Zipping down winding up

Manuel Antonio is the perfect destination for people who love resort-style entertainment. Here's a sample of ads in the monthly magazine Quepolandia (a free guide to the area):

• Sport fishing and spear fishing
• Jet skiing
• Parasailing
• Horseback riding
• Whitewater rafting
• Mangrove island boat tours
• Snorkeling
• Sunset sailing tours
• Guided tours to the park and other forests
• Surf boarding and lessons
• Canopy tours (zip-lining)

To help you recover from all that activity there are spas and yoga salons, infinity pools, beaches, bars, and restaurants. Of course MA isn't alone in offering all this, but unlike other resorts we're familiar with (Cancun and Ixtapa come to mind) they have done a good job of protecting their environment. No high-rise hotels hug the shoreline, and new developments must set aside some nondeveloped land. 

Costa Rica is rightly proud of its green reputation, which supports a tourist industry that employs a great many people. I'm guessing that most of the working people in this town are connected in some way with tourism—not a risky guess since we see them going to and from work wearing shirts with the logos of hotels, tour companies, restaurants and bars. 

We couldn't miss out on all this fun so last week we went zip-lining. A minibus picked us up at 7:15 a.m. and carried us out of town to La Foresta Nature Resort, 180 acres of primary and secondary rainforest reserve. After checking in at the office we met our guides, Luis and Ronald, and the fun began. (But not before visiting briefly with an Alaskan man with his foot in a cast. When we asked how it happened he said, "Zip-lining—but not here." Oh good.)

Here's one of the platforms. Sometimes climbing up to these was more
 frightening than the zipping.

After the tour we sat down for breakfast, then took a walk
around the grounds. I liked this tree.

Here's Ray on a long suspension bridge.

The open-air dining room. We were lucky to be the only ones on
the tour that morning and we could relax and take our time. After Luis reported
  there had been forty people the previous afternoon, we realized how lucky. 

We took our after-activity relaxation a few days later and had
breakfast at the Mariposa hotel, a lovely place with a more than
 180-degree-view from the terrace dining room. (Rooms here start around $250.)

The Pacific was calm and hazy with humidity.

The buffet breakfast was delicious, and the tables uncrowded.
No one here rushes anything so we took our time and enjoyed the scenery.

The peninsula is part of Manuel Antonio National Park. You can see
 that although hotels and homes are present, the view
is unblocked by high rise hotels.

There are a few more things on our to-do list but time is getting short. We're down to 12 days, and honestly, we're counting them. We're ready to get back to family, friends, and our new house; to gather up our belongings, now scattered across five towns, and to get started on the next chapter in our lives.

A few minutes ago Ray called me away for our late afternoon walk. We turned left onto the now familiar road and headed downhill, saying "hola" numerous times and patting many familiar dogs. I waited while he tossed a frisbee with a little boy and then we followed the U left, through the shady jungle trees and up the hill toward the highway. Just past the U we heard the calls of howler monkeys. We've never managed to see them, but we hear their calls—which sound like roar—often. (I can hear them as I write.)

Up the hill now, the road almost disappearing into graveled chaos; more "holas." There are the bantam roosters, here are more dogs to pet. We look for the leaf-cutter ants but can't find them. We stop to watch children kicking a soccer ball around the town field, then turn left again along the highway, cursing the diesel truck and a roaring motorcycle, searching for sloths in the trees near the bus stop, waving to hard-working Khang in his restaurant. Left again at the market, one more greeting from a now familiar Tico, and here we are at home.

There are definitely things I will miss about Manuel Antonio.

A walk to the beach

There are several beach coves along the coast that stretches from Quepos to Manuel Antonio National Park. The one nearest our house is Rocky Beach, so about a week ago we took an exploratory walk to see what it was like. We went early to avoid the heat.

Our first view of the sea. The road down passes through a private resort
but the beach itself is open to all.

Ray checks a stand of bamboo.

Near the bottom of the hill are a couple of deserted buildings that
demanded exploration. We're told they are deserted homes.

The coast itself looks much like Oregon's;
 just swop the tropical trees for firs and spruce. 

Surprisingly, the beach was deserted except for a couple from the resort.
At low tide you can walk from one cove to another
along this stretch, but our timing wasn't right.

This beached log was covered with tiny hermit crabs,
who scurried away when we approached. These are the slowpokes.

The walk back about 10:30 a.m. was hot, humid, and hard, the road being very steep in several places. An old pickup carries the resort residents and their lounge chairs down and up the muddy, bumpy track but we were satisfied to be walking despite the effort. It's a nice beach and we'll definitely go back, taking our suits next time.

Unfortunately, our explorations were curtailed this week, for as soon as I recovered from my cold Ray developed a case of flu (this is day 4 and he's feeling a little better). The weather is improving though, with the rains coming far less often. Sometime soon we will hire a guide and visit the National Park. With his help we should spot lots of wildlife—I'm really hoping for a sloth.