Our first trip to the cloud forests. We went to a canopy walk, a very lengthy (and expensive) one. Rather busier and less wild than I would like, at least the paths and so on — the forest itself was spectacular. We didn’t see any animals but we’d have to come with a guide to spot them.
After the walk we had some time to kill before the reptiles were ready for a visit so we made our way to the hummingbird feeding station. This was a delight and also a bit terrifying as humming birds darted around, quarrelled and generally behaved in a very unpeaceable manner. One could put one’s finger by the feeders to make a perch, which was clearly much appreciated, though some had sharper claws than others. There was one larger variety in striking deep blue, several medium sized ones, all different types of green, of which one had a particularly vicious looking eye. Then there were a few very tiny ones, barely larger than an earwig, with flashing white tails.
One cannot go to see the reptiles without a guide, so we lined up dutifully and found we were the only ones to have requested an English language guide. So we had a pleasant potter, very unlike a usual guided tour, going from cage to cage and asking the guide question. There were some of Costa Rica’s spectacular little frogs and an alarming assortment of deadly snakes, each one seemingly deadlier than the last. My favourite night terror, though not the most poisonous, was the Mano de piedra or jumping pit viper which, according to our guide, leaps up in a deadly spiral to bite one in the face. Perhaps true, perhaps not, but I would have liked to see it.
On the return, a shuttle took us back to Santa Elena, the nearest town from which we could get a cab. This turned out to be quite a trial as it was a 40 minute journey and there were the most appalling people on the bus. The best of them were a pair of quite stupid sounding American college students (her: ‘I watched a film one, and then afterwards I saw the actor on TV, and he had a completely different accent‘; him: ‘British accents are really easy for Americans: howdy guvnor!’). Then there were some Brits. one of whom was that pink faced fluffy wavy white haired type that England seems to have a glut of, and with him was one of those thirty-something men who combine self-satisfaction with self-deprecation and speak in a constant self-mocking, self-aggrandising stream that they assume others find as amusing as they do themselves. Awful types, a big hit at the post-work drinks at the pub.
Anyway, partway through the journey there was a godawful shriek from one of the British women, and much flapping. The bus stopped, the shrieking continued. The driver turned around and I think there was an insect or something on her window. This was taken care off, and then the woman started laughing in hysterical shrieks. One after the other, the other Brits also started laughing, and it seemed like it could be one of those infectious bouts of laughter and I was just being a tightlipped prune about it, but then I looked around and realised none of the non-Brits were laughing at all. Wheezing, the fluffy haired man said ‘This is why we lost the empire, heh heh!’ and with that any desire to find humour in all of this vanished from me.
I reflected that this will undoubtedly be a severe disadvantage if I ever become fluent in Spanish. Right now I only get annoted by desi and Anglophone fellow travellers, but learning Spanish will add on a huge new group fellow travellers to comprehend and despise.
Cloud forests are very lovely.