Costa Rica 4

This has been rather a gentle day for me, Gentle Reader.  I slept long and well, following a previous night of less than ideal sleep and despite my grumpiness yesterday I soldiered on, exhausting myself.  The hills here are incredibly steep.  What goes down must come up, and this I try to remember every time I am walking downhill.    I still got in around ten miles, or we could say sixteen kilometres, of walking, but not all at once.

Instead of blowing a wad in a pricey cafe somewhere I stayed here at the bed and breakfast till noon, working on the quetzal drawing.  I took a break for a two mile walk as I was getting a little sore in the nether regions from sitting so long on a hard chair.  It was worth it though, not just for the artwork that I got done and not just for having the beautiful gardens and lovely hummingbirds to look at through the window, but also for the friendly contact with some of the family who run this bed and breakfast, the elder son and both his parents.  They are lovely, warm and welcoming people and we seem to have already generated a good mutual fondness.  The father is a talented woodcarver and showed me some of his plaques, including of a quetzal and two distinct faces of nature spirit like bearded old men whom he calls the spirit of the cloud forest.

Speaking of people, I have decded to make as part of my theme for this trip the notion that people matter more than places.  I think this has always been the gist of my travel experience, not to add new and exotic locales to my bucket list but to meet, know and appreciate other people in different settings.  This is why I dont think I really do the tourist thing and I hope that I never will.

I have to learn to stop eavesdropping on other guests during breakfast.  We never talk to one another, as almost everyone here travels as a couple or a family group, and I dont feel excluded since I dont really feel like talking to anyone outside the people who run the place.  This could change later. And I certainly wont shun anyone for reaching out to me.  Still, it isnt that I end up picking up on scandalous details of their personal lives, but rather, I find myself sometimes wanting to kick their ass for being such self centred putzes.  Like this pudgy American hipster with his hair in a man bun griping and whining like a spoiled rich kid who didnt get the right flavour of gourmet ice cream on his birthday cake, to his significant other about everything he was hating about being here so far.  Of course I kept my pie hole shut, was kind of relieved when they were gone, or him at least, since I suspect his partner to be quite a nice person, perhaps which is why she can put up with him.  Or maybe he doesnt do mornings well, is having a bad day, or I mean, why not give him the benefit of the doubt.  I sure dont know whats going on in his life.

I saw my first morpho butterfly today, since coming here.  Here is a Google image to refresh your memory.




These butterlies are huge! Does it get any lovelier.  Well, yes, it does.  To the naked eye anyway.  Try to imagine the purest essence of the colour blue and you will have an idea of how one of these butterflies looks in the open sunlight.

I also feasted my eyes on a small group, too small to be a flock, of troupials.  At least I think they were troupials.






Once again the photo doesnt do the bird justice.  Try and visualize the purest essence of the colour orange and you will get an idea of  how they really look.

All for now.