Kinda sad, maybe gross? Yet sureal! Never seen a dead Porcupine on a beach before.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Good trade...
...would you trade these for these? Hell ya!
Ten minutes from us, lay an incredible Mango Forest which is passed on our way to Nosara. Finally I made us stop and talk to "the guys" workin there, ya see prime Mango season is April, more than a month away. However, as with any other crop, nothing ripens on the same day and when shipping overseas, one picks early anyhow. So w/ me and my next to zilch Spanish, I figure out it is ok to drive thru the trees and back to something. I tell Marina back at the quad and she begins to assume there is a house back there. I did not hear anything about a "casa"? Heading along this deeply rutted, decades old tractor track with long beautiful diffused canopy light and Mangos dangling about. We go and go, then Marina hears a whistle. "Se vende Mangos?", I say to the three guys resting in true farm fashion--on a tractor fender, in the grass and on the trailer-- with crates of plucked Mango scattered about. In the end we have 7 yummy looking softball sized fruits, which, he says should be ripe in 3-4 days and he would like "trece coca-cola" of "grande" size and he would like them today, "esta tarde". We head home, unload and eat lunch, then back w/ three 1.5 litre cokes which cost 3,000 colones(less than $6). Track em down again and they are smiley. Seems even a bit surprised, maybe he meant--one 3 litre coke? Now they have 4.5 litres worth. Regardless he comes over with four more Mangos and we exchange greetings and handshakes from a man that Marina's partial Spanish can barely understand. Feeling like happy little kids, a guy at the wagon says "oy" and motions us to stop. Brings over a crate and fills our rear quad crate(38 Mangos). Everyone is smiling in "grande" fashion now. "Pura Vida, Buenas, Muchas Gracias" and more handshakes.
We are feeling perhaps like a Sandollar sized baby Turtle that made it to Sea, might feel?
Our crate full, his empty and all hearts brimming. Now if I just had that solar oven, so I could bake "the guys", Mango muffins!!!! Mango muffins w/ Coke?
Ten minutes from us, lay an incredible Mango Forest which is passed on our way to Nosara. Finally I made us stop and talk to "the guys" workin there, ya see prime Mango season is April, more than a month away. However, as with any other crop, nothing ripens on the same day and when shipping overseas, one picks early anyhow. So w/ me and my next to zilch Spanish, I figure out it is ok to drive thru the trees and back to something. I tell Marina back at the quad and she begins to assume there is a house back there. I did not hear anything about a "casa"? Heading along this deeply rutted, decades old tractor track with long beautiful diffused canopy light and Mangos dangling about. We go and go, then Marina hears a whistle. "Se vende Mangos?", I say to the three guys resting in true farm fashion--on a tractor fender, in the grass and on the trailer-- with crates of plucked Mango scattered about. In the end we have 7 yummy looking softball sized fruits, which, he says should be ripe in 3-4 days and he would like "trece coca-cola" of "grande" size and he would like them today, "esta tarde". We head home, unload and eat lunch, then back w/ three 1.5 litre cokes which cost 3,000 colones(less than $6). Track em down again and they are smiley. Seems even a bit surprised, maybe he meant--one 3 litre coke? Now they have 4.5 litres worth. Regardless he comes over with four more Mangos and we exchange greetings and handshakes from a man that Marina's partial Spanish can barely understand. Feeling like happy little kids, a guy at the wagon says "oy" and motions us to stop. Brings over a crate and fills our rear quad crate(38 Mangos). Everyone is smiling in "grande" fashion now. "Pura Vida, Buenas, Muchas Gracias" and more handshakes.
We are feeling perhaps like a Sandollar sized baby Turtle that made it to Sea, might feel?
Our crate full, his empty and all hearts brimming. Now if I just had that solar oven, so I could bake "the guys", Mango muffins!!!! Mango muffins w/ Coke?
Monday, February 22, 2010
Newly...
...witnessed "child soccer practice". Kid maybe 9 years old on opposite side of road as us and our quad. We cruise by at 38 kmph, the boys sets up, looks, checks the pace, looks and fires---SCORE!!!!!!! He wins the game. He nailed our left rear tire, I gave him a big thumbs up and he truly is his own hero.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Breaching...
...cow and calf Humpback Whales from our veranda view. Just one pair cruisin along!
This days chores...
...harvesting Quadrados. Buying fish and collecting river bottom soil for gardening. All three completed by noon or one and then the fun came along. Due to our lack of oven (rotten theives), I have been yearning for a solar oven. So one was crafted quickly and Pargo Rojo (red snapper) its first experiment. By 2 p.m. she was set in the sun and my remote thermo unit showed 109.9 F. and topped out at 139.8, well we were both concerned this temp was not enough to cook fish. I was contemplating the thermo not "fluctuating" at all, kinda like it lost its connection w/ home base, but there was no time for contemplation w/ Marina around, she was strought over ruining this great fish. Not me, Mr Pargo Rojo weighing in at 2 kilos (4 pounds) could have rotted in there and in the end I would have known if me little oven was worthy.
I gave in to this "looming down on me differing outlook". Rojo went inside and more questions had to be answered--What do we cook in now?, Why aren't you cooking over the fire as originally planned? Why are you so worked up?--Which led to my hands being swished aside and me saying to hell with it, retreating downstairs to a safer environment. Putting a fresh edge on my pocket knife became meditative and silence fell upon the house.
The remote thermo flatlined, just as suspected, connection had been lost. So who knows about the temp? While sitting in my "drift" chair under the rancho a clothespin was tossed down from the veranda, by my Lover. Oh, the signs of Love and lets make up!
We decided that next time, only one person will be in charge of cooking fish and soon after we enjoyed yummy fish tacos of perfectly prepared texture. Thank you Marina-------you little fighter! Sometimes I just want to.........you!
This days chores...
...harvesting Quadrados. Buying fish and collecting river bottom soil for gardening. All three completed by noon or one and then the fun came along. Due to our lack of oven (rotten theives), I have been yearning for a solar oven. So one was crafted quickly and Pargo Rojo (red snapper) its first experiment. By 2 p.m. she was set in the sun and my remote thermo unit showed 109.9 F. and topped out at 139.8, well we were both concerned this temp was not enough to cook fish. I was contemplating the thermo not "fluctuating" at all, kinda like it lost its connection w/ home base, but there was no time for contemplation w/ Marina around, she was strought over ruining this great fish. Not me, Mr Pargo Rojo weighing in at 2 kilos (4 pounds) could have rotted in there and in the end I would have known if me little oven was worthy.
I gave in to this "looming down on me differing outlook". Rojo went inside and more questions had to be answered--What do we cook in now?, Why aren't you cooking over the fire as originally planned? Why are you so worked up?--Which led to my hands being swished aside and me saying to hell with it, retreating downstairs to a safer environment. Putting a fresh edge on my pocket knife became meditative and silence fell upon the house.
The remote thermo flatlined, just as suspected, connection had been lost. So who knows about the temp? While sitting in my "drift" chair under the rancho a clothespin was tossed down from the veranda, by my Lover. Oh, the signs of Love and lets make up!
We decided that next time, only one person will be in charge of cooking fish and soon after we enjoyed yummy fish tacos of perfectly prepared texture. Thank you Marina-------you little fighter! Sometimes I just want to.........you!
Monday, February 15, 2010
Continuo...
...he said while handing my drivers license and passport copy back to me. This police officer waived us over at his choice spot of the day. Letting us know not wearing helmets carried a 5,000 colones fine per person, about $20. Yet on his way back from his little navy blue SUV with ticket book now in hand, he waived over another couple and I'll be damned--they were "white" also. Go figure! Riding a rental quad they were and being far more frazzled than ourselves, plus not having copies of their passports, he looked at us and handed my documents back and said, "continuo". We did not wait for an explanation. So we continuoed! This place is pretty entertaining and patience is a virtue here as well! Glad I found some back in 2001...Marina is still curious as to why he let us go w/o a ticket?
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Two glass plates...
...returned to Flor this evening and while hanging out, laughing at Steven watch some ridiculous tv program Flor gave us a cold fresca consisting of artificial everything, cold was the only thing it had going for us. The thought was nice. After awhile Steven comes over with a bowl of multi-coloured snacks, which turns out to be miniature marshmallows. We each ate "one"! Do the kids learn such eating habits from friends or family? Nasty nasty stuff.
Then Flors' Mama came over with a little sandy white looking ping pong ball thing. Asking if we have ever tried. Marina's expressions went crazy and slurred words lapped off her tongue, due to her knowing what was held before her. A Pacific Ridley Turtle Egg. I kicked Marina's shin below the bar to snap her out of the surprise frenzy written across her person and we said we had never tried. Then you can imagine, 15 minutes later over comes a bowl w/ two eggs inside, quarter of a lime and a touch of salt. Neither knew what to do and lots of animation was exchanged, in the end neither wanted to try this apparent delight. Mama does not like them, but Steven loves em, so the bowl was slid his way, he took the soft shelled egg and torn it in two as you would peel a thick mil of paint from your wall. Slightly elastic yet weak under pressure. Inside were nearly raw eggs, we definitely did not want any then. Smiley Steven tore the other one, bashfully eating them little by little as everyone looked on, kinda in a happy disgusted way. During his indulgence this bag was placed before us, 40-60 eggs I reckon.
Then Flors' Mama came over with a little sandy white looking ping pong ball thing. Asking if we have ever tried. Marina's expressions went crazy and slurred words lapped off her tongue, due to her knowing what was held before her. A Pacific Ridley Turtle Egg. I kicked Marina's shin below the bar to snap her out of the surprise frenzy written across her person and we said we had never tried. Then you can imagine, 15 minutes later over comes a bowl w/ two eggs inside, quarter of a lime and a touch of salt. Neither knew what to do and lots of animation was exchanged, in the end neither wanted to try this apparent delight. Mama does not like them, but Steven loves em, so the bowl was slid his way, he took the soft shelled egg and torn it in two as you would peel a thick mil of paint from your wall. Slightly elastic yet weak under pressure. Inside were nearly raw eggs, we definitely did not want any then. Smiley Steven tore the other one, bashfully eating them little by little as everyone looked on, kinda in a happy disgusted way. During his indulgence this bag was placed before us, 40-60 eggs I reckon.
WOW, so here it is February four months after the huge arribada of egg laying, where literally the beach below us is so thick with turtles you need to walk turtle to turtle to turtle during its peak. So the locals are still digging eggs, still eating and still not understanding.
Just like everything else of mans desire/disposal, they will disappear one day, as well!
Friendly El Salvadorans
We did some shopping for Flor our 19 year old neighbor from El Salvador due to there being no public transportation from Ostional to Nosara, which holds our closest supermercado and the the word "super" in that title is very mis-leading w/ an americano mindset. Flor's little brother Steven is a cute little six year old who skips around like a hopping Crow. Pretty amazing seeing how with only three years to his merit he was run over by a bus and both his legs were broken. Sportin' titanium at such a young age!
Upon returning w/ Flor's list all checked off, she tried to pay us for our trip, we declined, naturally. We did ask if they would show us how to make homemade tortillas and had a lesson at 6pm. Lard being a key ingredient was expected, but not so. Mis-nomer on our part, they just added water. Flor's torts were perfectly round and uniform in thickness, mine were a little less and thicker and Marina's, well they...let's say she needed more practice! Pretty tasty, yet kinda bland. We asked if they ever added spices but "no" was the answer. A little salt, cumin and ? would do alot.
Upon returning w/ Flor's list all checked off, she tried to pay us for our trip, we declined, naturally. We did ask if they would show us how to make homemade tortillas and had a lesson at 6pm. Lard being a key ingredient was expected, but not so. Mis-nomer on our part, they just added water. Flor's torts were perfectly round and uniform in thickness, mine were a little less and thicker and Marina's, well they...let's say she needed more practice! Pretty tasty, yet kinda bland. We asked if they ever added spices but "no" was the answer. A little salt, cumin and ? would do alot.
Following day we were reading up on the veranda and we heard Steven skipping along and soon "Hoy!"(Steven's favaourite salute) and "Hola, buenos tardes!" from Flor, so we slip some clothes on and open the door to smiling faces and a plate perched atop Flor's high slung palm, all she was lacking was a black and white uniform. Stacked three inches tall and individually wrapped in paper towels w/ a small side bag of "salsa", she said, but not picante like we would think, just a tomato sauce. This offering was the result of a "Papusa" conversation during our tortilla lesson and due to my lack of never having a papusa. They whipped some up, were dropped off w/ smiles and an great lesson of giving for Steven, then wandered back up the hill. We went up to the kitchen counter like two little kids that just raided the cookie jar and knew they were not going to get in trouble once all was devoured. I unwrapped and Marina poured the sauce into a cup, thence our savoury delight began. Shredded pork, diced green chilis and a trace of cheese all rippled amongst the yummy tortilla recipe we learned the day prior. Not too greasy, but it could be seen and you knew daily consumption of such greatness creates large bellies over sixty years. They brought four and I ate two and a half, Marina quit due to the richness of it all, I just wanted more!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
More excitement...
...just not to us, this time. Our closest true neighbors up the hill--Diana and her son, her mother Isabet and her husband(can't remember). Well 5 days ago "husband" decided to take Casinova, the dog for a walk, along the road, past their place and crossed paths with a Brahma Bull, the bull began scratching at the ground and proceeded to charge. One of the horns nearly pierced his left rib/waist area while completely sending him airborne, in rodeo fashion, off the side of the road and down the hill side. Poor guy is laid up and bruised head to toe-- eating, reading, watching tv and sniffling for more food and drink.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Natures bounty...
...some of it brings me shivers!
yeap, those are all little babies!
Little baby Scorpions!
Little baby Scorpions!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Upon Arrival
Been a week now, as me hammock sway, breeze blow and Monkey howl. Hot one this day, 94 en casa!
First example of crazy ways--on the way to our house one will pass a well pump house, thence a small house just past ours, then a larger one and finally up to Ranco Brovilla. Which is a fading away hotel/restaurant/rental house. By fading i mean the pool, empty and dry, pinto de gallo is breakfast and steak is supper. That's it! Well a santa claus lookin Hungarian has owned this stretch of land since, this now regraded Forest Service type road wuz an old rutted Ox wagon trail and no one wondered if Pacific Ridley Sea Turtle for breakfast, for all Costa Rica families, would affect Turtle population, long term? This mans name is Szabo and even after all his years here, no mercy is shown. A well pump is a well pump and two have been stolen in the past year. Ballsy huh! We have gladly paid $30/month for water, not anymore. Szabo wants $60/month. Talk about over a barrel w/o any lube. "What a bastard!", was my reaction and Marina says, "What are we gunna do dig a well?" So we chew on that topic for abit, then, Marina says, "Angie (Szabo's wife) said Szabo has stomach cancer." Well damn. That will knock a guy back a bit. So then me thoughts changed to "Oh, that poor bastard!" In some strange way you actually want to pay he and Angie $60/month.?
Besides that--a Honda 250 ATV is our only transport, pineapples are still my favourite, smoothies for breakfast, frisbee on the beach, Marina sleeps 10-12 hours daily and a wave at high tide turned some dull S.I. joint pain into, excrutiating, "Holy fuck i need to kneel down right fucking now!!!", pain. Wow! That was not the way to begin February, but it is what it is. For months this adventure held anticipation of feeding our bodies better and healing mine to a better position. That wave was similar to a dragon picking "the slayer" up w/ his tail and thwaping him down as a play toy. Well that's enough wincing.
Fried plantains, yummy-yummy-yummy
Member...waves and cancer will change ones course. Make yours "true", prior the change!
First example of crazy ways--on the way to our house one will pass a well pump house, thence a small house just past ours, then a larger one and finally up to Ranco Brovilla. Which is a fading away hotel/restaurant/rental house. By fading i mean the pool, empty and dry, pinto de gallo is breakfast and steak is supper. That's it! Well a santa claus lookin Hungarian has owned this stretch of land since, this now regraded Forest Service type road wuz an old rutted Ox wagon trail and no one wondered if Pacific Ridley Sea Turtle for breakfast, for all Costa Rica families, would affect Turtle population, long term? This mans name is Szabo and even after all his years here, no mercy is shown. A well pump is a well pump and two have been stolen in the past year. Ballsy huh! We have gladly paid $30/month for water, not anymore. Szabo wants $60/month. Talk about over a barrel w/o any lube. "What a bastard!", was my reaction and Marina says, "What are we gunna do dig a well?" So we chew on that topic for abit, then, Marina says, "Angie (Szabo's wife) said Szabo has stomach cancer." Well damn. That will knock a guy back a bit. So then me thoughts changed to "Oh, that poor bastard!" In some strange way you actually want to pay he and Angie $60/month.?
Besides that--a Honda 250 ATV is our only transport, pineapples are still my favourite, smoothies for breakfast, frisbee on the beach, Marina sleeps 10-12 hours daily and a wave at high tide turned some dull S.I. joint pain into, excrutiating, "Holy fuck i need to kneel down right fucking now!!!", pain. Wow! That was not the way to begin February, but it is what it is. For months this adventure held anticipation of feeding our bodies better and healing mine to a better position. That wave was similar to a dragon picking "the slayer" up w/ his tail and thwaping him down as a play toy. Well that's enough wincing.
Fried plantains, yummy-yummy-yummy
Member...waves and cancer will change ones course. Make yours "true", prior the change!
Scorpions glowing in the dark? i read it and saw photos online, but this is the real deal. taken by me via a small UV flashlite and a camera off course!
Watch out it's Sunday, the beach should get crowded at any moment. ya right!
Watch out it's Sunday, the beach should get crowded at any moment. ya right!
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