Tag Archives: Costa Rica

Day (and Night) 8 – Still in Bijagua

Sunday 26 February 2023 – The lack of an appallingly early start to the day backfired on us slightly. According to the B&B information in the room, breakfast was served until 0930. But when we turned up at the lodge at 0915 it became clear that the service had only been until 0900. Nonetheless, Michele, the assistant manager, sweet talked the cook into rustling up a bit of scrambled egg and toast for us, which was very forbearing of them, and so we had a decent breakfast after all.

After that, we actually had a free morning, so I had plenty of time to sit down and update these pages, which sounds fine, but in fact there was a continual distraction as new birds came to the feeders nearby – the buff-throated saltator, for example

and the yellow-throated euphonia.

and so the morning passed peacefully enough until it was time for our first scheduled activity of the day – a cookery class. Now, those of you who know me will be well aware that I am to cooking as David Cameron is to Brexit. But I went along and tried to join in as best I could. Actually, it was an engaging three hours in the company of the Casitas manager, Nana, and her daughter Camilla, spent at the house of Vicki and Marcelino. Vicki is an expert cook of many years’ experience, a pillar of the local community, who is well established as someone who gives demonstrations of cooking traditional Costa Rican dishes. It being Sunday lunchtime, Marcelino honoured the local tradition by watching the football whilst we congregated in the kitchen and were directed by Vicki in the preparation of various materials.

Left to right above – Vicki, Camilla, Jane (stirring it as usual), Nana.

Vicki and Marcelino’s house is of a very traditional kind and they were happy for me to take photos of their very nicely turned-out dwelling – Lounge, kitchen and garden spaces.

It was interesting to note that the room walls don’t actually rise to meet the ceiling, so the house is more of a partitioned space than a dwelling with separate rooms. There is a mix of traditional and modern appliances – an old wood-fired stove next to an electric cooker (and a large LED TV so Marcelino could watch the footie).

Anyone who knows me will also understand my attitude to sharing photos of food, so I won’t be doing any of that on these pages, thank you very much. But it was interesting to see someone with Vicki’s skill at work, and one or two things – such as searing banana leaves in which to wrap tamales – were techniques that I’d never come across before.

The group (yes, including me) prepared tamales, empanadas and tortillas. Yes, we ate some of them as well. Jane practised her Spanish, and Nana translated for Vicki and Camilla and also told us about some of the traditions of life and cooking in that region of Costa Rica – for there are aspects of food preparation that are unique to the area, just as there are aspects that separate those of Costa Rica and Nicaragua and the other central American countries. It was a pleasant, if dietetically challenging, way of passing three hours, and Jane and I left feeling very full indeed.

We just about had time for a cup of tea before another ripple of excitement passed through the B&B, because another sloth had been spotted! So we hastened down to the lodge to take a look and to try for some more photos.

It was a three-toed sloth. For all the sloth’s reputation for sluggishness, this one moved quite swiftly. Every time we thought we’d got a decent angle of view, all we had to do was look away for a second and all of a sudden it had moved to a different place. Eventually it moved to where we could no longer see it, but it was nice to have encountered another one.

Then it was time to go out for the other planned activity for the day – a night visit to the Tapir Valley Nature Reserve. So off we went along the now-familiar stretch of road to the reserve, where a small number of people were gathered for their evening and night walk around the trails. Abner, our guide from yesterday, was there, as was another guide, called David, who looked after Jane and me and an American couple called Lisa and Scott. As before, we were equipped with boots, and, this time also, torches to light our way.

It was clear that David was very passionate about the mission of the reserve as he spent quite a lot of time explaining some of the background to what the reserve is trying to achieve. He also set our expectations by pointing out that it was dry season (i.e. not raining much), and so there would be fewer animals around to see. We did find a few, though: a coati, snuffling around for bugs;

a nightjar, just sitting on the path and not minding a bunch of people shining torches at it;

a couple of red-eyed tree frogs;

what David called a Sergeant Bird, actually Cherrie’s Tanager, hiding away in the reeds;

and miscellaneous other frogs,

so not really a bonanza of wildlife spotting, not that it was something that was under anyone’s control. To me it was miraculous what David was able to spot. I was more worried about tripping up and falling face first into a pile of tapir shit, frankly.

On that topic, David was able to demonstrate the seed-spreading effect of the tapir, by showing us a pile of faeces out of which several trees were starting to grow.

as well as samples of the fruit of the tree that they share that special relationship with, the Parmentiera Valerii (commonly name the Jicaro Danto tree). Thanks are due to Jane, who has spent quite a lot of time chasing down the exact name of this tree.

These samples were at the reception area of the reserve to which we’d returned after over three hours’ tramping (and often squelching) around the reserve. We were about to take our leave when David got a call on his radio from Donald, the founder of the reserve, to say that he’d located a couple of tapirs, and they were quite close by. So we rushed out to find them. it was a female (a daughter of Mamita of the previous day) and an as yet un-named male, and they were presumed to be courting. I even managed to get a couple of pictures of one of them (the male I think)

and you can tell that it had just caught wind of us. But it didn’t seem perturbed by our presence, and after a while we left the two of them to get on with their nocturnal foraging, and headed back to the reception to take our leave from David and the reserve.

So, once again we’d been lucky enough to catch sight of the tapirs, which made the evening’s exercise a very satisfactory activity.

Today was our last day in Bijagua; tomorrow we head a couple of hours south, for two nights at La Fortuna and, doubtless, further adventures, quite probably involving wildlife, so I hope you come back to find out what was in store for us.

Day 7 (afternoon) – Tenorio National Park

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Saturday 25 February 2023 – After the early morning excitement, I think we could have been forgiven for simply going back to bed to catch up with our kip. But no – the desire for relentless tourism drove us ever onwards.

I spent a little time writing up stuff for these pages. This had to be done at the Casitas lodge, where they have an internet available. They also have bird feeders, and so I was able to catch up with a few more species of the local wildlife, among them a Blue-crowned Motmot

These bird feeders gave us the opportunity for pictures of many more species, which I will come to in due course. But the next activity of the day called – a visit to the Tenorio National Park, which actually borders the Tapir Valley reserve, and is reached by simply going a litttle further along the road, past the reserve. (Tenorio is the name of the volcano at the centre of the national park.)

We’d read in the Pura Aventura notes that since it is a popular spot, it was best to go towards the end of the entry window so that we would get to the various sights after most people had left. The last permitted entry time is 2pm, so we bowled up to the entrance at about 1245 where we made the first of two important discoveries – if it’s crowded (e.g. a weekend such as today), they only let people in in bunches. So we had to wait until 1pm until they let us in.

The second discovery was one we made almost by accident. The main attraction of the place is a waterfall, and apparently most people simply go up as far as the waterfall and then go down again – but there are attractions beyond the waterfall, and we decided to go right to the end of the trail and work our way back along the other Things To See as well, rather than taking them in on the way up. For reasons which will become clear if you read on, this was a wise decision and is my Tip For The Day to anyone visiting – go to the end and work back. You’ll thank me.

The trail – there is only one – starts off as a formal path

before going on to less formal surfaces

which don’t necessarily hold up too well to the exigencies of thousands of feet and feet of rainfall in wet season.

Some it is quite steep, both up

and down.

In fact, I took a stumble going down one of these stretches. But it was OK; my phone broke my fall. It’s tougher than I am, so no damage done except to my pride. And as I got up and dusted myself off, I caught sight of this colourful little fellow, a juvnile Central American Whip Tail Lizard.

The trail basically winds its way along in approximate company of the Rio Celeste river. You can see various viewpoints on the the way, but, as I say, it’s good to see them coming down, i.e. effectively going down stream.

At the end of this formal trail is a remarkable sight which kind of sets the scene for the other Things To See on the way down, which anyone walking the trail will have caught some glimpses of already. But this is how it all starts.

This is the “Teñideros” where two rivers – Rio Buenavista and Quebrada Agria – meet. The pH change at the meeting point increases the particle size of aluminosilicates already present in Rio Buenavista. The waters of what is now Rio Celeste are then turned blue by sunlight scattering from the fragments. Some are also laid down as sediment – the white bar across the river. The myth runs that when the gods were painting the skies blue, this was where they washed their paintbrushes.

Moving further down the trail, you cross a bridge over the wonderful blue river.

until you come to a pool labelled “Borbollones”. You get no prize for working out how this translates to English.

Beyond Borbollones is the blue lagoon, a pretty reasonable description, I guess.

After some (quite stiff) more up-and-downery, you get to the most popular visitor spot. The signage for this quite fails to prepare you for what you’re about to undergo should you wish to visit.

“Catarata” is Spanish for “waterfall”, and it’s only 150 metres away. What could possibly go wrong?

Here is a clue.

It may be only 150 metres, but it’s a long way down. This is the view looking back from the bottom.

That awaits you for when you’ve drunk in the very considerable sight that you stumbled down all those steps to see.

Spending several moments there, trying to ignore the gurning selfie addicts (admittedly there were only four, but that’s because we got our timing right, courtesy of Jane’s researches) and absorbing strength from the natural beauty and energy of the scene might – just – prepare you for the journey back.

Jane took this photo of me plodding up the steps – 253, I counted ’em – to the top. (She was resting at that point. Hah!)

This is why it’s best to get to the top and work down. Had we visited the waterfall on the way up, I doubt we would have had much enthusiasm for the further ups and downs that lead to the end of the trail. It is quite a stiff walk. For four and a quarter miles, I would normally expect to expend 425 calories or thereabouts. This walk scored 825 on my activity monitor. No matter, it took us past some memorable scenes.

It also took us past a viewpoint where you could in theory see the Tenorio volcanoes.

One of them is Tenorio 1 and the other Tenorio 2. I don’t know which is which and the clouds got somewhat in the way. Ho, hum.

The park had one more treat for us as we went along.

Our fears of the place being overcrowded turned out to be unfounded, and all in all it was a very pleasant second excursion, albeit quite hard work. In fact, such hard work that we realised there was only one thing for it – pizza and beer. Fortunately, we had a recommendation for a pizza place in Bijagua (this is their Facebook page), so we hied ourselves there as fast as the speed limit and speed bumps would allow. There, we had a very good pizza and some very welcome beer with a little cabaret which took place beside me as I ate pizza, and which Jane recorded.

before heading back to the Casitas to relax for the rest of the day.

I have a heart of stone – the dog remained unfed despite its cute trick.

We had a couple of very contrasting activities scheduled for the following day, both of which turned out to be more fun than I thought they might be. So, please come back and see what we got up to. Hasta luego!

Day 7 (morning) – Tapir Valley Nature Reserve

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Saturday 25 February 2023 – Travelling offers experiences that are rich, rewarding and fulfilling.

Getting up at 0345 is not among them.

However, a deal is a deal, we’d agreed that a morning hike was Just The Thing as part of our Bijagua experience, and anyway we’d paid for it. So an 0345 alarm call was necessary in order for us to present ourselves at the entrance to the Tapir Valley Nature Reserve at 0520 having attended to our toilette and eaten the rudimentary breakfast that the Casitas management had thoughtfully provided for us the day before. But first we had to try to get some sleep. Apart from anything else it sounded like a major storm blew all night, with heavy winds and lashing rain on the corrugated iron roof of our Casita. Despite the racket and at least one outside light mysteriously turning itself on and equally mysteriously off again during the night, we managed to get under way in reasonable order.

Finding the Tapir Valley Nature Reserve turned out to be slightly less than straightforward. You might think that such a thing would be advertised or signposted from the road.

It isn’t.

We relied on instructions from Pura Aventura, which directed us to look for green gates on the right hand side, and Waze to give us a clue as to exactly where they were. We arrived there pretty much bang on at 0520 and

nothing.

Just darkness and padlocked green gates. We had a few “Bay of Fundy” moments, wondering if something, somewhere had gone pear-shaped in the arrangements before, to our relief, a chap on a motorcycle turned up with the means of opening the padlocked gates.

The motorcyclist turned out to be Abner, who was to be our guide for the morning hike.

(He, by the way, was the expert who identified for us the Groove-billed Ani that we saw yesterday.) He equipped us with wellies – something the nature reserve insists on because it mitigates the spread of unwelcome parasites into the ecosystem of the Nature Reserve. Said ecosystem also pretty muddy in places, so this also saves on your own footwear.

The Tapir Valley Nature Reserve is a private nature reserve, covering some 114 hectares of primary and secondary rainforest, and is dedicated to ecosystem development. A group of concerned citizens purchased the land over ten years ago with the vision of protecting valuable rainforest habitat for many animals, including the endangered Baird’s Tapir.

The prime purpose of our hike was birdwatching (early morning being the best time to see them). We explained to Abner that we weren’t avid birdwatchers but we weren’t averse to looking for large colourful ones (as opposed to the LBJs – little brown jobs – that send twitchers into paroxysms of ecstasy). So seeing that Li’l Abner was toting a scope didn’t at first set my mind at rest, since I was after stuff you could photograph, not something that needed a scope to see. In the event, the scope wasn’t needed, except that a couple of times it enabled Abner to identify a bird before pointing it out to us. He was kind enough to use the scope to get a photo for me on my mobile phone

which was kind of him, but didn’t really produce the results I would want. That bird, by the way is a Montezuma Oropendula, and I did get a good photo of it later, in case you were worried. It has the most extraordinary call.

Steve Walker · Montezuma Oropendula

I should be clear at this point that the morning was what the Irish might call “soft”

which doesn’t ease the process of spotting birds. Nor does the birds’ rather annoying habit of being largely difficult to distinguish from the abundant foliage of this basically forested area.

That’s a Crested Guan, by the way. Also, many of them can only be seen at a great distance. For example, there is a toucan in this picture. Really, there is.

Look carefully and you can make out a Kill Bill Toucan.

OK, OK, it’s really called a Keel-billed Toucan, but where’s the fun in that?

So Abner’s ability to spot and identify birds under these circumstances was rather handy. You can therefore imagine that I was a bit worried that I was going to come away with very few worthwhile photos. However, the good folk at the Nature Reserve had a trick or two up their sleeve. There are a couple of comfortable bird watching platforms set up

with bird feeding stations located nearby.

which give great opportunities for close up viewing – and, importantly for me, photographing – the various species of birds which come to feed:

Yellow-throated Toucan;

Montezuma Oropendula;

Black-cheeked Woodpecker;

and Costa Rica’s national bird, the Clay-coloured Thrush

The good folks at the Nature Reserve had also provided us with some refreshment, which gave Abner a break whilst we clicked and videoed away.

Some extra entertainment was available in the shape of a coatimundi (also called just a coati in this part of the world) fossicking around the bird feeding stations for any scraps that might be available.

;

As we left this station, the weather had cheered up a bit and the wetland area of the Nature Reserve looked really rather attractive.

We visited another birdwatching platform and I was able to take some photos of flowers where a humming bird had been just instants before. And as we walked around the reserve, we also saw an Eyelash Palm Pitviper.

It really is there, tightly wrapped in a ball, and fast asleep.

We would never have spotted it, but Abner knew it was there. And we saw a pair of Great Curassows.

All of this was wonderful, and it was great to have had the chance to see these birds and capture some nice photos. But I’ve told the story of the morning a bit out of sequence to keep for you the best, most surprising and loveliest moment of the day, which actually happened quite early on.

At one point, Abner stopped in his tracks in surprise at this scene.

What, you may ask, is so surprising?

There’s a tapir in it. Oh, yes there is.

You might think “so what – you’re in the Tapir Valley Reserve”, but actually we were really, really lucky, since tapirs are nocturnal. We were able to get closer and closer and finally got some great video. To see one in the daytime is extremely unusual.

To see two, however, was special – a mother with her 8-month-old calf. Tapirs are a species that relatively little is known about. They are ancient, having migrated into South America during the Pleistocene epoch from North America after the formation of the Isthmus of Panama as part of the Great American Interchange. Their nearest genetic relations are, unintuitively, the horse and the rhino. The reserve is important in its ability to gather information about the lifecycle and habits of this remarkable creature. You can see that Mamita is wearing a collar; this is a GPS tag so that her movements can be followed and mapped out with a view to gain deeper insight.

One of the activities the Reserve is carrying out is research into the relationship between the tapirs and a tree, Parmentiera Valerii. The tapir is one of the only animals which can eat the tough cucumber-like fruit of this tree and thence distribute its seeds through defecation. The trails around the nature reserve are frequently dotted with piles of tapir faeces, to the extent that one really has to watch one’s step.

Abner gave us one final treat, which was to see the strange nests of the Montezuma Oropendula. This bird gets part of its name from the fact that its nests are suspended below the branches of trees, and en route back to our B&B after the great morning at the reserve, Abner showed us a tree with the nests.

Here they are in close-up.

So ended a remarkable morning. Once again we’d been really lucky and seen something unusual. But our day wasn’t over yet – come back to the next entry to see what we did with the afternoon!