Coffee

When I was a little kid, one of my favorite things was seeing my grandpa's pickup coming down our drive way.  My grandpa is a great story teller.  Whenever we saw him coming as kids, we knew what to do: get him his coffee.  Was it morning, evening, half past midnight?  Didn't matter--Norwegians drink coffee any time of day.  That being said, there is only one thing that could cause this face:

 A coffee tour!  That's right friends, as soon as we woke up our first morning in Monte Verde, Sam knew he had to take me to the coffee tour as quickly as possible.  Off to Don Juan's!

This is a picture of the coffee plantation:

And here are some close ups of those beans that make me so happy.  Sam is taking one home to see if we can have a decorative coffee plant.  Our guide said we may be able to pull it off.

You only want to make coffee from the dark red beans

Hello, gorgeous!

We had such a great guide on this trip.  She was almost as passionate about coffee as me.  She said that we needed to leave the tour as teachers about coffee.  Little did she know, I've been spreading the word for as long as I can remember.  As if all that coffee wasn't great enough, we also got some more knowledge about chocolate.  Could it get any better?  Unlike on our other chocolate tour, this time we got to see cacao pods and try the seeds.  They were really sweet.

In Costa Rica, coffee growing has been a part of their culture for almost two hundred years.  This is what a traditional Costa Rica coffee cart looks like:

And as an extra bonus, here is more of my coffee heaven:

This is Sam with a gigantic coffee grinder and the room of coffee.  I think we need a room of coffee in our house.
 
The tour ended with an all you could drink coffee tasting. While we were discussing which roast was our favorite, we got to meet Don Juan himself.  He looked great for his age.  My grandpa would say it was all the coffee.

Monte Verde

After our vacation from our vacation in Liberia, we were ready to hit the trail again.  This time, though, we were traveling in style:

Yes, that is our OWN economy car rental!  Such luxury!  No more haggling taxi rates or getting squished on the bus.  As it turns out, most people rent bigger cars to go where we were going next.  How were we to know that we were going up and down mountains on dirt roads with large rocks for several hours? At times it was harrowing, but Sam drove it well.

Sam is still smiling here because he is on a paved road and knows not what lies ahead

The drive to Monte Verde was spectacular.  I pointed this out to Sam many times, but he was strangely unmoved by the beauty as he worked to get us up a mountain without falling off the road.

Once we got to Monte Verde, I immediately took him to this restaurant in a tree house to help him past his post drive crankiness (we all know I've never gotten cranky or openly wept after driving up an icy mountain to go skiing).

Sam is healed by coffee and sitting in a tree

This restaurant was voted one of the most bizarre in the world, so we can cross that off our list.

After coffee we headed to our hostel, which happened to have an incredible view of Monte Verde and the cloud forest. 

All in all, it was a good day.

The Finca Stinkers

As I mentioned, water was touch and go on the old farm.  Also touch and go, therefore, was our ability to shower.  It is not easy to even saturate your hair when only one hole out of the entire shower head is dribbling out any water.  Thus, we started off our day at a little bit of a hygiene disadvantage.  Our last breakfast on the farm there was a little glint in both our eyes as we thought about getting back to civilization.   

Sam, heartbroken to leave the finca

We took pictures of the flowers, and we were ready to go.

We didn’t start out immaculately clean, and our day of travel to Costa Rica certainly didn’t help matters.  We took the long dusty road back into the port, bumping a long like bronc riders on the boulder strewn road.  The ferry ride included a viewing of the second half of Narnia which was nice, but I got a little lake sick and had to go back to my rehab techniques for staying calm.  Next was a dusty taxi to the border.  The border was not my fave.  It was incredibly confusing.  After a lot of walking up and down roads trying to figure out what we were supposed to do and having people in multiple offices stamping papers, then more walking to figure out what to do, we finally got in a long line to get on a bus.  Never have I been more mad at cutters.  I don’t speak Spanish, but when the men in front of me started yelling at the those cheater pants, I added my two cents.  Some things are universal.  Apparently everything you learned in kindergarten about line maintenance just goes out the window at the border.  Anyway, finally we got on a hot dusty bus and several years later we arrived in Liberia, Costa Rica.  

Friends, I know some of you are hard core travelers and are not going to like what I say next.  I’ve never pretended to be as cool as you (okay, maybe I have).  I like local culture as much as the next person, but when you are this tired and stinky and hot, nothing looks as good to you as something familiar.   

So we embraced the McDonalds by the bus stop and its air conditioning with open arms.  I was so happy to be there drinking my soda, eating my fries, I can’t tell you.  We saw a hotel one building down.  It had air conditioning, a pool, wifi, and was overpriced.  We did not care.   We took happy showers and sat and watched t.v.  Now, we are ready to take on the world.

Ride Through the Jungle

Day three at the finca was horse riding day, and I had some butterflies in my stomach when I woke up.  We were going for a sunset ride to a lookout point where we could see the lake and both volcanoes.  Our host said it was the easiest and shortest ride and we thought that was the best idea for us.  

Mornings on the finca are magic because a wonderful breeze cools you and there is plenty of shade to be found under the porch where you can swing on a hammock.   

We sat on the porch for hours watching incredible birds, the clouds over the volcano, and the cows in the fields.  We read to each other (our book is getting pretty good!) By day three, we had learned our way around the village a little better and found Margarita’s house where the best lunch (and the cheapest!) on the island is found.  We joined all the truck drivers and working men who know the insider to secret to Margarita’s for an amazing lunch.  This is a picture of my beautiful fusion pasta.  It had a great Nicaraguan kick to it:

At last the hour came.  I was pretty sure I would die from falling off my horse on our adventure.  I said my goodbyes to Sam and told him I enjoyed our marriage, but as it turns out I’ve lived to type about it.  At first, I was terrified, but I know that horses can sense fear so I calmed myself down as much as I could using techniques I learned working in rehab.   

A self portrait of my knee and my horse, Tequila

The road was no better than the one to the finca and it was more mountainous than any riding I’d ever done.  Here is a sound I don’t like: your horse’s hooves slipping on rocks.  But if my dad told me one thing in my childhood it was this: nobody likes a whiner.   And the truth is I loved the horse ride.  You may know that my sister is a wonderful rider, but you may have forgotten that when she first started riding I took lessons with her for a summer until I fell off five times in a row learning to canter and decided I was done.  As we started going up and down those hills, I suddenly remembered all kinds of things that our instructor drilled into my little brain: heels down, sit up straight, grip with your legs.  While I didn’t light up the sky with my riding abilities, it turns out all those instructions really work and it helped me to feel more comfortable.  I even liked going a little bit fast!  Once I got over worrying about whether or not my horse was going to fall down, I started looking at the jungle.   

Sadly, this is one of the better photographs of my ride

We saw monkeys and coffee farms, we whacked away at bushes just like in the movies and basically owned it.  The view from the hill of the lake and volcanoes at sunset was gorgeous and my pictures of it do not do it justice.  

Really any pictures at all of this ride are pitiful because to stay on the horse I had to just pull out the camera and take pictures without any aim or intention whatsoever.  I just knew I had to document something or it didn’t happen.  

Sam riding Marijuana

Sam did this ride middle eastern style and I think his fashion alone told his horse who was boss.  He stayed on like a champion, but love is perhaps too strong a word for his feelings about the ride.  We were three for three on the fantastic dinner front, and we slept soundly.

I lived

The Beach

We fared better our second day on the Island.  The power returned and we were able to turn on our fan, and we had water intermittently throughout the day.  Over a breakfast of exotic fruits and passion fruit juice, the Italian ladies, who were anxious to help us, recommended we go kayaking by the lake.  They were heading toward town anyway, so they drove us to a little tiny restaurant and boat rental place we never would have found on our own and we were set.   As you may be gathering by now, I’m cautious by nature, so when I kayak I hug the shore to the extent that little children wading in the water often reach out and touch my boat as I go by.  The beauty of the morning overtook me that day, and throwing caution to the wind, I went to where the water was easily six feet deep and got an incredible view of the mountains and palm trees in the distance.  

 Sam and I took turns paddling further and further out and it was a wonderful morning. 

Not having a jam packed schedule, and not knowing where else to go, we stayed at the little restaurant on the beach all day.   

Sam sitting on the beach

We immersed ourselves in the local culture.  I had the most unique ham sandwich I’ve ever had.  You could easily try this recipe at home.  It’s three hot dog buns, chili sauce, one piece of processed ham, and several chunks of cheese.  You can just follow the picture:

We drank cold cokes and cold water (yay!) and watched the locals who came to the lake to swim, do laundry, wash their cars and generally hang out.   There were also a lot of equine visitors to the lake. 

According to a kid we met who spoke English, it is “vacation time” for the horses who run wild for several months when they are not needed for farm production.  We also saw a lot of pigs, cows and chickens which was pretty fun.  

We went back to the ranch for siesta and to read until dinner, which was a repeat of the night before: same buzzed pirate, same pirate stories, same amazing food. This made me realize on a deeper level something I have always known; the hospitality and love put into incredible food can cover over the awkwardness of a drunk pirate any day.

Island Life

Ahora!  The cute days of stopping in at the local little restaurants for coffee and holding hands on the cobblestone streets of Granada has passed and now we undertake a far more serious adventure:  Isla de Ometepe.  Described as “a fantasy island” in our guidebook, this island with two volcanoes is known its beauty, wildlife and having the only freshwater shark on the planet.   All well and good.  When I booked our trip I didn’t have a lot of time (you know Sam and I can’t be bothered with planning vacations in advance!), so I just picked the most popular thing listed to do on trip advisor and found rooms.  The most popular thing to do in Ometepe at the moment is to stay on a horse farm, so did it matter to me that neither of us ride worth anything?  No friends, it did not.  

We left Granada by taxi and had a beautiful ride with our driver pointing out the different crops that were growing: sugar cane, bananas, etc.  

I call this "Banana Trees from a Car Window"

Then we took a ferry to the island.   

A view of one of the volcanoes from the ferry

We got listen to the entire music video collection spanning several decades of one popular singer all the way out, and we got some yummy sport cola.  We were happy campers.

 

 The taxi from where the ferry landed to our horse ranch took another hour and a half.  This is where I started to get a little concerned.  At first it was fine.  We got to share the road with a herd of cows (which wasn’t a new thrill for me, since driving out near Fairfield in Idaho I often run into a herd of cows) and that made me feel at home.   

Then we took a turn and entered, truly, the worst rode I have ever been on, including some roads that cross rivers in the Sawtooths.  I said to myself, hmmm, this must be kind of remote…

An even stretch of road where I am able to take a picture

The road just kept going and going, and the further we went, the less we saw of anything like a town.  Then we got to our farm (which we will from now on refer to as the finca, since I’m working on my Spanish skills, which are quite comparable to my horse riding skills).  

A surprise awaited me at the finca, but to really understand, I must back up a little in my story.  When I booked reservations, I looked first at the pictures other travelers had taken and put up on trip advisor.  Amongst them was a picture of a friendly looking Nicaraguan man riding a horse, which I assumed was the owner of the operation.  Another was a picture of a pirate/carnival worker who I assumed was a slightly terrifying guest.  I bet you (being a reader of mysteries like myself) have already jumped ahead of me and figured this out.  That’s right, the pirate/carnival worker wasn’t actually just passing through…he was in charge.  

Our pirate here portrayed by Tom Hanks in Castaway

This just goes to show you how easy it is to believe what you want to believe.  When the cold hard truth faced me, I (being a world traveler) thought,  I want my mommy and I want to go home. Then he told us there was no power.  In fairness to him and the two ladies who worked with him, they offered to give us a discount on our room or to find another place for us to stay considering the inconvenience.  And everything around us was beautiful-the finca, our rooms, the views of both volcanoes.  So we decided to stay.  Still, a cloud of uneasiness fell over me as all the Lost episodes I ever watched began to churn around unhelpfully in the back of my brain.   

Later in the day the finca also lost water, but we were committed at that point, so we put a brave face on it and marched on.  

Sam gazes at the volcano and wonders about the days that lie ahead...

 Our first adventure was to go down the hill and find something for lunch.  Like little Dickens characters we went door to door asking for food at the homes of several unsuspecting Nicaraguans until we found a place that was actually a restaurant (again, walk a mile in our flip flops before you judge our restaurant spotting skills—it is harder than you think!).   We walked down to the lake and sat by the water before heading back to our room.  That first day was a little bit hard.  We were still in shock and to get through we read to each other by Kindle light (I know, that was terrible) until dinner time.  Dinner was ridiculously good.  While our pirate seemed to have had a bottle of rum before we got there, the food was absolutely wonderful and chatting with the Italian woman who made it (and who was the warmest of our hosts) made me sleep a little more easy under my mosquito net.

Good Friday II

I left you right at nap time on Good Friday.  After a little four hour snooze (don’t judge, we’re on vacation!) Sam said that we had to go outside and move around.  I wasn’t so sure.  The heat turned me into a jello version of myself and I protested.  For my own good, Sam rolled  me out the door anyway. The air smelled like incense and outside the church a huge crowd was gathered for a Good Friday service.  We watched that for a while and took pictures of the people at the front who were taking pictures of whatever was really happening.

We weren’t sure what to do next, so we followed the crowd.  All the Central American tourists were lined up to ride a tractor decorated with Christmas lights that was blasted out songs people seemed to know all the words to.  We got ourselves a Fanta Roja (red is Sam’s new favorite flavor) and got in line.  Let me tell you, getting on this tractor was no small feat. 

The crowd surged forward as soon as the tractor came to a stop and people were pushing to get on and pushing to get off.  Sam and I had to step on some little kids to get a seat in the front row (just kidding, we rarely step on kids!).    

This is me on the train.  I tried to make friends with the little girl sitting next to me, but she was having none of it.  She knew I was far too tall to be safe.  She kept a suspicious eye on me the whole trip.

As it turned out, all the trouble we had starting out Good Friday seemed to have reversed itself and every adventure we undertook went well in the evening.  For instance, normally sitting on top of a gigantic speaker would be my worst nightmare (from the woman who always has ear plugs on hand in case decibels get to dangerous levels).  But as luck would have it, the speakers weren’t working and instead Sam and I got an acrobatic show as two young men switched out speakers, rewired the thing, and tried all number of dangerous repairs, all while the tractor was in motion.  It was definitely worth the fifty cent admission.

Our next stop was at a kiosk in the square which Sam had been wanting to try since we got to Granada.  

Sam slightly wistful that his beans and rice were over so soon

It was wonderful, and we were serenaded (for a small fee) by these people who sang the Nicaraguan national anthem to us:

Just as we were heading home, the magic really happened.  At last the Good Friday parade was heading right for us, and it was worth the wait.

I also have extensive video footage upon request