I Never Wanted To Do Yoga
My four-year-old is up in the middle of the night for the fifth night. She climbs into our bed, arranges herself into a comfortable position, shoves me into a spot that suits her, kicks my kidneys, and finally settles in to pick the mole on my neck. I can’t sleep.
Dimming the screen, I scroll through pictures of my birthday weekend spent in Ubud, eating and drinking, and Tampaksiring celebrating Nyepi. They are happy photos, everyone smiling, but mine is strained. I’m sick again. I’ve been sick or hurt most of our three months in Bali. My children don’t sleep well. I don’t sleep well. I have stomach issues. Female problems. Colds, heat rashes, more stomach issues. I look like a sweaty, bloated, greasy, frumpy, older version of my former self, and I don’t like it. I’m not healthy.
I have just turned forty-six, have young children, and need to make a change. But starting a new workout regime takes a bit more thought than in my twenties and thirties when I would feel sluggish or party too hard and then go for a twenty-mile run in the morning. My back aches, my knees creak, and I slouch so bad my boobs almost rest in my lap, poor girls.
Yoga is suggested. I don’t like Yoga. My only actual reason for this beyond the imagined smug, enlightened, and svelte practitioners I’m sure to encounter is the one class I took in upstate Maine twenty years ago, which touted itself as “for all levels” and then tried to make me do a headstand in the first session. It didn’t go well, and I may have taken out a few people in my row.
But, for whatever reason, at 4am on a Tuesday, with tiny toes burrowing into my stomach and a sharp fingernail determined to remove that mole from my neck, I decide Yoga is for me. I announce my plan to my husband, purchase the twenty-session pack, and let delusions of grandeur carry forth an image of myself in six months smug, enlightened, and if not svelte, at least fitting into the suitcase of clothes I brought that are all too tight now.
I’m one minute late to the first class, sweat pouring down my face as I’ve run the two kilometers in flip flops, having woken late after the 2 am dance party with my daughter. I attempt to follow all the moves but can’t see well through the salt water streaming into my gritty eyes. The Yoga instructor attempts a few corrections to my form then, defeated, ignores me, thank goodness.
I know none of the terminologies and can’t follow his heavy accent. I’m guided by the grandmother in front of me, twisting herself impressively as I shake and fall over. I can’t focus as ants tickle my skin. That is not a metaphor. An hour and a half of steamy hell later, the instructor rings the gong, hums deep in his chest, and the class is over. In front of everyone, he asks if it’s my first class; they all smugly and, somehow sveltely, chortle. In my haste to hydrate, I smack my lip on my water bottle, and now I’m bleeding.
I’ve got nineteen classes to go on my punch card. They say do Yoga for a month, and you’ll never stop. I’m not giving up. Mostly because I don’t want to see the look on my husband’s face if I do, but we all need our own inner motivation. It will get better. I will bet better. It has to get better. Right?
Namaste.
The Palm Trees ARE greener on the other side…
This will be a quick-ish one.
I’ve been slacking. To recap—after Costa Rica, our quick Christmas visit home to Gig Harbor became a three-month restructure of our business, then extended into a year. On January 12th, 2023, business solid, my husband, myself, and our two girls packed our too many belongings and arrived in Bali, Indonesia.
For almost a decade, we’ve planned to slow-travel the world, spending six months to a year in each country, learning along the way. When we finally left, I doubt most of our family or friends believed it would happen or agreed with our choice. We get it. We were taking our girls to a faraway land few had been to. There were a few well-intentioned comments about the girl’s education, safety, and suggestions that perhaps we were running away to an island where we would find the same problems only with palm trees.
Currently, our home country is not where we want to be or raise our girls. I won’t go into the reasons in this post, but here is the thing—despite everything horrifying in the news, family differences, and outrageous living costs in the US, we didn’t realize until we arrived in Bali that one of the biggest things we were missing/craving/seeking in our daily lives was kindness.
The Balinese people are incredibly kind. Not just when something goes wrong or someone is hurt or in trouble, but every day, in all things. It’s part of their being. Some expats will grumble, stating ulterior motives or that they know one guy…I don’t care. Everyone worldwide has crap going on or reasons for acting a certain way. They could choose kindness to achieve it, but most don’t. The Balinese do, and it’s wonderful. Yes, I’d be more likely to buy from you if you’re kind. We appreciate it every day. Servers at restaurants, government officials, taxi drivers, the pushy ladies on the beach trying to exfoliate the top three layers of your skin with a beach massage—all act with kindness.
Of course, Bali has its problems, but I’ll take these problems any day with the kindness, and palm trees, that come with it.
I promise more about our journey—hospital visits, gorgeous food, kitty adoption, scam artist stories, and more pictures than you can probably stomach soon.
Are Writing Conferences Worth it?
Short answer, yes. But only if, and it’s a big IF, you take the time to plan on how to get the most out of the panels, classes, connections, meet and greets, ask the agents, pitch opportunities, and if you can honestly afford it.
I am a newbie to the writing conference scene but knew from food/catering events a little bit of what to expect. Or thought I did. The food business is incredibly competitive, and in my twenty-five years immersed in it, I rarely found the support, cheerleading, and mentorship offered to writers. It gives me a warm fuzzy.
In July, I attended my first writer’s conference, the Cascade Writers Workshop in Bremerton, and have since learned how unique it is. First, what a thrill to get my lanyard with my name and “writer” on it. Plus swag! We were greeted with logoed tote bags filled with a hardback journal, two novels, stickers, a pen, breath mints, a granola bar, and a coupon for a free coffee. Heck ya.
Before arriving, we were required to submit the first 4000 words of whatever we were working on to a group with similar genres. Everyone in the group read and critiqued each other’s work. At the conference, in between classes, we met with our group three times to read the critiques aloud, discuss the writing, and offer suggestions—nerve wracking but incredibly helpful.
Despite it being on the small side, with around fifty participants, they brought in a wealth of editors, publishers, and successful authors. Agent Laurie McLean with Fuse literary taught a class on how to pitch to her, and then we did. If you’ve never done one of these pitch fests before, well, that will be a topic for another day, but you have about sixty seconds to summarize your story, followed by a few minutes of questions before you’re tactfully booted from the agent’s sight.
From 8am to 6pm, a full schedule of classes and panels were offered, usually two at the same time, but they simplified choices by focusing each one on traditional or indie publishing. If you’ve ever shopped conferences and workshops, you’ll know they don’t come cheap, so the price was definitely a draw for me at only $275.
Participants were invited to join members for meals at local restaurants (amazing cheese and pork pupusas at El Balcon!), a karaoke night out, and a book signing/book sale/beer tasting put on by the fantastically curated local bookshop, Ballast Books. I met the funny and charming author of Legends and Lattes, Travis Baldree, and after rolling his twenty-sided D&D dice, won a coffee mug featuring his heroines. Adorable.
This past weekend I attended the PNWA Writers Conference in Renton, WA, held at the lovely brick and glass lakefront Hyatt Hotel. A bit pricier at $425, it included four agent pitches, a three-course dinner, and an absolutely delicious brunch. Hundreds attended multiple classes/panels available from 8am to 11pm, forcing us to choose from three or four options. Researching speakers pre-conference helped as not all were created equal, and I was guilty of sneaking out of a few dozers.
The hero of the weekend was Damon Suede. He was incredible. Like seeing your favorite stand-up comedian teach a gut-busting, standing-room-only, speed-induced, lightning-fast writing class. I would pay to see him on stage. He offered several workshops ranging from villains to tropes to branding yourself. If you ever have the chance to experience the shock and awe that is this man, mortgage whatever you have to; just make it happen. #damonsuede @damonsuede
The fact that the hotel sits on Lake Washington and the weather was gorgeous, and had a huge outside bar to slate a writer’s thirst, channeling one’s inner Hemingway didn’t hurt either.
The moral of this tale is if you can truly afford it, are willing to learn and absorb all you can, and put yourself out there to meet amazing people in the industry, it is worth it.
Course, if you just want to sit on that gorgeous deck drinking Singapore slings, no judgment here. I’ll be there in five.
Blackberry Bacon Chicken
As an homage to my childhood and the time I climbed atop a bike leaned against a vicious blackberry bush to reach the “biggest berries ever,” falling in where my butt-length hair tangled in the spider-infested prickers and trapped me for two hours, I give you my favorite late summer recipe.
I adapted this dish from an earlier, time-consuming-but-delicious recipe, Chicken with Grilled Peaches. The peaches were lovely, but honestly, a pain in the butt to cut, season, grill, unstick from the grill, and then only use the pretty ones. Having said that, this recipe adapts to lots of different fruit—mixed berries, plums, apricots, and even ungrilled peaches. Here in Washington state, we have the luxury of wild blackberries everywhere. EVERYWHERE. You’ll never find blackberries in the store like the bloated, juicy, too-soft-to-transport beauties growing on the deathly vines sprawled in vacant parking lots, unattended back yards, and lining every road from August to September.
Usually, I give exacting details on amounts, which I find comforting and necessary to be successful with most recipes, but this one is different. You can adjust for how many you’re feeding, and leftovers are great tossed with a few greens for a next day salad. It’s a great “refrigerator” recipe, using up whatever you have on hand. You could even use pork, tofu, or salmon instead of chicken…just no spiders, please and thanks.
Blackberry Bacon Chicken Serves 4 Preptime – Quick!
- 4 Chicken breasts or 4 hindquarters on the bone (or 2 pounds pork or salmon)
- Seasonings – Optional – Thyme, rosemary, oregano, garlic powder, pepper
- 1 Tbl Sea salt
- 2 Tbl Olive Oil
- 1 lb Blackberries (wild and freshly picked, if possible)
- 8 pc Bacon
- 1 Btl Balsamic glaze (store bought is easiest or feel free to make your own)
- 2 Tbl Parsley, chopped (optional for color and health)
Directions
- Place bacon flat on a parchment lined baking sheet and bake on 400F until crispy. Times with vary depending on thickness, but it’s bacon, it’s all good.
- Once finished removed from fat onto a paper towel lined plate and set aside.
- Season chicken with whatever seasonings you chose plus salt and oil.
- You can pan sauté, bake, or grill the chicken until done. Please don’t overcook! Chicken breasts cook through in about 10 minutes in a 425F oven. Leg quarters in about 15 minutes.
- Let cooked chicken rest about 15 minutes before serving. Either serve whole on a platter or plated. Top chicken with blackberries, crumbled bacon (literally just crumble over the top with your hand), and drizzle with balsamic glaze.
- Garnish with chopped parsley
- Dish up trying to score as much bacon and blackberries for yourself (or guest of honor if you’re nice).
Fun Activities To Do with Kids in Gig Harbor
Gig Harbor is a gorgeous seaside town less than an hour outside Seattle. It’s safe, clean, filled with fantastic restaurants and breweries, and sparkles in the sunshine with Mount Rainier as a backdrop, but it can be tricky keeping the littles entertained. After seven years of calling Gig Harbor home, below is our go to list of kid approved activities.
- Playgrounds
Crescent Creek Park 3303 Vernhardson St. This lovely park is surrounded by trees and sits next to its namesake creek but has a barrier. It has a large climbing boat, swings, and sand pit, all built on soft rubber ground. There is a covered shelter, bathrooms, and a large field for running, soccer, and picnics.
Sehmel Homestead Park 10123 78th Ave NW. As per the name, this massive park was built on the a settler family’s homestead. There are several, baseball and soccer fields, tennis courts, basketball courts, workout equipment, miles of wooded walking trails, multiple bathrooms, and a large softplay playground.
Kenneth Leo Marvin Veterans Memorial Park 3580 50th St. Ct. This cute little park has a large climbing structure, covered picnic building, bathrooms, and ball field.
Gateway Park. 10405 WA-302 Just across the Purdy spit, about 10 minutes from downtown, is a large playground and splash pad alongside a large, covered picnic shelter, ballfields, and miles of forested walking, biking, and horseback riding trails.
2. Gig Harbor Waterfront Always a winner with our kids, the waterfront runs from the southernmost end of Harborview drive around the harbor and is lined with multiple parks, piers, restaurants, breweries, bakeries, art galleries, a history museum, and many, many shops. Explore the many piers, walk past a parade of boats to the end and glimpse a world of sea anemones, mussels, and fish. Visit Suzanne’s bakery for cafe vita coffee and seasonal hand pies, cakes, croissants, and egg sandwiches. Their pink cookies are my girl’s favorite. In the summer, the gazebo at Skansie park hosts live music, movie nights, multiple festivals, and a Thursday afternoon farmer’s market. Here are some of our favorites:
Suzanne’s Bakery 3411 Harborview Drive They have seating inside, but we prefer the lovely grapevine shaded patio. Great spot to pick up breakfast or create a picnic lunch to go.
Gig Harbor History Museum 4121 Harborview Drive. This small museum houses a wonderful collection of indigenous art and artifacts, local fishing history, and rotating art. In the back of the building is a turn of the century schoolhouse you can enter and join classroom life from the late 1800s.
The Harbor General Store 7804 Pioneer Way. Take a step back in history in this adorable store/cafe/ice cream shop. Great for breakfast, lunch, picnic supplies, souvenirs, or ice cream.
7 Seas Brewery 2905 Harborview Drive. A fantastic brewery located right on the water. Bonus – Kids welcome! Sit outside on the covered deck and watch the boats sail by while sipping on their many microbrews. They also serve wine, cider, and interesting non-alcoholic drinks. They don’t serve any food, so it’s encouraged to bring your own. Best of all, each sitting area has its own fire pit.
The Gourmet Burger Shop. 4120 Harborview Drive. Across the street from the museum, this burger shop is the best. Everything is made in house, including their impossibly thin fries tossed with rosemary and whole garlic cloves. Finish the meal with their awesome milkshakes. Serves beer and wine. Limited inside and outside seating, but Donkey Creek Park across the street also has picnic tables.
Skansie Park 3211 Harborview Drive Large waterfront grassy lawn in the heart of downtown. Besides the features listed above, it also boasts large clean bathrooms, picnic tables with views of the harbor, and the Skansie House. This settler home has been turned into a small museum with hands-on activities for kids, including kinetic sand, fish tanks, skeletons, microscopes, and live images of life under the water in the harbor.
3. Uptown Gig Harbor. Take the Olympic exit, head west, and you’ll enter Uptown Gig Harbor. Here you’ll find everything you need set on tree and flower-lined streets—multiple grocery stores, movie theater, toy store, Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, nail salons, clothing stores, banks, Starbucks, hospitals, and lots of restaurants from sushi, pizza, and burgers to Mexican and Thai; there is something for everyone. Our kids have fun walking the store lined lanes near the movie theater, splashing in the water fountain, visiting the fake cows, and of course, visiting the awesome learning toy store. Ocean Five is a newer complex boasting restaurants, bowling, laser tag, and an arcade.
4. Beaches. There are few beaches for a community built on the water, but there are a few.
Eddon Boat Park. 3805 Harborview Drive. A nice little beach a short walk from the waterfront, this 3 acre spot just got a facelift in the summer of 2022. It has a grassy hill great for running and rolling down (just watch for goose poop), a 100ft sandy/rocky beach, and some statues of mollusks.
Tacoma Narrows Park. 1502 Lucille Pkwy NW. This miles long sandy/rocky beach boasts a glorious view of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, Straight of Puget Sound, and MT Rainier. A gorgeous beach for picnics, beach combing, wildlife spotting, walking, and kite flying.
Sunrise Beach. 10015 Sunrise Beach Drive NW. Quite a walk from the parking area to the beach, but it is lovely once you arrive—rope swings, tide pools, and gorgeous driftwood make it a fun and pretty beach for kids to explore.
Best Restaurants Playa del Coco
For the last three months, I ate my way through most of the eateries in Playa del Coco to write you a legit list of its best restaurants. It was tough, but I persevered. Food tastes are always subjective, so we tried to eat at each place a couple times to account for “off” days and consistency. In the end, though, these sorts of lists are always about personal preference.
We stayed five minutes down the road from the main drag in the Las Palmas neighborhood. This area has two lovely courtyards on either side of the street with massage and nail salons, a coffee shop, a grocery store, and many restaurants. If you’re staying closer to town, make sure to head over for the best Italian, best steak, best coffee shops, and best waffles in all of Coco!
Juls House— Las Palmas. We ate at Juls A LOT. Consistently good food and the best Tico or local plate we had, a fantastic house-made passion fruit vinaigrette on their salads, huge wine pours, best hamburger and the best ribeye steak we had in all of Costa Rica for only $15.
Java Coffee— Las Palmas. 99% of every word I wrote in Costa Rica was at a table in the courtyard of this beautiful place. Fresh fruit smoothies, excellent coffee, bagel breakfast sandwiches, and the best waffles I’ve ever had. Don’t forget to try the chunky monkey milkshake—one of the many reasons my shorts don’t fit anymore. They also have a lovely little book trade library inside.
La Dolce Vita— Las Palmas. Closed on Wednesdays. One of the best Italian restaurants I’ve ever been to. The service is exceptional, beef carpaccio is amazing, and if you ate nothing else but their truffle mushroom pasta for seven days it would be a happy week. Skip the lasagna. Oddly, also the best mojitos served in copper mugs!
Guayoyo Coffee— On the road from the main drag to Las Palmas. This one was a surprise. Set back in an unassuming little strip mall-like building, Goyoyo blew us away. They are open for breakfast and lunch and have the best latte, incredible in-house baked goods (try the red velvet cupcakes), and fantastic food. An interesting mix of Costa Rican and Venezulean, they make cachapas, a thin, slightly sweet, corn crepe stuffed with a variety of fillings like braised smoked chicken, cheese, and avocado and topped with a fried egg. So good. Their arepas are the best we had, and they have a great selection of vegetarian and vegan items.
Santorini— Greek restaurant on the main drag/rd 151. The main street in Playa del Coco is full of many touristy restaurants, all serving similar menus of similar quality. Santorini stands out not only for its soothing and beautifully decorated open-air dining room but for its fresh, quality, amply filled menu. The pork souvlaki melts in your mouth, the seafood is caught fresh each morning and expertly prepared, and the house-made sangrias are fantastic.
Nikkei – Main road, accross from Auto Mercado. Great sushi, great asian inspired dishes utilizing local ingredients. The braised pork belly melts in your mouth and their ceviche with passionfruit was the best we had.
Cafe de Playa Restaurant – Down the beach, 1 minutes past Las Palmas is this gorgeous beach front, toes in the sand, semi-fine dining restaurant serving some of the best seafood we had the whole trip.
And to simplify things here is my best of list:
Best Coffee – Java Coffee and Guayoyo
Best Breakfast – Guayoyo Coffee Shop
Best Steak, Best Local Tico Plate – Juls House, see above
Best Italian, Best Mojitos – La Dolce Vita
Best Pina Coloda – Zi Lounge, main drag
Best Empanadas –Don’t know the name! Fried chicken place on the side of the road, main street in town, near the Auto Mercato.
Best Local IPAs – Numu, main drag, across of the Auto Mercado grocery store
Best Whole Grilled Fish – Cafe de Playa
Best Fried Fish – If you end up at any one of the many places on the main drag through town, ordering whole fried snapper is almost always a win.
Street Skewers – In the main square in front of the beach and along the main road, you’ll find a number of meat skewer stands. We tried almost all of them, and they were all delicious and a great cheap eat!
As I said, these were our favorites. If you have a wonderful meal at a restaurant not listed, please tell me about it. We love to spread the love!
Mosquitos Ate My Baby
Adventures continue in our family’s health department. Last week, we rented a car and spent a wonderful day visiting Conchal beach, famous for its pink crushed shells and vendors selling pineapples filled with pina Coladas, and Tamarindo, a lovely and upscale surf village. On day two, we made a quick stop at a coffee farm on route to an eco-park. Sophia began to complain of a stomachache. I was holding her while waiting for an iced coffee when a terrible noise rumbled up her little body, her mask ballooned, and she spewed her entire breakfast down the both of us and into our sandals. The lovely, grandmotherly hostess making our drinks casually glanced over her shoulder, saw the massive puddle on her clean floor and our distress, shrugged, and continued making coffee.
Things quickly escalated. Her fever started to rise. Sev complained of a sore throat. Sophia became listless. We canceled our plans and headed home, stopping at a Farmacia on the way for supplies. Over the next couple of hours, red spots that looked like bug bites appeared all over Sophia. Sev got a temperature. Both girls were miserable. We applied cool washcloths and baby Tylenol.
I took pictures of Sophia’s spots to the Farmacia by our house (where everyone goes first for bites), and they confirmed they were sand fleas, also called noseeums, and we should use calamine and Benedryl, and everything would be fine. We did. Her fever went down, but by the following day, Sev’s had not. We went to our trusty medical clinic, where the doctor confirmed she had a virus but couldn’t find a thermometer to take her temperature. He said we needed Covid tests. Trying not to panic, we did and went home to continue the cool cloths, Tylenol and to discuss quarantine options.
The tests came back negative, praise be, and Sev felt better, so we figured it was all just a little cold. Sophia’s spots continued to spread, but she was in good spirits. We avoided the beach and continued the calamine. On day two, when she began to scratch so bad she couldn’t sleep at night, we took her to a different Farmacia to get a second opinion. They said they were not sand flea bites, gave me a phone number, and said to call the doctor immediately. The doctor and nurse were at our house in two hours. Two hours for a house call!
He confirmed they were not bug bites, well, not the little ones. She must have been bit by a mosquito carrying a virus. In a mix of English and Spanish, he threw out the words Sika and Dengue, and Tim and I began to panic again. He examined both girls. It turns out it was a one-two punch of virus and bacterial infection from Sophia scratching the bites then other parts of her body. Sev had gotten it too. We were prescribed antibiotics, antihistamines, two kinds of topical cream, and as much naked ocean time as the girls could get. Unfortunately, the doctor said we had unwittingly slowed down the healing process by avoiding the ocean.
We have tried about every bug/mosquito repellent they sell here by now. All except the Off Deep Woods are deet free and work basically the same. You have to reapply about every two hours and if you miss a scrap of skin the discerning local biters will find it. We use Off only when going into the jungle as the threat of Zika, Dengue, and whatever else seem much more imminent than possible seizures and neuron disruptment.
The girls feel much better now, sleeping through the night (kinda), and back to their usual high-energy selves. The doctor has checked in every day by text and we have only good news to report. Lesson learned? I’m not quite sure. We did what we were told to do, trust the pharmacist and only go to the clinic for breaks, stitches, covid tests, etc.… but that didn’t turn out so well. I guess trust your gut and keep asking if things don’t feel right? I don’t know. I’m fried on sleepless nights, adrenaline, and intrusive thoughts featuring all the what-ifs.
Time for a grilled pineapple mojito. Or three.
Emergency! Kind Of. Not Really.
Sophia hurt herself. Again.
Many of you know we ended up in the hospital one week before our big Costa Rica trip with Sophia’s forehead split open. It was an awful experience. Eight hours in an overcrowded waiting room with her bleeding, crying, not able to see from the congealed blood in her eyes, and no one helping us. I cradled her with a dirty paper towel pressed to her wound, afraid to remove it and see how bad the damage was. It took four hours for someone to offer me a sterile pad. When we were finally brought to a room, we sat for another two hours before a nurse came in. I won’t say her bedside manner was terrible, just hurried and brusk. She informed me they had an emergency room full of Covid patients to deal with, and my already panicked brain and adrenaline fatigued body seriously considered leaving. Another traumatic two hours later, we went home with her head stitched up and a vow to keep her in a padded room until she was twenty-five. Welcome to US healthcare.
Jump forward two months. We released the hounds from their padded cells and let them loose to run and be free. Of course, my daughter was going to get hurt. She’s three. That’s her job. My job is to fret on the inside but pretend like I’m a cool mom who knows she needs to fall down and get up and learn by doing. So she smacked her hand on a brick wall and refused to move it for two hours. She doesn’t refuse to move anything on her little body for more than five seconds, so we knew something was wrong. The only other time she refused to move something was when she dislocated her elbow.
We hesitated. We are in a small beach town in rural Costa Rica. We had been told the clinic was good. Still, I had flashbacks of our previous experience and not having a good grasp on the Spanish language, hell or the English language most of the time, wasn’t sure I could communicate effectively. Finally, her tears won out.
The clinic is down a long, bumpy, gravel road rutted by large potholes filled with muddy water. I can’t imagine how the ambulances manage. For some reason, this was not reassuring. We entered a pristine and empty lobby and were immediately greeted by a gorgeous triage nurse. She was even smiling. She looked like she could have a starring role in a medical drama. We were checked in, seated comfortably on a stylish white leather couch, and offered water within five minutes. Only three minutes later, we were brought back to the x-ray room by another smiling nurse. Thirty minutes after arriving, we were back in the lobby—X-rays taken, consultation with the doctor completed, and course of action laid out.
I was stunned. Amazed. Tearfully appreciative. Back home, without health insurance, this little outing could have cost hundreds of dollars, if not over a thousand. At this clinic in lovley Costa Rica? Sixty. Sixty dollars and thirty minutes of our day. The only person disappointed with the whole adventure was Sophia. Her hand was not broken, just badly bruised, and she didn’t feel the doctor did enough to make it all better. She abused him the whole drive home.
The girls are now free to jump, climb, and bang their extremities to their heart’s content. We have every confidence in our little clinic and the gorgeous superheroes who work there. US healthcare—take notes.
And because I don’t have any other pictures of the experience, here is a video of monkeys we saw at breakfast.
Diamanté Adventure Park
Worldschooling works best when you slow travel, stay in one place long enough to live like a local, or at least a local expat, and get a feel for the country you’re in, the culture, and its rhythms. Plus, it’s cheaper. When you only have a week to see a place, you’re more likely to try and stuff as much in as possible, eat out constantly, and push a more punishing schedule. So, our motto for Costa Rica was to “live” here for three months and not act like we were on vacation.
Having said all that, we still wanted to experience a few of the top excursions in the country. Diamante Adventure Park came highly recommended by so many travelers and locals; it was first on our list. Man oh man, did it deliver!
Our excitement was real as we approached the Jurassic Park like entrance and drove up the long, steep hillside to the lodge.
Overlooking the vast park and blue Matapalo Bay, the lodge offers a delicious lunch featuring local dishes – black beans and rice, salad with passionfruit vinaigrette, braised pork, roasted vegetables, and caramelized plantains. You can just make out the ziplines past the balcony.
The well rounded matron of the buffet loaded our plates for us, ignoring my protests that it was too much, piling on more food than we could possibly eat. Actually, it was delicious, the plantains were caramelized sticky perfection, and we ate every bite.
Diamante is a famous adrenaline junkie’s paradise with jungle ATV tours, horseback riding, and five different ziplines, including Superman, the longest and highest in the country, but with our little ones in tow, we opted for the cultural pass instead.
After our ample lunch, we waddled out to the huge open-air passenger jeep and drove to the beginning of the botanical trail. After being attacked by a gang of mosquitos, we did a brisk walk past yuca, plantains, dozens of medicinal plants, cocoa trees, and sugar cane, ending at a traditional Puebla.
Jorge greeted us with a twelve-foot sugar cane then demonstrated how to juice it through a traditional hand-crank press. The girls loved it, and we all enjoyed shots of the delicious, not overly sweet liquid that was the original energy drink of the Ticos.
Jorge then went through the process of harvesting and roasting cocoa beans. We helped grind, tasting the different stages from gritty and bitter to smooth—but still bitter. He boiled unrefined sugar down to a thick brown mass, hardened it, then grated it, making scratch hot chocolate with a subtle earthy caramel flavor. So good. As was the coffee he prepared next, brewing it in a traditional wooden stand with a cloth liner. He was charming and funny and even kept the girls captivated for almost an hour.
Next up was the animal sanctuary, the largest in Costa Rica. We wandered through the beautifully landscaped grounds for two hours, oohing over sloths, butterflies, gigantic beetles, snakes, birds, crocodiles, monkeys, and jungle cats. Many of the animals were in open enclosures (oxymoron?) and were just as curious with us in the close proximity. The jaguar seemed to stalk the girls for a bit. Did it bother me? Nah. Did I pull them back from what I’m sure was incredibly strong protective glass when it yawned, exposing its dainty teeth? Yup.
Fifteen minutes before closing, Tim and I acquired a couple of chilled beers and kicked our feet up while the girls climbed, swung, and crawled through the jungle obstacle course, emulating all the animals in the park.
It was a great afternoon and well worth the price of about $200 for the four of us with lunch. We’ve promised Sev we’ll go back when our little adrenaline girl is big enough to do the Superman.
Sunshine Dunning 