crows to burnaby

On May 6 (day 2 in Monteverde) we went to the Selvatura canopy tour. There's two components to it: a series of suspension bridges over the treetops connected by paths, and a zipline tour from platform to platform through the trees. We met up with Paul and Wendy, a couple from Ottawa that we met at the night hike in Monteverde, and ventured forth on the canopy tour. We decided not to do the walk with a guide this time, since the groups were pretty big and we thought the people might just scare everything off as they walked along - as it turned out, it was almost impossible not to overlap with a group from time to time, and as the guides of those groups ended up finding another Resplendent Quetzal (that's #3 so far) and a bell bird, it wasn't a bad thing at all. (We also saw a 4th quetzal on a walk between ziplines. I thought those guys were rare?!)

I think my favourite bird of the area wasn't one I saw, but one I heard. It's called the black-faced solitaire, and I only actually saw it once, but its song was everywhere. It's a plain little bird whose song sounds like a swing on an abandoned swingset, or a squeaky gate - high, thin, metallic, and pure and beautiful. You can hear an example of it if you follow the link - the first wav file in particular. Just a gorgeous sound... Also, while walking paths between two of the ziplines, someone noticed a nest of chicks in the hollow of a tree; he made some chirping noises and they all opened their mouths for food. A zipline guide told us those were solitaire chicks.

The walk along the bridges takes around two hours, I think. We took our time as we weren't scheduled for a zipline tour until late morning. You could see the people zipping along at a few points along the bridge walk. I was getting a bit nervous about the zipline, mostly because I didn't know what to expect, but seeing people calmly flying along the line made me realize that you must get used to the sensation very quickly.

A van took us up the mountain to the start of the zipline tour, where we got instructions from a set of guides or assistants who would be helping us on the platforms and essentially leapfrogging each other to stay one step ahead of the oncoming pack. It was a big crowd - about 20 people or more - and we ended up right at the back. There was a kid who couldn't have been much older than 4, and a couple probably in their 60s. One girl freaked out and backed out halfway up the first staircase - the height and the suspense was just too much for her, and she didn't go on the tour.

And that turned out to be the scariest part. I got up to the top, helmet and harness attached, was hooked up to the line, took a breath and lifted my feet and wooooooshhhhhh. As soon as I was on the line any fears I had were settled. It's the most easy and relaxing feeling - it's not scary at all. You glide silently, sitting in your harness, one gloved hand back behind the pulley to control your speed and keep from spinning. The only sound is the fshhhhzzzz sound of the pulley on the zipline, the birds around you, and the occasional whoop of another happy zipliner. You feel so close to the canopy, much more like a part of the forest than removed from it like you do on the bridge. When you get near the platform, there's someone there to catch you and hook you to the next part of the zipline, so you're never untethered.

It was about a three-hour trip, with a few short hikes in between to get to a different part of the tour. Near the end there was a Tarzan-style swing - a rope attached to a strong tall tree and a platform from which to jump. Anyone who wanted to could get hooked up, jump off the platform, scream frantically for a moment before the rope caught them, and swing wildly back and forth. I opted out, as I've never been a fan of freefall, but Greg, Paul and Wendy all threw themselves joyfully into the void. I haven't got pictures of the zipline & rope swing, alas, as we stowed our camera in a locker for the duration, but Paul and Wendy took some so I may be able to show you later.

After lunch we walked up the mountain to Santa Elena reserve. It's higher up than Monteverde, and hence wetter and greener. (Eduardo did tell us that the Monteverde reserve has had increasingly long dry spells over the past five years or so. Global warming at work?) We only had about an hour there this time, and I wanted to chill out for a bit, so I sat quietly on some steps a short distance into the reserve and let the others hike. I listened to the birdsong surrounding me, immersed myself in greenery, and let my mind clear.

Greg and I went into town for a bit when we got back from Santa Elena, and browsed around. It is pretty tourist-driven - internet cafes, souvenir shops. There's some gorgeous woodworking mixed in with some staggeringly gawdy trinkets. Checked email at a neat internet cafe that's in a building with a tree built into it. The four of us met up and ate a delicious dinner at a restaurant called Morphos. Another interesting thing about Costa Rican restaurants, besides the ubiquitous pizza, is that it seems that if you don't actually ask for the bill, you will be ignored indefinitely. Which is fine when you've got nowhere you have to be, so we didn't mind.

The whole time we were there we waffled about whether or not to be paranoid about the water. We weren't about to chug a whole glass of tapwater, obviously, but there's other sneaky ways that water finds you - the ice cubes in your juice, or the freshly-washed lettuce in your salad. We carried bottled water with us, and mostly removed ice cubes from our drinks; ultimately we decided not to get obsessed about it. So I'm sure we got a little of the local water in our systems from time to time, but we were pretty much fine.

FYI, the hummingbird garden at Selvatura isn't nearly as nice as the one at Monteverde - there's more feeders and fewer birds, and it's close to some kind of sewage treatment equipment so it's not quite as nice a place to be. Which brings me to another note about Costa Rica, and from what I understand much of the area: toilet paper does not go into the toilet, because the sewage system can't handle it. There are little baskets in the stalls for your toilet paper. It's easy to adjust to the idea, but can be difficult to change a lifelong habit...

Next: from Monteverde to Montezuma.