Saturday 30 May we packed our gear, left the cabañas and walked down to the Ranch in Mastatal. Our internship was still a week away delayed by the impending arrival of Tim and Robin´s baby (Tim and Robin are the dynamic duo behind Rancho Mastatal). We decided to spend the night at the Ranch (great place and great food, but more in the next edition!) and then spend our spare week at the beach exploring Costa Rica´s famous Manuel Antonio national park. This is a story about how we got there and what what happened after that!
Dan´s talked about the unseasonal heavy rains that we had last week and the effects on the roads hereabouts. Our first challenge was that Mastatal was cut off and public transport further afield was uncertain. No bus or truck could pass the narrow ledge that remained of the local road. So what do you do in a situation like that? You walk and see what happens! Thus we set off 06.45 Sunday morning with one backpack, two daypacks, and two breakfast bars...
Within 5 minutes downhill, I was feeling the heat and sweating. There is no more delicate way to put it. It is hot here, especially when the sun shines. It was a sunny morning and a blue morpho butterfly flapped by tantalisingly out of reach as we plodded down the road munching our breakfast bars. The downhill bit lasted a kilometre or so, down to the river over the first bridge, over a small rise to cross a second tributary. Then the real walk began, about 4km up to the top of the next hill.
At this point I should say that Dan carried most of the weight. I was bent almost double with my little bag trying to get my body going step by dripping step. Yuck. We even got overtaken by a couple of local guys on bicycles! Great view, but I was looking at my feet most of the time, willing the next step to come and imagining inches peeling away.... anyway, after a few refreshment stops, got to keep drinking here, we made it to the top. Soon we saw where half the road had slipped down the hill taking power lines with it. Local men were on the case digging into the hill to widen the way. We passed by and I almost blessed the man who offered to give us a lift that last kilometre to the bustop at crossroads ‘El Cruce’.
There was a crowd already waiting for the bus. Seven American WWOOF volunteers and their two Tican hosts from a farm near Mastatal. It was their day off and they were headed to Jaco, the surfer beach. Somehow they had got their battered pick-up (complete with three crates of imperial beer) past the road damage. I’m glad I wasn´t watching! It was now 8.20am and we settled to wait for the 8.30 bus. And waited... it was good to sit down, but there was a nagging feeling of “we’re not walking back!”. Each vehicle and motorbike that passed stopped to share conflicting news. The roads are good = the bus is coming; no the bus isn´t coming.
By 10.00, we figured the bus wasn´t coming. The guys with the truck took pity and spotted a financial opportunity. They offered to drive us to the coastal town of Parrita where we could get buses to Quepos and Jaco respectively, in exchange for 4000 colones (about 4 pounds) per person for petrol. Yes please!! The beer was moved out of the back of the truck behind the front seats. Three sat in the front, eight in the back (the maths is 2 Ticans + 7 Americans + 2 glad Brits) with our various bags and the spare tyre.
We bumped our way down to Parrita, didn´t fall out, had a loo and drink stop, before arriving in Parrita at about 11.45am. This was our second bus stop of the day next to a wide screen blaring football, sports bar, populated by half a dozen locals. The locals are relevant. We soon parted ways with our new American friends, but Javier, their host had asked folk at the stop if anyone was headed to Quepos. Some children were. OK. We were to follow them! We did, good job, because the bus came from a road we hadn´t expected it two. Now the time was 12.45pm. And we were on route again.
Forty five minutes later and we arrived in the small coastal town of Quepos. We´d seen a lot of devastation along the coast from the recent floods and some interesting bridges - single file, metal constructions. These are worth a small description... imagine two metal supports across the river, then picture driving across metal rods (what´s left of the country´s railway lines) sitting on the supports. It´s basic, but it works. Concrete bridges are under construction and have been for years, I guess it´ll be a while longer before they are finished!
In Quepos, after some refreshment, booking a hotel and withdrawing some cash, we boarded our last bus for the day which took us out of town, up the hill and yet closer to the national park. At 2.30pm we made it to the Mono Azul hotel (no more orphan sloths I´m afraid), showers, siestas and a couple of strong pre-dinner margheritas! We had decided to stay there three nights before transferring to a cheaper hostel adjacent to the park called the Costa Linda.
We were now set to explore the national park, just a 15 minute bus ride away!
The short version is that the park is amazing and the beaches are beautiful. The slightly longer version is that we only went into the park one day (out a week stay)! Having arrived Sunday, we discovered that on Monday the park is closed. So we went to the public beach instead, which was still great (see photos). The water was warm, waves bracing... people learn to surf here and we did get washed up to shore a couple of times! It was great fun.
Then later that evening shopping for groceries in Quepos, Dan felt lightheaded and ill. He´d had too much sun from not wearing a hat swimming (hair does a good job too...). Tuesday he was in bed resting and being pumped full of water by me. Wednesday we moved to the hostel and Dan had more bed rest. Thursday we made it to the park and the most beautiful beach I have ever been on. Only 4 people on its 800m length. In case you´ve been here before, it wasn´t the nudist beach! Dan sat in the shade well covered or so we thought.
Oh no. He wore shorts in the shade and never ventured into direct sun, but by the time we were back at the hostel his shins were pink. Next morning (Friday) they were blistered and by Saturday you would be forgiven for thinking he had 2nd degree burns.
We will return to Manuel Antonio before we leave Mastatal, fully prepared for the sun and ready to do the place justice!
