Costa Rica

Borealis Wednesday 26th April 2023

The sea was as calm as a mirror in the hazy morning sunshine. We passed an outgoing EUKOR roll on roll off ship, probably carrying cars. Ten minutes later we hove into sight of land and by 7am had docked in Puerto Caldera.

Looking from my breakfast table it seemed like a poor excuse for a tourist terminal. Perhaps unfair, because Puerto Caldera is primarily a commercial port covered with containers, surrounded by dense green foliage and waves beating on to a short beach. There are almost no houses in view outside of the port area. In fact it is us in the Borealis who seemed to be the intruders. Because of that there was strict ban on all civilians to walk around the dock area except for access to our excursion buses or shuttle buses.

At 8am Sammee came on the ship's intercom anouncing that the vessel had received clearance from the port. Our own tour to the town of Esparza and the Tarcoles River Cruise would not depart until 12.30. If we should wish to go ashore earlier there would be continuous port shuttle services to take us to the port gate. From there further shuttle buses at 15 minute intervals could take individuals on a 30 minute journey to the nearby town of Puntarenas for sight seeing and shopping. The temperature is already 33 degrees and is likely to rise to 35 degrees in the day.  

By 10am I was ready to go ashore but decided in view of the time frame to stop just at the port gate for a coffee and a wander round any shops. When I got out onto the port area the morning excursion buses had left and there was a huddle of people queuing for the shuttle buses. After some ten minutes one of our destination staff had announced that she had located a site in the dock terminal building where the usual sad brigade could sit in an air conditioned hall and make contact with their loved ones and their businesses in late afternoon UK time. That automatically reduced the queue by a half. Next we were told that there were no cafes at the port entrance so the only shuttle buses gong were on the 30 minute trip to Puntarenas. In biew of the lack of time that was a risky decision to take, as I needed to get back not only for the 12.30 excursion, but to reach the cabin in time beforehand and share a quick pre-excursion snack with her.

Sure enough the journey took a little longer than scheduled. Our coach continued along a coastal clinging route that covered a t stilocal express way and local roads with well preserved road surfaces. Rich green vegetation is everywhere, although there are areas of bare yellowish soil. Trees vary, including palm trees and more deciduous varieties, such as cedar trees, oaks and the national tree, the guanacaste with its thick trunk and wide canopy, which grows everywhere and is ecologically valued as an avid consumer of carbon dioxide, giving off oxygen as well as valued fruit. The more urbanized routes show off bushes with organge and lilac coloured blossoms. Part of the way we share the road with disused railway tracks. fter half an hour we finally reach Puntarenas which is a small seaside resort with one long quay currently occupied a British cruise vessel nearly one and a half times the size of Borealis. I assume they made the earlier booking and that is why Borealis was shifted off elsewhere and to dock in drab Puerto Caldera.  The central market and adjoining beach in Puntarenas would have been a much happier port destination for us. After spending just some 15 minuted in Puntarenas I decided not to risk a longer stay and to return to Puerto aldera on the same shuttle bus in which I arrived. I dare not raise the prospect of Albina's ire if I should arrive late for our scheduled afternoon trip. 

When I got back at 12 noon Albina prepared some scraps of lunch to take with us after selecting some cold meats, cheese and fresh rolls at the buffet restaurant. We joined our excursion coch on time with a cheery guide called Exon. As we travelled through the wooded hills, past attractive villages and smaller settlements, he gave us a long talk on the history and the economy of Costa Rica. After a civil war in 1948, the winning president abolished the army completely. As a result, unlike its Central American neighbours, Costa Rica has enjoyed peace, democracy and prosperity. All the funds that would normally by spent on the army were redirected to education and security. The G7 countries have guaranteed Costa Rica's independence against any foreign incursion, though the validity of that guarantee has never had to be put to the test. It sounds a little like Article 5 of the NATO treaty. If a member is attacked, all others in the alliance would come to its aid. I would feel obliged to be sceptical, but the whole of Europe's security is based on that one crucial little article. Meanwhile the expenditure on education offers not only free primaray and secondary education for school children, and afforadable student loans for those in highrt education, but also free places for all toddlers, so young mothers are free to join the work force. Poorer parents get aid with supplying school uniforms. Children learn Spanish and English from an early age, and are now thinking of introducing universal teaching of French in elementary schools. In the nineteenth and early twentieth century Costa Rica was single crop economy based on coffee and this made it dependent  on American and European importers. Now it has diversified its production and exports by also exporting bananas and pineapple, and medical products. It is also in the forefront of ecotourism, now a key component of the economy. All hunting had been banned in Costa Rica. Killing of wild animals and stealing shells from the sea shore could earn perpetrators short prison sentences.  

The guide also explained how the area we are exploring is on the borderline of wet tropical forests to the south and dry tropical forests to the north, so that we are passing through what he called "transitional" rain forests. The temperature is fairly constant between 23 and 28 degrees and there are two seasons in the year, wet (summer) and dry (winter). In our part of the Pacific coast the dry season is longer lasting from November to May. In other parts of Costa Rica the rainy season is longer. There are more changes in climate during the day than in between months. For instance, rain is most likely to ocur in the afternoons. The political stability and the predictability of the climate makes this an attractive place to live, even for Europeans. Certainly Albina was very impressed by the climate, the cleanliness and by the picture of the country drawn for us by Exon. I see a possible return to this country in the future.

                                    

Our first stop was in the small town of Esparza. We stopped at the main town square surrounded by a church, a Papa John pizza parlour, a bank, some souvenir shops and other low level 2 storey municipal and commercial buildings. A local school had prepared a programme for our two coach parties, but one which I expect they had repeated several times that day. Chairs and refreshments had been set out for us. Some six young female students, accompanied by four children, had been dressed in bright red and white costumes, with wide skirts and aprons, which they could swish around as they danced. They performed a couple of patriotic dances and then got us spectaros involved as they danced the turkey dance. This begins with a young boy armed with a broom decorated like a turkey, which he sweeps in the air from time to time, as thegirls form a circle and danve around him. Suddenly the circle breaks and the dancers invite (read snatch) onlookers into the circle  to continue the dance and constantly changing the person in the middle. That person is the turkey and the idea is to pass on that broom to someone else as quickly as possible. Whoever is left with the broom at the end of the dance gets a drink of spirits (to make the victim's flesh more tender) and is then decapitated with a huge machete. One of our ladies did end up as the sacrificial victim, and although she drank the vodka and saw the long machete being prepared, she was finally pardoned. We bought some coffee and home made souvenirs and returned to our coaches.

The next stop was a well manged souvenir shop combined with a restaurant. Several coaches had arrived here, including tourists with distinctive American accents. Although the place was crowded it was spacious enough, and with a sufficient range of first class souvenirs, including clothers, ceramics, cuddly toys, packets of food and local jewllery, to keep everyone one happy. They served free coffee, the best in Central America, our guide said. The added attraction was that the shop accepted credit cards, so they made thousands of dollars (and some tens of thousands of Costa Rica colons) were spent there this day.

Another stop, this time to taste the local wine or beer, whichever was our preference. This stop was more rural in appearance with an open air restaurant and shop where additional purchases could be made as we wandered around between various trees and flowerd bushes.

Then our coach turned off the road into a narrow track through farms and meadows inhabited by very pale coloured cattle and, less common, some atractive horses perhaps trained to be race or show horses. I always imagine horses are kept in the same enclosure as cows to make them less nervous. After about a mile along this track we came to a river with low lush green river banks, interspersed occasionally with mangrove trees. This was the River Targoles reputed and even named after its native crocodiles. We crossed a rickety swaying metal jetty on to a falt bottomed river boat with a roof big enough for our 35 person coach load. Another coach load of Borealis tourists then boarded a second boat. As we cruised southwards to towards the sea we found one whole side covered with magrove swamps which feel at home in the bracked water to be found beteen frsh river water and the more saline sea water at the river's mouth. Exon was good at desriving the multiplicity of birds sitting on the trees, or wading in the water, or flying around and above us and our boat. He named egrets, white ibis, mangrove swallows, whimbrels, kingfishers, ospreys, frigate birds, blue parrots, vultures and quite numerous and photogenic brown pelicans. It was a colourful contrast of sea, land and river birds, flyers and waders, all breeding and feeding on the river banks. Exon had eagle eyes, as well as an encyclopaedic knowledge of birds, and he not only identified the various birds, but explained their activities. There were also some beautiful butterflies. 

However, the main atraction of this river was supposed to be crocodiles, including the nesting of tiny crocodiles in between the roots of the trees in the mangrove forest. After an hour's trip up and down the river we did not see a single crocodile. Exon spotted an item in the river which he believed to be the upper part of a crocodole's head, but it soon disappeared under water, and river was too muddy to be clear. One or two of our party politly complained. So the guide said we could always throw somebody in the water, to entice them. "Who?" somebody asked. "The people who make most complaints." That caused a laugh but there were more laments. In my case it is the strory of my life. We pass through whale breeding grounds, and I see no whales. We sail down a river supposedly teeming with crocodiles, and I do not see a single one. Such is life. We returned to the coach, still pleased with the experience, We arrived back at 6pm.

One of the characteristics of both our cruise and our excursions is the number of disabled who participate. I have joked that this is a ship of wrinklies. Indeed, so it is, and I am one of them. However, it is extraordinary how many people relyimg on wheelchairs and sticks still volunteer to some of the most adventurous trips. Thanks to the sacrifice and assistance of other passengers, but especialy of the staff and the hired guides and drivers. They fold the wheelchairs and assist the handicapped in clambering onto the coach or boat, or whatever obstacle lies in their wake. It also means that it always takes longer to get on or off the coach. Mostly places are reserved for them at the front of the coach, but others have to queue to get on and wait patiently to get off a coach. A guide may suggest a 20 minute stop for a comfort break, but it may take up to 10 minutes for those at the back to get off the coach. So that is why I mention the patience of the other passengers, although there is always understanding for those with disabilities. On this occasion there was one couple, where the relatively young wife was a paraplegic, obviously after a stroke that made her lose her speech. She recorded her messages on a computer screen which she operates with her face. Moving her in and out of the coach or the river boat required parience and time. Yet nobody questioned her right to be there. As we were finally getting off the coach at the harbour, she stayed behind and as we passed her seat on the coach, she left each of us a recorded thank you for our patience. What could do but thank her in turn for her courage and that of her husband too.  

As we got back on to the boat, I noticed that a lot of cargo was being delivered into the ship's hold. In fact they were loading quite late. I did not think a tiny hamlet like Puerto Caldera was likely to be a useful supplier for the ship's main provisions. But then you never know.

Albina and I refrshed and changed and went for our dinner in the buffet restaurant. At 8.30 we went to the Neptune Theatre to watch a showing of the full Mike Todd version of "Around the World in 80 Days". To a Jules Verne lover like me it was full of trite inconsistencies and ran away from the boom version a number of times, especially in depicting a balloon journey from Paris, ending up in Spain rather than France, and a 20 minute session of flamenco dancing and bull fighting, totally irrelevant to the story. You had to alow for that as there were colourful scenes from Egypt, Bombay, Japan, Thailand and America, while the most wonderful scenes recreated Victorian London. Cameo roles of famous actors, both foreign and English, gave the film an added attraction and David Niven was at his best playing the central character of Phileas Fogg. At the time the film was a true spectacle of cinematography, but now on second viewing, a lot of the effects appear cheap. At least this time we saw the full 3 hour and 2 minute version, and not the truncated shown earlier where the film ended only 2/3 of the way through.

To add salt to the wound of our river trip, I asked an old gentleman in the lift if he had enjoyed his trip on that same river in the morning. "Oh yes," he said. "I had a crocodile at arm's length from me in the water." Well, good for you, mate. Some people have all the luck.

Later that night I finished composing an open letter to Deputy Foreign Minister Arkadiusz Mularczyk who is comiing to London on Friday to promote the Polish government's self destructive campaign to wrest $1.5 trillion out of Germany in reparations for wartime destruction of Poland. The figure may be a correct assessment of the human and material losses incurred by Poland and its people, but financially and legally it is unpayable. I have criticized this campaign before. This time I might have left it alone as I am on holiday after all, as Albina pointed out, but Mr Mularczyk is moving onto my turf, that is London, I shall include the text on my Polish langage bloc. I sent the letter at midnight by way of my contact at the Embassy. I guess he will just ignore it.