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Sergio dropped me off at the house on his way to deliver pupae to CRES. Before leaving with Sergio, I had made plans to meet with Carlos Espinoza of Guacimo on Wednesday. He has a small rearing operation but was very interested in getting me up into the mountains south of town. As usual, Oscar delivered pupae for seven breeders in the Guacimo/Guapiles area and had been asked to deliver me to Carlos as he had taken me to Grace’s more than two months ago. |
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When the pupae were all dealt with, we headed out, this time avoiding San Jose as we worked our way towards the road that would take us over the mountain to the Atlantic slope. As before, we stopped at a truck stop for a bite to eat just outside Braulio Carrillo. When Oscar and I had stopped there in March, I failed to take some pics of the trucks hauling lumber but was sure to this time. Although Costa Rica has the best record in Latin America for preserving its natural resources, it also leads the way in cutting down its forests. Five truckloads of timber were at the truck stop when we arrived and we passed several more as we went over the mountain. |
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After Oscar dropped me off, Carlos gave me a quick tour of his viveros and operations behind his mother’s house. We then walked a few blocks to a pulperia to buy groceries for the next few days and by the time we returned, our ride to the mountains had arrived. I was introduced to Angie, a neighbor who was going to cook for us and to Albert, a nephew who also would be joining us. With the driver and a friend of his, we headed out, all crammed into a Toyota pickup with an extended cab. Costa Rica does not allow people to ride in the back of pickups on the highway. |
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Fortunately, it was only about ten kilometers before we turned off onto a dirt road. Angie, Alberto and I got into the back—not only room to breathe but for a better view of the countryside as we headed up the mountain. It took more than an hour’s drive through farm and pastureland, broken up by second growth forests. Rain forced us back into the cab about halfway but we finally arrived at our destination, Finca las Orquideas. Dennys and Johnny are friends of Carlos’ and would be our hosts for three nights. |
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Finca las Orquideas (orchids) is about thirty-two hectares—about half of which is still forested. The forests in the area are familiar to Carlos as he frequently comes here for fresh stock, and these are why he brought me here. Originally he had figured we would camp in the forest but since I didn’t have a tent and heavy rains could easily be part of each day, he had asked if we could use Orquideas as our base of operations. |
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I am glad he did—and you couldn’t meet a nicer bunch of people. I was treated like royalty, especially by Dennys. I seem to hit it off with the women who host me since I eat anything and everything served to me, and that I offer to do the dishes. Here it’s widely considered "women’s work," at least by the men. |
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Dennys had purchased the farm about eight years ago, widowed and tired of the rat race and air pollution of San Jose. She pretty much built the house herself, of which she is very proud. She and Johnny, twenty years younger, were married three years ago. They found much in common, especially a love for plants and animals. It showed—both were everywhere. |
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