In the Clouds

For me, cloud forests always have something mystical, fairytale-like. This could be the home of fairies and elves who roam the forests on their unicorns.

Today we are heading to Monteverde. The cloud forests are on our plan.

From Manuel Antonio it is approximately 200 km to the Monteverde region. We set off on our journey early in the morning. On the way we see the workers driving their equipment to the palm oil plantations. These plantations, just like the pineapple fields, are both a blessing and a curse for the country. Monoculture and the use of pesticides spoil the soil and severely disrupt the fragile balance of Costa Rica's environment. But the world is greedy for palm oil and has an appetite for pineapples, and so even a country as environmentally conscious as Costa Rica can't help but accept the collateral damage that comes with its cultivation.

The landscape that passes us by is breathtaking. Sometimes I think that when God created paradise, he was right here in Costa Rica.

We make slow progress for the last hour of our journey. A height of 1300 meters has to be overcome on a very bad and narrow road. The view is fantastic. The fog rises from the forests. Green valleys are bordered by high mountains.

We reach Monteverde safely and Henry, our guide, greets us in bright sunshine. "Today is the first day of the dry season," he says, the weather is going to be great today. That's exactly what we wanted to hear. Here we go, the cloud forest is waiting. We start our hike after I, following Henry's advice, bought raincoats for myself and my husband. "If the weather is going to be great, why do I need raincoats, I think for a moment. But I don't have time to think about it any further. We want to go.

We immerse ourselves in this magical world of huge ferns and mossy trees. The fog drifts through the trees, the sun keeps breaking through the veil of clouds and sometimes I imagine that a little elf is about to cross our path. My reverie is repeatedly interrupted by Henry's explanations. We learn a lot about the cloud forest and venture further into this magical world.

One part of the forest is cordoned off with a green band. Here, explains Henry, several quetzals have been spotted and it is assumed that nests can be found here. The quetzal is probably the most beautiful bird in the world. With his beautiful plumage and his oversized tail, he is perfect for this fairytale forest. How I would love to see this pretty animal, but unfortunately the incredibly shy bird doesn't show itself to us.

We have now been on the road for more than two hours. The rain jackets were a good investment because there are always rain showers.

At a waterfall, our guide explains that the viewing platform we are standing on is made of recycled plastic. Why does no one in Germany come up with this idea of reusing plastic waste?

After three hours we leave the cloud forest with sore feet because the amount of walking was enormous.

We fortify ourselves in a small restaurant and Henry offers to accompany us to the Vista Verde Lodge, our accommodation for the night, to show us the way. He raves about how incredibly beautifully located the lodge would be, with fantastic views of the Arenal Volcano and Arenal Lake. We are happy and happy to take the muddy path riddled with potholes. When we get to the top, we initially see absolutely nothing. The sky opens its floodgates and the wall of rain seems impenetrable. Didn't our guide say the dry season begins today????

Henry says goodbye until tomorrow, when we want to visit the cloud forests of Santa Elena with their huge suspension bridges.

On our way to reception, a dog accompanies us and welcomes us happily.

However, something seems strange to us. Not a car is to be seen in the parking lot and the restaurant looks through the window as if it hasn't been used in years. We want to enter the reception, but none. The door is locked. We call and knock on every door, always accompanied by the dog, who dances excitedly around us and in his excitement does not realize that our friend's leg is not the rear end of a lady dog.

Some of the building's doors are open. What were once comfortable beds are now worn frames without mattresses. I have the uneasy feeling that this hotel, which I booked some time ago, is no longer in operation. In the nearby building, my husband finds two rooms in which the beds are actually made.

But where is the owner and his employees? The rain, which appears like a wall, brings back memories of some horror films I have seen. There's no way I'm going to spend the night here, even if I had a view of Mount Everest, thousands of kilometers away.

I want to go back to my paradisiacal villa in Manuel Antonio immediately. My colleagues see it similarly. So let's get out of here. We leave the dog sad and alone.

So we make our way home. Henry, our guide, assured us that he didn't know the hotel was closed. I can't quite believe him.

The return journey is long and the rain doesn't want to end. But we arrive “home” safely and fall into our beds dead tired. Tomorrow we'll be lazing around, that's for sure.

PS Of course I wrote a bitter email to the owner of the hotel.

He assured me that we had only missed each other by an hour and that his hotel was still in operation.