Baers,

I wish you could see the landscape that fills Junior’s and my view as I write this: lush, green, cloud forest; a flower-strewn garden drawing several kinds of hummingbirds we’ve never seen as well as a lot of other birds, Lake Arenal down there below us. And as soon as the cloud cover parts (there’s a cold front hanging over us), we’ll have spectacular views of Arenal Volcano.

We left our hotel near the airport in our tiny little SUV yesterday after the staff in the hotel restaurant decided not to charge us for our coffee after all (very nice folks) and pulled in to the nearby Walmart to stock up on vittles and a shockingly pink raincoat for Junior.

Then we commenced a gorgeous four- or five-hour drive through back roads towards the northwestern province of Guanacaste, along the Nicaraguan border. It has developed so much since I was preaching in churches out here and teaching courses to the pastors of those churches. The rivers are still running at a furious pace with the water that Hurricane Otto dumped. The death toll is now ten, mostly in two towns up here. We stopped for snacks at a little indoor/outdoor setup along the road. As we were paying, we got chatting with the owner. Before we left, he said, ‘I want to give you something to take with you.’ It was a deliciously sweet milk and coconut pastry. Very nice gesture of the kind that warm the heart.

The last few miles to our destination made it clear why having a 4×4 is required. Very steep and very rough, the better to discourage people from discovering this paradise. The house we’re in is indescribably beautiful. I never knew places like this existed in Costa Rica, and for a comparative song.

After we’d settled in for a while, we drove back downhill about a mile to a tiny little restaurant named Phoenix that had been recommended. We were the only customers of Juan and ‘Luisa’s daughter’. Luísa, whom we did not meet, is the famous cook but I don’t know how she could do better with tilapia in garlic than her daughter did. We had the nicest time chatting with Juan, who is—like just about everyone we’ve met in the area—originally from Nicaragua. Such warm and accessible people.

Included in our rental is breakfast by Lillian, a vivacious Nicaraguan woman who comes by with her daughter Dayana and cooks up a storm of a Central American breakfast in our capacious kitchen. Wow, it was good. By the time I made it down from our room, Karen and Lillian had been working at a laughter-rich conversation for some time in spite of Lillian speaking no English. Tomorrow Lillian is going to teach Junior how to make (Nicaraguan) tortillas.

After breakfast, Junior and I both went back to sleep until noon.

The birds are amazing, which probably means the rest of the animal world is equally dazzling here. If and when it stops raining, we’re going to pull on our boots and long pants (mandatory) and explore some of the trails.

In a bit, we’ll drive down the mountain and pick up some further supplies at a grocery store. We have a huge wrap-around porch area where it’s wonderful just to hang out in the evening (or all day, for that matter), so that’s where our day will begin to slide to its conclusion.

Love,

Dad/Dave