Fifth Time In Costa Rica, 11

Last night brought my first fly in the ointment during an otherwise flawless stay so far. The hotel next door occasionally throws a disco party, likely for ``special`` guests. Same as last year. That`s right, Gentle Reader, two hours or more of thudding and thumping disco and classic rock and who knows whatever godawful noise, in the semi wilderness, for those who want to forget where they are, miles away from diversions and distractions, and likely living in dread primal terror of having to face with the raw power of nature and the pathetic emptiness of their tiny little immortal souls. It didn`t go on too late, just until ten, but I usually want to bed down at around nine, and the music was so loud that not even earplugs helped,so I went up to the main house. There was nothing the manager could do because apparently the owners of that place have quite an attitude of impunity and they do have to coexist as neighbours, but at least they are compliant with the local noise bylaws and do turn it down at or before ten. So, to make it tolerable, given that they are likely to do this sort of thing more than once during my stay here, we`ve agreed that I will just sit in the reception area, where it isn`t as loud, with earplugs as needed, and a book to read, and when all is quiet I can return to my room. Not too bad, considering, and it wasn`t as hard as I feared it would be getting back to sleep and more or less staying asleep, except for waking briefly a couple of times. I like to think of this as an exercise in being adaptable and flexible, though it is a bit hard to restrain myself from going over there and chewing them out, which I was going to do, but the manager advised against it. Not to mention, who only knows what other horrors could get unleashed if I stick my nose there. For the record, the offending hotel is named Villa Verde, and because they are such crappy neighbours, should any of you want to visit Monteverde, please do not stay there. Thank you. In other news, I did have a lovely early start, and without difficulty, pulled myself out of bed at five this morning and treated myself to a pot of some of the local coffee, which is provided on the house in my room with little packets of coffee grown in a plantation just a couple of miles from here and a little coffee maker. Delicious way to start the morning, seated on the bench outside my door and staring at the beautiful natural foliage of the vast garden while listening to the morning birds. The breakfast room was already full when I came in, and I cheerily announced to everybody, in Spanish, then in English, ``Feliz viernes!``, ``Happy Friday!`` There was a bit of laughter, but honestly, I did it not for the attention, but out of pure happiness and good will, and to rattle a few cages, because some of the guests can get pretty self-absorbed. Now, I am not one to invade other people`s space, but on the other hand, it doesn`t hurt to let them know that should they so choose, my space is quite invadible, within reason of course. So, I had an interesting chat again with the couple from New York. Honestly, I don`t think that I`ve ever met a New Yorker that I haven`t liked. I really think that if I was an American, I would probably be a New Yorker. Generally, I find them to be open-minded, warm, tough as nails and refreshingly honest. I also chatted for a while with the British fellow in the next room. I guess he`d be around my age, widowed six years ago and I sense to be still in mourning. He is here on his own. A die-hard birder, so we had some interesting conversations around that theme. We also talked about why British people are less than likely to speak a second language. He thinks it`s because English is the global language of commerce. I think it`s because they live on an island. Chatting with this chap also really highlights for me how different is my way of travelling from others. He takes cabs everywhere. I walk, no matter the distance. He tries to go to special places to see different bird species and it likely ends up costing him a small fortune. Because I walk and take my time, I likely see just as many birds as he does, without having to try very hard. And he even admitted that when he let himself hold still long enough in the gardens here at the inn, that he was amazed at how many different birds he was able to spot and identify in the trees and bushes. Of course, he is just here for a few days, I`m here for a month, so I don`t feel much the pressure of time for getting things done. I`m trying to use up all my half-spent pencil crayons right now, and with interesting results. It`s kind of like going into the fridge and taking out all the leftover and close to expiry date food, and throwing everything together in the pot to see what happens. Then I did a moderately long walk, enjoyed some more bench time at the lookout point for the Nicoya Peninsula, then walked on a side road. I entered a small path into the forest then sat for a while on a fallen tree, just mesmerised by the lush growth around me and the leaves glittering green-gold in the sunlight. I was a bit watchful for snakes, recalling my first time in Monteverde when I was nearly bitten by a fer de lance, a highly dangerous species of viper. I did get away just in time, but honestly, when I saw the snake, I felt curious, since the only snakes I`d ever seen in the past were the harmless garter snakes that thrive in my part of Canada, and I used to pick them up and handle them with impunity. Now, I`m a little more careful. Afterward I enjoyed a frightfully expensive cup of coffee at the Cafe Escondido, which is hidden away. It cost around $4.30 Canadian. I also met a semi-friendly Canadian couple, fiftiesh, early Gen X and from Saskatchewan, so a bit on the Conservative side, but who am I to judge? Nice people, anyway and that`s what really matters. Later I stopped in Jimenez, the bakery cafe. The ladies who work there are cousins and they own the place. Very kind and friendly people and very reasonable prices. For a hot chocolate and piece of cake I paid only $3.46. After walking for a while longer, I sat on a rock warmed by sun on the side of the road. Does anyone else like sitting on rocks? If you do, then please leave a comment. I have loved sitting on rocks since I was maybe, fourteen, when I used to go on long solitary hikes in the woods in Stanley Park and elsewhere. There was a big rock by one of the paths overlooking Siwash Rock (soon to be renamed, because the word Siwash is Chinnook for savage, and understandably First Nations people, or a lot of them anyway, find the association offensive.) Anyway, I would sit on this rock in the woods and just close my eyes and try to meditate, though nothing really seemed to happen, which is just as well, because it last gave me time to be still a bit. It probably was a bit unsafe for me to be wandering alone like that, but at that age I didn`t really have any close friends so I tended to do everything on my own. It isn`t that there was anything particularly wrong with me, or the other kids in school and in my neighbourhood. I think we were just on different wavelengths and I didn`t have the good fortune of knowing anyone that I had anything in common with. This could also be why I`ve always been a bit of a risk taker. Often it`s seemed that if I didn`t go ahead and be like, damn the torpedoes, then nothing would ever happen in my life. You know, Gentle Reader, it hasn`t always been easy, and sometimes I`ve gotten myself into a lot of trouble for this, and you know something else? I would do it all over again. It has all been worth it. Big hug!