Writings By Date| Not Wet Enough: Sightseeing in Monteverde | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
We finally made it out of the cloud forest alive, to discover that the people at the entrance station had already fled, probably suspecting what we were going to do to them if we ever got out. With dusk approaching, we decided to end our day by visiting the "frog farm" at twilight. For another $8, we were led on a 45-minute guided tour of...frogs. A woman with broken English led us around about 15 or so giant glass tanks, where at each one, she'd shine her flashlight, and we'd see one or two frogs, usually about half an inch in length. We'd learn its name, and some fascinating fact about it, then six-year old know-it-all Stefanie would insist she knew that, while her four-year old sister struggled to see what everyone was looking at. Then we'd move on to the next tank, and the cycle would repeat. These were nice-looking frogs, I'll tell you, but it wasn't worth $8. It seems like nothing around here is worth what we're charged as tourists (locals are charged about one-third our amount), but I suppose something has to pay for everybody's English lessons.
We ended the night at an Italian restaurant "Pizzaria de Johnny". Despite the silly name, it was, again, a very quaint wooden building, with a wood-fired oven and excellent pizzas. In the five days we've been in Costa Rica, we've now had pizza three times. Sadly, Costa Rican food is generally very bland and flavorless: the only local fare they can truly call their own is the "casada", or "typical fare", which consists of beans, rice, fried plantains, french fries, a fried egg (seriously), a few leaves of lettuce, and your choice of fish, chicken, or beef. The real specialties in Costa Rica are Italian food and hamburgers, and aside from a lunchtime casada, that's about all anyone ever goes out to eat. It almost reminds me of the US, with our propensity for restaurants serving food from other cultures. The big difference, of course, is that in America, those restaurants are usually run by immigrants or direct descendants of immigrants from those countries. Sadly, I don't think any Costa Rican has much experience with marinara sauces. You can tell.
Back at the hotel, Erin and I took a bath in our luxurious tub, then hit the sheets. We decided to stay in Monteverde an extra day, so we can do some horseback riding, get some Internet updates done, and so I can get a massage in our room. My god, after driving on all these blasted roads, I can hardly wait.
-- Keith
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