LIBERIA, Costa Rica — Our jumbo jet began its descent, then veered upward.
The fog was so thick that Juan Santamaría International Airport had shut down, so we detoured northwest from San José to the airport in Liberia, where we waited for three hours for refueling and clearer skies.
Our first day in Costa Rica seemed prophetic. Half the adventure was getting there.
On our 10-day honeymoon last November, my husband, Pavlik, and I used about every form of transportation available, including boats, planes and horses. Costa Rica, bordered by Nicaragua to the north and Panama to the south, is small, about the size of New Hampshire and Vermont combined. But its terrain is so rugged and its roads so unreliable that travel agents advise against renting a car.
For the first leg of our three-part trip, we headed to the north-central part of the country for a three-day stay in the shadow of Arenal Volcano.
Our hired driver, Gunar, met us at the airport, and drove us for three hours along winding roads. I sat up with a start when Gunar gestured to his left and said, “Arenal.” Something orange darted down a mountain.
The volcano, one of the world’s most active, was a fiery sight.
Minutes later, we arrived at Arenal Kioro Hotel, just out of range of the dangerous lava rocks that Arenal spits from its cone. From our room we had a ringside seat for volcano-watching. We had come at the end of the rainy season, a risk because fog could have masked our view. But we left the fog at the airport, and that first night, lava rocks resembling orange flashes bounced down the mountain as Arenal put on a spectacular show.
Into the rain forest
In the morning, we took a guided hike on the Arenal Hanging Bridges trail, a tourist attraction since 2003. The colors dazzled us, from the shimmering emerald greens of tree leaves to the cherry reds of the berries and flowers. Early on, we spotted howler monkeys. Known as the kings of the forest, their frequent howls are sometimes as loud as a lion’s roar. On the roughly 2-mile trek, we walked up steps and across steel bridges, suspended across layers of the rain forest.
Other tourists dart across the tree tops on zip lines, but the set of 15 bridges let us examine in detail and at our own pace the flora and fauna.
The legs of a tarantula poked out of a mud hole. Armies of leaf-cutting ants marched on the ground, carting bits of leaves several times their size.
Exotic plants, including the bird of paradise with its red beak-shaped sprout, caught our eyes. A waterfall flowed down a ravine, and at the end of the final bridge, we saw Arenal, its cone framed by the tops of palm trees.
On our last night in the region, the desk clerk woke us with a phone call, saying: “The volcano is open.” We pulled back the drapes. Arenal was streaming endless clusters of lava rocks. We oohed and aahed at the fireworks.
We had arrived at Arenal in the dark of night, and we left in early morning blackness for our second leg: three days on the Osa Peninsula along the Pacific in southwestern Costa Rica. At the airport we boarded a 12-passenger Cessna Grand Caravan, and 45 minutes later it was as if we had stepped back in time. The airport terminal in Palmar Sur was the size of a picnic shelter. Two boys plopped our bags on a push cart. The gift shop was a wooden cart with mostly T-shirts promoting the country’s motto, “Pura vida” (Pure life).
We boarded a van for a 10-minute ride to a boat dock by the Sierpe River, then sat on a bench in an outboard motor boat. The captain cranked the throttle and sped down the brownish river. A few minutes later, he stopped and pointed at a gray bird in a tree hollow and told us it was a potoo, a native nocturnal species. Minutes later, we stopped again.
“Sloth,” the captain said, pointing up at a tree. I squinted, but saw nothing.
Finally, using my camera’s zoom, I spotted the creature, snoozing upside down, its head dangling, its feet clutching a branch.
Later, we saw howler monkeys and a basilisk nicknamed the Jesus Christ lizard because it walks on water, propelling itself with its feet.
Farther ahead, a crocodile chomped on a bloated animal carcass, and a boa constrictor curled up inside a tree. The boat suddenly turned into a narrow mangrove canal, a quiet, eerie place where orange-red crabs scampered across the mangrove branches.
Leaving the canal, we approached Drake Bay, named after the explorer who, from a mountain in Panama in 1573, was the first Englishman to see the Pacific Ocean. We veered into a small river and pulled up to a dock and our destination, the Aguila de Osa Inn, accessible only by boat.
Access only by boat
Visitors travel only by boat or plane to reach the peninsula.
We adjusted quickly to the Osa rhythm. Up at 5:30 a.m., to bed around 9 p.m. If the sun didn’t wake us, white-faced monkeys did. One morning, we heard a rumbling above our heads – the monkeys were darting across the roof. We ventured outside and saw a dozen monkeys perched on, or dangling from, the branches and leaves of the palm trees.
On another excursion, we went by boat to Corcovado National Park for a hike. En route, we saw dolphins, pelicans, and brown booby birds.
The boat pulled near shore, and we waded quickly through nearly thigh-deep water in a river that flows near the park. Our guide, Tony, warned us not to dawdle because crocodiles like this water. Entering the rain forest, we encountered coatimundis, raccoon-like animals, sinking their teeth into coconuts. High up in the trees, we caught glimpses of spider, howler, and white-faced monkeys. Midway through, we took a break by a small waterfall and, drawn by pelicans playing in the waves, we walked out on volcanic rocks that jutted into the sea. The sky was a startling blue.
For the final leg of our vacation, we spent four days on the Nicoya Peninsula, in west central Costa Rica. We flew to the area’s airport, with its one landing strip, and took a van to Tango Mar, a seaside resort. The main pool was the draw our first afternoon. The next day, our taste for exploring not yet dulled, we hiked along the resort’s nature path to the stables for a horseback ride to Montezuma, billed as an artists’ mecca.
Reuben, our guide, led us by horse across the resort’s manicured lawns and into a much more rustic world. The ride was not for the faint of heart.
Reuben used a machete to clear branches and palm leaves as we snaked along narrow paths, some near sandy cliffs. We rode into a river nearly as high as the horses’ bellies, and my stomach fluttered until we reached land. We saw iguanas and more howler monkeys. The most pristine part of the ride was on the beach, where a waterfall spilled into the sea. It was also the fastest part; the horses, catching sight of the beach, hit full stride.
When we reached Montezuma, a seaside strip of less than a dozen shops and restaurants, just a few stores had arts and crafts. The journey by horse had trumped the destination.
Our last day, we left Nicoya in a six-passenger Piper Aztec, catching a final glimpse of the region’s beautiful vistas, its beaches and volcanic mountain ranges. From the first day to the last, our trip had been filled with adventures big and small.
DIA to San José
Frontier Airlines will begin nonstop service from Denver International Airport to San José, Costa Rica, on Nov. 30. Round-trip flights run Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Initial fares average $350-$400 round trip before taxes and fees.
