At first glance, the Timanfaya National Park in the interior of Lanzarote, the Eastern-most of Spain’s Canary Islands, seems little more than a desolate landscape of lava fields with volcanos rising over them. It is only once you look closer that you can see the austere beauty of the many lava tubes, calderas, and craggy peaks, the lava sea, all wind-worn over the centuries. The arid, rocky plains and the smooth, naturally wind-swept fields of volcanic ash hold an austere beauty all their own. Euphorbia plants and lichens, as well as lizards and insects, call this untouched, protected area home.

Lanzarote is known by the sobriquet “Volcano Island” because of its volcanic origins and these vast areas covered in lava and volcanic ash, but one can find the occasional oasis of posh resorts with golf courses and palm-studded lawns dotting the rugged shoreline. What were once poor fishing villages are now sailing harbors with destination resorts. One such, the five-star Secrets Lanzarote Resort & Spa in Puerto Calero, is an all-inclusive hotel with more pools and restaurants than can be explored in a week of indulgence, and too many steps to climb to do it. At least that’s what I thought climbing to and from my suite with its swim-out pool. Fortunately, there are elevators, and the service is so great I didn’t have to leave my room except for an occasional tour of the interior.

As man has turned these oasis’ into tourist destinations, it is the hand of man that sculpted much of the rest of the island into pock-marked slopes with semi-circles of lava rock walls on the windward side to protect the fruit trees and especially grape vines growing at the bottom of the depressions. While Lanzarote has little rain and scarce water, there is a sea fog that rolls in condensing, as does the dew, on the porous ash which then seeps down to water the plants. This natural funnel is enough for grape vines to flourish so that wineries can produce some excellent wines. There is no better place to see this environmentally constructed design than at Stratvs Winery.

Located in La Geria, the wine growing region of Lanzarote, Stratvs Winery is an architectural gem surrounded by natural beauty. Their uniquely shaped bottles showcase their eminently drinkable, delicious wines. I’m a white wine fan, so their Malvasia white was my favorite, but their Tinto Joven is the rare red I would buy and drink again. You are well-advised to stop in for a tasting. While you are there, the restaurant is exceptional, and their shop is filled with unusual canned foods and gifts. Everything about Stratvs Winery says “quality.”

But Stratvs Winery is not the most remarkable “hand-of-man” construction in Lanzarote. For that we must look to César Manrique Cabrera, Lanzarote’s renowned artist, sculptor, architect, and designer. César Manrique (as he is known) had as much influence on the “look” of the entire island as Roberto Burle Marx had on Rio de Janeiro. (The white and black tiled sidewalks and squares paired with tropical plantings were Marx’s trademark.)

César Manrique is so completely tied to Lanzarote that even the airport is named after him. His concept of white houses, no more than 2 stories high, each with either green or blue trim, depending on location and use, was the model throughout Lanzarote. His commitment to environmentally sound construction and land use set the stage for the island’s development. And stage is the right word for many reasons. César Manrique lived his storied life in the spotlight surrounded by glamorous people engaged in hedonism and debauchery, influence and intrigue. His two most dramatically visible accomplishments utilize lava tubes both large and small to mix art and nature, creating unique structures where his sculpture, paintings, and designs are dramatically displayed.

To understand his architecture, you first must know a bit about the geology of the area and the nature of volcanos. Lanzarote is an ancient volcanic island. Three hundred years ago it underwent a violent volcanic period (there are more than 300 volcanoes on the island) that covered large areas in lava and ash, vastly increasing the island’s size. Lava flowing down the slopes and across the fertile farmland cooled on the outside, solidifying even as the hot lava still flowed inside. Then, as gases built up inside, some pockets exploded, while others expanded until eventually the roof collapsed, leaving holes in the lava tubes called jameos. What was left were expanses of underground tunnels with random sized jameos open to the sky. It was César Manrique who saw the value and beauty of these formations, turning them into underground living additions and creative spaces.

The César Manrique Foundation is where César Manrique lived before his death in a car accident in 1992. It is a more-or-less conventional house built over a lava tube with five jameos which he converted into rooms. Some open into covered living spaces while others into gardens and courtyards, the most dramatic housing an underground pool with waterfall, all connected by narrow passages of exposed lava. The underground rooms have small conversational areas, or trysting niches, if you are to believe the many photos on the walls. It is a hedonist’s playhouse, with the framed images of same and opposite sex couplings leaving little to the imagination. It is wondrously beautiful stage for a talented and free-spirited man with a lust for life! (NOTE: the many steps and narrow passages may restrict the infirm, and the imagery may not be suitable for all ages.)

”Jameos del Agua”, the first Art, Culture, and Tourist Center César Manrique created, is woven through and above a much larger lava tube. Its design exemplifies his belief that artistic creation should be in harmony with the environment and nature. It was completed in 1977, before the term “handicap accessible” was a consideration. The entrance is via a steep spiral staircase down into Jameo Chico, a rough-hewn levelish area that houses the open-air restaurant. A short tunnel off to the east goes to the sea. To the west are steps down to a subterranean tidal pool where white endangered Blind Crabs are located. Passing through that you’ll climb up to the Jameo Grande where the most stunning swimming pool defiantly advertises No Swimming, yet begs to be swam in. It is a natural looking pool defined by the white painted smooth concrete separations César Manrique’s designs are known for. Stairs up to ground level lead to a visitor’s center of unusual and fun exhibits. The mirror room is not to be missed!

However, the crowning achievement of “Jameos del Agua” is just off the pool level, with steps down to an underground auditorium with excellent acoustics. Here, 550 people can hear classical and contemporary concerts in a natural setting, with seating sloping down to a stage set in a lava tube. The Auditorio Jameos del Agua is one of the many sites for the Canary Islands International Festival of Music held mid-January to mid-March every year. The auditorium is an artistic treasure linking the beauty of music to the beauty of nature in an environmentally sound way – the way all of César Manrique’s projects do.

Other things to do in Lanzarote include taking a short ferry ride to the neighboring La Graciosa island to experience a more rustic and isolated retreat, with no paved roads and few residents; visit the extinct volcano caldera on the edge of the sea called the Green Lagoon; visit Janubio Salt Mine (really evaporation pools) the largest in the Canary Islands for a friendly, personal tour; hike into the caldera of Volcan del Cuervo on a mostly level and well maintained path in Timanfaya National Park; also in the Park, Devil’s Kitchen should not be missed; and finally, eat and drink with abandon at the many fine wineries and restaurants.

I think the best meal I had was at Bodega del Santiago, but overall, the food everywhere was great, although the beef was often overcooked. I also spent one night at the five-star Hotel Fariones and compiled a video of the hotels and restaurants so you can see them for yourself.

Whatever your passions or pleasures, you’ll love visiting Lanzarote!

The post After Nature, The Hand Of Man Created Lanzarote appeared first on Traveling Archive.

RARATONGA, Cook Islands – It was a quiet afternoon on Raratonga, in the Cook Islands, when Lydia Nga heard the news. With the stroke of a pen, her homeland, 15 scattered islets west of Tahiti, a country smaller than Detroit, had grown exponentially, reborn as a 690,000 square-mile nation.
But it wasn’t the islands that grew. In 1982, the Third United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea ruled that coastal nations had jurisdiction over their own “exclusive economic zone,” defined as 200 miles of the ocean floor, measured from the shore. Most nations welcomed the ruling. For a group of tiny islets like the Cooks, population 17,600, it was a passport to the future.

Fast forward to my second visit to Rarotonga, lured by memories of blue lagoons, warm breezes and fewer annual tourists than DisneyWorld sees in a holiday weekend.

“How’s the economy doing?” asked my editor at the newspaper. “Has big money spoiled Rarotonga’s Polynesian charms? The last time we looked the Cooks were like Hawaii in the 1960s, 50 years behind everybody else.”

I wondered myself. And as the overnight flight from Los Angeles descended above a group of low, volcanic peaks, the lagoon and its sandy shoreline, framed by rows of palms and scattered houses, came into view. Adjusting to a new time zone, I figured I’d start the day on the beach with a stroll and a swim. But Nga, head of the tourist office, better known as Auntie Lydia, greeted me with a resounding “welcome” and a request.

“I hope you can stop at the Marae Moana office to meet our ocean specialist,” she said. “He’s the one who can explain what the Marine Park conservation project is all about.” Greeting us at the door, the speaker, a tall man in shorts, waved us toward a couple of empty seats behind a dozen high school kids then turned back to the chart on the screen up front.

“Marae Moana means ocean domaine,” he said. “It’s a mind-set, an idea, a shift in the way we see ourselves,” he added, clicking through a series of charts listing each of the Cook’s 15 islands and regulations including fishing areas, no-fish areas and sea-bed limits. “We’re may be from different islands, but we’re one marine nation,” he said. “As conservators of 690,000 square miles of ocean floor, including known and untapped resources, we need to know that the government will be conducting a detailed survey of it all.”

Slipping out, I headed to the nearest ocean-side café for a grilled fish sandwich, and sharing a table, I made two new friends. Friendly and curious, they explained that the Cooks have a historic connection with New Zealand, and many have families there. Yearly visits are the norm and most college-bound students choose a school in New Zealand or Australia.

Later, at dinner at the Moorings Café, I learned that New Zealand’s Maoris originally came from Rarotonga. Falling out with a rival clan, they loaded their families onto canoes – ocean-going “vakas” – and headed west, eventually settling New Zealand. Meanwhile, curious about the menu, I learned that the sea slugs listed under “Seafood,” squishy marine dwellers commonly found in shallow water, are not only a favorite snack but are often eaten raw.

At Charlie’s Café, I found myself sitting with a group speaking a mix of English (for my benefit) and Maori, one of the few Polynesian languages still in common use. A required subject in school, they told me, it lives on in the Cook Islands despite colonial rule, foreign tourists and cell phones.

The next day and ready to explore, I rented a bicycle for a jaunt on the famous “outer-circle” road, 20 miles around and “a good way to get your bearings,” according to my guidebook. I could have hurried – the road is paved – but it was more fun to stop at viewpoints, wander through craft shops and wave at passing motorcyclists. Teens, moms, grandpas, men with fishing rods, everybody was riding a motorcycle.

The tour was so rewarding that I signed up for another bike tour, this one on the “inner-circle” road, the “Ara Metua,” an ancient road said to be 1,000 years old. Guides Dave and Tami Furnell, the owners of Storytellers Eco-Cycle Tours, led the group on a sometimes-paved, mostly grassy, occasionally gravelly road encircling the base of the mountains.

Staying inland and taking frequent detours between forests and farm fields, I discovered why the food in Raratonga’s restaurants is so fresh. It’s because it’s grown locally. Rows of taro (the edible leaf variety) grew next to salad greens, tomatoes, pumpkins, red peppers, onions, pineapples and passion fruit. Blocks of orchards produced limes, oranges, papaya, mangoes and star fruit. Stopping at the noni orchard, Tami stopped to explain that the noni, reputed to be a health tonic, is one of the few fruits grown for export. Picking a ripe one, mushy, smelly and dripping juice, she held it out. “Go ahead, try it,” she said, laughing. “They’re a popular mosquito repellent.” Pulling it into pieces and handing chunks around – to a chorus of laughs and “yuck, icky, sticky” – she dared us to smear a little on.

Since no Cook Island is complete without a visit to the neighboring island Aitutaki (eye-too-TOC-kee), famed for its enormous lagoon, I grabbed a seat on the next flight, took a bus to the lagoon and checked into an over-water bungalow at the Aitutaki Lagoon Resort. Popular with families, children, girlfriends and newly-weds, the bungalows include kitchenettes and sleep up to six people. Walking paths circle the property and the restaurant serves three meals a day. With a deck and a ladder five feet away, outside my door, I had to get into the water and float around.

Since the only way to explore the Lagoon is by boat, the resort concierge suggested a cruise with Tere (pronounced Terry), an enterprising islander and owner of Te King Lagoon Cruises, one of several local outfits. Packing ten of us (from the U.S., Italy and Australia) into his boat, he circled the lagoon, speeding through deep water and rounding the motus (coral islets) on the rim. Reaching shallower water, we slowed down to drift-speed for a closer look at the spectacular coral gardens, reef fish, and all of a sudden, a couple of massive four-footers, big fish cruising among the smaller ones.

Circling again, heading for lunch at One Foot Island, we climbed out on an enormous sand bar for the trek to shore. Greeted by the smell of grilled chicken, we found the lunch crew working in the shade, flipping wings and breasts and laying out plates of fresh fruit, green salads, potatoes, bread and chips. I discovered why we’d been told to bring our passports. Those who did – including me – came away with One Foot’s  famous “been there, loved it” stamp.

Speeding back to the pier, leaving a wake behind, I found myself marveling at every other South Pacific lagoon, each a unique biome inside Pacific lagoons, ecological wonders inside a coral reef. Protected from the wind and tides but continually refreshed by water spilling over the edge, lagoons are worlds unto themselves, populated by birds, fish, crabs, clams, mollusks, coral and insects. And people.

On my last evening, I was invited to dinner at Plantation House, a colonial home and the property of Louis Enoka, a former restaurant owner and international businessman. The dinner, with Chef Minar Henderson cooking, is held just once a month and seats 20 to 26 diners guests at a single table. Equally important is the pre-dinner cocktail hour, a rare opportunity for diners to wear a gown or put on a tie, introduce themselves and socialize. And it gives Henderson a chance to finish dozens of different dishes at the same time: A remarkable feast, with heaping platters of chicken, fish, pork and pasta, and plates piled with fruit, island-grown vegetables and spices. But the event has a larger purpose. It’s an opportunity for those with a world view people, whether islanders or visitors, to share their views on politics, international business, technology and science, and ancient cultures.

Filling my plate and heading to a designated chair, I was amazed to find the former Prime Minister, Henry Pun, sitting next to me. After studying law in New Zealand and Australia, he said, he turned to politics. But with dinner in front of us, serious conversation gave way to the meal, and comparing the prawns with lemongrass to the coconut-flavored rice and the spiced pork and couscous with kaffir lime. Eventually the conversation turned to pearl farming near on Manihiki (his birthplace) and the current underwater search for rare-earth minerals.

Commenting on the importance of the Trans-Pacific Partnership (which former President Trump dropped and which President George W. Biden has now rejoined), Puna reminisced about hosting Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, whom he described as delightful, intelligent and well informed. But it was the pan-seared mahi mahi with ginger and garlic that finally turned the conversation to global warming and the ocean.

“That former president, Trump, he doesn’t believe in clean energy,” he said, noting that melting ice means rising sea levels, threatening Aitutaki and the Cook Islands’ other atolls. “And yes, we’re worried,” he said, “but we’re doing our part. Right now 50 percent of these islands’ electric power comes from solar installations. In another four years our islands will be 100 percent solar.” Well, I said to myself, if only the rest of the world could say that.

THE NITTY GRITTY:

COOK ISLANDS TOURISM: Hotels and resorts are listed at www.cookislands.travels.

WEATHER: June through September is warm and dry. December through March, the rainy season, is hotter and more humid. Shoulder months – April, May October and November – are variable.

GETTING AROUND: You may not need to rent a car. Most activities, cafes and beaches can be reached by cab or bicycle. For tours or expeditions see outfitters like Tik e-tours (www.tik-etours.com) and Storytellers Eco Cycle Tours www.storytellers.co.ck.

FLIGHTS: Limited flights may make it hard to choose a date. At the present, Air New Zealand operates the only non-stop flight from the U.S. to Rarotonga, a nine-to-ten-hour flight. Choose economy, premium business, and beds. Rates are geared to New Zealand’s holiday seasons.

For more, follow veteran traveler Anne Cooke on Facebook at “Anne Z. Cooke” and on Twitter at @anneontheroad.

The post When the Cook Islands Grew: Coming of Age in the 21st Century appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Oars up for these rafters on a quiet stretch of the Pacuare River, a classic pool-and-drop stream.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

TURRIALBA, Costa Rica – It was 6:01 a.m. when we heard them barking, insistent “huh-huh-huh-huhs” rising above the rain forest canopy. After a pause they began again, rough grunts floating through our mountain eyrie, high above the Pacuare River.

“Howler monkeys,” mumbled Steve, squinting at his watch. Then a toucan squawked, a raspy screech from the trees near the corner of our deck, 500 feet up the hill at Pacuare Lodge, in eastern Costa Rica’s Barbilla National Park. Jumping out of bed, we grabbed the binoculars and a camera and dashed outside, to be greeted by the dawn and a faint chorus of chirps and whistles.

Keel-billed toucans, bright-colored and slow-flying, are easy to spot in dense rain forests like those in the Pacuare River gorge.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

“Shhhh! Listen,” said Steve, who’d been thinking about jaguars since the evening the office manager showed us a video of a big cat prowling through the underbrush, photos captured in night-time trail-shots taken up the hill. He peered over the railing and under the deck. “Was that a growl?” Wildlife thrives in Costa Rica, in forests, backyard gardens and especially near eco-lodges, most of which are in remote parks, along rivers and in coastal jungles. From birds to monkeys, each day brings another surprise. Keep your eyes peeled when you’re out for a walk and you may be rewarded.

Each Linda Vista Suite, on stilts above the Pacuare River, has a private deck, hammocks, lounge chairs and a plunge pool.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

Capuchin monkeys, sloths, coatis and birds appeared when the morning was fresh and light spread over the horizon. Butterflies, bacillus lizards (so-called “Jesus lizards” because they “walk” on water) and howler monkeys seemed to prefer full sun. By late afternoon, green frogs, tapirs, armadillos and tarantulas were active. But it wasn’t until the dark hours – after we were in bed – that Costa Rica’s six big cats – leopards, pumas, ocelots, oncillas, jaguarundis and margays – went on the climbed down from the trees for a silent prowl, crossing in front of the camera in search of prey or a mate.

Pacuare Lodge, a National Geographic-designated Unique Lodge of the World, built of local wood among rain forest trees on the Pacuare River, includes a central hall, lively bar and an indoor-outdoor dining area, with over 18 guest cottages, from thatched bungalows to luxurious suites.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

“Jaguars? Maybe, but don’t count on it,” said our travel planner Alison Carson, a Latin America expert, when she called to talk about our proposed two-week trip to Costa Rica. We’d been there before on a cruise, but the short time we spent on shore sowed the seeds for a real adventure.

We’ve always planned our own trips. But when a friend recommended Carson we decided to see what she’d suggest. After years of experience booking trips for friends, couples and families, she specializes in creating customized, personalized itineraries. And as we explained, we didn’t want to sit in a hotel or on a bus. We wanted to be outdoors. “The possibilities are endless,” she said. “But in case you wondered, we’re not booking trips to the rest of Central America, at least not yet.” Why, I asked. “Just Costa Rica,” she answered. “Because it’s the region’s only safe country.” Was it? I asked myself. Wars, poverty, and drug cartels have plagued Central America for decades. How could Costa Rica avoid entanglement in their neighbors’ problems?

Howler monkeys, kings of the rain forest canopy, are hard to see but easy to identify; listen for their loud throaty howls. Though nine species have been identified, Costa Rica is home to just one, the common mantled howler.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

Unlike its Central American neighbors, Costa Rica reaches across the region from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean. The Atlantic climate, rainier and more humid, supports forests, thick jungles and an endless variety of bushes, vines and flowers. In contrast, the Pacific climate, determined by a different set of wind and currents, is drier and sunnier. We’d already planned to visit friends who’d rented a house overlooking the Pacific Ocean. So Carson suggested starting with Pacuare Lodge in the east, continuing to Nayara Springs Resort, near Avenal Volcano in the center, and from there we’d go on to join our friends.

River runners rafting to Pacuare Lodge encounter easy Class 2 rapids. Beyond the Lodge, the river becomes a torrent, with Class 5 white-water rapids downstream.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

River runners rafting to Pacuare Lodge encounter easy Class 2 rapids. Beyond the Lodge,

“Pacuare Lodge is pretty special,” said Carson. “It’s off the grid, on the Pacuare River, in the middle of the forest, best reached from the river. It’s world famous for class-five white-water, but those rapids are farther east, past the lodge. The part you’ll be on is easy and short, about four miles. Guests take the rafting company’s bus to the river and rafdown from there.”

An overnight at the historic Finca Rosa Blanca, a 20-minute drive from San Jose International Airport, is a brief journey back in time to Costa Rica’s Spanish colonial era. 

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

Two weeks later our itinerary arrived, with car transfers, drivers’ names, contact information, guides and hotel confirmations. Three weeks later we were on our way to the Pacuare River Lodge, with reservations to follow for Nayara Springs Resort, near the country’s signature volcano, Avenal. Since Avenal continues to puff and steam, you can’t climb closer than the observation deck, up the trail. So we hiked up to the top of another volcano, this one extinct.

With a dozen hot springs, some free and others built into commercial spas, swimming pools, gardens, restaurants, miles of walks and the town nearby, a town and nearby, it promised a change of pace. Ready to go, bags packed and flights and plans in order, all I needed to know was whether Costa Rica really was that safe.

Fully restored, Finca Rosa Blanca, a National Geographic-listed lodge 20 minutes from San Jose International Airport, perches on a hill behind an arcaded courtyard and lush gardens. Spanish colonial murals, decorative sculpture and hand-crafted furniture echo the period.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

“Is it true what they say,” I asked Abel, the driver who picked us up at Juan Santamaria International Airport, in San Jose, the capital city. “Is Costa Rica Central America’s safest country?” “We think so,” he said, catching my eyes in the rear view mirror. “And why?” he said, heading for the Finca Rosa Blanca hotel, north of the city. “Because we have no military,” he said. “The money (taxes) pays instead for schools, high school and college, and for health care and doctors. And it’s all free,” he said. “Of course, there are always people who don’t want to work and are tempted to steal,” he said. “But most people here have jobs,” he added as we reached the hotel, a restored, 14-suite Spanish Colonial house and coffee plantation, with a pool and a popular open-air restaurant.

Manolo Munoz, coffee plantation guide at the Finca Rosa Blanca Inn, 20 minutes north of San Jose, explains the coffee bean sorter during a plantation tour.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

Arriving in time to join the hotel’s coffee plantation tour, we expected a sales pitch. But the two-hour uphill walk with Naturalist Manolo Munoz was as much about sustainable farming and water conservation as it was about a good cup of joe. Stepping off the trail and among the coffee trees, each planted in volcanic soil between banana and poro trees in a “mixed-species forest,” Munoz explained that these “trees add important minerals to the soil. A mix of sun and shade grows better “cherries” (coffee beans) than commercial farms planting on big flat fields,” he said. That evening, as the sun slipped between the palm fronds, Miguel, one of the hotel waiters, came around with menus. As he paused, I decided to see what he’d say about safety. “Um, Miguel, why do people say Costa Rica is Central America’s safest country?” “Because we don’t have an army,” he said. “After the civil war, in 1949, the government decided that paying for education, hospitals, culture and parks was more important than guns and soldiers.”

Arenal Volcano’s unexpected 2010 eruption reminded observers that Central Costa Rica’s most iconic feature can be unpredictable.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

Local police manage local crime and a national government-supported 70-man team of “commandos,” a so-called trained “security and intervention” group, is available for emergencies, he explained. But beyond that, no army. And from then on, whomever we met, the conversation eventually turned to the importance of an education for youth, health care, and the importance of environmental awareness, all of it taught in grade school.

Howler monkeys barking overhead led to a conversation about species adaptation to the country’s 12 climate zones, ranging from sea level to the summit of the 12,533-foot volcano Cerro Chirripo. Rafting through the Pacuare River’s narrow gorge, the guide pointed out the differences between the trees along the river gorge and those on the mountain side above. Even at Nayara Springs Resort, a popular tourist destination with winding trails among gardens and trees, our dinner-time waitress paused to coo over a pair of young sloths napping in the trees nearby.

Like much in Costa Rica’s rain forest, the Pacuare Lodge’s “Canopy Adventures” zipline orientation starts up in a tree. Pacuare Lodge, Costa Rica.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

Located beyond city power and water, Pacuare Lodge employees were doubly aware of the environment limits. Electricity, limited to the early evening hours, was carefully managed. At night, candles lit both floors of the lodge – the bar upstairs and the dining room and river-side deck downstairs, where all of our meals were served. Our bungalow had a single light bulb available during bedtime hours. The bungalow had a solid wall against the hillside, with stilts anchoring the floor and front deck to the hill. The front and side walls were nothing but screens, admitting light – and bird calls – and keeping mosquitos out. The lodge itself and its oldest bungalows, recently remodeled, were built at the bottom of the hill, near the river.

The luxurious Linda Vista Suites, high up in the rain forest canopy and with screened walls on three sides feels like being outdoors.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

It was a startling contrast indeed, to Nayara Springs Resort, in central Costa Rice. Approaching on a paved road near Avenal Volcano and greeted by a uniformed bell boy, we thought we’d made a wrong turn. But this popular vacation retreat only masquerades as a sophisticated hotel. Despite a few sumptuous suites – elegantly costumed and with private plunge-pools – all the rest, the swimming pools, shaded patios, bars, pubs, a spa and gym, restaurants, shops and a cafeteria were tucked away between lush greenery on a maze of serpentine paths. A five-minute walk beneath the trees – alive with resident birds and 30-odd sloths – was a stroll in the woods. And for a real stroll, guided walks toured the property and headed up toward Avenal Volcano and a dozen hot springs. Three nights was probably enough, though I could have stayed longer.

Nayara Springs Resort, near Arenal Volcano National Park, is centrally located for hiking, zip-lining, spelunking and mud bath treatments.

©Steve Haggerty/ColorWorld.

Heading west to the Pacific coast, we met our friends at Villa Manzu, a privately-owned two-story manor flanked by grassy lawns and trees, pools and patios. Intended for parties and anniversaries, it slept 24 guests and had a staff of 12 including a butler and three chefs. Located on five shady acres at the end of the road, it guaranteed privacy to deep pockets: Celebrities, tech-company CEOs, movie moguls and sports greats. We were lucky to have generous friends among them. Everything was included, from meals to fishing gear, and most important, Costa Rican hospitality.

TRIP TIPS:

THE LODGES (look for low-season discounts):
Finca Rosa Blanca – www.fincarosablanca.com/en: Double rooms start at $254 per night;
Pacuare Lodge: all-inclusive rates for three nights, for two in a bungalow start at $766;

Nayara Springs Resort: Bungalows for two start at $351;

Villa Manzu: All-inclusive rate for the entire house priced per night. Multiple guests, groups or families share the cost. Call for dates, availability and current prices.

GOING THERE: Fly into Juan Santamaria International Airport, in San Jose, the capital. For Villa Manzu, in Guanacaste Province, fly into Liberia Airport; the chauffeur does pickups.

My bio: Anne Z. Cooke writes about travel and its effect on global warming. Contact her at

tr*************@cs.com











; or Twitter at @anneontheroad.

©The Syndicator 2021, Anne Z. Cooke.

The post Costa Rica’s Big Experiment appeared first on Traveling Archive.