What Happens in La Fortuna, Stays in La Fortuna

Day 10 6-7-12 Friday First and foremost, Jason's heel is totally fine. A very minimal bruise if anything. Secondly, a bunch of people cleared out of our room today. I'm especially glad the guy on the bunk below me checked out. He was an odd character. For example, we watched him spend about 10 minutes trying to capture the perfect photo of his Imperial beer can on his iPhone last night. I fully place all blame on him for clogging up out toilet and then doing nothing to resolve the situation. I don't really care if you plug up the toilet but at least have the decency to get the situation taken care of. You know? Seems like common sense to me. Next, I may be allergic to Costa Rica. The arm rash got exceptionally bad today. The only difference I can think of is that I put on Cutter Bug Repellent before we left for our tour. My arms started rashing up hardcore by the time we were on our horses (more on that later). Jason thinks he may have used the Cutter on the day he was starting to get rashy on his arms. This is bad news seeing as how we are heading into Malaria territory tomorrow. Today, we went on the most bootleg tour yet. As we continually laugh about the jeep-boat-jeep, Jason likened this tour to horse-hike-wade. The idea when we booked the tour, was to horseback ride to the La Fortuna waterfall. It turns out that is basically impossible. The horse can get you so far, but after that you have to hike down to the pools where the waterfall flows. That's when you get to wade around in ice cold water. Though the water was very cold, it felt pretty good on our shins and feet by the time we got there. The real trip was the two people on our tour. We had the infinite pleasure of being with a 55 year old man and his 18 year old daughter. From the minute we got into the shuttle, I could tell this guy was a character. When we got in the shuttle, neither he, nor his daughter said a word to us. This is fairly unusual. Most people seem eager to meet others in their tour group, via the shuttle. We silently rode to the stables, whereupon we exited the shuttle, got our wristbands and walked up a slight hill to the stables. At this point, we can smell the strong smell of horse poop and hear someone yelling at the horses. I'm thinking this is not good. Just then El Groucho (the 55 year old man), comes up behind us and says, "Ugh, I've probably ridden more horses than these guys have." Great. Arrogant man. There's nothing I like more (insert heavy dose of sarcasm here). So, the tour guide introduces himself, though I have no recollection of his name now. (I do recall it was his 30th birthday however.) And, he suits us up with our horses. Mr. Know-It-All Groucho gets on his horse and jerks back on the reins which startles the horse and it starts rearing backwards. THe guide starts shouting, "No no no, don't do that!" To which, El Groucho responds, "Well, this horse isn't ready! If it can't handle me pulling the reins, it's not ready." Basically, he tries to argue with the caballero leading us. The guide calmly explainst it's a good horse, you just have to follow the correct commands. Groucho didn't like this answer and requested another horse. He didnt get his wish. Haha! Costa Rican Guide 1, Groucho 0. On that note, we headed up the hill toward the waterfall. Horseback riding is a romantic notion, isn't it? To me, it always looks so fun to see people riding off into the sunset, or having a nice walk through the ocean surf on their horse. But, there we were, in the mountains, in God awful ugly helmets on horses that looked beat down. I'm fairly sure my horse was going to die on several occasions. While everyone else's horses are taking the hill climbs in stride, my horse is snorting and shaking spit all over the place. The horses didn't seem to like clamboring over the rocks and kept searching out the side of the road, where it was less rocky and more muddy. We silently rode our horses to the drop off point, then walk up the hill to the viewpoint. From there, we hiked down approximately 300 uneven steps and cross a suspension bridge that by no means would pass any sort of Engineer inspection. The bridge consisted of splitting wooden planks and was held up by rusting cables. Don't worry though because the sides were encased in torn green meshing. When we finally got to the pools, we were quite taken with the clear water and the power of the waterfall. It truly is an incredible place! You can't really swim near the waterfall because it's so powerful, the force will push you back into the rocks. Muy peligroso. Though some people do try. The water in the swimming area was so clear you could see schools of fish. We talked to our guide about what kind of fish they were. Though, I can't remember now what kinds he said. While our guide gave us directions for how to get closer to the waterfall, Groucho says, "(Grunt) Well I'm not into swimming, we're going to hike up to the viewpoint. His poor daughter. So, off they went on their hike, Jason and I kind of shaking our heads as we got water ready. The guide must have seen us chuckling and asked if we were with them, to which we adamantly replied that we were not. The guide responded, "That is good because...that guy...well...he is a little bit feisty!" I do believe that is a very nice way of putting it. After we spent an adequate amount of time swimming/wading around, we headed back down to where our horses were stationed. Oh yes, on our way back up Groucho attempted a conversation with me, which turned into, surprise, surprise, talking about himself. He also got in a couple of jabs at his daughter about her being the most out of shape 18 year old he had ever seen, and had they selected his activity of choice (riding atv's) they wouldn't even have to be walking up all these stairs back to the top of the hill. I was about to go insano banano on his ass so I had to pick up the pace to get out of earshot of him. Later, in the mariposario and la ranaria (butterfly and frog gardens) he took photos with his incredibly nice camera, and then, lucky us, came to show us his beautiful photography. It seemed to me he didn't understand the connection between great photos and using a great camera. I refuse to believe he actually has any photographic skill. Fishing for compliments just never sits real well with me. On the ride home I decided to just put my shirt on over my swimming suit top, not realizing how much time we would be spending trotting downhill. I vastly underestimated how much this would hurt my body, without proper undergarments, if you know what I'm saying. I'm not sure who endured more pain, me, or my dying horse? I was happy for that joy ride to be over and to head back to the hostel for a relaxing afternoon. After napping by the pool, after an absolute downpour, I awoke and read awhile. I tried to be social and strike up conversation with these 2 guys staying in our room. James and Casey. They were from San Antonio, TX, apparently stationed there for the military. We idly chit-chatted until any foreign girls entered the vicinity and then their attention couldn't be held by anything I could say or do. It was becoming clear what they wanted to get out of their trip to Costa Rica. The best part of this conversation, actually had nothing to do with them at all. But, as I was standing there talking to them, poolside, I caught a glimpse of three guys walking up the road toward our hostel. I pointed, and shouted, "Mina, Mina and Manu!" Our friends from Monteverde! Jason was like, no way! And ran to the sidewalk to verify what I'd seen. He called out to them, and chatted with them, until I could break away from James and Casey. I ditched those two military duds to go see my British friends. I was so happy! We ended up having a delicious dinner with them and then going to El Establo for drinks. El Establo is a typical Tico bar and we are clearly gringos. But, the service was good and the people were friendly for the most part. We had decided to leave around 10:30 because I knew the hot water would get turned off at 11 and I desperately needed to shower before bed! As we were getting ready to go, a couple other guys from our jeep-boat-jeep tour walked in. We met them, Mark and Lawrence, and chatted them up awhile before heading back. They are from Southern California where Mark works for UCLA and Lawrence works at Matel. Allegedly. The thing about these types of trips are you can make up any kind of cool story you want, and no one would ever know... Little did we know that there would be a huge party going down at our hostel when we got back. We had French-Candadian girls making out in the corner, the Holland-aise girls in animal print parachute pants, and one, possibly two gay brothers from Richmond, Virginia. Of course, I thought the gay man (men?) were fabulous. Drew and Sean. They were completely drunk and completely entertaining. At one point, I learned of Sean's love for "vintage smut" literature, and how he and his heterosexual, female friend dream of starting a drag show where he plays Dolly Parton, and she plays Kenny Rogers. They would have an epic show, he assured me, with a miniature horse and everything. Then, he began serenading me with Dolly Parton tunes. This was my night. What more could anyone want from a trip to La Fortuna? And Iiiiiiiiiieeeeiiiiiiieeeeiiiiii will always love youuuuuuuuuuuu, Judy