There's one sure way to ruin any new experience in your life and that is to go in with expectations. Going on an adventure into the wild I can prepare the gear and make sure I arrange certain things that can be arranged, but nature is unpredictable, animals don't care about my plans and dreams. It takes a lot to leave all of my expectations and wishes in the trash can on my way out, but I try my best to do it. In Costa Rica I managed to do that just fine and was wide-eyed and happy to absorb all the wonderful and awe-inspiring things that surrounded me. I remember the contrast between the red earth and the silvery-green pineapple plants in the numerous fields we passed. We didn't stop near them, but that color combination is still stuck in my brain. I also remember how much fun it was to ride along the busted up country roads. In some places the ditches were as big as the car itself. At one point we crossed a stream, driving over a bridge that consisted of only a couple of narrow beams. Don't know how Michael managed to guide the wheels onto the beams and not into the gap between them, but it only added to the feeling of adventure. Along the drive Michael, who has extensive experience in extreme driving also gave me a couple of tips I still use today.

The closer we got to our final destination, the denser and larger the vegetation got. We were all warned that at the lodge there was no phone reception or Internet connection and the nearest hospital was 30-40 clicks away back up the bumpy road we took to get here. So we were instructed to take care and not injure ourselves. Laguna Del Lagarto lodge occupied a hill top. At the foot of the hill there were several ponds which, I guess, gave the lodge its name. These ponds were occupied by very healthy and happy caimans, some of which were quite large.

The road to the lodge lay on a narrow patch between these ponds and we were encouraged not to go down there in the evenings alone as the caimans liked to rest there like sentries, forming a very formidable roadblock and locking us in for the night. The local guys said the animals were used to humans and you could even grab them by the tail, but I never got to test that claim. The banks of these ponds were inhabited by the basilisk lizards, another favorite of mine. And birds, everywhere you looked there were birds, and the air was filled with their voices.

The territory of the lodge was cleared from the jungle, but as soon as the groomed lawns ended, a wall of wild and free vegetation arose. The lodge itself and the scenery I loved, our living quarters - not so much. The rooms were small and got very hot and humid very quickly. There was a table fan nailed to the wall in the one I shared with another person from our group. After the first night I decided that this wasn't going to work for me. We were working very hard and a good night's rest wasn't an option, it was a necessity. We had a large common terrace just beyond our rooms with lots of hammocks that noone used. So the very next night I grabbed my sheet, pillow and blanket and moved it all outside. I can honestly say that sleeping in a hammock in the open air with the sounds of the jungle around me and the black velvet and diamond skies above me was one of the best experiences in my life. Yes, I had to tie my shoes up where creepy crawlies couldn't make a home out of them and I had to get up earlier than everyone else to have time to get dressed before anyone came out and saw me, but it was worth it.

There it became a habit of mine to climb into my snug hammock every evening after dinner, swinging gently, a glass of rum in my hand, maybe a cigarillo in the other (somehow their tobacco tasted better than it did in less humid conditions), and either listen to Pink Floyd or the jungle before settling down for the night. Bats criss-crossed the air above me, coatis marched past me on their morning route, my lungs were breathing in the hot and humid air I could eat with a spoon and I was at peace, I was happy. It felt so good and so right. Thirty years ago in Grenada I lay in my crib in surroundings much like this, cooing at the birds and lizards around me, but I have no memories of that Paradise Lost, my body does, though, on a physiological level, but I really needed something on a more conscious level. Now, in Costa Rica, I was filling up the gaps with missing peaces I very much needed. Smokes and booze were a new addition, but Pink Floyd was something that remained from the days of my earliest childhood when at the age of two months I first heard that surreal music and was hooked. Thanks, dad. No, really, thanks.

One more thing deserves an honorable mention. It added so much flavor to my overall experience that it definitely deserves a few words. The shower. Ah, the Costa-Rican shower turned out to be a small quest in its own right. There was no shower mixer and the water had to be heated by a contraption with an exposed heating coil. One wrong move, a careless wave of a wet hand and you could get electrocuted. Once the hot water started pouring over you, there was no way to add cold water and regulate the temperature - no mixer, remember? So I had two choices - shower with ice-cold water which was pumped up directly from an artesian well or scorch my skin with boiling hot water and do my best not to get fried into a crisp. Alternating between the two was tiresome and annoying, so I sometimes grit my teeth and just used the cold water alone. If you think that in the tropic heat you don't need hot showers, you couldn't be more wrong. Shower time gave me such an emotional boost that I couldn't help but cuss. To spare the ears of my neighbors I opted for cussing in Russian, but the guys could still tell that I was not an entirely happy camper in those instances.

I have a very high tolerance for discomfort while travelling as long as I have a nice place to rest and access to water for washing up. Here I took matters into my own hands with the sleeping arrangements and the shower part I just had to not care about since nothing could be done. In any case, the place was beautiful, the wildlife - abundant and the food - great. Everything else paled in comparison. Our day started very early, before the first light, and ended way into the late evening. Many things to photograph were found at the lodge itself, but we did venture into the jungle. We had our breakfast on a spacious terrace. In front of it the lodge owners dug in a tall pole with a cross beam. This cross beam was carefully selected for beautiful moss and plants growing on it because this was where the birds would land for us to observe and shoot. At the cross section itself hands of bananas were tied to lure in the feathered free-loaders. The number of birds and the diversity was astonishing and the changes in weather also provided us with a variety of conditions for the shoots. 

Imagine sitting there, eating your breakfast, enjoying the cool morning and the soft light when all of a sudden a keel-billed toucan lands just a few feet away from you. There was a pair of these birds, one had a distinct chip in its magnificent beak. These toucans came quite often and caused quite a stir every time. There was another group of people on a photography workshop, sixteen of them in one group. When every one rushed to shoot the bird and all the flashes were going off at the same time they blew out a lot of shots. There was just so many times when the image was plain white because of the extra flashes that I was secured in my dislike for large group tours. Fortunately, we didn't brush elbows with these guys too often.

Some birds didn't come to the feeder, but still hung around. The chestnut-mandible toucan seemed to favor the lawn and getting it while it was perched up on a branch turned into a bit of a challenge.

Even the Lineated woodpecker came a-calling, though this female kept her distance and was not very curious about all the commotion.

The parrots and parakeets were numerous, the smaller ones swarmed the feeder, causing all kinds of trouble, while the larger rummaged through the nearby trees in the evenings. The little Orange-chinned and the slightly larger Brown-hooded parrots were a noisy and rambunctious bunch. The large and strong Red-lored parrots were a bit more reserved, never appearing in good light, but always flying in when the sunlight was almost completely gone. The loud Green macaws could often be heard as they were nesting nearby and I even saw them in flight a couple of times, but they never came in for a photo shoot.

The terrace itself served as an observation point as wildlife was flowing from all sides and at all levels in order to get their own piece of the banana pie. The bananas were stored under the terrace and coatis were constantly prowling nearby, waiting for their chance to cash in on the fruit free-for-all. But the staff of the lodge were very strict with them and would chase them off as soon as they showed their faces. Much like their Northern relatives, the raccoons, the coatis were amusing, but pesky neighbors. We much preferred the birds, and boy did we have a handful of those! Even the Great Curassows graced the lawns with their presence. Two large elegantly dressed in black males trailed a few more elaborately colored females.

At the side of the terrace was a smaller feeder where the less pushy little birds could grab a bite in peace. Surprisingly, even a chestnut-colored woodpecker came to check out the fruit. Apparently, every animal in Costa Rica is happy to eat bananas.

TO BE CONTINUED....