La FortunaTuesday March 23
From the crest of the mountain pass, we headed downhill towards the town of
La Fortuna, which sits in the shadow of the Volcan Arenal - one of the most active
volcanos in the world (according to the Lonely Planet anyway).
by that time I had become more accustomed to being on horseback, which was lucky
because we did a little trotting in the flatter sections. The horses were
sweaty and seemed eager to get to their stable.
We parted ways with our guide at a little waystation next to the giant Lake Arenal. He managed to convey to us that we would be met by a boat taking us the final leg of the trip. We bought a bottle of juice with an unfamilar fruit on it and settled down to wait next to the pet parrot. "Hola? Hola?" we said coaxingly, but it just marched up and down its stick saying nothing. Maybe it couldn't understand our pronunciation. 
After about half an hour of waiting - during which Talina sat on some
angry ants - a little speedboat pulled up to the dock.
As we sped bumpily across Lake Arenal, we had a perfect view of the volcano. But
it was covered by a boiling mass of clouds and we couldn't tell if the clouds were
from the sky or emanating from the volcano.
When we arrived in Fortuna, we chose the first hotel we saw, even though we probably could have gotten a better deal had we looked further. We were so tired and sore from the horseback ride that it didn't seem worth it. The outside of our hotel was shocking pink and the two sagging beds were covered in hideous floral blankets that smelled faintly of old perfume. Talina and I ate the rest of our crumbling bread with avocado spread on it, lay out our own blankets on the dirty hotel sheets (this is why I list a blanket in my What To Bring When You Travel list) and napped until it was almost sundown. Even the rats scurrying in the walls couldn't keep us awake. 
When we woke up, we decided we wanted a night of pampering: massages followed by a
long soak in the hot springs that trickle down from the volcano.
In the Lonely Planet, we had read that there was a resort outside town - the Tabacon
hot springs - which charged $20 for admittance. Slightly steep (at least compared
to our new, cheaper standard of living) but so worth it.
We walked down the block to a house with a sign outside advertising massages. While we waited for the woman to finish with her customer, we walked down to the village square and found the turismo booth. We were planning to leave La Fortuna the following morning, so we asked the man working the booth to help us with bus directions and times. The man was older and white, wearing khaki shorts and a brimmed hat, so Talina and I privately dubbed him Indiana-Jones-man. He helped us plan a complete schedule back to San Jose. We returned to the masseuse's house, and while Talina got a full-body massage, I sat on her front porch and chatted with the previous customer, a guy who emerged from his session all blissed out. "We're planning to go to the Tabancon hot springs later," I said at one point. 
"There's a better option," he said. "My family and I come to Costa Rica every year, and we've
learned some tricks. Take the free shuttle bus to the Tabancon resort.
It's owned by the resort, comes right up the street and leaves every hour. Then, when it drops
you off, walk across the street to the hot spring that the locals use."
After my massage, we put swimsuits under our clothes and walked down to where the free shuttle came - it worked out exactly as the man had said. We got a free ride to the entrance of the Tabancon hot springs, then we walked across the road down a well-lit path to the local hot springs, $10 cheaper and seemingly deserted. Talina and I paid our fee and walked inside. Narrow paths forked off the central walkway to dive down spotlit stone stairs to the "springs" - which was really a mountain stream tumbling down the mountain, heated by the constant volcanic activity. Pools of hot water were separated by short 
waterfalls, hidden from the main path by giant ferns.
Steam rose up into the jungle foliage, which was subtly landscaped
so that it looked almost natural. We went down the stone stairs to the stream and
plunged in. We started in the top pool - which was directly beneath a churning
waterfall, and had a distinct current - and moved our way down.
The water in the first pool was fast-moving enough to massage our tired muscles and as hot as bath water. Eventually, we moved down to the deeper, wider pools, where there wasn't as much of a current, and floated in complete relaxation. At one point, Talina and I paddled out to lay on a large, flat rock that was partly submerged. But I'm a weak (VERY weak) swimmer and I got pulled off-course by the slight current and then got swept down a waterfall. Luckily it was a short waterfall. NEXT: The next day, we return to San Jose
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