One thing everyone in my family can agree on is that we love the tropics.  However, I’m pretty sure that I love them more than everyone else.  Whenever someone suggests something like, “Our next trip should be to Italy” or “Let’s go see the Louvre,” or even, “I think Spain sounds fun,”  I say, “Nah…I’d rather go swimming.”  Clear warm waters and tropical plants are unmatched by anything society has to offer.

We took a trip to Costa Rica in 2005.  Our flight was altered due to fog covering the runway in San José, so we headed south to Panama City.  The airline booked us into the Continental Hotel at around 11:30 p.m.  It was a smoking hotel and I found myself hacking every few minutes.

The next day we flew back into San José and took a private bus to the coastal town of Manuel Antonio.  Our bus driver, Jerry, was very tolerant of the 5 noisy kids in his vehicle and even let us eat lychee fruits in the back seats.  As I recall, we sang at a deafening volume for close to 5 hours.

The house we stayed in was in the jungle, but just a short 4 minute walk to the beach.  When I stepped outside it was foggy and cool but the sky was beautiful, serene.

There was the beautiful little delta tucked back in a canopy of mangroves.  Salty-fresh water spilled from the spring, out onto the sand and flowed into the ocean.  We called it the Otter Pool for no particular reason.  One day a couple came down and told us there were crocodiles that lived in pool.  Laughing it off, we paid no attention.  But then a second couple warned us.  “See that hotel up there?” They asked, pointing to the tiny cottage perched up on the hill above the mangroves.  “There used to be a sign that said “Crocodiles Beware, but they took it down because it was bad for business.  The crocodile that lives here is a female and she ate a dog the size of your little ones three days ago.”  We never swam in the little spring again, refusing to even go near it.  It was renamed “The Croc Pot.”

The jungle where we stayed was absolutely beautiful.  Dazzling, exotic, and lush, there were many strange and lovely flowers and plants all around.  A small flight of wooden stairs had been built into the moderate incline leading up to the house.  Light filtered in through the trees, dappling the floor with misty, soft brightness.  It was also rich in animal life.  As you walked you could see the small spider monkeys swinging from branch to branch, Capuchins scurrying up and down trees, and hear the howler monkeyswailing from far away.  One day I found a little green coconut and brought it home and took it in the shower with me.  I began to rub the saltwater out of my hair when I felt something rough and hard.  A spider the size of a mini hamburger fell from my head onto the shower drain.  Screaming, I smashed it with my coconut and took my shower at the other end of the house.  Later I would come back to find ants feeding on the remains and clogging up the drain.  Oops…

There was also this iguana that liked to sun himself on our patio.  Half of us wanted to name him Ed and the other half went for Jerry, after the bus driver.  Either way “Jed” was a frequent visitor and all of the kids would come outside to watch him an hour after lunchtime.

And then there was the monkey, Ridley, who ate lunch with us.  Rather, we fed him lunch.  Neil, my friend’s father, gave him a banana and after that he would just chill in the tree on or the rail next to our table.  He looked like one of those stuffed animals with velcro hands you can hang around your neck.  I really wanted to touch his tail.

There were plenty of coconut palms on the beach near our house.  Neil managed to find a machete and brought it down one day.  He went coconut hunting and found three really ripe ones.  I went to Tavarua, a surf island in Fuji, when I was three and ate a coconut there.  But I really don’t remember what it tasted like.  And after that I had always eaten the store-bought coconuts and they were good.  But he cracked one open and I had my first real coconut since Tavarua and it was DELICIOUS.

We went hiking deep back in rainforest of Manuel Antonio.  The jungle was thick and wild, teeming with life, and untamed. Enormous trees touched the sky and blood-red dirt, closer to mud, covered the forest floor.  There were strange plants and even stranger animals.  Our guide showed us a green poison dart frog, something he called a “fried egg lizard” and the “Oh my Gosh” bridge.  It’s called the “Oh my Gosh” bridge because that’s what people say when the see it.  Approximately 210 feet long, it stretches over a jagged crevice, whose throat is lined with stalagmite-like rocks protruding from a roaring river of muddy brown water.  The thick steel cables and nylon ropes were green with moss and the wooden planks were moist and soft with rain.  Needless to say, the adults were scared.  The kids simply ran across, jumping up and down as we went.

One more I have to share with you.  It’s my personal favorite: