side view mirror may have been an inch away from his face, as he was reading the paper. It could have been a foot away, but looked like an inch. Either way I almost reached out. Either way I didn’t.

‘Almost’ is such a powerful word because when you hear it, whatever comes after it comes true to life in your imagination. But yet, it is a false prelude. It has the power to drastically change whatever it was meant to introduce. It can minimize significance or magnify a minute nature. It instantly lets you sympathize or smile of joy.

Within an instant the realization comes that whatever was implied to have happened, never did. Yet we usually sigh in relief that something “almost” happened.

Almost does count. It should. Sometimes.