On the way to Uvita, we meet Esteban in the bus. A tall thin guy who speaks well seven different languages at least. He even talks to me in Japanese at some point! He is a drug dealer and he is going to Envision. Envision is The festival of the year in Costa Rica apparently. Ana and Valery, two volunteers from Cielo Verde, are also heading there independently to work and enjoy the festival. Envision is about Yoga, meditation, well-being and body expression and it is also about big electro music, loads of drinkings and flows of drugs, the whole experience with a 300 US$ entrance ticket, 140US$ for the locals. It is very expensive for everyone? Inside the festival, Esteban tells us, it is completely decadent so he is doing good business, even if just picking up what the people high on drugs drop is already quite a significant amount of it.

Envision is a strange mix where people have one face during the day and another at night. Hence in Uvita it is full to its maximum inside the hostels as the festival will be starting in a few days, it is full of people parading with thai elephants or mandala patterned tees, driving huge SUVs and dreadlocks-wearing youngs with expensive watches. A whole world of contradictory signals. Well-being, yoga and nature are fashionable these days, so everybody is on it and it creates a kind of superficiality that is very strange stuck between wearing the signs and actually living the way of life. Do you follow? I can't put my finger on it but there is something fake, something that doesn't ring with my own values in the way they behave. Thought everyone can express how they want of course and can wear whatever they feel like right? Because they are rich, should they be wearing ties and vests? I don't think so. Still something is off. I believe it is the deviated usage of this well-being world which should normally invite introspection, serenity, a kind of stripped down and simple sharing in order to mature and elevate one's own conscience in a kind of humble and joyous sobriety. A world which I feel like these people are surfing on, touching on without deep consequences within themselves and their own behaviors which always seem to let through the arrogant and basic consumer within them.

In short, Uvita is full to its brink so we end up following Esteban's advice and end up in the same hostel as him, a fairly shabby looking place, very sober indeed, held by a fairly nice old lady.

The day after we visit the local attraction, Bahia Ballena, a beach in the shape of a whale tail. We get to the park entrance where we are told that it is 6$. To visit a beach it is a little high for us. At the next door convenient store, Tom asks if there would be a way to get in without paying. Of course, it's that way. After a 30 minute walk under the scorching sun, we arrive on the beach and walk towards the strip of sand. It's beautiful but nothing extraordinary. We go back out by the main entrance while the guard is gone to the loo. Unseen, uncaught.

To leave the next day, no one around is able to inform us clearly about the bus times. It is quite weird, we normally always find a local who knows the times by heart. With no other choices, we go to the bus stop and start waiting. A French couple happens about, they are from South of France and start waiting too. They don't know more than us about the times but since we all need to take the bus anyway, we might as well already be at the bus stop. Pura Vida as they say around here. The conversation is easy. For a moment there I think "if "En attendant Godot" (Waiting for Godot") had been placed here in Costa Rica on a trail, the whole piece would have seen much less somber under the sun, the warmth and the life that is everywhere around us. With this couple, we have different styles of traveling, rolling suitcases for them whereas we have trecking backpackes, but they are as well looking for an enjoyable experience and good tips. In the end all the buses arrive at about the same time. They go up north and we go south-east.We think first to stop at Piedras Blancas, we saw on the internet that we could do some rafting there, seems nice. However, the more we go south, the more the landscape dries up and the water streams with them. Here the dry season is much more felt than in the center it seems. By bus, the landscape passes by fast and it is like a bit of Far West that spreads before our eyes. Bushes and trees which survive, yellow grass, horses grazing here and there the hardened plants and houses of steel roofs and wood, soemtimes with a few cracked walls which survive around a convenient store covered in advertisement. Sometimes a ferreteria or a stone seller happen about before us. Eventually we stop in the middle of the Far West in a huge city hub, full of dust whirlwinds that seemed to have grown out of nowhere. Rio Claro. We cram into a collectivo (a shared taxi) for Golfito. After the region we have just been through, the way to Golfito is the Riviera. Real stone houses, quite worked on, not necessarily beautiful with overusage of sculpted columns but it is ostentably rich around here. Afer a quick refreshing beer we are on the boat for Puerto Jimenez. The first boat of the trip, we cut through the waves, surrounded by jungle diving into the water. It feels great to find the sea air again after the choking warmth of the bus.

Arriving at Puerto Jimenez, we are tired but we need to look for a place to sleep. Tom finds one place but it is really expensive, I find a cheaper one but it is quite shabby. We hesitate, we fight on the travel principles and our budget. We find a compromise. We take the cheap room for the night and tomorrow we take the more expensive one. In the evening, it's pizza night next door. Puerto Jimenez is a nice place in my opinion, it gives off the impression that this is the far end of the world, of the Earth. Lots of locals even with the tourism. Tourists come here to trek the jungle so I guess it is a different kind of tourists here.

The day after we move into the nice room. Air conditionning, kitchen included, beautiful and private bathroom, cleanliness and even swimming pool. For sure compare to the evening before, between the spiders, the coakroaches and the dubious moisture of the room, the choice isn't hard. There are even kayaks that we can use for free. We end up on a two-seater kayak exploring the waters around. There is mangrove at the edges of the water and deep waters in the middle of the bay. It's as beautiful as it is kind of scary. I imagine the crocodiles living in the mangrove and the sharks feasting in the deep dark waters. Despite himself, Tom is also creeped out by my fears and as I relax enough to go into the river part, it is him who isn't so sure about going farther anymore. Still it is a nice time and we get to admire a whole lot of different local birds. Beautiful pelicanos making low passes over the water and small pipers running on the sand to the rythm of the waves. After we go back ashore, we start looking for a trek guide tomorrow for the Corvocado. It is so expensive! Near to a 100€ per person per day! But this time the debate is quick, we were told this park is extraordinary, the real deep jungle, it's worth it. We decide to take up cheaper rooms later to try and compensate the huge overspending. We walk around the streets as the sun sets down and we find a local guide office that we like. We're booked. Rendez-vous is fixed at 5:30am tomorrow in front of the bakery. We pass by a small airport on our way back. More like one landing strip in fact. Apparently, this kind of landing strips are fairly common in Costa Rica.The country is known for the very green policies they have with regards to energy and protecting land but paradoxically, the country is full of cars and little planes because the roads are crappy, people throw away they trash everywhere and recycling isn't much in usage. It seems a little as if the government had decided to get the country green but the people themselves had not followed nor change their behaviors accordingly. We enjoy our comfortable night and prep our stuff for the trek, the rest will leave by car, going around the park to Drake Bay, one of the additional costs that make it so expensive.

We cram into a mini-bus, all of us tourists and guides alike. 2-3 tourists per guide. Let's go for one hour on a road that starts in a relatively welcoming countryside to end up in the middle of the jungle on trails cut off by huge puddles until we get to a beach. Last stop, everyone out. Our guide's name is Thomas. Funny coincidence. He is tico (originally from Costa Rica) with indigenous origins. A former hunter, he became a guide when hunting was forbidden. He is an excellent guide and can notice small ad far-away animals effortlessly. On his back a backpack with a machete and an umbrella, the last seemingly weird in the middle of the jungle. He is equipped for everything? The twelve kilometers of our first day go by quick, we walk through the jungle, by the sea, with some walks on the beach. Walking on the beach, that's difficult after already a few hours on the legs and under the implacable sun. The rythm is fine and we are not wasting time. We need to get to the refuge before nightfall and in time for dinner too. We meet a resting puma, tons of different birds, flashy colored frogs, butteflies... Our guide also shows us plants and explains how the forest works. A plant used by the indigenous tribes for the rituals. Here we are tattoed for a couple of weeks. Tom with a nice puma print and me with a christian cross, to protect me I guess. He did ask if i believed in God. Feeling a bit awkard I said i was Buddhist (completely false but probably truer than me being a Christian for sure) because he had already started on his cross. Anyhow with my black Tee adorned with a stylish white skull, it will give a kind of gothic look - as if I am trying to hide my cutter marks with a blue tattoo ending up with a cross. Anyhow. Nothing to do with Manuel Antonio here, the jungle kills if you don't pay attention. Our guide Thomas is very nice in addition to being a well of knowledge. We lauch a lot. On the way, we meet a group of English girls and their guide. They seem to be having a hard time. Thomas the guide rapidly becomes their favourite. Later on, Tom, of Tom & Ariane this time, wtruck with a weird cheesy romantic fever case and having gone a bit ahead of us, draws on the beach a huge heart with A+T inside. Yes he did. I of course completely miss the drawing but Thomas, the guide this time, seeing that I did not, takes a picture and shows me Tom's beautiful artwork. Still following? Anyhow, when on a break, the English girls catch up with us and they are laughing and smiling, convinced that the T in the heart is the one of Thomas the guide of course. We say nothing and all three of us laugh it off later. They harrass her to know who is the mysterious A and if she is her girlfriend and all. Tom becomes Patrick and me Michelle for the duration of the joke when finally, we glance at the refuge. 

Located in a huge clearing surrounded by the jungle.It is a beautiful wooden building, raised up above the ground and very open everywhere which makes me think about a Japanese monastery which corridors without walls link the different areas. It is like a little island in the middle of the virgin forest linked to the world by a small landing strip (one more), which is just a space of free green field with deep trenches dug by the landings of the only pilot mad enough to this. He does seem a little mad, the pilot, when we meet him. We are sleeping in a dormitory, eat in the canteen and share the bathroom with all the visitors. It feels a bit like the organised holidays when we were kids. The place is open everywhere, no walls except on the small accomodation for the permanent people here and the kitchen.. The dormitories are opened to the four winds, the bunk beds are protected with mosquito nets. When night falls, we here the howling monkeys first, their cries hearable several kilometers around. Then night falls and everyone in its bed can here the jungle life alive and swarming readlly close. You can hear animal cries going from high pitch to low, some that would fit nicely in a horror movie. You feel small and fragile in the bed, separated from the inferno of the biting insects by only a very small and thin net. Small cocoon of humans in the middle of the magnificent and hostile nature.

4:30am. Time to wake up and go for a walk in the middle of night and jungle. We meet tapirs, a whole family. They are so close, it's fascinating. We walk around for the day, looking for animals and following Tom the hunter through the jungle. The day before we meet a French couple at dinner. She became a teacher and he is still working in the TV industry. Their kids are grown ups and they are traveling by themselves during their holidays. We talk about traveling and life in general. We find them again around a trail and talk about the animals we meet and continue discussing our lives and projects. I remember the conversation being warm and kind. In the middle of the jungle, in the wooden monastery, we coudl remake the world together and agree on it with total strangers I believe because being human here is out of place and that makes us feel like we need to stay together, to unite.

We also meet a super-well-equipped Englishman who is walking around the jungle with a guide. He comes from Drake Bay, his wife stayed with their few-months old twins over there. They have to take turns for the activities they do and do others with the babies with it's possible. Impressive.

The last day, we walk briskly through the jungle hoping to see a crocodile. Tom and Tom end up with water up to their knees in a river. Tom the guide tells the other Tom not to worry and that there is no danger. In the end we go back to the beach where we wait to embark in small boats that will take us to Drake Bay.

The trek is over. In the end, it was really a one-day trek and then one and a half day of walking around the area. Retropspectively, we could have done the whole thing in two days only but we did see a lot of things and the feeling of being in the middle of gens of kilometers of forest is undescribable. At the beach, Tom the guide and I race Bernard L'hermite. 

And as the Tom's champion wins easily, our English friend comes to see us and tell us that a bit further there is a alligator and her spawn that are taking a sunbath near a little pond. Last animals to be seen before our little flat boats take us fast to Drake Bay.

There, to be sure and knowing the small size of the place, we have booked a tent on a platform near an inn. After a last beer and a good ceviche with Tom the guide, we leave for our tent. Drake Bay is one dusty street, some inns, some restaurants and some adventure trip organizers. On the beach, there is a white horse that is hanging out strolling around as if it just came out of the waves. Everybody is laughing. After a good day of rest, we leave by boat for other shores!