Stage 12: Race Report

The Tour de France started the weekend that I left to come here and today I was delighted to awake to the news of Chris Froome’s successful defence of the title. For the whole time that I have been here, hundreds of top class cyclists have been zooming around the roads of France, competing for one of the sport’s most prestigious titles. In a funny way, travelling and volunteering solo in a foreign country is a little like the race. Some parts flash by in a sprint, at times there are hard climbs but there are also stretches where things are a little monotonous. There are stunning views along the way when you realise how lucky you are to be there, doing what you are doing but there are also many times when you would love to give up and return to the comforts of home and family. I can not compare the prolonged and intense pain, but I am sure that when I return to the UK, my sprint up the Champs Elysees, I will look back on this incredible opportunity positively, probably burying away the tough stages, and hopefully with a smile on my face.

At times it’s hard maintaining everything alone without the ease and security of home support but I am getting to know my “family” here a little better. Yesterday, I enjoyed going out with my host sister. It was great. We had all the naughty things that we don’t get at home and went to see Cazafantasmas 3 (Ghostbusters 3). Proud moment to be able to (mostly) understand the film in Spanish and it was surprisingly good! It’s great living with a host family when they show you their world, allowing you to experience more of everyday life than the average tourist.

Most Latin American girls take great pride in their appearance and rarely seen without elaborately manicured nails, carefully styled and coloured hair and are often tottering around in wedged flip flops or sky high stilettos. Even in the fairly shabby shopping mall, I felt very under-dressed in my comfy shorts, rain coat and (flat) flip flops. This makes it all the more surprising that I should catch anyone’s eye at all. Masochism is live and well in most Latin American countries with Costa Rica being no exception. Having received our fair share of whoops and calls in Peru and Ecuador especially, I was braced this time. Costa Rica is definitely much better but you can always count on one. Every morning and every afternoon, regardless of the time of day whether it be at 5:20am or 4pm, there is a 70+ (looking) man who stands in his doorway and feels inclined to give me a round of applause followed by “super, super, super, very nice” as I pass. I am usually in a rather unsightly outfit and muddy shoes. If only the British boys were so easily impressed!

Not to worry though, Jesús (single himself) has been giving me advice. The classic conversation starter, "¿Usted tiene novio?" (Do you have a boyfriend?) escalated alarmingly quickly the other day. He not only helped me to consider the household skills that I have in order to be a good girlfriend but proceeded to direct me to a certain region of Costa Rica in order to find a boyfriend. The next day he proclaimed that God would ensure that I get a good boyfriend. Thanks for that but I think I’ll stay clear of the Limón province for now.

Jesús has a trove of stories that he continually surprises me with. Some are more believable than others but he is quite a character. Having worked illegally on an American cruise ship for four years, he has seen many parts of the US and has even been to Finland in order to clean a ship before it set sail across the Atlantic. One thing he is sure about though is that, having seen what the ”American dream” could offer, he is quite content pottering around a nature reserve in Costa Rica. ¡Pura Vida!

The past few days have been rich in visitor numbers. Oddly enough, many family groups venture right up to the reserve, tucked up in the hills, for photo shoots. Many bring along several outfit changes and the army of children that the often bring are all lined up for a cute picture in exactly matching costumes, accessories and all. This is all accompanied with a lot of noise, clapping and crying babies.

We have also had quite a few groups come with a new American school group staying in the dorms of the reserve each week. As everything is run by volunteers, at the end of the week, my host mum, along with a group of ladies from the community give up their Saturday morning to clean and change over the beds and living areas, ready for the next group. This Saturday we meandered up the only road, in their catering van (a separate enterprise that they also run together), picking up various passengers along the way. Once we had squeezed seven, rather overweight, ladies and several pillow cases full of laundered sheets into the small confines, we chugged up the hill, all of them cackling at their jokes and the latest gossip. Quebradas really is a community. Everyone knows everyone, and I am sure gossip gets around before you have time to take your next breath. Despite this, I think it’s admirable that each one of these ladies and their families have lived in Quebradas for their whole life and yet continue to work together, socialise and support one another in such an amicable way. Most of the village takes an interest in the reserve and many are directly involved. It is a source of great pride for the community as evidenced by the fact that in 2013, FUDEBIOL celebrated it’s twenty five year anniversary.

The winter weather refreshes the humid atmosphere but brings more rain every week. One afternoon, I joined Agathe for tea in her host family’s house while waiting for the rain to pass. Rather different from mine, it is a farm on the hill just next to the reserve. The house was incredible. Build around the trunk of a tree, the circular tepee style house, is carved from beautiful rainforest hard woods giving it a beautiful golden glow. Sitting on a sturdy home-crafted chair, at a table draped with a red and white chequered Christmas tree table cloth, I could have been sitting in a Swiss mountain hut if it were not for the view. Through the coloured windows, the creative wooden craftsmanship extended to a bar outside, surrounded by small trees which enticed the odd hummingbird. Whilst it is basic and I hear stories of the cockerel awaking at 2am, it was great to wait there for the rain to pass over a cup of green tea. This small scale working farm with a rainforest back drop is a really beautiful creation.

So far we have managed to avoid the slimy job of cleaning the lake but we don’t have too many opportunities remaining. I’m over half way through now. There have been a few climbs this week but as I near the final stages of my Tour de Costa Rica, I’ll take in the views while they last and approach each stage as it comes.

Jesús quote of the week: "Ustedes son inteligentes. ¡Que incredible!"