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At long last, and only two inches shorter from spine damage, we made it to Hotel El Establo (the stable). Our guidebook described it as a rustic place with a lot of charm, converted from an old horse farm, reasonably priced, and in a good location.
Apparently, neither the folks at Lonely Planet nor at Frommers got the latest bulletin on this place.
They had just undergone an extensive renovation. No, not a renovation — a total change of personality. The charming converted rooms were still there, but our "suite" for the three of us lay around the corner and up the hill. This wasn't a hotel: it was a ski lodge about 5000 miles out of place. The building was all wood, with common areas and huge panoramic windows overlooking the Gulf of Nicoya, on the Pacific coast. If you were to add a few fireplaces, this place would look as though it were air-lifted straight out of Aspen, Colorado. Our room had two levels, with a king-size bed on the mezzanine, and a queen bed and private balcony down below — again, both floors overlooking the ocean and, at that very moment, a brilliant sunset. The bathroom alone was bigger than most hotel rooms we've stayed in; it even had an echo.
The price, unsurprisingly, was almost double what the guidebooks said, but needless to say, we fell in love with it. The fact that the beds had orthopedic mattresses didn't exactly help to turn us away, either. And, of course, they spoke English here, too.
