Quepos
Home of Manuel Antonio Natl. Park
I got up early to run through the parks and monuments of San Jose Monday morning. After I got back, Stephanie and I took our rental car to the town of Quepos on the Southern Pacific Coast of Costa Rica. We rented a room just out of town in what I would describe as a budget accommodation, though it was not cheap by Central American standards. It still had a very nice outdoor pool with a restaurant and staffed bar. Our room was well equipped with Wifi and an air conditioner. It was clean if not fancy. We did not plan to spend that much time in the room, anyhow.
To get to our motel, we had to proceed down a narrow street just outside the south end of town. The street led through a local neighborhood. It was lined with standard Central American houses. They were small, squared, and old. Nearly all had barred windows, though they did not seem like they would have much to steal. Many of the homes had political flags or banners. Each time I walked through, I passed numerous feral or semi domesticated pets, roaming children and occasionally arguing adults. For the most part, it seemed like a normal Costa Rican neighborhood – at least as far as I could tell. I assume many of these families somehow supported Quepos’s booming tourism industry, which seemed to dominate the local economy.
I started our first day in Quepos with a run. I don’t enjoy that, but it’s better than taking a full vacation from exercise. We spent the earlier part of the day exploring the town and the local area. Quepos has a large, enclosed marina. It is an attractive area that contains something like a mini-mall. You can also eat there. We checked out the options for boat rides and other interesting activities before enjoying a nice lunch. We decided on a sunset cruise that would explore some local coastal highlights, offer a brief swimming interlude, and provide a few afternoon refreshments. Our ship was an older looking wooden vessel. The experience was lots of fun. We met some other nice vacationers, and had a nice, relaxing swim. We enjoyed a nice fruit tray and just soaked in the atmosphere. Although we did not get soaked, we were slightly dampened by a couple of rain showers on the way back in. It probably wasn’t something I would have chosen on my own, but I was glad I went. It just goes to show you that your travel partners can introduce you to new experiences you wouldn’t have had if you’d gone on your own. That’s true, even if your travel partner has been your life partner for nearly 30 years.
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Before we got our supper, I found a bike shop and rented a bike. They had only mountain bikes, and even those seemed to only come in “Tico” size. Tico is the local term for someone from Costa Rica. I went ahead and rented the tiny for me – but actually about medium sized – mountain bike. I rode the thing home, up and over the steep incline to our motel.
We enjoyed a local supper outside on the patio and walked along the shoreline as night fell. We passed the beach, numerous Christmas decorations, and a giant outdoor chess set. We then heard a peculiar noise. It sounding like some kind of rhythmic, metallic rubbing or scratching. As we got closer, we discovered a community percussion band. Yes, a band entirely made of percussion. There were drums, of course, and some cymbals and tambourines. There were a few xylophones for producing the melody. The scratching noise was coming from a great multitude of instruments that looked sort of like large cheese graters. These were rubbed to make a sound like a melodious clothing zipper. It was an intriguing instrument.
This music group turned out to be a local community band. They were practicing Christmas carols on the percussion. They were pretty good already, but the continued to go over their repertoire quite a few times. A small crowd began to gather, mostly just to watch and observe. We noticed one older Norte Americano who had imbibed a bit too much even at this relatively early hour. He danced all sorts of strange steps and routines. He was clearly very excited and ended up doing some sort of drunken moon walk to the percussion Christmas carols. It was quite comical, at least until he wanted to engage Stephanie in long conversations.
As is often my practice when traveling, we ate ice cream just about every night. Most Latin American countries seem to have an abundance of heladerias, little store front shops that deal only in frozen treats. I don’t think I have ever had low quality ice cream from one of these. The ones in Quepos had many interesting flavors made from local fruits to go along with the traditional flavors. I suppose it is due to the excessive walking I tend to do while on these trips, but in spite of eating ice cream every night and trying lots of other local cuisine, I generally tend to lose weight while traveling.
I awoke early the next morning and set out for a long ride on my bike. It turned out to be a good thing the bike shop rented me a mountain bike. Most of the roads I rode were not paved. I traversed over twenty miles of gravel through rural Costa Rica. I passed palm oil farms, banana plantations, a couple of villages, pastures, and two river bridges before I came to a spot where the river had to be forded. It appeared a bit too deep to try to cross. I made a couple of tentative attempts before turning back to retrace my path to Quepos.
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By the time I got back, took a quick dip in the pool, and then had a shower, Stephanie was just about ready to get up and look for some breakfast. After a quick bite, we drove to nearby Manuel Antonio National Park. This park is known for scenic beaches and biodiversity. We saw three different species of monkeys here, and a lot of iguanas. The tropical plant life was also nice. For me the highlight was the Pacific Coast scenery. Manuel Antonio is home to a couple of amazing white beaches. One of them is attached to the mainland only by a fragile looking strip of sand bridge. Craggy islands speckle the coastline. There are cliffs and tide formed holes. There are beaches that look to only be accessible via perilous descent trails. We observed people swimming in ocean pools that rose and fell rapidly with the waves, wondering how they weren’t smashed against the rocks.
I do not believe the scenery was the most memorable part of Manuel Antonio for Stephanie. She seemed most impressed by the number of stairs one had to climb to navigate all of the senderos (trails). We walked throughout the system of trails, many of which covered ground that had been built over by construction crews so that there were safer stairways. Not everyone preferred these staircases. As beautiful as Manuel Antonio was, Stephanie was sick of climbing by the time we had walked the whole place. She wanted me to be sure to mention, though, that the views were worth every step.
Once we got back to our room, it was time to clean up and head out for supper. We were plenty sweaty, and I chose to cool off by floating in the pool. I got my money’s worth out of that pool. We enjoyed another dinner out at a mostly outdoor steak house that had some of the best churrasco I have tasted. Like most Latin American steaks, it was thin and a bit tougher than what we’re used to in America. But the flavor of the meat and the chimichurri sauce was spectacular. I have not been to Argentina yet, to see if the original is better. If it is, it will be a rewarding trip. That meal was great.
We did not encounter the Christmas caroling percussion band on the way home, but the evening was pleasant. We had a nice walk back toward the motel. The ice cream was delicious. The time alone with my bride was irreplaceable. It was a wonderful evening.
Before leaving the next morning, I went on another long bike ride. I passed the myriad of political signs and banners. I passed the rows of straight, evenly spaced palm trees. I passed the near village, a few hills, and the cattle pastures. It was a nice, cool morning, if a bit humid. I got my exercise and was ready to go explore some other parts of Costa Rica. Quepos was nice, but there was more to see.
