Paradise Found

Here I am with another tale of a "paradise" -- or what most people would consider a paradise -- that for me has ups and downs, ins and outs, and pesky little things that perforate my pleasure.

Pros: Costa Rica is beautiful. I am here for yoga and meditation, which is blissful. The food is scrumptious, all fish and mimosas, mangoes and scones. Swimming in the warm, peaceful ocean uplifts my soul and offers the comforting illusion that I'm toning my thighs.

Cons: The tropics are hot and humid. Hot yoga? No other choice if you're doing it outside like we are. The sand on the beach is hot enough to fry an egg and turn your tender toes into hot tamales. There are mosquito nets over the beds (think large holes) but it's the no-see-ums that bite (requires smaller holes). Allergy-prone? Fuggedaboutit.

We arrived on the Osa Peninsula by 12-passenger plane. (Fun.) And 4-wheel-drive vans over sandy roads.

Villas at the Iguana Lodge are spaced out in the verdant jungle among giant coconut palms and dirt paths. Most rooms are open verandas with insect nets over the beds. My roommate Ann and I snagged one of the two air-conditioned villas ($100 per night MORE than the other rooms). All rooms have views of the sandy beach on Osa Bay, which flows into the Pacific Ocean.

Bathrooms are open to the jungle's beetles, butterflies and bees. It's hot and steamy in the bathrooms. (Did I mention they are open to the jungle?)

Flora: what you might expect. Abundant and colorful. (Who can resist pictures of pretty flowers?) Overgrown. Tarzan-and-the-Apes vines for swinging.

Fauna: howler monkeys and macaws are restless and noisy from 4 am until sunrise at 6 am. Or so I hear. I remain ensconced in my air-conditioned berth until 6:45 am, and pop out just in time for 7:00 meditation. The sun has warmed things up by then. 

Maybe by the end of the week I'll get up in time for the early-morning sound and light show. Meanwhile, there are geckos and butterflies flitting around all day.

The kitchen staff at Iguana Lodge pleases the senses with mahi mahi and ginger sauce, coconut rice, cheese tortillas, grilled pineapple, and sumptuous brunches. Not to mention cocktails with green lemon slices and red hibiscus blossoms on top. The placemats are cut from very big palm leaves.

So what's not to like, I hear you asking.

Sweat, sweat, sweat. Everything sticky with humidity (e.g., slippery wood floors and never-dry towels). Washing clothes in the sink every day, because no one outside of Downton Abbey can carry enough luggage to change into fresh dry clothes three times a day. Red hot sand. Itchy skin from salt-water swims. Itchy, blotchy thighs and ankles from pesky little biting sand flies, also known as no-see-ums. (THIS is the reason why all those gorgeous deserted beaches on gorgeous deserted islands continue to be deserted, in my opinion.) Stuffy noses and sneezes for several yoga students (including me) from the many assaults on the senses.

Also: there's nothing to do in the heat of the day. (Unless you're a staunchly sun-loving Floridian.) From 11 am-3 pm, the options are limited. It's best to just have a lemonade on the veranda, peruse a book in the shade, or nap in a hammock under a coconut tree. In my case, nap in my room. (Did I mention I paid for the air conditioning option?) 

And catch up on my neglected blog.

Well, all right. I'll admit that those naps are pretty nice. And that maybe this "paradise" is not such a terribly annoying place, after all. Not perfect, no. But as long as I can practice yoga, swim in the ocean, eat well, and retire into a cool, dry room now and then, well... guess I'll take it.