In class, my profesora María and I went over my short homework exercise on the imperfect subjunctive. The day before, we'd watched El crimen del padre Amaro (The Crime of Father Amaro) about a young, newly ordained priest who falls in love with a beautiful young village girl. Thankfully, María turned on the Spanish subtitles so I could at least read what they were saying. On my last day of Advanced 2, I wrote my final composition, a commentary on the state of crime and violence in modern society. María said I was ready to skip another level and move directly to Advanced 4. I gave her and Virginia, my profesora from last week, goodbye hugs and thanked everyone I'd met for their wonderful hospitality. I was a little sad to leave such a beautiful place, but I somehow had the feeling I'd be back again someday.
Six of us hopped on a tour van at 2 o'clock that afternoon, bound for Rincón de la Vieja National Park: me, Cathy, Patrick with his mom and sister from Holland, and a Swiss student named Connie. It was Cathy's last day in Sámara, too. She didn't think she could make the trip since her flight out of Liberia back to New York left at 2 o'clock on Sunday, but when she saw how close the park was to the airport (an hour and change), she was definitely in. I was glad she was able to go, since we'd been like brother and sister – partners in crime for the past week and a half. Plus she hadn't been able to take a real honest-to-goodness ecotrip during her two weeks in Costa Rica, so it was great to see her finally get the chance.
We went up the hill to Rincón de la Vieja traveling over the requisite strip of rocky dirt (or was it dirty rocks?) serving as a road. Unlike Monteverde, Rincón is less visited and much less touristy. We arrived at Rinconcito Lodge around 6 that evening and we were the only guests there. The lodge made plenty of excellent food during our stay, including steak, chicken and fish with the requisite gallo pinto at breakfast and garlic mashed potatoes at dinner. Rinconcito has its own tour guides and horses so it can tailor a variety of tour packages for its visitors.
Saturday morning we got right on the horses and rode up to the modest ziplines. There are fewer ziplines than at Monteverde Extremo, and there are no rappeling lines or tarzan swings. Cathy, Patrick's mother and his sister were ziplining for the first time. These were slower ziplines than at Mondeverde, so we had opportunities to do tricks like free-spinning and Superman. The three of them were a little afraid at the start but got the hang of it quickly. Our tour guide Walter was a friendly, how's-it-hangin' sort of guy with Rastafarian hair. He taught us a few tiquismos such as "¡Tuanis, mae!" ("Cool, man!") and "Manuela" (a euphemism for self-gratification).
Afterward, Walter left us with our other tour guide, José, and it was back on the horses and off to the park. Rincón de la Vieja is an active volcano that last erupted in 1998, so the park encompasses hot springs that, unlike Baldi, are untouched with no spa resort built around them. We got off our horses and hiked through the forest about a kilometer and a half to one of the hot springs. Connie, Cathy and I sauntered into the water, while Patrick and his sister Chantal opted out. (Patrick's mom had decided to go back to the lodge after ziplining.) The water was warm and relaxing, effusing the distinct smell of volcanic sulfur. This place was really in the middle of nowhere, and it was a relief to get away from all the tourists and do a little trekking off the beaten path. We didn't encounter anybody else until we got back to the park entrance where our horses were waiting. It was a real down-and-dirty hike with puddles, fresh mud and rivers to trudge across. We all just grinned and bore it, getting our shoes wet as we waded calf-deep through the rivers – except for Connie. She was really averse to the current and rode on José's back every time we crossed a river. It was funny to watch. José spent a lot of time joking that he was in love with Connie, which we all got a kick out of.
We rode our horses out of the park and out to a trail leading to a waterfall. It was about a half kilometer hike down. The water was cold, and it was a refreshing way to cool off after a long hike. Again it was just Connie, Cathy and I in the water – which was ironic considering how afraid Connie was of crossing those several rivers. After that we headed on back to the lodge. By this time our horses, much active than the ones we rode in Sámara, were itching to do some serious running. José's horse at one point sprinted for what seemed like a mile despite everything he tried to get him to stop. And of course, when one horse sprints, the rest want to do the same. Connie and Patrick had two of the fastest so they were praying for their horses to slow down. I'd figured out pretty early on how to position my weight during their gallops, so I was enjoying the brisk pace.
On Sunday morning we all hugged Cathy goodbye as she jetted off to Liberia International Airport. Connie and I went hiking with Walter to a small 10-foot waterfall which was just as cold as the other one. We left the others behind, as they'd brought only one set of clothes and those were already pretty dirty. But one of the dogs that lived at the lodge came with us. This little guy was a trooper, hiking with us three kilometers out and back. But there was one river he couldn't cross on the way back (although I can't figure out how he got across on the way out). So I had to rescue him, which of course wasn't possible without stepping in the river and getting my shoes all wet again. Ah well, all in the name of pura vida.
After lunch, we all hopped on the van back. I got off in Liberia, said my goodbyes to my friends (who were returning to Sámara) and hopped on the bus to San José. Since this bus originated in Liberia, I got an assigned seat and didn't have to stand like I did going to Sámara. The bus route, operated by Pulmitan de Liberia, traverses about 200 kilometers over the Pan-American Highway, which until just about 20 kilometers outside of San José is an unmarked two-lane road traversing the countryside. The fare was unbelievably cheap – 2,900 colones ($5.80). The bus route goes over the mountains and into the clouds for the second half of the trip. The landscape is quite spectacular through the higher altitudes though it was impossible to take a picture amidst the dark clouds, rain and fog. With all the bus routes traversing the country, it's pretty easy to get to most places without a car. Just travel light!
I hopped off the bus at Juan Santamaría International Airport and took a taxi to Heredia. I got there around 6:30 in the evening, and Zeneida was waiting with open arms ready to cook dinner for me. She gave me the downstairs bedroom this time since Ellie and Ken had already moved out. It's much quieter than the upstairs room next to all the college students, although it doesn't have the nice view. It's smack in the middle of the house, but it isn't hot like I'd feared. Strangely, it feels like I'm coming home after a long vacation. It's hard to believe that next weekend, I really will be going home.
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