Donna and I visited Costa Rica to celebrate a milestone birthday for Donna and a milestone anniversary for the two of us. We had never been to Central America and decided to go beyond our comfort zone.
The resort we stayed in was in the southwestern part of the country, on the Pacific Ocean and in the middle of a rain forest, adjacent to a national park.
Our room sat atop a three level building, with two units on each floor.
A large balcony wrapped around the room, giving us amazing views of the ocean and magnificent sunsets to the west and the lush, dense rain forest, which came right to our railing, to the north.
Around five pm on our second day we spotted a monkey gamboling around the treetops -- a rare sighting, we surmised. Soon he was joined by the rest of his tribe, about seven in number.
They quickly targeted us, and morphed from cute little furry objects of affection to angry, threatening hoodlums. Likewise, we transformed from photographers to combatants trying to hold our ground. I told Donna to retreat to the safe side of the sliding glass door -- I would handle this.
One primate -- the leader -- was about three feet away from our railing and looking at me with bad intent. Another was on the drain spout behind me, while still others were milling about, in tree limbs or vines, and on the balcony below ours. I could feel a mugging coming on. The leader was positioning himself to launch at me and, I believe, rip my face off with his teeth and claws. I'm sure the others would have joined the melee.
I waved my arms and shouted at the thug like a crazy person. He stared at me like a guilty conscience, unfazed. He bared his razory teeth at me, but finally backed down. Victory to the humans. Or so I thought.
The next day, upon our return from breakfast, we discovered to our dismay that in our absence the gang leader had exacted his revenge. The little bugger had ransacked the coffee station on our balcony, tearing open and scattering the contents of coffee and tea packets, somehow turned on the sink faucet, shit on the beautiful tiled floor, and left his grim calling card in the form of his handprint on the sliding glass door. I could only tip my hat to our worthy, dastardly foe.
The resort we stayed in was in the southwestern part of the country, on the Pacific Ocean and in the middle of a rain forest, adjacent to a national park.Our room sat atop a three level building, with two units on each floor.
A large balcony wrapped around the room, giving us amazing views of the ocean and magnificent sunsets to the west and the lush, dense rain forest, which came right to our railing, to the north. Around five pm on our second day we spotted a monkey gamboling around the treetops -- a rare sighting, we surmised. Soon he was joined by the rest of his tribe, about seven in number.
They quickly targeted us, and morphed from cute little furry objects of affection to angry, threatening hoodlums. Likewise, we transformed from photographers to combatants trying to hold our ground. I told Donna to retreat to the safe side of the sliding glass door -- I would handle this.
I waved my arms and shouted at the thug like a crazy person. He stared at me like a guilty conscience, unfazed. He bared his razory teeth at me, but finally backed down. Victory to the humans. Or so I thought. The next day, upon our return from breakfast, we discovered to our dismay that in our absence the gang leader had exacted his revenge. The little bugger had ransacked the coffee station on our balcony, tearing open and scattering the contents of coffee and tea packets, somehow turned on the sink faucet, shit on the beautiful tiled floor, and left his grim calling card in the form of his handprint on the sliding glass door. I could only tip my hat to our worthy, dastardly foe.
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