Rammstein-Miesenbach, Germany

Today we woke up nice and early and headed outside into the *freezing* morning air. Luckily, that was just for a few moments until Erin backed the car out of the garage and her mom and I could jump inside. Erin took us on a tour of the base (by car, so we could avoid that pesky hypothermia) and then dropped us back off at home so that she could go to work.

Charlotte headed upstairs for an anti-jetlag power nap, and I headed downstairs to do some laundry and to get some client work done. (I can’t ever forget that I don’t have “real” vacations like “normal” people–40% of my waking time has got to be plugged into my laptop!)

After all that excitement, we headed outside to do some hiking. I showed Charlotte the “path” to the lake… In other words, we made our random way up the hills in more or less the same wandering direction as the first time I happened to come across the lake. We then tried to make our way back via the paved roads, which totally didn’t work out the way we’d hoped. However, getting a little lost let us do some sightseeing we wouldn’t otherwise have done, and we managed to find our way back to Erin’s house on our own, without having to resort to direction-asking.

While in the woods, we did not come across any strange creatures (such as dinosaurs or snakebots) but we did make friends with a few horses. We also found a poster detailing the larger creatures of the forest, which appear to include a dozen variety of deer/moose/elk/bison/goats.

As to that topic, have you ever run across wildlife when out and about? I want to hear your animal-encounter stories! =)

Tags: hiking

Miesenbach, Germany & Kusel, Germany

This morning I wake up, get around, do some work, and head outside to go hiking. Erin told me about a lake with trails about a 7 minute walk from her house, just past an apple orchard. So, I head off in the direction she’d pointed out with my backpack and a bottle of cranberry juice (I didn’t have bottled water) and set out on my merry way.

Seven minutes go by as I traverse the winding road, followed by another seven. No lake. The twisting road forks. Twice.

Erin hadn’t mentioned any forking going on, so I randomly pick a path and continue walking. Another seven minutes of no lake tick by, and I begin to suspect that the lake was really a “lake”, a trick designed to be rid of me forever, a la Hansel and Gretel.

Wandering on the edge of a dense cabbage patch, I hear a strange sound, kind of a metallic rattle, and double-check my camera (which hangs around my neck in true tourist fashion.) The camera was off, but I might have left it on, since it turns itself off automatically.

Shrugging, I continue on and in a few more steps… again, the mechanical rattling. I realize the sound is not coming from me or my camera, but from the tall, tangled grass alongside the muddy pathway. Another five or six feet later, the rattle is accompanied by movement within the underbrush.

At this point, I’m convinced that rattle snakes run rampant throughout the path to the “lake”. Robotic ones. Vicious, evil, snakebots.

Then up ahead I see the edges of what could conceivably be called an apple orchard, although there were only a couple rows of sparse trees. Assuming the lake is on the other side and that Erin merely counts to seven in some weird new way, I stride resolutely down the dirt trail, doing my best to ignore the warning rattle of the animatronic snakes hiding in the overgrowth alongside the path.

Seven minutes later, I’m past the apple trees and into the woods. No more mechanical snakes, but still no lake. Curiouser and curiouser.

A watery trail snakes into the woods, and I roll up my pant legs before sloshing down the spongy dirt path. The lake must be on the other side of the woods, I tell myself. I’ll just follow the trail to the lake, and *then* I’ll be seven minutes from Erin’s house. No problem.

Seven minutes later, the trail forks, one path climbing up the hill, the other curving around below. Deciding I’d be better off taking the high road (ach, Loch Lomond) so I’d have more of a bird’s eye view, I tromp gaily along the path until it, well, ends. Not to be deterred, I continue making my way through the trees until I rediscover the path. Or, “a” path, since I cannot be sure whether this continues the trail I’d already been on or was part of a different trajectory altogether.

Another, oh, say, seven minutes go by. No lake (of course) but what I do stumble upon (thank goodness not literally) is a fly-laden pile of animal excrement, so massive that it covers the whole trail and I have to pick my way through the moss and the grass to get around it.

Snakebots are the least of my concern, now that I realize the woods contains elephants, or maybe dinosaurs. Erin totally didn’t mention that the trails led through the original site for Jurassic Park and that I ought to watch my back for the occasional Tyrannosaur.

The next few times the trail twists and forks, I pick a path completely at random because hey–if there are velociraptors gadding about, what does it really matter?

So now I continue along, marching to an internal recitation of Frost (the woods are lovely, dark and deep) and wondering if maybe I should’ve chosen a different path on one of the many forks I’d passed.

But at the foot of a cluster of trees, I come across a giant marker, affixed with a poster of woodland critters and their names. The whole thing was in German (of which I mostly know words like “und”, “grosse/kliene”, and the conjugation of “to be”) but based on the pictures, there are neither robotic snakes nor ankylosaurs.

(Allegedly.)

Luckily, in another seven minutes or so, a break in the trees affords a view of houses and a horse farm, and once the path leads out of the trees I do in fact come across water. Yay!

A bridge bisects the picturesque lake, and various people walk around its circumference, jogging, pushing strollers, walking dogs, smoking cigarettes, etc.

One corner of the lake even has a paved road, which a quick peek determines that it leads to a four-way (paved) intersection. One of those streets must lead back to Erin’s house. But which one?

A quick glance at my watch tells me I have 25 minutes until Erin gets off work and heads home. If the seven minute trail truly exists, that should be plenty of time to return before she has a chance to worry about where I might be. Of course, since I didn’t *arrive* via the correct path, I had absolutely no idea which road I should take. And as I walk around the lake, I realize that almost all of its “corners” lead to roads with further intersections. If I took one, I’d either get back quickly… or get really, really, lost.

So, since I’m of the “always be prepared” mentality when travelling alone, I fish in my backpack for the sticky note on which I’d written the name of her street before leaving the house. All I had to do was ask someone which direction to go, and I’d be home free.

However. (You knew there’d be a however, didn’t you?)

Not only had no one by the lake even heard of Erin’s street, the question I most frequently got in return was, “Well, what town is it in?”

???

“What town?” I manage. “What do you mean, ‘what town’? What town are we in right now?”

Come to find out, we weren’t exactly in a town right now. The lake occurs at the intersection between various towns and is shared by them all. Depending on if I wanted to go to this town or that town, I should head up this hill or down that hill or around that corner or along that field.

Since I, in my infinite wisdom, had utterly failed to write down more than the street name, I had no idea how to get back except… back through Jurassic Park, up the hill, past the cabbage patch and the snakebots, and through the serpentine neighborhood streets to Erin’s house.

According to my watch, I wouldn’t make it in time. As it turned out, my watch was right.

Erin was home and changed by the time I got there. (I, at that time, learned that we were in Miesenbach. Good to know.) She said she was going to give me another 15 minutes before driving around looking for me, which would have done neither of us any good since I was nowhere near any paved streets.

All’s well that ends well, of course, so we piled into the car and headed to Kusel to visit the castle. (The Kusel Castle? I sound like Dr. Seuss.) This castle is cool for several reasons beyond the basic all-castles-are-cool foundation. First, it’s right in the middle of a semi-residential area (unlike, say, Neuschwanstein) so there’s an intriguing vista of old and new mixing together. Secondly, it houses a restaurant in which you can (and we did!) eat dinner.

We had a great time exploring the grounds and climbing up the winding steps to the top of the tallest tower and looking out the windows at the panorama below. Castle towers always have such amazing views. Since I like to read books set in Medieval times (OK, I read novels set in basically any time period) I had fun imagining how it would’ve been like to live there, with the people bustling about and rushes covering the floors and so on. (I’m pretty sure that the view from the top at that time did *not* include a two-lane highway.)

Fun photos attached of our adventures in the Kusel castle (later discovered to be called Lichtenburg castle). Link to more info: http://www.burglichtenberg.de/en/index.htm

Tags: animals, castles & palaces, hiking, lost, travel tips

Gooooood Morning, Madrid!

OK, so technically I didn’t sleep. It’s a good morning anyway!

I went to El Corte Ingles about a hundred times, mostly because it just has everything. And at the Metro stop where I am (Sol) there’s 3, count ‘em, 3 Cortes Ingleses. One has a main floor, 7 upper floors, and 2 basements. That’s the one that has the post office (I mailed a post card) the supermercado (I bought some cheese and melocoton juice) and the travel agency (I got an adaptor for my laptop ’cause I have no clue what happened to the last one.) Not the converter thing–my laptop has its own. Just the do-hickey that changes the plug from flat-prong to round-prong. And I had a devil of a time describing it, because I totally don’t know the word for “prong”. So I picked up a European plug, pointed to the round metal prongs, and said (en espanol, of course) What do you call these here thingamabobbers? And the cashier blinked, squinted, shrugged, and said, “I don’t know.” So I said, “I don’t know either, but mine are flat and I need an adapter to make them round.” And he said ohhhhhh and gave me the right thing. So I’m fine now.

At the other Corte I bought a AA battery charger, because the last two times I brought a US one, I fried them on accident. Figured I might as well suck it up and get a European one so I don’t have to worry about it. The 3rd Corte is a massive bookstore, which I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to go inside, since the last time I did, Bri and I ended up paying exorbitant “your suitcase is too heavy–what the hell do you have in there?” fees at the Charles de Gaulle (Paris) Airport.

None of these trips happened at the same time, of course, so the sales force got to see me return again and again and again. That’s all right. They’ll probably see me tomorrow too.

Today I hiked down the road that my hotel is on until the road ended (2.5 mi) and back. That was fun, but I realized belatedly that my hiking shoes are all ripped up on the inside (how does that happen?) and now the backs of my heels are threatening to get blisters. No matter! Blisters or no blisters, a-hiking I will go. El Corte Ingles has a parafarmacia stocked with bandaids, so I’ll be just fine. (Toldja they’d see me tomorrow.)

I also wasted some time going to Atocha at about 7pm. This was stupid of me and I should’ve known better. I was thinking, “Oh, I’ll reserve my train tickets in advance like a good girl” when I should’ve been thinking, “Everyone’s out of work by now, bet the train station is *crazy town*.” You have no idea how packed that place gets. Especially since I’ve stood in that monstrous line before. Well, I got there and took a number from the paper number distributor dealy, and I got A410. I waited for 15 excruciating minutes while they helped A198, A199, A200 and A201. I was still 209 numbers away. At 3 minutes per person (which is *fast*), that would be something like 10 hours to wait. So I left. I’ll try tomorrow. I’m a little disappointed, because my initial plan was to get to El Museo Del Prado first thing in the a.m. and now it looks like I’ll be trucking over to Atocha instead. Oh well. As long as they can beat a 10 hour wait, who am I to complain. =)

Plaza Mayor is the same as I remembered–pretty, and somehow both busy and relaxed at the same time. However, the place where I got my SIM card last time was no longer there. (I wandered around every side street for an hour or two before I finally conceded its disappearance.) I was forced to go to the FNAC and switch my plan from Avena to Movistar. (pronounced “movie star”.) But at least now I can call the US even if I don’t have an Internet connection, so that’s a good thing. (And with an internet connection, Skype is a good thing!)

Now I’m sleepy, but I’m trying to stay up until at least 10 so I can keep a decent schedule, and maybe wake up without my alarm clock.

Tags: hiking, lost in translation, shopping, technology, trains

Córdoba, Spain & Puerto Lápice, Spain

This morning, we piled back into the bus and headed to Córdoba. The Mezquita de Córdoba (mosque) is wicked cool, and if you ever get a chance, you should definitely see it. (This, the Alhambra, and the Alcazaba in Málaga are my favorite old buildings thus far.) There’s a huge tower like the giralda in Seville, and a man would climb all the way up five times a day. On a horse. He sounded the trumpet, which was the cue to the people that it was time for minarcle (prayers).

All the doors to the Mezquita are open, but out of respect, people enter only through the main door. Inside is beautiful. The Jardin del Espiritu patio is there, too. The important thing in their religion is that beauty should always be on the inside. The outside can be walls.

Naturally, this beautiful mosque was converted into… you guessed it, a Catholic church. But in a way, I’m glad, since otherwise they would have destroyed it, and that would have been a terrible loss. Going into all these amazing places makes me think about all the places the Catholics did destroy – that’s a lot of history and beauty that we no longer have, but at least we still have some places like this where we can visit, learn about the past, and wonder at the beauty.

Next we went to Puerto Lápice, which has lots of Quixote paraphernalia, but no windmills. So we trekked up to the tops of the tallest hills to see the “giants” made immortal in Cervantes’ famous novel.

That night, both excursions made it back to the dorm, and the girls (and Bryan) all congregated in my room so we could exchange Barcelona/Andalucía stories. Oh, and we sampled some Absinthe from Barcelona. Apparently, the word on the street is that Vincent van Gogh, a little whack already and having downed a tad too much absinthe, cut off his ear in a fit of passion and sent it to his cousin to prove how much he loved her. I was of the opinion that this particular move might have been just a bit too much, but one of my classmates said that any man who would go to such lengths for her really deserved her.

Tags: castles & palaces, cathedrals, hiking

Portland, OR

Today, Todd made breakfast (pancakes, yum!) and then we set off for a hike in the Mount Hood National Forest. It was freaking cold up there, Mr Bigglesworth – I could see my breath. But it was a lot of fun and extremely scenic.

We came across this massive Y-shaped tree and I managed to crawl up it and wedge myself into the Y as if it were some kind of hammock – that was fun.

We walked around Mirror Lake and saw lots of snakes in the grass! I got one of the snakes on film, and Todd got some pretty amazing photos.

Once we got back to Portland, we ate dinner at Montage, a Louisiana-inspired restaurant with lots of artwork on the walls and a laid-back atmosphere. Our doggy-bags were actually our leftovers wrapped in aluminum foil and crafted into elaborate designs – Todd’s was a crab, mine a jester hat, and people seated near us got roses and swans.

Tags: food, hiking

Columbia River Gorge

Today we went out to the Columbia River Gorge and the Bonneville Dam, where we saw lots of salmon and shad, and a guestbook where somebody wrote: “I love lamp.” which cracked me up. (If you’ve seen Anchorman with Will Ferrell, you know why this cracked me up. If you did not see the movie, yes I know “lamp” was short for “lamprey”, although abbreviating a 7 letter word by 3 letters is pretty funny too)

Next we checked out a ton of waterfalls – Horsetail Falls, LaTourell Falls, Multnomah Falls, Wahkeena Falls, and more. I saw another slug, and would you believe it, a giant snail! It was lots of fun (slooow fun, but fun) to watch them cross the paths to get to the foliage on the other side.

Todd and I wrapped up the evening by checking out the view from Crown Point and having dinner at Greek Cuisina, where I had spanakopita, my very very favorite.

Tags: animals, food, hiking

Oswald State Park & Cannon Beach

Today we got up and went to breakfast at Elmer’s (you heard right, like the glue). Believe it or not, not bad, not bad.

We headed out to Oswald State Park for a bit of hiking on the Cape Falcon trail. I got to see a giant slug cross my path, blackberry flowers, and a bunch of psycho surfers out riding the waves in wet suits and sub zero temperatures. OK, maybe it wasn’t sub-zero – but it was hovering between 48-54 and that’s waaay too cold for this Tampa girl to be frolicking in the water!

Next we headed up to the Cannon Beach which had all these crazy sea stacks including the famous Haystack Rock as well as a bunch of tide pools. I saw lots of fish and tiny crab-like things, also sea anemone (sea urchins) and by-the-sea sailors, which looked like a cross between a jellyfish and a Dalí-esque bike reflector.

On our way back to Todd’s apartment, we come around the corner and guess what we see on the hillside? A bunch of elk, just grazing and hanging out.

Tags: animals, hiking

Lake Coter, Costa Rica

Today began with (you guessed it!) sunshine and twittering birds. Breakfast was a stale cinnamon roll, on which I gave up about halfway through. So, we drove into town to mail a postcard and stopped by the panadería. Bri got some kind of jelly-filled cookie (breakfast of champions) and I got a slice of what looked like marble pound cake. Both of us were surprised by what we considered to be a dearth of sugar, so we made it through about half of those before giving up and deciding to wait for lunchtime to roll around.

We piled back into the car and set out for the Lake Coter hanging bridges. On the way, we stopped at the Panoramic View for a look around. One thing I ought to mention about many roads (whether dirt, gravel, or the occasional paved) is that oftentimes, they are only one lane wide. My theory is that this way, they keep you on your toes.

So here we were, at the peak of this narrow, windy road, about to get back in the car and head down, when a car rolls up at the foot of the mountain and stops by the entrance. Bri and I held our breath, waiting to see if they were going to come up, since there would only be room enough for one car.

The car sat at the entrance for a good 5 or 10 minutes, so we eventually had to stop holding our breath.

Finally, it drove off, we heaved a sigh of relief, and I started up the engine in order to head down the mountain before any other vehicles decided to head up.

Another odd thing about the Panoramic View. There were landscapers at work when we pulled in, and there are several signs on both sides of the road giving directions to the place. However, there was no entrance fee or even so much as a tip jar at the top where the parking area and picnic tables were. So who pays for all that??

We got back on the road and headed to the Hanging Bridges, where I apparently also got the Costa Rican discount. (At the time, I naively thought that the prices had gone down since the time our welcome packet was printed.)

The hiking trail here was amazing, and absolutely gorgeous. The bridges were narrow, swaying things hundreds of feet across, from which we were rewarded with the most breathtaking views of the volcano, the mountains, the countryside, the rain forest, and a waterfall.

We saw lots of different birds, butterflies, insects, and lizards. We also grabbed lunch when we finished the hike, and man was it ever tasty. Bri got a chicken burrito that seemed to have been grilled (it reminded him of a pressed Cuban, although to me it looked like a grilled burrito). I got rice and vegetables, which sounded plain but was actually delicious. It came with a giant heap of stir-fried rice and veggies, surrounded by seasoned potato wedges. Mmm.

Thus fortified, we climbed back in the car and made our way back to the rental house in time for another beautiful sunset.

Once again, we tried (and failed) to figure out the outdoor hot tub. Upon failing in this endeavor, we turned our concentration to the indoor jacuzzi. It, too, was willing to fill with water and bubbles but unwilling to heat up.

I broke down and called Alex (we didn’t want to be problem guests) and he came over and tried to fix it. Deciding it was an electrical issue – and not wishing to electrify himself – he called up Michelle’s husband. (I guess it’s cool for Luis to get electrified.)

Bri and I were seated on stools around the island kitchen table when Luis arrived.

“May I borrow this bag?” he asked, pointing to the high-class Walmart bag I had artfully laid on the table.

“Sure,” Bri and I answer in unison, surprised and grateful that he would bother to come over late at night to lend a hand.

We watched in silence as Luis opened our freezer and dumped all of our ice into the Wal-Mart bag, tied a quick knot, and tossed it back into the freezer before shutting the door.

Now, I’m not the world’s foremost expert in hot-tub-fixing, but I totally did not get the connection. Something must have shown in our confused expressions, because he grinned and said, “There’s a fiesta tomorrow and we’re going to need ice.”

Hilarious!

Afterwards, he went outside where he and Alex tinkered around the breaker box awhile, then proclaimed the problem fixed. He came back inside, filled up the tub, twisted the timer to 30 minutes and said it should heat up in 15. He showed us the breakers, tipped his hat, and was on his way.

Great, we said, shook his hand, and waved good-bye to them both. 15 minutes later, lots of water, none of it hot. 30 minutes, same thing. An hour goes by, still no dice. An hour and a half, and we give up. We shut off the water and the timer, but weren’t sure what to do about the breakers. Was he showing us for educational purposes, or we supposed to do something with them? We decided to err on the side of caution and not overheat the pump, so Bri went outside and flipped the hot tub breakers off. Little did we know how much excitement that small act would cause for us the next morning.

Tags: animals, food, hiking, road trip

La Fortuna, Costa Rica

Our fifth day began with another delicious breakfast brought to us by Lidieth. We ate outside, as we have almost every morning and some afternoons. Once again, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and it was impossible not to grin at each other. How were we to know that today was the day we’d pick up a hitchhiker?

We headed out fairly early and got some gas. Brian’s first credit card didn’t go through and it took 15 minutes for them to bring back his second credit card. Once we juiced up, we drove past an ominous sign (”Peligro! Carretera en mal estado!”) and started down the road. Suddenly, Bri shouts “Stop here!” and I swing into Toad Hall.

He wanders around, looking at souvenirs. We pick up a couple things and head to the register. I tell Bri not to worry, I’ll get it. I hand the cashier (apparently a European transplant who I was later to learn was brand-new to the job) my card and she swipes it through the machine. The transaction goes through, but instead of a receipt, there’s a paper jam. And so the fun starts.

“I will have to run your card again.”
“You already ran my card.”
“But I need a receipt for you to sign!”
“Print out a new receipt.”
“The receipt comes when I swipe the card. Can I have your card back?”
“No way. You can’t run it twice.”
“But I need a receipt for you to sign!”
“Well, I’m not going to pay for this twice.”
“I understand, but I need to swipe again so I get a receipt.”
“I understand, but I can’t let you run my card twice.”
“But what can I do?”
“How about reprint the receipt?”
“I don’t know how! I just started and the boss didn’t show me.”
“I’m sure there’s a button for reprinting.”
“Why don’t you come look?”

Brian stares in disbelief as I go from customer to cashier, slipping behind the counter and studying the keypad. After maybe two seconds, I see a button called “reimprimir” (reprint) and press it. A copy of the receipt starts spitting out of the register. I sign, grab my bag, and leave.

As I unlock the car doors, a young blond woman with a bookbag walks up to Brian. He has no clue what she’s saying, so she walks up to me. Her boyfriend’s car died and she needs a ride to La Fortuna. We happen to be going to La Fortuna, but I know how paranoid Brian is and how he’ll undoubtedly think she’s an axe murderer. Believe it or not, we managed to talk him into letting her ride with us. I found out later that he was in fact scared, and did in fact think that her bookbag either contained drugs or weaponry.

She was a native of Argentina, who lived here for five years, went back home for one, and just came back to Costa Rica for good. It was great to have her in the car because I could ask her a zillion questions and she was more than happy to answer. She explained about some of the area attractions and which spots were the best for viewing the Arenal volcano. We were on our way to the Fortuna River waterfall in the Ecological Preserve, and had no idea how to get there. Since she was going to La Fortuna anyway, she was glad to show us.

We dropped her off half a mile from our final desination and parked at the reserve. I bought tickets, grabbed my camera, and headed down the trail. What a trail! If we thought the trail was iffy and steep at the canopy tour, boy were we naive. This trail was crazy, but when we reached the bottom of the mountain, boy was it worth every step.

The water cascaded down from so high above that it took four seperate photos to capture the whole thing. We stripped off our shirts and shorts, to our swimsuits underneath, and tentatively waded into the water. Yikes! Cold! But gorgeous, absolutely beautiful.

After playing in the water and taking innumerable photos, we huffed and puffed our way back up the mountainside and drove to the Los Lagos resort, who only charged us $6 to get in. (I was later to find out that the repeated low entrance fees were actually due to me getting repeatedly mistaken for a local, as locals get into the attractions much cheaper than tourists. TGIM)

Los Lagos is pretty, with landscaped gardens, crocodiles, hot springs, a restaurant, and more. First we hiked around the trail and checked out all the crocodiles. There were lots of lizards and butterflies along our path.

Next, we got back in our bathing suits and inched into the pool. Yow! Hot! And just what I needed. The pool was fed by water from the hot springs, which flowed from the volcano. The water felt absolutely wonderful on my tired muscles, and the mai tai I bought at the wet bar didn’t hurt either.

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder sounded, and Brian sprang out of the pool. I asked the bartender if it were dangerous to be in the water if it rained. He answered something like this:

“Not in regular rain, not when it sprinkles. But it can be dangerous when the sky is full of lightning. As bartender, it is part of my job to let people know when it becomes potentially dangerous so that everyone can get out of the pool safely. Four years ago, that didn’t exactly happen as planned. There was an American sitting about where you are, a big fat one that took up two stools and was half laying on the bar. I told him, ‘Please get out of the water, sir. There’s lots of lightning and it isn’t safe to be in the pool.’ He got angry with me and began shouting. ‘Oh yeah? I’m from the United States!’ he yelled. ‘We have lightning there, too, and I’ve never once been hit!’ Well, no sooner did he speak these words when thunder rolled across the sky and a jagged bolt of lightning struck the center of the pool. Because he was so wet, the skin that laid on the bar boiled and instantly turned as red as those flowers in the vase.”

At this point in the story, the bartender shook his head sadly, as if to say, “Americans.” Not wanting to be lumped in the same category as the belligerant, burned fat man, I paid my tab and quickly exited the pool.

By this time, Bri and I were starving and we stopped for dinner at the restaurant by the pool. The waiter was extremely friendly, and after he brought our bill, did a magic trick for me. I’m not sure why that came to pass, but as you may know, I absolutely love magic tricks, so I squealed like a five-year-old and made him do it again so I could squint really close and figure out how he did it.

I could not. The mystery remains his.

Tags: hiking, road trip

Arenal, Costa Rica

This morning, we were greeted with (you guessed it!) absolutely gorgeous weather. We fixed ourselves some toast (Lidieth comes every other day) and headed out to the car. We decided that today would be a great day to check out the famous (or infamous) canopy tour! (Boy am I going parentheses-crazy.)

For the uninitiated, a canopy tour is actually a series of zip lines through the rain forest. If this is still Greek to you, imagine this. After a half hour hike straight up, we were strapped into a belt-like harness and attached by rope to a cable stretching hundreds of feet across and hundreds of feet high, from tree top to treetop. Once attached, the guide gives a little push, and I go flying across the rainforest canopy (hence the name), zipping on down the line (hence *that* name) from one rickety platform to another.

This was absolutely incredible. You have got to try it.

The aerial view of the rainforest was breathtaking. Trees towered above me, and yet sometimes I could not even see the ground below me. All manner of creatures rustled in the leaves, and the wind whipping through my hair as I sailed across a vast sea of lush plantlife was absolutely exhilirating.

I’ve got *tons* of pictures that I cannot wait to show you. Me, in a fetching hardhat. An enormous walking stick, climbing up the porch at the lodge. And of course, dozens of shots of trees, plants, and countryside.

When we came back to Nuevo Arenal (technically Mata de Cañas) we stopped by the German Bakery. Oh yes, there are German bakeries even in Costa Rica. This particular one is called Tom’s Pan. Pan is the Spanish word for bread, but then again, pan is also an English word (which a German would be more likely to speak) so it remains a mystery exactly what is meant by the name.

I will say that the chocolate cupcakes were absolutely delicious.

We came back home in time to watch a gorgeous sunset and curl up with a book. (You’ll not be surprised to learn I’ve managed to read a novel almost every evening. Bliss!)

Tags: animals, food, hiking