Hi! We got a pretty early start leaving Tulsa. Neither of us knows what time and it doesn’t really matter, yet still I natter on about it. We missed most of the roadside attractions we’d made note of. After looking them up on line, it just didn’t seem worth the time to traipse about Tulsa to find them. They weren’t that interesting. Meh.

We did manage to see the 50 foot tall Buddha on the way out. It’s on a large Vietnamese temple property. Very peaceful and a soft breeze easing us into the day’s journey.

There were lots of Buddhas: the Ascetic, the Warrior, Dancing Buddha…and more. Didn’t wander the entire property to name each one. My favorite is Homie Buddha. Do you think there is a relationship between gang signs and mudras?

As we are traveling blue highways we’re going through some smaller towns. It’s a great way to get a feel for life outside of cities and the rural areas. The lush, rolling hills and treed expanses are easy on the eyes and spirit. Rolling through Locust Grove, Oklahoma I spied an inviting coffee shop. We stepped into a party. It was the 95th birthday of a local veteran, Doogie or Doozie was his name. A young woman was interviewing him for posterity. He seemed shy at first, but then warmed up to the subject.

People were friendly, but no one offered us cake! The coffee was good, as was the atmosphere. The front half was coffee shop and the back half a bookstore. Coffee tins covered the canister lights. A ceramic cat on a shelf mimicked the often present bookstore cat. Part of an ancient windmill blade decorated a wall.

Next stop – Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, AR founded by Alice Walton. No admission fee. Quite an amazing collection. Too large for us to see it all in the limited time we had. Should have taken friend Liz’s advice to spend more time! But by then I already had an appointment scheduled for a massage in Eureka Springs that afternoon. So, fair warning – don’t make that mistake. A night in Bentonville would absolutely make sense.

Here are a few photos.

Made it to Eureka Springs in time for my massage – an hour late. Explanation: I thought the appointment was at 5, but it was 4. So thankful she waited for me. It was one of the best I’ve ever had.

That’s all I’ve got for tonight. Maybe tomorrow I’ll catch up so I’m not a day late.

Ciao. A bientôt. Hasta la próxima.

It’s been awhile so please bear with me as I get my jam back.

We left Albuquerque yesterday (9.7.21), heading for Tulsa, OK. A long drive so we didn’t stop except for gas and lunch at a rest area. On route i did see as sign painted on the side of a building outside of Amarillo: Joan Jett 4 Pres! Sure! And bring in the Black Hearts too. Might be an improvement.

Philbrook Museum

We spent hours at the Philbrook Museum today. The Philips family, oil pioneer Waite Philip and wife Genevieve, had it built in 1926, in the style of a grand Italian villa. After living there for 10 years they donated it to the city as a museum. It houses an extensive collection of art, modern and not. Painting, sculpture, video. A wondrous collection of southwestern Pueblo pottery. Native American art. A small room of African sculpture.

There are 25 acres of land to wander. We didn’t. Wander all 25 acres. But I did log 4 miles in the museum and on the grounds. I would love to visit again with kids. There’s an area of tree stumps and bricks and branches of various lengths and thicknesses for building. There’s a mud kitchen. A tree swing. An area for building an obstacle course using natural materials. Heaven.

Oh! And the log cabin with the magical interior! Just see the photos as they will illustrate the whimsy and playfulness if this space. No words necessary.

We also went to Oral Roberts University. It’s a beautiful, peaceful campus. We went into the prayer tower. The second floor has a round observation deck. The space is contemplative. There is a focused energy of belief, of love, of peace. It is a tower of power. I don’t mind saying that I cried there in the chapel. It took me by surprise. Sort of. I felt something stirring. I sat. The emotions welled up from within. I had a similar experience in Viana do Castelo, Portugal in the Santuario de Santa Luzia. Why cry in these places? Is it because they are the receptacles of so many hopes, prayers, gratitudes? On the wall of the chapel was a quote by Soren Kierkegaard: “A man prayed, and at first he thought that prayer was talking. But he became more and more quiet until in the end he realized prayer is listening.”

The mission of ORU is Developing whole leaders for the whole world. I didn’t take many photos of the campus. I didn’t think I could capture the futuristic design well. Here are a few anyway.

Until tomorrow, when I write about today…

Back in San Jose where the elevation is about 3500 feet, give or take, and the air is dry. Gone the humidity that is so kind to my skin and hair! Easing back into the desert. I noticed the climate change shortly after we left Puerto Viejo and began the steep climbing and falling through the Orosi Valley.

Speaking of driving this country with its steepness and curves, I recall my trepidation at first. Particularly in Arenal, the first place I dealt with that – and in the driving rain. After my first day I went to bed and dreamt of driving those roads and felt the movement in my body. After a few days in Arenal and driving to and from La Fortuna and other areas along that same road, my confidence was bouyed. I never had much of an issue with anywhere I drove, though I maintained a healthy respect for the terrain. Ed was a great co-pilot, too, as far as navigating, reading the map, giving directions. Since when we are together in a car, he is usually the driver, it was a challenge for him not to give a running commentary: “40 kph” “let this car pass” “let this guy through” “not that lane!” “speed up” slow down” “open the window” No. I’m just going overboard. Given that I was driving a car that is probably three times the size of my little Kia Spectra, I mostly appreciated the warnings and directives. Mostly. Sometimes, he would catch himself, say something and then tell himself to shut up.

Driving in rush hour traffic on this Monday morning taxed us both. I had to fight my way into lanes sometimes to make the necessary turn. Some Ticos were not happy. What happened to Pura Vida?!What a relief to drop off the car with nary a ding. Just a lot of dust!

We are staying in an old hacienda, on the grounds of what was at one time a coffee finca. One of the presidents of Costa Rica lived here. Location: Barrio Escalante. We are off the street and the neighborhood is quiet, although there are several brew pubs and restaurants close by. It has been converted into a hostel with several dorms and a few private rooms. We have a little bungalow. Ed swears it was once the tool shed. The bathroom floor is wood slats with spaces that open to the ground below. I’m wondering how well the shower will drain. Waiting until tomorrow to take one, just in case.

I really appreciate the diversity of eco-zones in Costa Rica. The highlands and rain forests, the coasts, the valleys. All are beautiful. There’s so much more to explore. Water from the sky on a fairly regular basis quenches my soul as well as my physical being. Have I mentioned that the green here seems to be greener than elsewhere? Must be a combo of the water and the light. Plants seem to be illuminated from within.

Three days since I’ve posted when we were in Cahuita. We’ve been in Puerto Viejo for 3 nights now. Our routine has been disturbed. Not that that’s negative or to be unexpected when traveling. Today, I felt a strong urge to change the routine that had displaced our usual one. So, here I am, on my own, having cafe con leche in Soda Francia. The boys went to breakfast earlier, before I was ready. The boys are Charlie, his old friend Jerry who happened to be here at the same time and Jerry’s friend, John. We New Mexicans have been tripping around Puerto Viejo for the past few days and it’s been a treat to hang with them – thoughtful, well-traveled, good coversationalists, and easy going. They’ve showed us some of their favorite places to eat and beaches to hang. Today, though, I felt a strong desire to be on my own. It’s a safe place, Charlie won’t be too nervous about leaving me, and the boys may well play poker on the beach.

There are many, many women traveling solo, and of all ages. It’s heartening to see. I sometimes wonder at their audacity. Then remember that I did the same thing for a bit after leaving Rhode Island.

Since arriving here we have seen a number of sloths that eluded us in other places. Well, we saw them, but only as small, round balls resting high up in the trees. Here we have come upon three in action. One climbing up after the weeky poo, another climbing down for his weekly, and the third just hanging from a vine, suspended between trees. They are darling creatures to watch as they make their s l o w progress.

I’ve been swimming in three beaches: Playa Negra on the day of arrival. Not the prettiest, but good waves for riding and easy walking distance.

A great thing about the beaches here is the availablity of shade. Trees grow right up to ocean’s edge and hang over. There’s also plenty of space – no overcrowding here. The beaches are long; I wander off taking a dip at will. I guess when I consider it, no where in the world have I been to beaches that are crowded like they are in Rhode Island with blankets and bodies lying hem to hem, music from a hundred tinny speakers adding to the cacaphony of gulls, waves, children’s shrieks, adult shouts and murmurs. It has its own charm, really and I always loved it. Even now, the images in my mind of those days are sharp and clear and beloved. I hear the sounds, I see the sparkling blue waves, feel the cold of the Atlantic and the smell of tanning lotion. Which I guess is now replaced with the smell of sunscreen.

There are also plenty of rip currents. I don’t think I’ve been to a beach here that hasn’t had a warning sign. At Playa Cocles yesterday, the waves were irregular. Coming in horizontally, as well as diagonally from left and right. Sometimes a wave rolling out hit one rolling in. They crash into each other with a great burst of spray. The undertow is strong; the pull of it a reminder of the mighty force of water. I was called out of the ocean by a lifeguard. Only surers are allowed out. I am seriously considering going somewhere for a month to learn how to surf next winter. Further down the beach wasn’t much different, but the few lifeguards kept an eye of us.

There are plenty of tourists, but the only time it feels crowded here is walking or biking the main road and a few of the more popular dining establishments. Otherwise there is a quiet peacefulness to this little town that one can walk the length and breadth of in about a half hour. Still, there are plenty of sodas, upscale restaurants, tiendas, and even two supermercados. I’d return.

Back to the rain. I really love it. I love the sound of it. I live the smell of it. I love the feel of it. I live being in it, yet protected from it. Always have. Yesterday afternoon we stopped into a small bar on the river. Perched upon our stools, overlooking the water, we were served the ice coldest beers ever. In moments the place was packed with others. Maybe the sky looked ominous and we hadn’t noticed, because within moments, rain visited again. It never seems to out stay its welcome.

The boat ride to Tortuguero that took 1.5 hours, was considerably shortened on the return trip this morning. Smaller boat, fewer people, and Ed is convinced, a younger, more testosterone driven pilot. We really leaned into river bends.

Capuchin white faced monkey in Cahuita National Park as I walked along the beach. It feverishly ate some unripe fruit, biting and scraping with its paws and throwing it to the ground after a few unsatisfying bites. Yet it seemed to think that each new one would yield something different. The beach was littered with discarded, rejected fruit.

Alban. We took our Rebel IPAs to the wall overlooking the beach. A flashlight kept illuminating the water. Alban appeared. “Qué busca? I asked. And he was off in a torrent of Spanish anecdotes about people and experiences he’d had as an employee of the national park system and pura vida of his respect for everyone because pura vida we all bleed red and of the mirador La Merced, which we really must visit y, y, y. I understood a lot and I missed a lot. Oh, he was looking for shrimp. Sometimes good size ones wash up on shore. Alban. What a great guy.

Finding Magic Flowers B and B. The need for wifi brings business to many restaurants. Dr Google brought us to the park entrance not to Magic Flowers. What a name. The magic is in the low cost. It’s a one night stand, all right? It took some sleuthing and asking around and walking around to find this place. The employees are all very sweet and pura vida kind. And there are two of the most beautiful children- a boy of about 3 and a girl of about 1, Antoine and Sai, respectively.

Pure rain? Not really, but truly some grand downpours. First one of the day around 5 am – just when we were getting up to go for our canoe trip. But then it stopped before we left the cabina. Then once out on the river it started again. Then just as suddenly ended. And so it went throughout the day. Rain comes and goes so quickly here!

Sometimes you can hear its approach. Other times you can see it. The sky darkens in the distance, foreboding and challenging in its incontrovertible menace. Nah! It’s just rain, and warm rain at that. It came down so hard while we walked the beach that I stopped to catch it on my tongue. Way better than snowflakes.

Speaking of the beach, I said yesterday that I would go in the ocean today. That was before I read that it’s teeming with sharks and razor toothed barracuda. As I didn’t see any locals (or anyone) trying to ride the waves, I decided to trust in their knowledge and experience. It’s a bit haunting to see a large expanse of beach and rolling waves in a tropical locale that are virtually empty. It’s also quite peaceful.

Castor our guide for the canoe tour was brilliant, taking the boat in to challenging places and stopping to ensure we could see what he saw. And if you didn’t, you better look again and attune your eyeballs or he’d call you blind. “There! There! There!” he’d shout and point with finger or green light. His eyes could pick out an iguana’s leafy looking tail on a leafy tree limb high above. Or the brown furry ball that was a sloth. Spider and howler monkeys cavorting. Green backed, blue, and other herons, ahingas, caimans.

And he made sure we saw them too. 31 years of experience, learned from dad.

Often when you ask someone how it’s going here in Costa Rica, the response is “Pura Vida!” Or if you thank someone for letting you in traffic. Or if you do something for someone. It’s good to keep in mind.

Our hostel room here in Tortuguero is a bit grim. It’s clean and has the basic, albeit very minimal, amenities, but the overhead bare bulb casts a pall over the room. On the pura vida other hand it’s quiet, away from Calle Principal and thumping disco beats. It also looks a lot like many of the homes on the island. And truly pura vida – the ocean surf can be heard just 60 yards away! The three beaches I’ve been to in Costa Rica all post signs warning of danger – strong currents and rip tides. The waves here seem to roll in non-stop. I’ll give it a go tomorrow after our canoe tour.

Stopped in a tiny (2 tables) Soda on the way here today and had one of the most delicious chicken empanadas and fresh piña liquados ever. Empanada made with corn. We already plan to stop again on the way back.

I should mention that the only way to Tortuguero is by boat. We left the car in a paid secure parking lot at the embarcadero. Then took a long, low slung boat down river. It was peaceful – yes, even with the roar of the engine. I saw an iguana, a caiman, a few herons, and white egrets. They have bright yellow feet, long and slender like their necks.

So, no cars here! All the locals wear flip flops (chanclas) or go barefoot. Ate a savory pork, cheese, and bean pupusa in a park by the river and watched kids playing. There was quite an age range and they all were having a riot of a time, the shrieks and giggles and guffaws a delight to hear.

For high season, it’s not all that crowded here. Though it could be that high season for Tortuguero is when the turtles are active.

Another great day in another part of another paradise – ¡pura vida!

Haven’t posted for a few days. Yesterday morning, leaving the treetop bungalow, I tweaked my back as we moved the bed back into place. Some of you are familiar with my lower back issue. I don’t need to go into details except to say that each time it inflames, is better than the time before. It’s been about 3 years running – just once a year – so that’s a gratitude. But it kept me from walking in the afternoon yesterday after a long day of driving. And it kept me from sitting up and posting. Instead, I lay on an ice pack and watched a Denzel W movie on HBO. What a superhero! Early to bed after taking a Tramadol and I”ve been doing aok today!! Which reminds me to go to a Farmacia and see if I can buy more Trammies! OTC in Mexico, so maybe here as well.

Early morning to get to Poas Volcano for an 8 am tour to see the active crater. It was rather a bust as most of the area is closed due to fairly recent activity (October 2019).

The government website for this and a few other national parks for which you must create an account and purchase tickets in advance was most strict with its admonitions regarding arrival time for your tour. For an 8 am tour (earlier the better as the clouds may roll in) you must arrive 15 minutes prior! If you are 5 minutes late, you are bumped off the tour!

It also said the park was open at 7 am. We thought we’d get there early and have coffee and see the exhibit. Upon almost arriving at the park – 2 kilometers shy – a most official looking blockade stopped us.

Before long several cars queued up behind us. Finally some moved the blockade assuming the park staff had simply forgotten to. Ha! So we all drove up 2 kilometers to a closed gate to the park entrance. Hm. Park staff arrived just after 8 to open the gate. Then it was another 10 minutes for them to get on-line for checkin. Ya gotta just laugh about it.

On the other hand, it was another beautiful drive and walk up to the crater.

From the park we headed to a few smaller towns just for the hell of it. The thing is, when I read “small, picturesque town” my mind conjures something really small – like one main road and tienditas sporadically placed along the street. I imagine Panajachel or Tulum 30 years ago. What I encounter is a small city with traffic and people and congestion. Hell, even Tulum and Pana are not the small villages they were 30 years ago. Are any such left in the world? Actually, Nuevo Arenal comes close, being a small outpost of a town far from the raging commercialism of La Fortuna. I guess I miss those places and those days of days gone by. Again, gratitude that I experienced it.

Although the clouds in the above beach photos might have you thinking “too bad” it was truly perfect. Sun would have made it too hot.

I did want to leave you with a sunny image. And beautiful clouds. Wishing you sun and clouds and weather to soothe our soul.

We left Monteverde on the 27th, arriving here in Montezuma later that day, which was yesterday. Why does it seem longer ago than that?

The drive down in the morning had some “pull over and take a photo” spaces.

Paved road all the way to Puntarenas, where we boarded a ferry to Parquea. We were one of the first on deck, right up front, positioned for easy exit. Or so we thought. It seems that the left side of the top deck goes last. “And the first shall be last.” Lordy.

Our Montezuma bungalow has a porch overlooking jungle and high enough to be looking down into part of the tree canopy. Howler monkeys abound and their round, gutteral, bark-like calls can be heard throughout the day, but particularly at dusk and dawn. Though last night in the dark and the rain they were quite vociferous. This morning I was awake at 5:30 and went onto the porch for listening and viewing. Quite a few were up in the trees, eating leaves and flowers or just sitting. Howler monkeys are known as the lazy ones because they spend 80% of their time lounging. I did manage to capture one on video. I’ll try and upload it, though I noticed that the tobaggan video didn’t make it. No —— Wifi connection too slow. Maybe another day.

I spent several hours in the Golfo de Nicoya today. Water is a perfect temp and the waves are fun to play in. Caught many good waves body surfing. I have no pics!

But, I do now have pics from the zipline canopy tour!

The photos can’t do justice to the experience. Such a sense of peace and a physical change of perspective. It opens something up inside. And it is over all too quickly. Five people in my group eshewed the tarzan swing, so others of us lobbied for a second time, to no avail. Yet, I get that sensation from other activities, as well. Dancing and ocean wave frolicking come readily to mind.

When I see the monkeys moving so lightly and delicately in the tree tops I wonder if they too take delight in being up so high. But then, that’s their mileu. Being on the ground would likely provide a sense of danger and risk.

Since leaving San Jose and staying in places away from towns and artificial light, I have hoped to see the night sky, brilliant with stars, especially on these past moonless nights. But we have had clouds every night. Still, no complaints when I can take a hike through the forest and have a view like this. Good night all and good views to you, too, whether they be of landscape or loved ones or beloved places.

Green mountain. Cloud Forest. Green it is, as I have mentioned. Lacking in clouds, though, and that’s all right with me! Very fortunate to have had two beautiful days here for hiking and ziplining. I can post some photos from hiking, but the zipline experience will have to wait a bit.

We have a roomy casita here with a patio overlooking a running stream that burbles non-stop. Days are warm and nights are really cool. Approaching cold, even.

Yesterday we went to the Curicancha reserve for a stroll through the forest, hoping to see some wildlife. We even sprung to rent some binoculars. Alas, there was not much to be seen. A few aguti:

And we saw some hummingbirds flitting among the butterfly bushes. No butterflys though. We met a couple from Minnesota while hiking Curicancha and it turns out they are staying at the same place we are. This is their fifth time here in Costa Rica and they are staying in Monteverde for a month. They also told us about Valle Escondido as a must see, which we went to after Curicancha.

Some man from Boston with money to spare bought hundreds of acres and turned it into an ecolodge with an impressive set of trails and overlooks, some cantilevered into the side of the very steep hills. It offered some great views.

At one point in the hike, there is a short path to a hammock garden. A variety of swing and sleeping hammocks are provided around an opening and under trees for shaded peace and quiet and rest.

Once again, as with the hike to Cataratas Viento Fresco, we were in awe at what it takes to carve steps into these steep hillsides and provide cable or other material for handrails, whether rudimentary, as at Cataratas, or well-engineered , as at Valle Escondido. I like these natural handrails:

Yeah, now I’m just posting photos that I liked over the past few days. Oh! Here is a video of some locals tobagganing.

And, a few days ago, after hiking through Arenal 1968, I was a bad influence on a new friend.

And with that, I’m over and out. Sweet dreams, sweet days, sweet day dreams.