Monteverde Rain ForestSunday, March 21 to Tuesday, March 23From Cahuita, we caught the 5-hour bus back to San Jose - the capital city and nexus point for all buses - and immediately got onto another bus to Santa Elena, the town closest to the Monteverde Cloud Rainforest Reserve.
After an hour on a mercifully jolt-free highway, we turned off onto a gravel road that went up and wound around the mountains. Despite the bumpy, uneven surface and hairpin turns, the busdriver was careening around the corners, honking the horn merrily. We distinctly went over the edge once or twice. Talina, who was by the window, was green. "I can't watch anymore," she said. "The wheels were actually hanging over the edge of the cliff." Our bus pulled into Santa Elena late that night. The air was misty and noticiably cooler than San Jose, in fact it felt a lot like Seattle. The first thing we saw as we climbed wearily off the bus was Hans Ricter, aka Creepy Hans. A little backstory: I met Hans through my friend Aaron, and after sharing approximately three conversations, Hans decided he was in love with me. After hearing I was spending my Spring Break in Costa Rica, Hans bought himself a plane ticket to San Jose. I found out shortly thereafter that Hans wanted to be more than friends. I was not interested. Any vague plans of maybe hanging out together in CR evaporated, and in fact I was not thrilled to see him, there in Santa Elena. I grabbed Talina and tried to duck into a nearby coffeeshop, eyes averted, hoping he wouldn't see me. Unfortunatly he saw us (trying to avoid him with ZERO subtlety) and awkward conversation ensued. 
(An update: Hans somehow FOUND this website, read the above paragraph, and wrote me
a furious, bitter email in which he claimed I misrepresented him. He also
said that he no longer thinks about me at all....which would be a relief. But
if that's the case,
then why did he go to all the
trouble to find this site and read through every page?)
We wandered through the gravel streets, which were slick with moisture. There was a distinct frontier feeling to Santa Elena, maybe due to the motorbikes roaring past. Most of the town lay on a single road, including two supermarcados, one bank with a front guard, and many bars and restaurants. We ate dinner at one, an overwhelmingly crowded pizza restaurant. After waiting almost an hour for an empty table, we ordered the "Vegetariana" which came with only carrots, broccoli, and canned mushrooms on it. (Canned mushrooms and broccoli also featured predominantly in the pizza Marc and I had in Mexico, interestingly enough.) 
That night, we stayed in one of the cheap dorm-style rooms at the Pension Santa Elena,
in a room shared with five other girls.
Maybe it was just the cooler temperatures, but this was my least favourite of all the
places we stayed. It could have been...
The next morning, Talina got shocked again in the electric shower. We had gallo pinto for breakfast, then waited for the "taxi" to the Monteverde Reserve. It was a grey, rainy day and our taxi (a mud-splattered Jeep) splashed through puddles on the bumpy road on the way to the Reserve. 
We opted to do the Sky Walk rather than the heavily advertised and twice-the-price Sky Trek - despite the identical sounding names, the Sky Trek was a series of zip lines over the rainforest. Had it been a MUCH cheaper option, I would have combined it with the Sky Walk, just for the experience, but $50 for 10 minutes didn't sound very cost-effective. The Sky Walk, in contrast, was a long series of metal bridges and platforms swaying 
in the rainforest canopy. To get to the first platform, we had to climb
seven flights of corkscrew stairs, rusty and slick from the constant
mist. Talina said nervously, "Maybe this isn't a good idea..."
As we began to walk, I said, "The rainforest feels familar - this is just like hiking in the Pacific Northwest." The steady drip of rain added to that impression. We saw the flash of a few birds, but never glimpsed any animals or even insects. I suspect it had something to do with the (thankfully rare) groups of loud people marching through so quickly it were as though they were being timed. Talina and I stood still in one spot for a long time though, on a bridge swaying above the forest canopy, and we heard some hauntingly beautiful birdsong. We had dinner at a tiny soda in the shadow of the town church, which had come recommended by the manic Frenchman at the front desk of the Pension. We were the only tourists there, and the woman running it didn't speak any English. We both had casadas and they were excellent - black beans and rice (of course), fried plantains, pickled salad, a soft bland white cheese, and a tortilla to wrap everything up in.  That night, we hung out in the wood-paneled common room of the Pension, drinking
cups of pungent black coffee, talking to an older woman who had been
to Costa Rica three times before. There were notices up about a horseback
ride to the next town over: La Fortuna. It was slightly expensive, but we wanted
to see that area anyway and the trip by horseback was 4 hours faster than the same
trip by bus, so we decided to do it.
Before going to sleep, we went to the supermarcado and
bought a loaf of brown bread and several avacados, for breakfast.
We stayed at the Pension again our second night, but this time we paid an extra $5 to have our own room. It was infinitely better: wood walls, red tiled floor, bunk-beds, and even our own bathroom. However, the plank of wood that served as a bathroom door kept falling open, allowing the light shining in from the bathroom window to fall directly on my face. Finally I got up and jury-rigged the door shut. My solution involved vast quantities of dental floss, strategically tied to solid components of the room, looping around the piece of wood and holding it fast to the doorframe. Talina got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and got stuck in the web of floss. She didn't think it was funny either. NEXT: We ride on horseback to La Fortuna
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