On a sad note, we lost a family member during our latest move. My buddy and constant companion, Dip, developed some breathing problems, which were diagnosed as a form of pneumonia and tracheal compression. Despite medications to treat this and digestive problems, her age could not stand the stress and her bad days exceeded her good days an it was time for her to cross the rainbow bridge. Lost, but never forgotten is my Dippy Dog.
As one door closes, another opens. When we return home from our sad goodbye to Dip, we are greeted by a local dog, somewhat malnourished who is in need of some food and love. We call him Bones and he is now a regular on our patio and is greeting us every morning with a tail wag and a lick.
I started this blog as a traveler/vacationer, and now that I have made the transition to “Pensionado”, I have gotten lost in the Pura Vida and stopped writing. But life is good in Costa Rica and Jackie and I continue to enjoy the country, the nature, the culture, but most of all the people.
Our first year of retirement was spent in an area of familiarity along the North Pacific coast of the province of Guanacaste, where we had always vacationed and had accumulated a host of friends and acquaintances. Our condo was ultra-comfortable with all the conveniences of home. We met many new North American friends, played cards and darts, had happy hours at the pool, went out to dinners en-masse, and lived what essentially was a North American life, but only with a tropical flair. There are many times I miss this interaction (although I do not miss the extreme temperatures year-long) and the friendships acquired during the first year will never be lost, but there was something that was missing from the permanent move to our new country.
When we moved in 2015 to the canton of Naranjo, it was a total climatic and cultural transition. We were gringos in a strange land, our closest neighbors being 500 meters away, separated by coffee fields and ridge valleys. We were anomalies, but totally accepted nonetheless. My Spanish was abysmal, but, with the help of local neighbors and shopkeepers, steadily improved. Jackie made plates of cookies, cakes, and breads to share with out Tico neighbors, who, at first, did not know what we were offering, but after tasting the confections, were most appreciative. In short, we became known and accepted by our new community.
Our best friend was Nestor Vargas, who lived in a family finca on the next ridge. Nestor took care of the landscaping of the property we were renting, provided us with resources for the daily maintenance of the house and our well-being, and, most of all, shared the abundance of fruits and vegetables from his farms. With his help, we were able to savor all of the tastes that the nature in the area provides. In return, Nestor was able to get the North American experience of Jackie’s baking skills, taking home many loaves of banana bread, pumpkin pie, and cookies. It is a good friendship and, although we moved from that property upon the owners’ return, it is a friendship that is etched in stone and will continue.
So onward we move. Our landlords, after a year, move back to Costa Rica, and with Nestor’s help, we find a home in Sabanilla which is a barrio about 11 km from San Antonio de Naranjo. It is just across the border in the next eastern canton of Sarchi. The house is a bit higher in the hills at 4,200′, with about 2 acres of fruit groves, and while we lose the view of four volcanoes, we now have a 270 degree view of sunrises, sunsets, and a vista over the valley to include San Jose out to Cartago. The night views from our second floor balcony are breathtaking.
And now we live among neighbors. To the lower side of our house is Nino, our new Nestor who stops by daily, if not to just say, “Buenos Dias”, but to bring us fruits and vegetables from his groves. He does not speak English, but accepts my limited Spanish and speaks slowly enough for me to understand. I don’t think Nino has ever had a bad day as he is always with a smile when he calls out, “Don Eduardo! Como llevar?” Above us lives Elvis (I kid you not), who I am told is an automotive mechanic par excellence. Higher up is a U.S. Ex-Pat, Scott and his wife Cecilia. Scott is an artisan furniture craftsman who is now in the process of making our new bedroom suite. There are many more neighbors we will yet meet, but all give the friendly waves as we drive by, as if we have been their neighbors for years. I am sure with a few gifts of Jackie’s baking offerings, we will have friends for life.
In short, I think this is the life for which we moved to Costa Rica. With all due respect to our Non-Tico friends throughout the country who we love dearly, had we wanted to live a Gringo lifestyle, we never would have moved. I wear the title of Gringo Ed as a badge of honor from my local pizza delivery guy. I like that I can walk down to our grove and pick fresh oranges from a tree for my morning juice. Having friends like Nestor, bringing us milk warm from the cow to make fresh cheeses, and Nino who gives us Mandarinas and plantains from his farm is a true expression of what we expected from our new home.
It is hard to believe that it has been over a year since my last post…but not surprising given all that has been experienced and changed since our move to Costa Rica in February, 2014. Our migration following my retirement was to a place with which we were familiar and had many friends and acquaintances. Guanacaste, and the Tamarindo area specifically had so much to offer us given the popularity of the location to North Americans and Europeans. The abundance and diversity of restaurants throughout the area never left one unfulfilled, and, of course, we had our favorites that were the go-to places to fill our gastronomic needs. Supermarkets, also, offered both local and “Gringo” fare so that we never felt far from our roots. The flora and fauna as displayed in previous postings were exotic, plentiful and wonderous.
But the area also had its challenges. First and foremost was the climate. It is nice to vacation for a couple of weeks away from the bitter winters of the North to the brilliant sunshine and heat of the beaches in Guanacaste, but when you live in 90 degree temperatures day in and day out, it does tend to get to you. The availability of a pool and the air conditioning in the condo provided relief, but with electric rates being very high in Costa Rica, we had to ration the usage of the air conditioning to the warmest parts of the day.Slowly, our friends and neighbors at the condominium complex started moving out for a variety of reasons: health problems, business relocation, larger accommodations and seasonal moves back to North America. We decided that we were ready for a change.
We had travelled to the Central Valley to visit friends there and found that the temperatures, because of the altitude were much more pleasant. The views of the volcanos above and the cities below, along with the different varieties of plant life gave us an indication of what we could expect by moving to this area of the country. While this area is not directly on the beaches, a short 1/2 hour drive would take us to the beaches of Puntarenas, Jaco and Manuel Antonio on the Central Pacific coast. However, the timing of a potential move proved to be a problem since February is in the height of the high season and the availability of housing is slim, at best.
The areas we were looking to relocate were in the province of Alajuela with ridges that rise up to elevations of 2,000 meters. Towns of Atenas, San Ramon, La Garita, Sarchi and Grecia were on our list of favorable move sites, but, as I said, the selection was not that great. Our requirements were not that demanding: a minimum of 2 bedrooms, an updated kitchen with a stove (since Ticos usually only cook with a range top and rarely use an oven, a Tico kitchen would not work for us), and, most of all, pet friendly. We visited several properties over a 6 week period that would be available for the timing of our move, but none were what we would call ideal. We then thought that perhaps by extending our lease at the condominium for 3 months would give us time to view properties that would be available after the high season ended. These plans were dashed when the management of the condominium complex wanted our condo for weekly rental during the high season and would not extend our lease. Our hands were now held over a fire and we decided to perhaps settle for the best of the properties we had viewed.
We made one last trip to the Central Valley in January to view a couple more properties before we decided and a friend from the area knew of a couple who wanted to move back the Florida and had their house for sale, but might be open to the possibility of a rental arrangement since the house had not sold in over a year on the market. Via emails and phone conversations, we made arrangements to view this property which was just on the outskirts of a town called Naranjo (translated as Orange Tree). We met the owner in a downtown location so that he could guide us up to the property which was an uphill climb the entire 5 kilometers. The last 500 meters was on a gravel road winding through coffee fields and I thought to myself that we would never be able to find this house again on our own. The owner, Al, opened the electronic gates and we climbed a steep driveway to the house and it took our breath away. It was a sprawling ranch house with a wrap around veranda, looking down to a lower level with a pool, and off to the east, clear views of four volcanoes. Al’s wife Zaira showed Jackie through the house and all I heard from Jackie was, “Oh my God” which was her reaction to the large professional kitchen. Three large bedrooms each with a private bathroom, a family room, a parlor and a formal dining room completed the interior of the house, which included a complete security and camera system throughout, but comparing this house to the others we had viewed gave us a sinking feeling that this would be out of our price range. I was in charge of the negotiations and when Al told me what he was asking for rent, I had to struggle to keep a poker face since it was much lower than anything we looked at that we would have to “settle” for. I should say, at this point that Al and Zaira had two large dogs, Digger and Luca who were very friendly and took to us immediately, but could be very intimidating should someone come around that is not inviting. Al told us that a neighbor wanted Digger, the Rottweiler, but that he would be taking Luca back to the shelter for adoption. Since the dogs were so friendly and good for guard dogs, we offered to “adopt” them so that they did not have to get used to a new environment. Al and Zaira loved us for the offer and discounted the rent to accommodate the expenses for the dogs, which we did not expect. We shook hands on the spot and sealed the deal over beers and lemonade. As we left the house, our heads were spinning from our good fortune, and we discussed all we needed to do over the next month to make the move.
Anyone who has moved residences knows about the sorting, packing organizing, etc. that goes along with the process, but knowing where we were moving to made the chores less painful. Our logistics friend, Mike Rappaport, who arranged our move from the States handled the move from Guanacaste to San Antonio de Naranjo. Moving day arrived and two young Ticos arrive in a small stake body truck with a tarp over top and, looking at it I said to Jackie that there was no way that they could get our furniture, plants and 32 bins of household goods and tools onto this little truck. I left the men to their own devices and, sure enough, they fit everything onto the truck tightly with no room to spare. Aside from an almost 2 hour delay due to a road blockage by the residents of a small village protesting a delay in water delivery, we made it to the house and the men had everything unloaded in under an hour. We could finally settle into our new home. Nighttime came and we were treated to a view below of the cities of the Central Valley, Alajuela and San Jose, with their city lights twinkling in the distance. We were also greeted with evening temperatures and breezes that allowed us to sit on the veranda to enjoy the views without sweating, and Jackie actually donned a light sweater later on. No need to sleep with air conditioning anymore, which would not be an option since the house does not have nor needs central air conditioning.
The next day I went to the local supermarket in Naranjo and was greeted by total culture shock….we were not in Kansas anymore, Toto. Naranjo and the surrounding area is almost entirely Tico with virtually no English spoken. The supermarket carried products used by the local population (an entire aisle dedicated to nothing but rice and beans) with absolutely no American fare at all. However, since the store is frequented by the local people whose budget is limited, the prices were at least 30% lower than what we were accustomed to pay in Guanacaste, a tourist area. I am now acutely aware that assimilation and a grasp of the Spanish language would be essential for us to survive here.
Our neighbor and family friend of Al and Zaira visited us on the first day. Nestor and his family live on the next ridge east of us and own property and farms throughout the area and fortunately he has a decent grasp of the English language. He brought us bananas from his farm…not a small bunch of bananas, but an entire branch off of a banana tree, along with fresh limes, mango and avocados picked that day. We sat and chatted with Nestor over coffee and he said that he maintains the property and gardens for Al and Zaira, so we made arrangements for him to continue to do this for us. The property is 1 1/4 acres over four levels elevating 200 meters from bottom to top. It is populated with local palms, fruit trees, flowering vines and bushes, and bordered on each side by coffee fields. It is entirely fenced so the dogs have free roam of the property which they immediately took advantage of, sniffing every blade of grass.
We have traded in the tall palms and guanacaste trees of the coast for coffee bushes and fruit trees. Howler monkeys and iguanas do not thrive in this area, but capuchin monkeys and three toed sloths are common. Kiskadees, oropendolas, parrots, paraguys, and the occasional toucan are our neighbors in the trees throughout the property. There are, however, snakes, cane toads, and a wide assortment of beetles and spiders that occupy the area, so some caution is necessary.
We have been here for 6 months now and have fallen in love with everything about this region. We have North American friends that live in Grecia, a town 12 kilometers southeast of us, with whom we get together regularly for parties or just a snack at a local soda. They introduced us to the Friday feria in Grecia which is a farmers market that sprawls over an area that would cover three football fields, the vendors offering fruits, vegetables, meats and seafood, and prepared food, all grown and made locally. The prices for the goods are roughly half of what you would pay at the supermarkets, and since it is all local, it is extremely fresh. My favorite vendor is a local artisanal coffee grower who sells his dark roasted beans and ground coffee at prices so low it makes me wonder how he makes a profit. You can smell his coffee throughout the feria as he continually grinds more beans for sale. We have little need for most fruits since Nestor keeps us well supplied with most fruits, but there are strawberry growers at the feria who come down from the mountains above Grecia which is known for their abundant strawberry fields. We have found one farmer who has strawberries that are almost as sweet as sugar. Another farmer sells fresh onions and he is always one of the most cheerful people at the feria. His smile brings us to him to buy a vine of onions and he always makes sure to put a couple of peppers or garlic in the bag as a show of thanks. I take out a 10,000 colone bill (about $19.00 U.S.) at our first point of purchase, fill two large market bags of our purchases, and end up with change in my pocket. The average feria costs us about $15 U.S. and we have fruits, vegetables and supplies for 2 weeks.
Our experience with the friendliness of people in the area is not limited to the feria, however. Throughout our days travelling to the towns of Sarchi, known for its furniture makers and artisans, San Ramon, La Garita, Alajuela, and right here in Naranjo, we are met with smiles from the people. Men will walk up to me and just shake my hand with a friendly “Buenos”, store owners and workers who go out of their way to help me knowing my fledgling Spanish is lacking, gas station attendants who not only pump your gas but check your tires’ air pressure and wash your windows, and mostly just people walking up and down the local roads who always give you a cheerful wave as you drive by. I feel no qualms stopping and offering a ride to someone walking to town or waiting for a bus, and it is so appreciated by the people it is heartwarming. Necessity is the mother of invention and because of this, my Spanish is improving but far from fluent, but with the help of our new neighbors and friends, I am sure I can be conversant in a short time.
Pura Vida.
New House on Moving DayOur Daytime View of the Central ValleyNighttime View of the Central ValleyNaranjo BasilicaDowntown NaranjoSunrise Over the VolcanoesSunset CloudsFull Moon Over the Volcanoes
The condo is just as we expected (albeit, some of the furniture will be replaced), but we finally made it to Huacas, all pets and luggage intact, but not without some bumps in the road.
Initially we were to leave for Atlanta on Monday, January 27 for a flight on January 28. However, Mother Nature and her polar vortex had other plans and stranded us in Indiana with drifting snow, sub zero temperatures and travel advisories keeping us from leaving. Many thanks to Delta Airlines, Hertz, Hotel Indigo and Vamos Rental Car for accommodating the changes. New date for travel was set for Wednesday, February 5, but to hedge our bets against the future weather forecasts, we were making the trip to Atlanta in 2 days, escaping a storm by making a stop in Nashville.
Monday, February 3 comes and we pick up our full-sized SUV at Hertz, and luggage, Dog Carriers, pets, laptops, cameras, etc. are loaded floor to ceiling…off to Nashville! It was very cold, but clear and the roadways were snow-free on the first leg of the trip. The pets have never been on a car trip this long, and Dip had to watch everything from the rear window and Spike wailed his displeasure for a few hours before settling into a slumber. It is difficult to find hotels that are pet-friendly, but fortunately my friends at Holiday Inn Group have Inns, Hotels and Suites that could offer us accommodations, and at Nashville we stayed at the Candlewood Suites. It was a nice enough place, needing some TLC, but the touring group needed a good night’s sleep and this was a good place for it.
Onward to Atlanta on Tuesday, but it was a dreary, rainy drive through the mountains until we arrive at the Hotel Indigo at the Atlanta Airport. This is a very upscale hotel, pet-friendly, and thanks to my travel points, was complimentary. Jackie and I went to the lounge for our last cocktails in the U.S. and our bartender, Pam was a real pro and very entertaining. But since we had a 9:30 AM flight on Wednesday, we retired early enough to get the entourage to the airport in the 2 hour expectation of Delta.
Now it gets hairy. It appears that we are flying out of the International Terminal of the airport, which is 20 minutes from the Domestics with which I am familiar. Jackie and I unload animals, luggage, carry-ons, at the terminal and I proceed to return the rental to Hertz…20 minutes away. Scan the bar code on the Nissan, get my receipt, and off the shuttle to the terminal…another 20 minutes. When I enter the terminal, Jackie is there frantically waving me to the check in desk. Heck, we have 45 minutes before boarding. Jackie had already checked in the pets and her luggage and all I needed to do was check in my bags and get my boarding pass. But Delta requires a minimum of 1 hour prior to boarding to check in and the desk attendant was sticking by the rules. Bottom line: we are now rebooked on a new flight for Thursday at 5:45 PM.
So we had to recollect the pets with no vehicle, no hotel, so the cell phone went blazing. Budget Rental was able to give us an SUV (spell that expensive), Drury Inn by the International Airport had a room for us and our pets, so it is one more night in Atlanta. If you are not familiar with Drury, they have a complimentary cocktail reception in their lobby. Suffice it to say that Jackie and I took advantage of it.
Thursday arrives and we arrive at the terminal with almost 4 hours to spare. Entourage unloaded again, rental returned, shuttle completed, and everyone is checked in. Pets are sleeping on the floor of the terminal not knowing what the next step is, but the boarding kennels are looming by us, so they know something is up. Aside from one hard-ass bike cop confronting me about walking the dogs outside of their carriers “or else I will cite you” the wait was pleasant and peaceful. Then, with a bit more than an hour to board, we load up the pets in their carriers and head to their loading area. After the TSA check of the dogs and kennels for explosives, they get taken away for loading, barking and whining…it is a short flight in a temperature controlled environment, so they will be safe. The feline pets had to be carried through the security check and they were none to happy about going into the carriers again.
There is something to be said about being a Medallion traveler with Delta as we were expedited at the check-in and got to our seats early, only to fond out the third person in out aisle is allergic to cats. Now we do the seat shuffle with a young guy from Minnesota taking the seat for free cocktails (my kind of guy…great negotiator). After the dust settles with overbooking and everyone in their appointed places, we take off for San Jose. I had booked a suite at a pet-friendly resort on the north side of San Jose for the night, but we had not ventured through San Jose in the past so this would be a new adventure. When we cleared Customs (surprisingly quickly with the pets) we met Max with Vamos to get us through the car rental process. What an awesome guy, staying a couple of hours after closing to meet us and complete the rental contracts. He even went so far as to lead us to the resort since there was construction on the main roads and he escorted us through the back roads which we would have never found.
Casa Conde is a colonial condo complex with 2 bedroom units that are very nicely appointed, and, above all, comfortable beds, and slumber was easily attained. We left the complex on Friday morning with “easy” directions to the main highway. One wrong turn and 3 hours later we are finally on the Pan American Highway to Guanacaste. Road construction is a way of life in Costa Rica, and we found it on the way to Liberia. But when it is all said and done, we make it to our condo at 4:30 in the afternoon. Sunshine, brisk trade winds, and third floor moves of our pets, overstuffed luggage and supplies greet us in Huacas. But it is Pura Vida…our family is home. None of the roadblocks have dampened our desire to live our retirement in a place we love. So our pets sleep at their new home, Jackie and I share a salad and a cocktail, and go to our bed with the winds of change blowing over us for the first night in paradise.
The alarm goes off at the hotel at 5:00 AM and after showers and last doses of real coffee, it is time to load the shuttle to the airport. Fortunately, the gang was able to retrieve Smalls from his captors for the trip:
Smalls Recovered
After getting our exit visas at the airport and checking in our luggage, it is time for the fateful walk through security for the sad trip home. The new Liberia airport is a far cry from the open air version the last time we flew through here, but besides the Brit (coffee and gifts) stores, there is little else, so with no Duty-Free shop, it was a good thing we purchased our Centenario and cigars at the local stores. American Airlines had overbooked the flight and they were asking for volunteers to give up their seats…very tempting.
Prior to boarding, we had to pass a second security checkpoint where the police open and check your carry-on bags. Unfortunately, Kyle had three packages of jellies that he wanted to bring home but, even though they were sealed containers, they were considered a gel and above the 3 oz. limit, so they were confiscated. Then onto the plane for the 2 1/2 hours to Miami where we would have to clear U.S. Customs. When we deplaned in Miami and walked the length of the airport to Customs, it became evident that we were not the only plane that needed to clear…there had to be about 7 plane loads of people at the point of entry. Fortunately after our wait, we got a BP agent that had a personality and engaged in conversation. Then we had to retrieve our luggage, only to roll it another 50 feet to be reloaded.
Lunch was at TGI Fridays and then the length of the airport once again to our gate for the flight to Cleveland. Sad we are finally leaving tropical weather for the midwest winter…but it was inevitable. I refused to take off my shorts in defiance of the cold and I called the hotel for the shuttle. Little did I know it was the wrong hotel and we got a 45 minute tour of the Cleveland airport area…only to go back to the airport to call the right hotel which provided us with a town car for our trip.
Daryl was still at the desk at the hotel and as pleasant as the first time we arrived, so it was a very welcome back to reality indeed. After a good meal in the restaurant it was an early bed (with the boys laughing at Grandma snoring). Long gone are the 90 degree temps, the heavenly coffee, the friendly denizens, the flora and fauna…but with the solace that we will return soon and enjoy it all again. Hopefully with our El Sabanero compatriots with whom we’ve befriended and will remember always.
It is always difficult on our last day in El Sabanero, so after a brief trip to Tamarindo for souvenirs (I hope you like the plaque Kyle got you, Abby) and another batch of Cubans, we head back to the lodge for the last swims and the overstuffing of baggage. It was sad that Donald had to go to the city for computer supplies prior to us leaving and CR Ed had to do the duties:
I cannot say enough about our host, Kurt, and his staff, Donald, Yami, and Wilbur who make each visit an experience that is unforgettable. It is a bittersweet goodbye, but we know it is only temporary. Via con Dios, my friends.
Since our flight leaves early on Sunday, arrangements were made with the Hilton Garden Inn Liberia for a stay overnight. I dropped the gang and luggage off at the hotel before going to Vamos to return the Toyota. Anibel was on-duty ( I think he sleeps there) and when driving me back to the hotel, he asks me, “What can I do to make your experience with us better?”. This is customer service Tica style.
The Hilton was very modern while maintaining the Tican atmosphere. Jorge, the bell captain made sure all of our needs were met, and the restaurant offered entrees and desserts that were decadent. Zach and I played a spirited game of volleyball in the pool while Kyle worked off his beer belly on the treadmill, before we all retired to bed for the night and the early departure from Liberia.
It is always a sad day when new friends have to leave El Sabanero and today, it is time to say goodbye to Brad and Sherri, along with Christi. Things won’t be nearly as lively (or debaucherous) without them here. But as we have in the past, we always stay in touch with the friends we meet here and have high hopes that we will be together again to share the food, fun, booze and laughter. Thanks again for your company down here and the memories we have created.
We had to go with Kurt to Tamarindo this morning for an appointment with our lawyer, so we missed out on an extra couple of hours with our friends. After our brief meeting, Kyle, Jackie and I walked through downtown and ended up at FT’s for lunch. It looks like Kyle is hooked on their chicken burritos. Zach was hanging by the pool so we headed back after lunch for some sun and water, which was refreshing in the 97 degree temps. The boys like us are looking very Tican, relaxed and well sunned.
Da BoysMi Familia
Kurt invited us to dinner at a secret little Soda in Playa Flamingo he had found. After arriving in Flamingo, we got well off the main track though a street of small ramshackle homes and alleys with chickens walking all over the streets. We end up on a beach with a little Soda with about 5 tables. We sit down by the beach and order Red Snapper for Kurt and me, Shrimp for Jackie, Casada of Chicken for Kyle and Hamburger for Zach (of course). The seafood is fresh within hours from the ocean and arrives looking beautifully:
Fresh Red Snapper
In true Costa Rican fashion, we look down the beach and see something you would only see here:
Bulls on the beach
After a stop for gelato we head back to El Sabanero for a quiet night with the residents and the night breezes.
NOTE: This is the “G” Rated version of the evening events. Propriety prevents me from unveiling some events since what happens in El Sabanero, stays in El Sabanero…right, ladies?
So it appears that during our absence, Brad organized a bar in the lodge and is lobbying for a job as the El Sabanero bar keeper. Now that he is officially a surfer dude, he would fit in well with the crowds but I heard he is a little bit heavy on the pour, not that this is an altogether bad thing. So Brad and Sherri, along with Christi, our resident from San Francisco, decided the night belonged to Surfer Dude Brad (now fondly named Bretttt) and Sherri (of course she has to be Gidget) with me as his bar back, and Kyle as the bar bitch. Donald was cooking up a storm and he looked parched, so I kindly took him his first Long Island Iced Tea, which he liked “mucho”. Of course we had to start the night off with wine all around. Everyone brought a different flavor, all of which were great, the we switched to Centennario, vodka, tequila and, of course, music. Brettt and Gidget warmed up the dance floor while I was refreshing drinks in the heavy-handed style that has become popular. In all, a great time was had, many words were slurred, and, to be honest, I know not what time we went to the cabina nor how I got there. But it was another memorable night in El Sabanero.
Your Host and Barkeep, BretttThe Host and his BitchChristi and Gidget“Hey there, big boy”Sampling the waresDancing with the Stars
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