They Did the Mash, They Did the Monster Mash, The Moster Mash, It Was a Graveyard Smash

I refuse to give up my American customs, one being my 2nd favorite holiday, Halloween.  I returned from the US with a suitcase packed to the gills with every cheesy Halloween decoration from iParty I could possible cram in there, ready to show the Costa Rican's what this crazy holiday was all about.  Turns out they gave a schooling I was not at all prepared for.

I of course had my costume picked out since Halloween last year, but I found out others are not as pepared [or insane] as I am.  2 days before our big office party, I stood in a Ropa Americana store, which is the CR version of a thrift shop, with my friend Jose.  We were combing the racks for this year's #1 costume, the dude from the Gangum Style music video.  Cut to 10 years from now when no one remembers what this is, well here is a reminder.

What we found was a ladies blouse that kinda, sorta resembled the jacket from the video, only if you squinted hard enough and cocked your head to the side, but at least it was the right color.  Enter Sylvia! I was determined to make it work.  With a little nip here and tuck there, and of course some black electical tape, it only took four hours, but tada!!!!

Our office party was to take place at the family farm of our coworker Felipe Robert.  This place fit the bill. Upon entering the abandoned house on the property, a bat flew [way] too close to our heads.  No joke! Ask Carla Blanco! That happened!

After an exhausting afternoon of decorating and setting up games: pumpkin carving, toilet paper mummy contests, and my all time favorite... bobbing for nips, we were ready to party! 

Costumes ranged from very elaborate...

To thrown together on the bus ride over...

There were couple costumes...

and of course pet costumes...

But the costume contest winner in my opinion was Mr. Gangum Style himself...

Everyone had a great night, there was awesome food, killer music and of course some great stories.  But what happens at the creepy country house, stays at the creepy country house!

Pura Vida!

As We Go On We Remember All the Times We Had Together. And as Our Lives Change Come Whatever, We Will Still be Friends Forever

 Something had been missing in my life and I finally figured out what it was... Say hello to Fred

Fred's arrival came just in time for another big event: A visit from the one, the only, the absolutely fabulous, Lauren Gasparine.  Laur came down to help me celebrate (or rather forget) my dirty 30.  And from what I can't remember, mission accomplished.

I picked Laur up at the airport in the Troop, with it's brand new engine, and we made a quick stop in the office to say hi before we paid a visit to the Cafe Britt coffee plantation so Laur could taste the best coffee on Earth.

Then it was back to the house to get ready for my birthday party at La Birreria.  There were shots, shots and more shots. And these are the only pictures to prove I was actually there.

The next morning, after waking up, still wearing my dress from the night before, we made our way [slowly] down the coast to Quepos, where we would spend a few days at Manuel Antonio National Park.  With the Troop packed up and my new furry friend in the backseat, we set off on our little adventure.

First stop: Roadside fruit stand, so Laur could have her coconut!

Then we saw some croc's, had some taco's and drove down a crazy dirt road.

We arrived at the hotel and found we had a front row seat to the howler monkey's playing in the trees.  We wasted no time getting out and exploring the area, and even got a free show.

The next morning we hit the park, eager to see some wildlife, and we weren't disappointed.  There were sloths, bugs, birds, racoons and more monkey's.

Later that night we took Fred to the hotel bar, where he proceeded to pass out on the bar stool, earning him the nickname Duf... Drunk Uncle Fred.  That's my boy!!!

Our trip came to an end too quickly, and before we knew it, it was time to head back to San Jose.  We packed the Troop back up, buckled Fred into the backseat and hit the road.  Little did we know, our adventure would not end there.  5 minutes into the trip, as we coasted down the hill into the town of Quepos, I felt the Troop start to buck, and then it made some clicking noises, and then it just died.  Uh O! Well this is no good. We are 3 1/2 hours from San Jose, we don't speak Spanish, it's Sunday morning and no one around, hmmm this is going to be fun.  We popped the hood and checked around, but to any onlooker it was clear we had no idea what we were doing, so a nice man stopped and asked if we needed help, which we did! He called a mechanic friend of his, and then we waited.. and waited... and waited.  No mechanic. But thankfully another nice person stopped to see if we needed help.  This one knew enough about cars to know, my oil tank had busted open and I had run out of oil.  Not a good sign.  He jumped on his motorcycle and drove to the nearest gas station to get us some oil, which we prayed would solve the problem, but sadly, no dice.  A mechanic finally did show up and confirmed, there was no way in hell we were going to be driving that car back to San Jose. Wonderful! Slight problem, we had to get Laur back for her flight, so after some serious negotiation, and my serious I mean, some tears, our new friend, called his brother in law, who had a taxi company and we could hire a van to drive us and all our stuff back to San Jose. 

And as Fred and I waved goodbye to Lauren at the airport. I laughed and thought, there are no boring days in Costa Rica.

Pura Vida!

All I Can Say is That My Life is Pretty Plain, I Like Watchin' the Puddles Gather Rain

Those who know me well know two things: 1) I'm always wearing high heels and 2) I hate being wet with clothes on.  With that said, let me tell you about the new, possibly improved (whichever way you look at it), nature loving, hiking boot wearing, opened minded Sylvia.

Our plan sounded amazing.  We were going to hike up the less known, less visited Barva volcano and visit the lagoon near the summit.  I was really looking forward to it, since I had heard the scenery was gorgeous and I had always wanted to go on a long hike to find a beautiful view waiting at the top.  Sadly, I am still waiting for that day (kinda).  Here's what happened...

My day started at the ungodly hour of 6:00 am.  I woke early to drive to my friends house to meet the group going on the hike.  The night before I spent some time Googling "what to pack for a hike", so I was fully prepared: water, sunblock, first aid kit, snacks, my flask full of whiskey, you know, the essentials.  

Barva is one of the three volcanoes surrounding the Central Valley and a fairly short drive up a long windy road lined with coffee trees and amazing views.  On our way up, we grabbed a bag of mamonchinos from a guy on the side of the road to hold us over while we searched for a restaurant that was open that early!  "Bag" is an understatement, I would say this was more of a giant sack of freaky looking fruit.  I think I've blogged about these fruits before, but if not, then they are truly bizarre looking.  They are pink and very hairy, kind of look like a sea urchin, but you rip off the outer layer and there is a sweet fruit inside.  I think I had 2... maybe.  I am still not a fan, but thankfully it wasn't much longer till we found a restaurant for breakfast.

 

 
With my truck still in the shop (that's another story), we could only drive the teeny tiny rental I had up to a certain point before the road got too rough, and we were forced to make the final mile trek up the rocky, mud ridden road to the park entrance on foot. Oh joy!

Someone got a little tired of walking

 Thankfully the uphill climb was completely worth it.  The trails in the park were well taken care of it and it really felt like we were the only people out there. 

 

 

By the time we got to the lagoon it had begun to drizzle.  Since I had clearly over packed, I was prepared and changed into my rain protection gear that would keep me dry.  What I would quickly learn was there is a big difference between "water resistant" and "water proof", especially when you are in a Costa Rican rainforest.  

 

 

By the time we decided to move on from the lagoon, the rain intensity had escalated from a lite drizzle to a scary F*@&%ing downpour, with the added bonus of the occasional earth shattering cracks of thunder.  The rain was so loud it became hard to hear each other unless you were shouting at the top of your lungs.  It was then I learned my "water resistant" jacket was not going to keep me very dry, in fact my pockets had started to fill up with water,  and my shorts (and other things) were soaked through.  My worst nightmare had come true.  I was standing in the middle of a Costa Rican rainforest in a thunderstorm covered in soaking wet clothes. 

Creative umbrella

After a brief pause under a canopy to get our bearings, we continued on, picking up the pace slightly as we made the trek back down to the cars.  The trails were quickly becoming pure mud slides and it was then I lost my footing as I tried to navigate over the slippery rocks.  Down I went... and hard.  Fighting back tears I took one look at the blood pouring out of the open wound and tried my best to clean it with mud covered hands.  It was going to be a long walk back. 

Epic fail

I don't know how, or even how long it took (I think I may have blacked out for a bit) but we made it back to the cars.  Crouching behind the drivers door, I managed to wiggle out of my soaking wet clothes and change into the amazingly dry, warm ones I had brought (just in case)...thank you Google for your brilliant suggestion to pack dry clothes. We never did made it to the volcano crater, with it's beautiful view but there is always next weekend.   

It wasn't long before I was ready to hike again.  This time we'd be going to Tapanti National Park.  Clay and I picked up Jose on our way to meet Roberto at his parents house in Cartago. From there, Roberto drove us into the park, stopping briefly for a power brunch made up of a french fries and more french fries since it was the only vegetarian option on the menu.  I remember thinking, I'm sure I won't regret that later. 

It was another gorgeous drive into the park.  Coffee lined roads and stunning mountain views.  We even crossed over a bridge I swore was going to collapse under us.  Maybe there is another way out of this park? Sadly, no! See you on our way out bridge, if you are still standing!

 

 

 

The park ranger was friendly enough as he gave us a 8.5x11 piece of paper he called a map, that looked like it had been drawn by a monkey. Somehow we made it to the trail where we wanted to start, the trail that according to Curious George's map, led to the river.  And although the sun had been shining when we arrived, the clouds had moved in quickly and a lovely drizzle had begun.  Armed with ponchos, aka, giant trash bags, we made our decent on the trail.

A short walk down, we found a cut off that led to the river and decided to walk over the boulders rather than get back on the trail.  It sounded like a brilliant idea at the time.  The view was amazing, you could see up and down the river from any point, and high above the trees was a giant waterfall.

 

Where is that waterfall?

There it is!

 

We stumbled upon a natural pool which was formed from a small waterfall and the boys wasted no time disrobing and jumping in.  I decided it was best I stayed on the side and hunkered down to take lots of pictures. 

Fun was had by all, but it was time to dry off and head home.  The boys got out of the water and made their way back to where I was standing on the river bank.  Still taking pictures, I had my back turned when Jose came up over a boulder, lost his footing and fell about 2 meters onto another boulder, and it wasn't until Roberto called my name did I turn to see Jose, shaking, with his wrist pulled close to him.  Oh shit!

I ran over and assessed the situation, ER style.  He was ok, but definitely shaken, his ankle was soar and his wrist was definitely hurt.  Thinking quickly I sent Roberto to find a piece of wood to use as a splint, ripped off my shirt, Baywatch style, and secured his arm to the piece of wood using a few t-shirts.  The girl scouts of America would be proud!

We let him rest before we started the climb back to the car, which seemed longer than I remembered, but isn't that always the case? We all learned a valuable lesson that day.  It's all fun and games until someone falls off a rock!

Pura Vida!!!

P.S.  Jose turned out to be just fine!