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Published: November 29th 2010
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We left Moneverde for La Fortuna, a small town next to Arenal Volcano, reputedly the second most active volcano in the world. Rather than taking the 11 hour bus ride to LA Fortuna we opted for the increasingly popular jeep-boat-jeep transfer. The jeep was actually a mini-van that was driven by a guy who really wanted to believe that his mum's gutless, people carrier was in fact a hill grinding Freelander, such was the idiocy and impotency of his driving. However, the boat ride and second segment of the trip was nice and easy.
The Arenal volcano is like a model of a volcano. It looks exactly like you would imagine a volcano to look. All except, there's no lava. One of the most active volcanoes in the world is as quiet as a door mouse during a Whisker's advert. Still, the view, especially from Lake Arenal is lovely. We wander about town, checking out some of the tours but $30 dollars to walk 1.5km to see, pretty much what we're seeing here but a little closer just doesn't cut if for us. There's either lava or there's not and if there isn't we ain't paying. The tour guy annoyed
us!
So, instead of dragging Del up a volcano, or steep hill as this quiet volcano looks while doing nothing, we decide to indulge in a bit of luxury. Somehow our hotel, which quadruples as a hardware shop, veterinary (a dog got injected in the hindquarters on the counter next to us) and equestrian suppliers, can get us, for $25 each, access to one of the posh spas by the volcano and dinner. It's easily $15 cheaper than advertised anywhere else. We snap it up.
To make it seem like we deserve it, and to save some money, we decide to walk the 5km to the springs and get a taxi only on the return. We get about halfway there. The volcano is looming in front of us, the light has faded so that porch lights are gaining notice, the sky is growing the deep purple before twilight begins. In front, the volcano is starting to exhibit that dark magnetic shadow that only vast earth objects can when natural light is ebbing and the primordial, visceral awareness of the nearness of massive topography rises in the caveman in each of us. Then a taxi pulls up beside us.
The window rolls down. “Where are you going?”
“Baldi Springs.” Del replies a little too quickly but probably wisely.
“Get in.”
“Actually,” I interject, a little hesitatingly, as I realise the distance ahead of us. “We are walking it. Don't worry.”
“It's no charge,” comes the surprising answer. Too good to be true, my mind conjures images of newspaper articles on the discovery of our bodies in a ditch on one of the volcano's remote slopes.
Seeing our scepticism, the taxi man continues. “No charge now. Where you staying?”
We tell him.
“I take you up to Baldi now, no charge. When you ready later, maybe you need taxi back and you call me. It's seven dollars back to La Fortuna.”
This is exactly the sum we had been told to pay to get back. We jump in.
The five minute drive would have been a long, long walk with at least some of it in near darkness.
The entrance to the Baldi Springs is akin to a very expensive London hotel, complete with marble top, but in the open air. The people waiting to get in, everyone arrives
Guess what I am...
I am a very cute coati!!! by taxi, look like they would be at home in such a hotel. We suddenly feel very dirty and conspicuous. Surely everyone here recognises that we don't belong. With the taxi's business card in our pocket we advance into the springs. I hand over our voucher to the receptionist. She scowls at the amount on the voucher as if we'd somehow made it up.
“You're having dinner with us as well?” She says, a little disbelievingly.
We nod. Mute.
If she hadn't been so well trained she would have appeared reluctant as she granted us entry.
We don't quite stroll in as wander, a little awed, with small steps, so we don't inconvenience any of the important people here.
The first fat, alabaster tourist we see relaxes us. They must be from the Arenal Observatory ($120 a night plus tax, with spectacular views of the volcano). We might be backpackers but we look better in swimming suits.
There are 28 different springs, some hot enough to boil an egg, literally. The site is magnificent, with luxuriant foliage and lots of pathways to discover and always there's another pool to explore. We're in a modestly
warm one, complete with warm waterfalls, when the sky flashes. A lightening storm is on its way over one side and for twenty minutes we lie in the water watching our first tropical lightening storm. My favourite bath was very hot but not scalding, unlike the one you can see me cowering away from in the photos. This one had submerged tiled shelves, complete with headrest that I loved to lie on, partly submersed. It was at its best when it rained soon after the lightening storm. The water was steaming and the sky was dark and from it rained the biggest, wettest, comparatively coldest, drops of water. The mix was heavenly. Del and I spent more than a little while soaking it all in.
After we'd cooked and cooled and cuddled in waters of all temperatures we had an OK dinner in the buffet and rang our taxi man for a lift home. It wasn't quite a normal backpackers experience but we loved it. After being on the road for a while and being brave, it was nice to indulge for an evening without breaking the bank.
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