Costa Rica - The Rich Coast

The drive into San Jose from the international airport is not that impressive. You enter a city that doesn't have much in the way of aesthetically pleasing buildings - the main reason given seems to be the fact that Costa Rica has so many earthquakes and, hence, buildings don't stand up that long. Certainly, three weeks before we arrived there was a sizeable earthquake, the epicenter of which was not that far from San Jose. But just blaming the bad architecture on earthquakes seems a bit unfair on seismic activity. Still, the accommodation we enjoyed in San Jose was pretty good, even having a colonial feel to the architecture.

So it wasn't long before Beth and I, with our trusted Spanish phrase book (alright for Spain but not ideal for Latin America), managed to organise a bus down to Samara, our home for just about two weeks. The change in scenery within ten miles was fantastic. Suddenly we could see hills, volcanoes and rivers and the views just got better as we headed across the Gulf of Nicoya. Here, large crocodiles bask in the hot sunshine on the sand banks that emerge during low tide. On sped our bus, along narrow country lanes, the heat outside becoming more intense in our non air-conditioned bus. But the journey was worth it.

Samara is a village / small town that lazily spreads along the length of the golden beach that is blessed with gentle seas and palm trees along it's length. A large reef, about half a mile out to sea, provides the crash barrier for the formidable Pacific swell that can cause waves in excess of 8' to come crashing down onto beaches just around the corner. This reef also affords protection at low tide for those interested in snorkeling with the local marine life. The great thing is the water is so warm that you don't need wetsuits. Coming from Cornwall, where the sea at best feels like you've just stepped into a large carton of Mr Whippy's Cornish Ice Cream, I was surprised it felt too hot to swim at times. Unbelievable I know!

Samara has a very laid back vibe which is infectious. It wasn't long before we found ourselves getting into a punishing routine of trotting down to the beach after breakfast (a very nice breakfast I must add), reading books, going swimming in the sea or maybe surfing (yours truly), followed by a walk round to the local bakers for freshly baked cinnamon rolls and gorgeous bread for lunch, back to the beach for a spot more reading and relaxing and perhaps another swim, and finally ending the day with a fabulous meal before crashing out after another hectic day on the Pacific Coast.

We endured this hardship for nearly two whole weeks before we hired some bikes and cycled all seven kilometers to Playa Carrillo, an idyllic half moon bay of almost white sand, a contender for the most beautiful beach in Costa Rica.
On our route to the beach we passed lazy iguanas enjoying the morning sunshine, their spikey dinosaur backs and heads standing out in sharp contrast against the tarmac road. Playa Carrillo stands in isolation, even further away from tourists than Samara. Big palm trees grow closely together along the length of the beach, standing to attention, guarding the golden sands and the oh so blue water gently makes its daily run onto the shore. It's the kind of place where you lose track of time, the only things that seem to matter are simply just being. That and, before getting too philosophical, the need to sprint as fast as you could when you forgot to take your sandals with you to the edge of the water to avoid getting burned feet from the superheated golden sand. Needless to say the day went by far too quickly. We reluctantly left the beach in the pleasantly warm dusk, our footprints the only sign we had ever been there....more passing visitors the beach soon forgets as the tide soothes the scorching sand - a beach we won't forget.

A day or so later, who can remember when time is suspended?, and we made our way from the coast into the hills. Monteverde and Santa Elena are famous for their cloud forests, that's a rain forest but so high up that it's always in cloud. We only had a few days here, taking in the sights and sounds of the forests, watching the precision flying of the Hummingbird, the scuttle of a huge millipede, the swinging of a branch as a monkey disappeared from view, a glimpse of a toucan as its startling colours blurred in flight. We almost saw the famed Volcan Arenal, but every time we tried to catch a glimpse the volcano seemed to cloak itself in cloud and hide from view. Still, the base of Arenal looked a bit like a Welsh mountain......!

A final dash to San Jose and we were off once again, taken from the cocoon of the Rich Coast and back to the world beyond....

The Amazon Jungle

The sleeping giant awoke. For over eighty years things had been quiet and the sleepy village of Baños had continued undisturbed. Baños, meaning baths in Spanish, is nestled is a picturesque location on the descent from the highlands of Ecuador to the jungle in the east of the country. The village gets its name from a number of naturally hot water springs which have been captured to create hot baths in which to relax. But in 1999, on the upper slopes of Volcán Tungurahua, things were far from quiet and sleepy. So much so that 25,000 people were evacuated from the area. It seemed the giant volcano, at 16,479’ (5023m), was living up to its Quichua name – ‘throat of fire’. Amazingly, Volcán Tungurahua has been continually active from that time and continues to be so today, banks of ash and steam clouds being forced up and spewed into the atmosphere.

Baños is like a gateway to the lower and more tropical area of Ecuador that we visited next. It was nice to descend from the air thinned 10000’ to something more sensible, like 3000’. It was certainly a lot warmer – and wetter. The bus journey from Quito was just over five hours with stunning views across the jungle, that would be the Amazon jungle, as we descended past Baños and through a number of very small villages, some no bigger than a few rickety looking houses. Plunging waterfalls cascade down the side of the volcanoes and high ground, landslides occasionally meet the tarmac, as the road snakes its way along the Puyo River. Our final destination was a town called Shell.

You might think this sounds a very non-Ecuadorian name for a town. And you would be right. The town gets its name from the Royal Dutch Shell Company, who in 1937 we carrying out investigative works prospecting for oil. The then village of Shell comprised a number of shacks and a servicing airstrip. However, work in the region did not last that long, not necessarily because of the lack of oil, but because of the concerns for safety. The Indians of the jungle were known to be hostile to any outsiders – this was evidenced by a number of employees being killed. This was clearly a dangerous area to be. So in 1948 Shell, the company, left the area.


Around the next year, an organisation called Mission Aviation Fellowship (MAF) occupied Shell. MAF are a Christian organisation who seek to care for people both physically and spiritually, in areas of great human need and where being able to fly acts as a lifeline. In the remote jungles of Ecuador, if you are bitten by snake, MAF might just be your only chance of survival.


But being in Shell was quite an emotional experience too. And here is the story why.
In January 1956, one of the pilots for MAF, Nate Saint, who flew a Piper like the one shown in the photograph (located in the centre of Shell), together with four other men were speared to death by the feared Waorani tribe. The men had spent some months trying to initiate contact with these people who lived deep within the jungle, and were keen to share the good news of the Gospel with these tribes people. The news of the deaths of the five men made worldwide headlines – it all seemed to be for nothing. Yet what the men never knew was that through their deaths a door of opportunity opened for a sister of Nate Saint, and the wife of Jim Elliot (one of the other men killed) to return to the Waorani tribe and to share the Gospel. And this in turn, had dramatic results. Increasingly, the Waorani people had become embittered with revenge killings. Anger, immense anger at that it seems, was enough to justify killing someone. Virtually everyone in this tribe knew a member of their close family who had been murdered. In fact you were old aged if you made it to your thirties. The cycle of killing had become worse and worse to such an extent that the tribe was in jeopardy of simply destroying itself. It was around this very time that the five men were speared to death as they sought to share the Gospel – and yet what is most wonderful and amazing is that the very people who acted in this way have been utterly transformed by God’s grace. The killings have ceased and the tribe now wants to ‘walk God’s trail’. The very men who killed have become leaders in the church in the jungle and deep and lasting friendships have been forged between those who once killed and the families of those who were killed. And here we were in Shell, at the very house where these men left, never to return. It is a truly amazing story of God’s rich mercy, forgiveness and grace which overflowed from the families left behind and brought about a wonderful transformation. A quote from Jim Elliot, for me, summarises so much of what these men stood for:

“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

I was quite excited to have a look at some of the aircraft MAF has. Although we didn’t quite have a chance to fly over the jungle, we were gives a tour around the planes. How the pilots manage to land these things on remote jungle airstrips barely wide enough for the aircraft is beyond me. You must need some amount of craziness!!

Shell is much bigger today, with a whole town built to the one side of the airstrip, but it is still relatively small. Even so, the very real everyday needs of people are very apparent. We were privileged to help at an orphanage for a day, seeing children with physical and mental disabilities being shown care and love. The little girl here is called Grace. The older children have their own little classrooms whilst the younger babies and toddlers are cared for by other volunteers. Some of these children come from families where the parents are still alive but at the current time were unable to cope with the child. So with the possibility that these children may return to their families at a later date, things in the orphanage are kept as simple as possible – which can be a shock. But that is how people live.

One of the days we went into the jungle in an area called Hola Vida (literally being translated Hello Life). We walked in to see a waterfall and plunge pool where you can go swimming. On the way in we spotted leaf cutter ants (some up to an inch or so in length), tarantulas (look for the spot in the photo!) and even walking trees. The waterfall itself was very refreshing after the muggy walk in, the only downside being I felt I needed to look over my shoulder the whole time just in case some other animal decided to join me swimming around the plunge pool. Thankfully, I didn’t look that interesting to eat, except maybe to a few bugs. The force of the water falling from 80’ or so onto your back as you swim underneath the falls was pretty impressive, a little too strong for that massaging feel – unless of course you can hold your breathe for a few minutes and enjoy the experience 3’ underwater.
One of the best views we had of the jungle was from a balcony near Pomona where you can see the confluence of the Pastaza and Puyo Rivers. When we looked across these rivers there were many sand and gravel banks, clearly the river was in low flow. But every 10 years or so there are massive storms dumping rain on the hills, causing these rivers to swell to destructive proportions. You wouldn’t want to be around the river then!
From here the rivers flow on in a generally eastward direction, joining the Amazon on its major trek across this amazing continent.


We really enjoyed the variety and the beauty of Ecuador. It is an amazing country. To all those who made our time there so special we’d like to say ‘muchas gracias!’

The Highlands of Ecuador

It starts with shortness of breath. Even when lying down to sleep you can wake suddenly gasping for air. Always breathing but never seemingly getting enough air in the lungs. Then you can´t sleep, you may get headaches, you may feel or even be sick, feel lightheaded and generally very lethargic. Thirsts don´t seem to be quenched. Welcome to life above 10000´for the likes of low altitude folks. In reality, it only became as bad as all that on two occasions when Beth and I were considerably higher than 10000´.

A good part of our time in Ecuador was spend in Quito, the capital, nestled between the twin ranges that form a part of the Andes; Volcán Pichincha the most dominant. The flight in is spectacular as you cruise in over snow capped volcanoes then bank very sharply over the capital as the aircraft makes its final steep approach skimming over one of the city´s residential areas to make a touchdown just as you think you´re about to land in someones back yard. The runway here is half as much again as a standard runway, giving the planes a chance to take off at this altitude!


We were visiting Ecuador to see something of the work undertaken by HCJB, a Christian organisation that has been in Ecuador since 1931, providing radio coverage worldwide, healthcare and furthering community development. We were with a family from the UK who are working within the community development sector, particularly concentrating on providing clean drinking water to rural communitites. El Corazon and Carabuela are two villages where HCJB are involved in water projects and we were able to see firsthand some of the conditions these guys have to work in. I started the blog talking about altitude sickness. That´s just the start! The weather in these mountainous regions can be very fickle, as you can imagine. Sunny mornings can give way to massive thunderstorms very quickly. Getting equipment and personnel to some of these remote areas has its own challenges and often there are no real roads. The teams working on these projects have a very simple existence, sleeping perhaps on a concrete floor if things are good, and cooking very simply. Yet despite the harsh conditions, we met many warm hearted village people, so glad to be able to help.

At El Corazon, about an hours drive south of Quito, we drove as far as we could up Volcán Corazon, getting stuck in deep mud for a couple of hours, before walking the final 1000´ ascent to springs, high up in the mountain. The village had not had consistent clean water for over two months. There were some rudimentary plastic pipes laid to direct spring water to the village which the villagers had previously installed. But these had become heavily silted and were ineffective. You begin to realise the enormity of the task in getting clean water to just this one village. And there are many more villages like this one where clean water is something not taken for granted.

We did, of course, have some time to explore something of these highlands. Ecuador in Spanish means ´Equator´ and about twenty minutes to the north there is a big red line that marks the northern and southern hemispheres. Beth being a Yorkshire lass thought she was duty bound to represent the northern hemisphere whilst being a Cornish lad thought I´d represent the south in our touristy photo! (Due to technical difficulties this photo will be appearing once I get this painfully slow computer to start working properly and stop eating my Colones!)

One of the local dishes here is roasted Guinea Pig. No it doesn´t taste quite like chicken, a bit more fatty, but we still finished off the little rodent. And people have these little things as pets?














We also had the opportunity to climb Volcán Antisana, the fourth highest volcano in Ecuador at 18871´. Given the equitorial bulge of approximately 14000´, you´re actually closer to the sun on top of one of these mighty peaks here in Ecuador than you are on Everest! We made base camp at 15800´ within sight of the first glacier. It was a beautiful clear afternoon as we prepared for a midnight ascent on the mountain. But altitude took its toll. By the time midnight came round visibility was poor and getting worse and we weren´t feeling great. Some others went on but we tried to get some sleep, a difficult thing when you feel you are running out of air.


Below are some photographs of a visit to Laguna Cuicocha, a high altitude lake that has formed in a crater on Volcán Cotacatchi and also the magnificent Laguna Quilotoa, a similar natural phenomenom adjacent to the village of Quilotoa, the latter photographed at dusk with only enough light. As it started to get dark it also became very cold and we all sat around this nice warming stove.

Stateside

It was my first white Christmas - that I can remember anyhow. Beth and I spent a fantastic Christmas with family in Laramie enjoying the delights of a Christmas in the U.S of A. It is probably fair to say that we were spoilt, but after the last few months of travelling we were more than ready to stop and be looked after. So Auntie Margaret, Uncle Mel, Ian, Lisa and the triplets together with Eric and Lindsey - thank you all SO much!

Although we were looked after, this didn't mean that we just sat around. Our first suprise came on Christmas Day in the form of hand warmers, feet warmers and toe warmers together with a little slip of paper which gained us access to numerous ski lifts across the vast Winter Park - a world class skiing area in the Rockies. A few days later, donned in various layers of warm clothing, and armed with our snowboards, we headed out into the hills (if British read: mountains - as we were at 10000') to carve up some powder. I'm not sure if we carved powder or whether the mountain carved us. Both Beth and I managed to do the occasional full flip, notching a few g-forces on the way as the downhill edge of our snowboard cut into the snow. There was no warning - just the thud as you hit the deck and the slight whiplash that made you feel like you had been in a mosh pit for a week or so. But snowboarding was such great fun and the scenery at Winter Park was so picturesque, trees loaded down with snow and occasioanlly outstanding views of the rest of the Rockies.

Not content to treat us to one snow based activity, we headed across to the Snowy Range, to try our hand at snowmobiling. I'm not sure how you describe sitting on 150bhp of raw power whilst skimming over 3' powder across an alpine meadow doing 60mph holding onto the handgrips for all you're worth - adrenalin pumping to say the least. These machines can easily get you to speeds of over 120mph - very very quickly. Our guide through the maze of snow capped mountains, deep forests with trees heavily laden with snow and across frozen lakes was one of the photo shoot riders for Yamaha, a rancher by the name of Chad, who was particularly quick through the woods and could turn one of these machines on a dime, akin to cutting back when surfing. Chad thought it would be good fun to take us tandem on his supercharged snow mobile and blast up a huge hill, normally a good hour or so walk over boulders in the summer but only seconds over deep snow on a snowmobile! Our hats go off to Auntie Margaret who clung on and not only made the quickest ascent of the massive hill but also popped over the lip and caught some air! We covered over 70 miles in one day even stopping for a sizeable lunch in a refuge in the snowed in hills.

Not far from the snowmobiling is another ski area in the Snowies where Aunite Margeret patiently taught us the skills of skiing. One classic memory is of one section of downhill slope where I was carefully practising my turns. I was just beginning to feel I was making some progress when I heard someone shout at me and so instinctively got out of the way. Who should come by but Beth, flying down the slope like she had waxed her skiis, tearing into the corners and disappearing out of view, the light settling of carved snow the only indication that she had passed that way. Eventaully I caught up with her, swallowed my pride, and congratulated her on an outstanding performance. It was only then she told me that when I had heard someone shout, and courteously got out of the way, Beth was in fact out of control and figured the best option was just to point and shoot straight down the mountain as any sharp turns would have meant painfully hugging a tree. I was still impressed!

But it was not just out on the slopes where we were introduced to new things. American football, once shrouded in mystery, has now become an exciting spectator sport. I still can't work out why it is called football when virtually everyone uses their hands - but there are some things that are just..well..American. Take eating. We're used, in the UK, to have a savoury main course followed by either a sweet dessert or a cheese board. But we were introduced to new combinations like chilli with jell-o (if British read: jelly). The jell-o is used to cool the mouth rather than for the flavour. I also finally had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (if British read: peanut butter and jam sandwich). But when it comes to doughnuts, burgers, cinamon roles and the like, our cousins across the pond definitely have the upper hand. Very tasty indeed.

Too soon our time in the States came to an end and we were packing once more, heading to warmer climes in the mountains of Ecuador.

Picturesque New Zealand

We couldn't leave the blog of New Zealand without a few more pictures of our adventures...

1. Doubtless Bay
2. Uretiti Beach looking out to Taranga Island
3. Picnic Thanksgiving meal with Alan, Sarah and friends
4. Cathedral Cove
5. Doris getting friendly with the locals!
6. Wenderholm Regional Park
7. McLean Falls
8. Arthur's Pass
9. Kauri tree - Te Matua Ngahere (Father of the Forest) the second largest tree in NZ!
10. Beth learning to surf!
11. Matt cooking outside the campervan
12. Beth's 30th birthday meal at Long Beach, Russel in the Bay of Islands!
13. & 14. Mouraki Boulders