Craters and coffee

Yesterday, I went on a "Craters and Coffee" tour. The itinerary for the day was a trip to the crater of an active volcano, a tour of a coffee plantation, and then a visit to a small artesan village in the Central Valley.

The start to my morning was a bit rough. I was slated to meet the tour group outside of the Hotel Aurola Holiday Inn in San Jose at 7:40 AM. I missed my stop and I wound up running a solid ten blocks, from the bus terminal to the hotel. I made it just in time.

On our drive out of the city, the tour guide pointed out the construction of a new soccer stadium that was being built for the Costa Rican national team. She explained that the stadium was a gift from the Chinese government, commemorating a recently signed free-trade agreement between the two countries. It was reassuring to learn that the U.S. isn´t the only country that China has by the (soccer) balls.

As we drove into the mountains, our guide explained that since the peak of the Poaz Volcano is nearly 8,000 feet above sea level--in the middle of a cloud forest--she´s never sure whether or not we´ll be able to see the crater until we´re standing right in front of it.

When we arrived at the volcano it seemed clear enough. The hike to the crater took five or ten minutes, and everyone in the group was itching to get a peek.

When I got to the crater, this is what I saw:

Well, that´s not exactly what I saw. What I saw was a bit lighter and fluffier. Regardless, it was a fairly disappointing moment when I realized that I paid $65 to stand in the middle of a cloud.

The guide said that sometimes it clears up at a moments notice, so we should hang around for a little while. I was a bit dubious. But, we hung around for a while, and sure enough it began to clear up:

The $65 cloud

After about ten minutes of waiting, I caught a glimpse of some vegetation...

$65 shrubs

Finally, though, after fifteen minutes, I began to get my money´s worth:

And a little bit closer now.

There she is.

B-B-B-Bwoah yeah!

Do me a favor? Have me be me, and you be an active volcano?

Thanks.

At this point, I´d say that I had gotten my volcano fix for the day. But I was definitely hitting a mid-morning lull, and I was in some serious need of caffeine. So, we headed over to the Doka Coffee Plantation, in the fertile foothills of the volcano.

The coffee tour was very interesting. We learned all about the process--from planting and picking, to drying, roasting, and packaging.

While on the tour, one person asked the guide how they make decaffeinated coffee. The guide began her response by asking why anyone in their right mind would want to drink such crap. Then, she told us that you´ll never meet a Costa Rican who drinks decaf. "Drinking decaf coffee is not part of our culture," she said.

"For all you crazy tourists, though, we send the beans to Germany. There, they are decaffeinated by very expensive machines, in a very expensive process. Then, we sell the decaffeinated beans to you, and we sell the caffeine that´s been extracted from the beans to Coca-Cola, and a bunch of pharmaceutical companies."

Anyway, after drinking approximately fourteen cups of REGULAR coffee (for free), I was cocked, locked, and ready to rock.

(There are pictures of the coffee farm, too. But after running an extensive cost-benefit analysis, I´ve decided that your viewing pleasure just isn´t worth the current upload rate of 9 minutes per picture.)

From the coffee plantation, we headed over to Sarchi--a small artesan town that´s known for it´s woodwork.

On the way, we made a short pit stop in Grecia to see a massive church that´s constructed completely of metal. Everyone else in the group "ooohed" and "aaaahed."

The tour guide asked me if I wanted my picture taken in front of the church. Then I showed her the results of my bris, and she backed off.

In Sarchi, we were given thirty minutes to browse a woodwork shop. I wandered into the back room, where I saw one of the artesans hand-painting a wooden whatnot.

In Spanish, I asked him if I could watch. He said I could. Then he asked me where I´m from, how long I´m in Costa Rica for, and where I learned to speak Spanish. We spoke for about twenty minutes, I shopped for ten, and hopped back on the bus.

All in all it was an action packed day, capped off by a conversation in Spanish with a complete stranger.

For me, that´s some pretty good stuff.