Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Panama Canal Redux

Before proceeding, I am happy to announce that this blog has been reconfigured to allow comments by anyone, even those of you who, for some inexplicable reasons, do not have Google accounts.  Comment away, friends!

OK, so I'm writing this from the Caribbean, after having transited the Panama Canal once again. What's the rush, you might ask? (And Elizabeth, you have indeed asked) Well, we are now on the return leg of the journey.  After Nicaragua, we sailed to Puntarenas, Costa Rica, where we had one day of excursions, and then a day to disembark the passengers and embark a whole new set of folks.  Then there was a day of CR excursions near Puntarenas, after which we sailed to Nicaragua, and had a day there.  Then an "at-sea" day of enrichment sessions, during which I gave a lecture, and a day of transit through the Canal.  I'm going to run through this whole whirlwind period in a single mighty blogpost.

My opinion of CR remains unchanged, despite two excursions in Puntarenas, separated by a day lounging around on the ship.  We spend the first of the two days

 on a trip to a coffee plantation, where these two actors dressed up in Disneyish

 versions of traditional rural dress showed us around and explained how coffee was 

grown, harvested, dried, roasted, etc.  I enjoyed seeing this, and resisted the temptation to bow down before the coffee plants and worship them. They are, of course, the source of the sweet nectar of the gods.  The Kid was moderately interested, until he slipped on the gravel road and skinned his knees.  Tears ensued.

Later we had lunch, and, surprisingly, had an opportunity to shop for souvenirs.  The Kid picked up a small stuffed monkey whom he has christened "Plátano."  It's a cute little thing, and since it has magnets in its hands and feet it sticks to 

the walls and ceiling of his cabin.  I'm afraid to think of how much time the Kid has spent simply hurling the monkey up against the ceiling to see how and where he will stick, shrieking monkey noises all the while.  

My favorite part of this excursion was our stop in Grecia, where we got to take pictures of a gigantic version of the traditio

nal oxcart that is associated with this region.  I so love a roadside attraction.  Especially one that involves freakishly large versions of common objects.  Someday, I want to return to the Giant Artichoke I once saw in California.  I am also fond of arbitrary reproductions of far-away monuments, like "Foamhenge" near Staunton, Virginia.  It's Stonehenge reproduced with enormous foam blocks, and in the original form of the monument.  Why bother with the broken down version in England?

Our other excursion was meant to provide us with the eco-

wonderland experience that Costa Rican travel hype always promises.  We went on a rafting trip that was supposed to provide ample contact with nature.  The rapids, which were supposed to be class 1 and 2, were more like class 0.5, but we still had t

o wear helmets and life jackets.  We saw plenty of birds, baby crocodiles, long-nose bats, but only one howler monkey.  The Kid found the trip a bit overly long, as did I.  All-in-all, I prefer Mindo, in the Ecuadorian cloud forest. 

 

Our next few days are easily wrapped up.  In Nicaragua, we chose not to venture far from the port, because we decided we were sick of long bus trips with yammering tour guides.  So we had a simple day of shopping, eating lobster, and swimming at the beach.   We were driven around Corinto (the port town) in a triciclo driven by the exact same guy who had driven me around two years ago, when I went out looking for a potentially lost ship passenger, only to lose my wallet.  Herbie, the man in question, took us to his uncle's house to show us old calendars with before-and-after pics of Corinto, before taking us around to various pharmacies in search of a skin cream my Mom wanted (¡Mami, te encontramos la pomada!), then on to El Espigón for the lobster lunch depicted here.   The day after was an at-sea day, when I taught a group of people to love Rubén Darío (or tried to at least), and then the Canal day.  

Our second passage through the Canal was a bit like a second visit to Mt. Rushmore, at first.  We both had a "been there, done that" attitude, but it became more exciting at the final lock,

 which we transited parallel to an enormous container ship of Panamax size (the largest size ship than can fit through the Panama Canal).  The absolute enormity of the container ship added drama to the transit, and reminded us that we were sailing through one of the wonders of the modern world.  The Kid even managed to pull himself out of the pool to watch,those of you who know the Kid know that he does not leave a pool for just anything.  

Especially, I should add, when there are kids to play with.  Yes, folks, the Good Ship Grandparent has acquired a complement of 5 more children, three of whom are within a year of the Kid's age.  He's quite happy about this, I think. 

OK, I'm off to the lounge upstairs where I am going to join in on the karaoke.  Stone-cold sober, I might add.