Yet another quick breakfast under pressure of boarded buses. Let's be clear, touring with Kulshan Chorus is not a vacation schedule. But, well worth the lost sleep. Besides, after a bit of Sudoku and Brandi Carlisle, I was out like a light for a favourite personal experience: sleeping in a moving vehicle.
I awoke in time to watch the hills give way to a view of the sea - a new view of the Pacific Ocean than I had seen before at just under 10 degrees latitude. Regardless, it feels like a homecoming every time I see the ocean no matter where I am in the world. Having grown up in the city of Benicia in the San Francisco Bay Area I became very familiar with the Northern California coastline and count the coastal regions of Sonoma and Mendocino counties as my favourite place in the world. I was able to make it up there in May on a trip with my father where we explored some of the beaches and coves where his father and grandfather took him fishing and diving for abalone as a child. My great-grandfather and the generations before him hailed from the island of Santa Maria in the Azore Islands of Portugal, people with a long and abiding relationship with the sea. I sigh, smile, and await our arrival.
I awoke in time to watch the hills give way to a view of the sea - a new view of the Pacific Ocean than I had seen before at just under 10 degrees latitude. Regardless, it feels like a homecoming every time I see the ocean no matter where I am in the world. Having grown up in the city of Benicia in the San Francisco Bay Area I became very familiar with the Northern California coastline and count the coastal regions of Sonoma and Mendocino counties as my favourite place in the world. I was able to make it up there in May on a trip with my father where we explored some of the beaches and coves where his father and grandfather took him fishing and diving for abalone as a child. My great-grandfather and the generations before him hailed from the island of Santa Maria in the Azore Islands of Portugal, people with a long and abiding relationship with the sea. I sigh, smile, and await our arrival.
We arrived at the Hotel Villa Playa Samara, near Carrillo Beach in the town of Samara. This was to be our all-inclusive home for the next two nights. Given the demographics of our group, this was the first time that many of us had ever stayed at an all-inclusive resort which stood as a sharp contrast to the home stays and cabins of our earlier destinations. It was much like a cruise ship on land with a list of free libations and buffet meals during scheduled hours. Although we had arrived too early for check-in and were not eligible for some of the perks until the afternoon, folks wasted no time stashing their luggage in our storage room, slipping into their swimsuits, and paddling over to the swim-up bar in the pool. It didn't take long for us to adjust to an itinerary that included no concerts, no rehearsals, no tours, and only optional activities.
Some of us did choose the optional activities, myself included. I put my name down for kayaking, horseback riding, and turtle watching over the next two days, figuring I might as well do some big ticket items now before I have to start paying for lodging (I wrote a check for the Kulshan tour months ago so it is easy to pretend that this hotel is magically free). First up, kayaking! We were able to squeeze in a quick lunch and then met our guides from Carrillo Tours at the gates of the hotel. They drove us out to our launch station in two vans which easily navigated the dirt roads and even drive through the river, snaking around the foundations of a bridge that would someday help avoid this aspect of the adventure.
At the riverfront we found our partners and boarded our kayaks. In my infinite wisdom I asked Geovanny to be my rowing mate knowing this would be one of the last times I would see him and because he used to work as an outdoor adventure guide and was sure to be a strong paddler. We dipped our ores in the water and set off toward the open ocean. I had forgotten that Geovanny was an avid bird watcher which gave me an added benefit as we floated past the flying wildlife. Through the day we would spot the Roseate Spoonbill, a Kingfisher, and a Common Brown Hawk that perched just above our heads and stared with curiosity as we moved beneath him in the water. The mangrove trees growing into the water reminded me of my time in Florida as a child and I brain fired joyful synapses connecting tropical flora to fond memories.
We pulled our kayaks ashore at the mouth of the river where the ocean was beating against a black sand beach. Our crew opened coolers with cold beverages and laid out a spread of fresh fruit including the juiciest and sweetest pineapple I'd eaten in Costa Rica. We wandered the beach and spoke to one another of the coastline's beauty and our awe of powerful waves as they tossed pebbles on the shore. Dashana and I gave in to our childlike impulses and spun cartwheels into the surf. We lingered a while and then took back to the river, back toward our vans, wading through the river on foot for the final leg of the journey. It felt so nice to be out in the sun (with sunscreen, Kevin) and to use my bus-atrophied muscles. Sorry, no pictures - didn't want to risk camera getting wet. We'll see if someone else sends a few along.
Back at the hotel I made a quick turn around shower before plopping into the pool. The bar was crowded with thirsty chorusters, overwhelming the solo barkeep, Martin, a French Canadian with a gentle smile that seemed well suited to his seeming infinite patience. One guaro sour, coming up! Floating, and singing, and sipping. Getting comfortable with my new surroundings. The dinner hour rolled around and I left the pool in favor of fresh mahi mahi. A local local singer played a set as I hurriedly finished my meal and walked back to the gate for the evening's activity: sea turtles!
At the riverfront we found our partners and boarded our kayaks. In my infinite wisdom I asked Geovanny to be my rowing mate knowing this would be one of the last times I would see him and because he used to work as an outdoor adventure guide and was sure to be a strong paddler. We dipped our ores in the water and set off toward the open ocean. I had forgotten that Geovanny was an avid bird watcher which gave me an added benefit as we floated past the flying wildlife. Through the day we would spot the Roseate Spoonbill, a Kingfisher, and a Common Brown Hawk that perched just above our heads and stared with curiosity as we moved beneath him in the water. The mangrove trees growing into the water reminded me of my time in Florida as a child and I brain fired joyful synapses connecting tropical flora to fond memories.
We pulled our kayaks ashore at the mouth of the river where the ocean was beating against a black sand beach. Our crew opened coolers with cold beverages and laid out a spread of fresh fruit including the juiciest and sweetest pineapple I'd eaten in Costa Rica. We wandered the beach and spoke to one another of the coastline's beauty and our awe of powerful waves as they tossed pebbles on the shore. Dashana and I gave in to our childlike impulses and spun cartwheels into the surf. We lingered a while and then took back to the river, back toward our vans, wading through the river on foot for the final leg of the journey. It felt so nice to be out in the sun (with sunscreen, Kevin) and to use my bus-atrophied muscles. Sorry, no pictures - didn't want to risk camera getting wet. We'll see if someone else sends a few along.
Back at the hotel I made a quick turn around shower before plopping into the pool. The bar was crowded with thirsty chorusters, overwhelming the solo barkeep, Martin, a French Canadian with a gentle smile that seemed well suited to his seeming infinite patience. One guaro sour, coming up! Floating, and singing, and sipping. Getting comfortable with my new surroundings. The dinner hour rolled around and I left the pool in favor of fresh mahi mahi. A local local singer played a set as I hurriedly finished my meal and walked back to the gate for the evening's activity: sea turtles!
We drove through the dark with guides from the same tour company until we arrived at a small wooden building near the ocean. We split into groups and followed our leaders down the path to the beach by flashlight. Without light pollution in any direction the entire celestial sky was available for viewing. We scoured the sand with a red light (turtles are spooked by white light but do not detect red or green) searching for turtle tracks which might lead us to our find. Alas, we came upon a female turtle who had crawled up from the water, high on the beach where vegetation took root, and dug a hole to lay her eggs. She can lay as many as 120 eggs in a single "clutch" before she buries them and tries to camouflage the site. The force she used to pack the sand with her whole body was impressive - loud thuds as she lifted herself and smacked down upon the ground. As part of a conservation effort, the eggs are moved to a secure location to save them from poachers and hungry critters. The eggs are considered a delicacy in some places and Costa Rica does allow for their collection during the first three days of the laying season in which thousands of turtles lay hundreds of thousands of eggs. When her mission was completed she turned and strode back to the sea, a parade of tourists walking slowly behind her, an army of turtle doulas cheering her onward.
The guides took time for questions and answers and then showed us the way back to the check-in station for a short presentation. Geovanny and his girlfriend, Kaley, and I followed another guide further up the beach looking for another mother-to-be turtle. Though we didn't find turtles we did get to enjoy the bioluminescent plankton on the sand which can also be found on the Washington coasts. Between the walk and the ride home I had a chance to connect more with Kaley who first came to Costa Rica in 2007 to study international law at the University for Peace, a UN mandated university with a mission to:
"provide humanity with an international institution of higher education for peace with the aim of promoting among all human beings the spirit of understanding, tolerance and peaceful coexistence, to stimulate cooperation among peoples and to help lessen obstacles and threats to world peace and progress, in keeping with the noble aspirations proclaimed in the Charter of the United Nations.”Don't think I haven't looked at their program offerings... Kevin, I think you'll like Costa Rica!
Back to the hotel and back in the pool, of course. No need to wait to find a towel and conveniently with a swimsuit already under my shorts. It was an evening of soaking, floating, splashing, and sitting under the water feature. We drank and sang, swigging at least 3 shots of cacique before the evening's end. Charlie led us in rounds of Irish drinking songs at the bar. I was fortunate to have the singing moment I had wanted the whole trip: harmony for Sonja Lee on Imagine, by John Lennon. We laughed and played and sang the night away as folks departed for their rooms. Charlie, Mama Heidi, Mike New and I found ourselves alone in the pool talking about the entirety of the trip, which Charlie felt had been the best Kulshan tour yet. I had a chance to tell Charlie what a great man and role model he is – someone that I want to be more like in my life. We hugged it out.
I was the last one out of the pool after sending Mama ahead with key so I
could run to warmth of our room from the water. Sadly, I forgot that the AC was on in our room and nearly died of shock upon entering. I thawed in the shower and we played music and told
stories before turning off the lights. I struggled with sleepy, cacique laden eyes to take notes on the day and feel asleep sitting up with my computer open on my lap. Sleep doth overcome me.
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