Wet and wild arrival to the Westin Hotel in Playa Conchal

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Our driver for this portion of the trip was a young man of 27 years who drove the narrow winding road with the confidence of knowing it turn for turn. We hoped that was the case due to the lack of guard rails, safe pullouts and our driver’s uninhibited willingness to follow vehicles in front of us only inches from their bumper. Then again, unless I am personally at the wheel, I am never completely fond of another’s driving habits. For the next 4.5 hours, we did our best to be polite passengers, look out the side windows and avoid noticing the slower traffic in front of us and just held on tight to the seat fabric during failed attempts to pass it.
Driving through several small towns gave us the opportunity to observe the non-tourist, locals only lifestyle. We passed several small sleepy towns, all with curious buildings of some sort that really seemed to make no sense as to their actual use. To qualify as a legitimate town, a church, school, soccer field and a bar are required. All were visible from the highway along with modest homes and makeshift ranches. Despite the obvious poverty, people waived at us, apparently happy to see our van with the obvious bright yellow “Tourismo” banner stuck to the side. Translation…foriegn currency was being transported into their local economy.
Check in time at the Westin Hotel. Ongoing renovations have forced the staff to conduct guest services from a banquet room. This came as no surprise as we had been made aware prior to our arrival that certain areas would be under improvement efforts and checking in was no problem. The problem was the fact that the power was repeatedly failing, leaving the large room in darkness as a result of the intense thunderstorm and lightning that also greeted us upon arrival. Oh, that’s right…we have chosen to come during Costa Rica’s rainy season.
Rain is not a problem for Costa Ricans. Just when I was sure my family and I were going to get soaked getting to our room assignment, we were lead under cover to a waiting vehicle that we joked amongst ourselves as resembling the “Pope mobile”. A small white pickup truck with an aluminum roll cage and bench seating mounted over the bed. The entire structure covered with a white plastic tent and clear plastic windows with a zippered closure.
Having experienced impressively intense weather displays over the previous several days, our group was steadfast and confident it was only temporary. Temporary it was, lasting several more hours into the evening. Normal it was not. We learned the next day from an older gentleman, a local and employee of the property, that what we would witness that night had not happened there in over 12 years. Good thing we did not know that until the next day or we may not have found the evening to be as entertaining.
Our bags unpacked into the adjoining rooms we had been promised and we are off to one of the many restaurants on property for dinner. The storm is relentlessly entertaining and of an intensity level like nothing we have yet to experience. We stretch what should have been a 30 minute meal into over 2 hours, afraid to leave our table and face what we were witnessing outside void of safe protection. The sound of the lightning strikes rival those of artillery fire and seem to explode in stereo. The sound over us travels from one end of the horizon, over head and then fades off to the opposite horizon. The brilliant white flash of light warns us a split second prior to the next impending blast. So loud at times to warrant us plugging our ears with our finger tips as noise protection. The brighter the flash lights the night, the more likely we quickly plug our ears.
The incredible volume of rain that falls is steady for hours. We began to feel like the thick waterfalls that continuously spill from the roof tops into the artificial pond outside are actually a part of the water feature design. Finally the threat of lightening seems to move off to a safe distance and we venture out into a reduced intensity of rain fall. It is getting late and we are tired from our journey and anxious to retire to our rooms.
As we depart from the restaurant, we are happy we are wearing sandals. The walkway has many deep puddles, which quickly are turning into vast areas of water that as we continue toward our rooms becomes deeper. We quickly realize that the entire property is quickly going under water as the water goes over our ankles and in places reaches our knees. The property has become unrecognizable and we try to use the elevated pathway lighting to navigate our way through the water and avoid hidden obstructions. Hotel employees are out trying to assist guests and keep people calm. What we thought was just an entertaining thunder storm during dinner has actually been one for the record books, even by Costa Rican standards.
We reach our rooms and the entry area is a lake. The water has risen up and over the steps to our patio area. I peer into the room through the sliding glass door and confirm or fears. We are flooded out. The point of all of this build up is to make a wonderful point about the service level of the Costa Rican hotel industry and particularly the Westin Hotel during this event. Only 5 minutes after calling the front desk to ask where we could find the emergency life boats for use in our flooded rooms, hotel staffers were at our door to pick up our bags and relocate us to a new room. The Westin did not use the act of Mother Nature that night to cramp the family into a single room next to some whining generator room as some properties might claim are “the only available options”. Instead we were proudly shown into a very spacious 3 bedroom, 4 bathroom, first class condo, complete with spacious living rooms and full kitchen. We spent the night in obvious comfort and I struggled with my own guilty thoughts on how I could convince the hotel to keep us in this mega upgrade as a result of this nights inconveniences.
Morning comes quickly as my wife and I find ourselves trying to focus our blurry vision, when two exotic blue birds with white chests, black long beaks and head dress feathers that stick up on top of their heads greet us on our abundantly large condo balcony. They seem to be a mated pair and are having no problem announcing their expectations for us to solve their issues with loud shrieks and calls. They are hungry…so are we. One call for room service and we are kindly reminded to prepare to pack and move again…..back to our original room. I am proud of the positive attitude my posse has shown over the last 24 hours. Our bags are picked up and we are resigned to a full day at the pool while our original rooms are cleaned and readied for us once again. All in all, it was a great day.
For those who have never been to Costa Rica, if you don’t have an appreciation, or at least a desire to develop one for wildlife, you might consider another destination. If you lay still and long enough at the poolside, vultures will appear and begin to circle overhead. Personally, this amused me in some twisted way as I knew the poor creatures above were probably hungry and wondering if I was fair game yet. Then as I slowly rose in rested satisfaction, I smiled up at them as they disappointingly flew to check new potentials. At dinner waiters would chase off raccoons…brooms armed overhead ready to swat at the creatures while unsuspecting customers shrank in their chairs unaware of the acts purpose.
The next several days promised more encounters with monkeys in the trees, iguanas in the grass and even a small viper snake in our room…OK…that part wasn’t so cute, but my hat is off to the brave young man the front desk dispatched in less than 60 seconds flat to promptly remove the snake with a smile.
Saturday was highlighted with a 2 hour horseback ride. Siena, my youngest, was given a modern version of Eeyore from Whinny the Pooh. I smiled in approval as she is still my baby girl. Renee (my wife aka Pocohontis) and oldest daughter Bella are paired with an energetic set of runners. They both ran circles around us, hair flying and running through the surf line, then coming back to “make sure we are OK.” My horse, although the largest of the group simply looked at me like a large inconvenience and despite my encouragements to kick it up a gear, his bent back ears and lack of motivation told me to be thankful I was remaining in the saddle. The ride included a tour of the neighboring village of Brazilito, a poor small beach town that had its share of shanty homes, dogs sleeping on doorsteps and pets ranging from brightly colored roosters to small antlered deer. It was obvious preparations were underway for a fiesta on the public soccer and bull riding grounds. Upon returning our loyal steeds, we were eagerly invited to attend the fiesta but kindly declined. It was time to prepare to return to our own reality and figure out a way to pay for all of the experiences we had had.
Pura Vida !!

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Photos

Horses in Playa Conchal
Photo op on Playa Conchal