A scheduled break. . .

We are outta here for a week for vacation. OK, not really a vacation as we will
spending the lion's share of our week off in San Jose finalizing our permanent
residency paperwork, getting our driver's license and standing in a lot of lines.

No computer access from where we'll be and we don't want it. There will be enough time dealing with bureaucracy and other things and more than likely there will be tales to tell and exaggerate upon our return.

There is a casino not too far from where we will be staying and if we hit the jackpot, we plan to hire someone to write the blog for us. Assuredly, it will be someone more literate and frequent that we can manage!

So, Jungle Journey will be on hiatus until the end of August or the first of September.

In our absence, one of the better blogs out there is Blog My Rabbit, run by an outstanding journalist in Lewiston, Idaho. Check it out.

Baby boa

This isn't something that we see every day. And this isn't the actual picture of the critter we saw, as no one had the foresight to bring a camera to breakfast.

The other day, while taking the path up to the rancho where breakfast is served, Darling and Patricia pointed out a baby boa constrictor that was wrapped around a branch, right above everyone's heads as we walk up to the rancho. Now, for you nervous types, this critter was hanging above the area where Lucy and I walk, along with the other folks who work here. The guests come to the rancho from a different place.

Anyway, considering my phobia regarding snakes, it took a while for me to be able to see the bugger; though in all honesty it was very difficult to tell it apart form the twig it was wrapped around.

Boas do not have venom; rather they wrap up their prey. And this little critter was in no danger of wrapping up even Mini-B. It was pretty neat to check it out hanging about 12 inches above most people's heads close to where everyone was eating breakfast.

Single travelers. . .

Usually, we get couples, and plenty of families, staying here at the hotel. Every once in a while, though, we get a single traveler. An adventurous soul wanting to get off the beaten path here in Costa Rica.

Would anyone be surprised to learn that the single travelers run about 10 to 1 for females vs. males?

We were, just for the fact that I thought that men would be more likely to venture out and about on their own than women.

Obviously, that's wrong as we've just had our second solo dude here in the 2.5 years we've been managing the hotel. In that time, we've had probably around 15 or more single women come through. In fact, we're due for another visit in September/October from a woman who has stayed here twice in the past.

Medical care. . .

One of the requirements (and there are a lot) to getting permanent residency, is joining La Caja, or the medical/social security branch of Costa Rica.

Once we had the basic paperwork in hand, we headed up to the La Caja office in Quesada. Fortunately, we went with Darling, who has had a lifetime of dealing with the intricacies of bureaucracy here.

We showed up at the office at 6:50 a.m., 10 minutes before it opened. We took a number and waited, with all of our paperwork in hand.

After about 30 minutes, our number was called. We trudged up, ready to go, with passports, copies of the front of the passport and all of the immigration documents in hand.

One hitch: They required a copy of every single page of our passport. Even the blank ones. Lucy and Darling headed out to find a copy machine (of course, there wasn't one at the office we were at) while I pulled another number.

After 20 minutes, I was ready to pull yet another number, as it looked like we were going to be passed by, as the folks in front of us were caught in the same snare as we were: no copies of every page.

Fortunately, Lucy and Darling came back in the nick of time and everything was taken care of--for me.

Evidently, the immigration office had designated myself as the primary beneficiary on the account. Hence, I was all registered and good to go. Lucy? She had to get back in a different line and go through another round of hoops before she got her approval.

Finally, we were approved. But wait, there's another issue: We had to go to the local medical clinic to get our cards (they aren't issued at the main office).

After calling around, we discovered that if we could get to the clinic by noon, we could get the cards. We flew to the clinic and found out that the wife of one of our friends was working there that day, so things went smoothly after that.

Long(er) story short: I now have my card, which is good for 10 years (it's beneficial to be the primary beneficiary) while Lucy's card is good for just 5 years.

Smooth(er) sailing. . .

We got some good news last week: Our application for permanent residency here in Costa Rica has been approved.

Basically, this means that we don't have to leave the country every three months for a visa run. We can stay here and do our thing. Of course, we're still going to travel and get out and about. We can do it on our own schedule, now.

Naturally, the process isn't a simple one. There were a lot of hoops and hurdles to get through and we had a great firm help us out. However, we're still not done.

We're due for a week off starting August 21. We were going to head to the beach and relax (prices to Vegas were a bit too high, unfortunately) but that is now put on hold.

In order to finish everything up, we're going to spend the week in the San Jose area, heading to various government offices for fingerprinting, photos, signatures and more of the same, probably in triplicate.

A bit on the strange side. . .

There was a couple here a few days ago (see what you miss when the art department isn't on the ball?) that checked in for one night.

About an hour or so after they checked in, they headed up to the waterfall and river. The rancho, where breakfast is served, is on the way. Darling and Patricia were working up at the rancho, clearing out some fallen limbs and planting some flowers.

They had the door to the rancho open, as they had their lunch in the refrigerator.

The guests walked into the kitchen area of the rancho, turned on the lights and helped themselves to Darling and Patricia's food.

Darling and Patricia called here at the house wondering what to do (the guests didn't speak Spanish and Darling and Patricia's English is limited). We walked up there, but the guests--and the food and drinks--were gone.

The guests did return the dirty dishes (scattered around various tables) and no one said anything.

Lesson learned: Keep things locked up at all times.

We're back. . .

Evidently, there was a bit of miscommunication between the editorial and art department this past week regarding who was posting what and when.

Not that we like to point fingers here, but suffice to say that the art department has had its funds slashed like a Gannett executive going after a bonus.

Golden Rule No. 3

When Darling, Patricia or Seidy come back from cleaning tree houses after multiple checkouts, do not joke with them that the other guests have requested new sheets and towels in their tree houses, muy pronto.

Ever.

Walk of faith. . .

August 2 was the traditional pilgrim's walk here in Costa Rica and in a lot of other places in Central America. Most of the folks head to the church in Cartago (right). Here, people walk to the church in Los Angeles, which is maybe 8 or so miles from us here at the hotel.

Unfortunately, I'm not well-versed in the lore or rationale behind the walk, as it is primarily a Catholic thing.

It is a yearly occurrence and while the roads aren't closed, they are pretty crowded with folks walking from all over to get to the respective churches. Some people walk 1 or 2 miles, others walk 10 or 12, depending on where they live.

Interestingly, this is about the only time of the year that people walking on the sides of the roads have on reflective vests and carry flashlights. The rest of the time, they don't have any safety gear on at all.

The Fresh Prince of Tree Houses?

Not likely. However, Will Smith has been reportedly scouting a movie location up
at the Arenal Volcano the past couple of days.

The volcano is visible from just up and down the road and the parks are about 40 minutes or so away.

No Smith sightings down our way, but it will be interesting to see one of his movies in the next year or two to see if the volcano or the surrounding areas are featured in it.

For those who may be wondering: SpyKids2 featured the Arenal Volcano in the movie, as well as the beaches of Manuel Antonio. (Or maybe it was SpyKids1--can't remember).

And no: Jurassic Park was set on an island off of Costa Rica in the story, but as far as I know, it was mostly filmed in and around Kauai--and any Islanders please feel free to correct me.

Adios. . .

Yesterday, we had some folks check out. That happens nearly every day. However, this time it was a little bittersweet as we had gotten to know these folks quite well.

There was a family of four from Toronto who were here for nine days and a couple from Austin, Texas, that stayed for six. It was nice heading up to breakfast for about a week and seeing the same, familiar faces and shooting the breeze with them.

We always wonder what folks will be like when they check in for extended stays, and so far we have not been saddled with unpleasant people. They have all been great, which makes everything a lot easier and more pleasant.

And as a bonus for Lucy, they all brought down some cooking magazines as a gift to her.

Lizard season. . .

At least it is for Mini-B. She just cannot resist the allure of the reptiles skittering about the grounds. She will be asleep at one point, and then come to full alert, with her left paw off the ground and completely focused. Then it's a mad dash after the critter, which (9 times out of 10) is much faster and more elusive than she is.

Still, it doesn't deter her and she tears off like a crazed animal in search of prey.

No idea about the reason for the pose, but it always happens before she bolts (and her ears stand straight up). Nary a growl or anything, just a focus on critters (thankfully smaller than her) that are darting about.

Repairman to the rescue. . .

Once again, our washing machines needed some first aid and we called Minor--the lone appliance repairman in these parts.

Not surprisingly, Minor is a busy man and much in demand. We have called friends and other hotels within a 75-mile radius and they all say the same thing: Call Minor.

He does a great job, though pinning him down is always tough. This time it was both of our washing machines. Both are Whirlpool and the same model and style that is most of the households in the States.

Here at the hotel, the machines get more of a workout as we're running four to five loads in them daily with the guests checking in and out.

We have one machine that is about 4 to 5 years old and another that's just about a 1-year-old. Both went down and that presents somewhat of a crisis.

Despite my best entreaties, no one seems keen on slapping towels and sheets on the rocks down at the river and are quite vocal and nasty when the subject is brought up.

Minor at last showed up three days and 15-some hours late, but with all the parts and balance was restored to the laundry world.

As an aside, if anyone buys a Whirlpool in the future, Minor's best advice?

Make sure it was made in the U.S.A. and not parts south, as the U.S. models tend to hold up longer and are more durable.