Pretty Little Birds

What makes a "good" vacation?

Today I rested. Looked at some pretty little birds, walked in the forest, hung out at the pool. Except for the bugs (no-see-ums, aka viciously biting sand flies), it was a pretty idyllic interlude.

And how long had that lasted? For the six days previous, I practiced yoga under the guidance of Suzie Hurley, a popular teacher of the Iyengar and Anusara yoga traditions. Stretched and strained, worked out kinks and instigated some new ones.

Suzie's students, many of whom had practiced together for decades, welcomed me into their community. We meditated, dined, hiked, and did Trikonasana (triangle pose) together.

The yoga venue was an outdoor pavilion at Iguana Lodge, a beach resort on the Osa Peninsula, on the Pacific side of Costa Rica. Temperature: 89F. Humidity: 77%, though it felt like 99%. Sweat saturated my clothes and dripped from my chin. Hot yoga? You bet. Come to Costa Rica.

Lessons were accompanied by the shrieks of macaws and barks of howler monkeys in the tall trees. An occasional black frigatebird dropped by our class.

Colorful macaws travel in pairs

The surroundings were bucolic, the physical work challenging. My torn knee shrieked as loud as the macaws, at least in my head. Arthritis in my cuneiforms (forefoot) forced me to try Adho Mukha Svanasana (downward-facing dog, an inverted V) on one foot. 

So it was sort of a working vacation. Another one of the yoga practitioners was "working" on her doctoral thesis after class. Relaxing? Hmm. Balanced, maybe.

After morning and afternoon yoga, I swam in the ocean. Especially exciting was floating on my back under pink-hued clouds as the sun dropped behind the trees. One morning, I swam toward a rainbow. I kept my body parts underwater to defeat the bugs (though the "golden threads" jellyfish got me).

We had plenty of time for field trips. Guide fees, taxis, tips, commissions added up. Why? Because--oh my goodness--the options were endless! Dolphin watching, kayaking in search of bioluminescence, bird-watching, zip-lining, rappelling from a tall tree. I hired guides three times to explore the rain forest and find toucans and tanagers, crocodiles and troops of spider monkeys. I spent a morning (5:30 am) among the tangled vines of Corcovado National Park and another morning (5:30 am) on jungle paths near my resort.

The guides carried scopes with powerful zoom lenses. The best guides spotted wildlife instantly and frequently, even when as far away as treetops. Within four or five seconds, they set up their scopes on tripods and invited us to see close-ups of ostentatiously decorated birds, lazy hanging sloths, and elusive iguanas. I saw my first tapir, my first agouti, my first caiman.

Mama spider monkey hanging upside down with baby clinging to her back

Another guide shepherded two of us to a Pacific beach in the Matapalo area and then along precarious cliffside trails to a refreshing swimming hole beneath King Luis waterfall.

Bountiful and beautiful. Strenuous, nevertheless. After six days of sweat and exertion, I needed a massage and a leisurely stroll in nature, with nothing to distract me but the occasional goddess or butterfly.

A languorous day of leisurely strolls and bright woven hammocks did wonders for winding down from the energetic week. A sun hat, some DEET to ward off no-see-ums, and a good nonfiction book (appropriately, "Hold the Enlightenment" by adventure writer Tim Cahill). Tonight, I pack up my damp t-shirts and prepare for departure.

Just another day in "paradise," surrounded by pretty little birds.