I basically have the same daily routine as I appear to be aging into a real creature of habit. I had yet another night of segmented sleep. I was so exhausted last night that I fell asleep before nine then woke up at around two am. I lay awake for a couple of hours, then got up, had a shower and got dressed. Following some artwork I went back to sleep at around six or so then got up just before eight and I do feel fairly rested today. Following breakfast, as usual, I stayed in the dining room to work on a drawing, sometimes while chatting in Spanish with Estaban the manager of the bed and breakfast. At around eleven I walked down to Stella´s bakery cafe, the local legend. When I first visited Stella´s in 1994 it was much smaller and had a warmer, cosier vibe. This was before big tourism really hit Monteverde and most of the local visitors were backpackers and other bohemians like your humble scribe here. It was also a lot smaller. And cheaper. Way cheaper. Somewhere along the way the price range completely lost its moral compass and spiraled astronomically. Today I paid the equivalent of $3.50 Canadian for a cup of coffee that would have set me back, maybe two bucks in Vancouver, which as we all know is the world´s third most expensive city following Sydney and Hong Kong. On the other hand, the staff there are nice and very pleasant. I was watching their bird feeders from where I was seated, but they only attracted a rather large squirrel, which might have been frightening off the birdies. Did I already mention that there are squirrels, here, Gentle Reader? Rather like our own in Vancouver, a bit bigger and with slightly different coloration, besides the sunglasses and the bar drinks with pink parasols they carry everywhere, not to mention their funny beach hats. Okay, I made up the bit about the beach hats.
I fondly remember Stella from during my first visit to Monteverde during the nineties. I am told she is still with us, and would be in her late eighties. She settled here in Monteverde many decades ago from the UK, a gifted painter, and really a lovely person with a great sense of humour. We struck up quite a friendly rapport and I remember helping her arrange some of her paintings she had on display in her coffee shop. Those days are long gone and will be always fondly remembered by me.
I hiked up to the Curi-Cancha reserve again. The young fellow working there gave me an even more generous discount on my entrance fee this time. I think I already mentioned that I eat every day at the soda where his mother works and I do accept this kindness as a sign of gratitude, as well as evidence of kindness and friendship. I think people really appreciate my efforts at communicating in Spanish with them and I certainly appreciate their patience with me as I stumble sometimes with the language and their gentle way of correcting my errors.
I saw another morpho butterfly in the reserve, one of those famously blue giants, lots of hummingbirds and a motmot. Still no quetzals. There weren´t any tour groups of birders around to make their day difficult for them. I guess I´m particularly concerned that they are being frightened and traumatized by all the innocent interest people take in them because they are not a very common bird and at times they do hover rather dangerously near to the endangered category. As well as being incredibly beautiful, they do not adapt that well to change and I would hate to see them decrease even more in population because of the extreme, if well-meaning interest being taken in them. I only wish they could learn to adapt better, maybe become nice and aggressive like crows during the nesting season. Now wouldn´t that be a sight: aggressive nesting quetzals divebombing and attacking human interlopers to their nesting territory and carrying off their Tilly hats to use as nesting material. It would be win-win. The quetzals would feel safer and more respected while making themselves more visible for their beauty to be enjoyed.
There were a few more humans present than last time and I have to admit, I prefer nature unpeopled, so I really try to get away from groups when I´m out in the forest. The hiking hasn´t been quite so exhausting today, maybe because I´m getting in shape from all the mega-hiking. Did I tell you that my belt is down by two notches, since I arrived here? And it isn´t just my imagination. My clothes are loser than ever. I only hope I can maintain this momentum when I return home instead of gaining back all the weight I have lost.
While eating in the soda this afternoon I was joined by one of the local American Quakers who works in the school here. He is from New York and we had a really interesting conversation, almost all in Spanish. We talked a lot about the huge ideological gulf that seems to be dividing the people of the US and in Europe. I hope to meet him again.
People, both in Stella´s and in the soda took interest in my art today. In Stella´s a Parisian lady of a certain age who was here with seven other retired French people (yes, I did count them as I do have a lot of time on my hands these days), who spoke not a word of Spanish or English, stood by me to look at my drawing and became very curious about my materials, so we still were able to communicate. Good will really tends to connect people better than almost anything else, I´d say.
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