In which Layla and Roz sample beers, see storytelling dance, and don't want to leave Portland

By Layla

It's always horrifying to be on the last day of a holiday - we teeter on a knife edge between holiday delight... And morose. So we're always keen to have a full day of fun planned. We jumped out of bed and headed off on the bus to a different part of the trail in Forest Park. The sky was a brilliant blue, there was no sign of the humidity we knew was awaiting us back home, and we walked through the beautiful, forest trail trying to allow delight to triumph over morose. We had lunch in the Clearing Cafe, a delightful little spot with some particularly delicious sandwiches (and cake... Ahem), and then on the bus down to the waterfront. We settled down sleepily in the sun with our books and all was serene for about 20 minutes... Until suddenly an adjacent vigorous sprinkler sprung into life and we were unexpectedly showered with freezing water! Leaping in confused alarm to our feet, we decided this wasn't the perfect reading spot after all. 

We climbed up and over a bridge over the river, destination: beer tasting mini-tour! Sure we'd done the wine tasting, but Portland is really known for its craft beers, with more breweries in the city than in the whole rest of America combined (I think). No sooner had we come off the bridge, one of the coolest of these was staring us in the face (no, of course I wasn't surprised, it was just impeccable planning). We went into Hair of the Dog, which was bustling with tourists like us and locals sprawling across the outdoor tables, with their bikes. We hopped up to the bar and ordered a tasting flight each. We got four little glasses of their different beers, some of which were very nice but none of which got us especially thrilled. Then, following a cool website I'd found, we went past the Green Dragon brewery 'with our noses in the air' and headed to the more quirky Cascades Brewery, known for its sour beers. Sour beers was not really a concept I'd encountered, so, perched at another cool and attractive bar, we ordered an array of tiny glasses, and were quite excited. These were no generic beers. They were fruity but not like a standard fruit beer. They were tangy, and delicate, and surprising. Both of us particularly loved the honey ginger lime beer and were prepared to order vast quantities to take home, only to find - to our distress - that it doesn't transport. Something to do with the honey addition process. It couldn't be bottled. We ordered another glass, drank it alongside some delicious honey bread, and then headed home, wanting more. 

We'd meant to go out for dinner on our last night and indeed had identified a delicious-sounding Lebanese restaurant. But Roz and I were both reading The Girl With All the Gifts and were both so compelled that we ended up staying in to devour that instead (and pasta). But we eventually had to drag ourselves away, get on a bus, and head downtown to yet another huge, beautiful and full theatre. This was our wildcard booking: Ira Glass and Two Dancers. Ira Glass hosts This American Life, essentially a storytelling show on NPR. Radio stories and dance may not have appeared to be natural bedfellows, but the show was wonderful and touching and interesting and sweet, funny, unexpectedly lovely. Hooray for Roz's pre-holiday booking extravaganza. What a great week for seeing amazing shows!

When the curtain fell, we were absolutely not ready to say goodbye to our holiday. So we caught the bus back to Cascades and got more honey ginger lime beer, and a tasty cheese plate to accompany it. At 11:30 we grudgingly caught the bus home and even more grudgingly set our alarm clocks to 6:30am. Portland, you were brilliant and if I could live there, I would. One of the very best places in America I've encountered and a delightful holiday. 

Books Roz read on holiday: The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer, Room by Emma Donoghue, The Moon Field by Judith Allnatt, Mrs Hemmingway by Naomi Wood, and The Girl with All the Gifts by MR Carey. Plus some progress into & Sons by David Gilbert and A Place of Greater Safety by Hilary Mantel. 

Books Layla read on holiday: The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer, Perfect by Rachel Joyce, Room by Emma Donoghue, Tell the Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rifka Brunt, The Girl with All the Gifts by MR Carey, a small amount of progress into DC Confidential by Christopher Meyer and a couple of tentative pages into The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton.  

In which Roz and Layla vanish into a downtown rainforest and farmland... And Layla loses at shuffleboard

By Roz

By Roz

Next morning we were very keen to give our legs a rest, given the previous three days had involved cycling. So we decided to go for a hike. Logical. There's a giant forest in the mountains on the edge of a Portland, called Forest Park. Eight times bigger than Central Park or some such, it has 70 miles of hiking trails and is accessible by bus. Did I mention how much I love Portland with its brilliant outdoorsyness accessible by public transport?!  So we hopped on the bus from out area and half an hour later were deposited outside a lovely cafe (where we bought lunch for later and a coffee and a muffin for now) and the set off. And oh it was lovely! Within a few minutes we were deep in the forest and it felt inconceivable that there could be coffee nearby. The path was rolling (alas, flat is always preferable!) and we felt as though we were in the middle of a rainforest. We walked along the Wildwood Trail for five or so miles and then found ourselves in the Audubon Society's conservation area, which we meandered round and then sat to eat half our lunch. Incongruously we decided that this was the moment for a vigorous debate about where we should live on our return to London (the outcome will shock you all!) and we continued the debate for a few more miles till we found ourselves near an historic mansion (it might have even been 50 years old!) where we stopped for the rest of lunch and to refill our water bottles. Continuing on a for a little way, and still marveling at how few people were out (but I guess it was a Thursday) we ended up in the Japanese Garden and International Rose Garden. The former is famous for its peace and serenity, and I am sure it must be lovely sans tourists. Alas we didn't get that experience - it was the first place we have been to in Portland that has felt touristy: we even ended up queuing to see a particularly serene rock. Having attempted to read in various spots in the garden, we retreated and headed without much hope to the International Rose Garden. This proved to be an excellent place: created during the First World War to respond to fears that all European roses might be destroyed (and thus containing one of every variety of European rose) it was everything I had hoped the Japanese Garden would be...and it had ice cream. We settled down with our books on a shady bit of grass and felt very pleased with our day. 

Layla then finished her book (always a difficult moment for the person who is still going strong with their book(!) and doesn't want to stop reading) and caught a bus back to the area where we are staying. We stopped off in a very nice bar with a beer garden and had a local beer and ate chips and salsa and continued to read (Layla found something new, thank goodness!). Then home to watch Orange is the New Black before dinner. After dinner we headed out to the very beautiful Hollywood Cinema, in an area north of our flat which we hadn't been to before.  Built in the 1920s it was recently renovated and now shows a mix of films (some voted on by the local audience). We were there to see Clueless (don't judge us!) and had rather anticipated being the only people there (not least since the film started screening at 9.30). But no, there was a huge number of eager Portlandians, some dressed up specially,   and a surprising sense of anticipation and excitement. I loved it! The film was jolly (and audience comment always makes me chuckle) and all in all we left the cinema loving Portland just that little bit more. 

Next morning, after some prevaricating, we finally settled on a plan of cycling round Sauvie Island. This was a plan that had been recommended by our nice bike guide who had taken us to the Gorge. We therefore went into town, stopping to pick up coffee and lunch, hired bikes and made our way - with some trepidation - to the bus stop. Neither of us has ever put a bike on the front of a bus before and it turns out that this was not a skill that you can pick up on the first attempt. But the bus driver was bizarrely nice, and came off the bus to show us what to do (amusingly reaching through the bus window to put the handbrake on!). 40 minutes and a very nice chat with the bus driver later, we were at the end of the line and in Sauvie island. It turns out to be a rural area with lots and lots of farms and with a few beaches and a very nice road going round it. We hopped on to that road and started cycling. But soon we were tempted by an attractive looking farm and stopped off for honey, cherries and dried apples (there's nothing like remembering when you are in the middle of nowhere that you've run out of honey at home to make a wife cross when she has to carry it for the rest of the day!). Back on the road, we cycled through very attractive (disconcertingly almost English-looking) countryside with farms and so forth. But there was no sign of a beach or anywhere to eat lunch. We consulted our phones.  We asked random people. The end result was more cycling. Eventually, and much to my relief, we came to a very pleasant beach. We deposited our bikes, ate lunch, watched a child playing football with his father (World Cup has turned Americans into football fans!) and read our books. I dozed and it was all very pleasant until we suddenly felt too hot and so set off on our bikes again to finish off the loop. Half way along we were in dire need of water and the numerous farms we had passed on the first half of our cycle had suddenly disappeared (it seemed we were now on the posh side of the island!). Eventually, we saw a sign for blueberries, and followed it and found two chatty old ladies, cherries and water. We bought water, picked some cherries and escaped the old ladies. Back on the road, the bus stop turned out to be closer than we had thought...and just by it a previously unnoticed shop with ice cream. A happy conclusion to a very pleasant cycle. We put our bikes on the bus almost like pros and settled ourselves down for our return journey. 

Having dropped off the bikes we returned home for dinner, and then went straight out again to go to a comedy show. The comedians were very good, though our lack of TV knowledge meant we certainly missed stuff. After all, I am pretty sure that I am the only person in the audience who had to think for a few minutes to work out what SNL stands for... After the comedy we went to the backstage bar at the Baghdad Theatre to play shuffleboard. Layla had deteriorated in shuffleboard skill since last time we played, which was most satisfactory, and made for a good end to the day! 

In which Layla and Roz hide from rain with dragons, play with dinosaurs, and enjoy Moth victory

When we awoke on Monday morning it was clear it was not going to be sunny... Undeterred, we donned raincoats and headed out in the drizzle to Mount Tabor Park, winding hiking trails around a little dormant volcano. No sooner had we got to the top, rain so torrential that it felt like we were underwater blasted from the heavens while we attempted shelter under a tree with some joggers and dog walkers... Luckily it went off and we had a lovely walk, and were just headed for lunch when the heavens opened again - impossibly even heavier than before! 

We grabbed a bus as soon as we could and took refuge in another delicious healthy lunch bowl place where we had lunch til the rain abated, and went for a potter in the funky shops of Hawthorne Street before retiring to Powells bookshop cafe for a currant scone and a hot chocolate, just as a new episode of rain, exceeding the others, was delivered! Our subsequent rapid dash across the road to the Baghdad Theatre cinema was thus rendered an expedition of rainforest proportions. We spent the rest of the afternoon in this brilliant, beautiful old theatre watching How to Train Your Dragon 2 - not so much a choice as the only thing on, but it was surprisingly good. Though Roz, who is not good with peril, spent the whole thing in high tension, peeking at the screen from between her fingers. Which made the film even more amusing (for me and the many calm children sat around us...).

That night we had dinner at home, then went to a book reading at Powells by a (deservedly) obscure author, and finished the evening in a cool bar that served cheesecake. 

Tuesday was cycling day! We hired bikes down by the river and cycled about 22 miles, first around the waterfront near town, which was cool and scenic and industrial, then down the Springwater trail which was pleasant though unexciting. On the way back, after a superlative sandwich in a village bakery, with the sky looking ominous, we parked our bikes and went to OMSI, the science museum. Small but fun, and almost entirely hands-on, we played like children, and admired the quite cool dinosaur exhibition (with moving dinosaurs) before returning our bikes and heading home for dinner. 

That evening was one of the planned highlights of our trip: The Moth! The Moth is the grandfather of storytelling shows, the biggest, probably best, and certainly most famous of the genre. And it was on in Portland! The venue, The Holocene, was cool, the show was sold out, and we scored great seats. The format is a "story slam", aka a tournament of people telling stories and three sets of audience judges awarding points. I put my name in the hat to tell a story... Then spent the first half of the show tensed to the point of discomfort as I tried to enjoy the show and not anticipate whether my name would be called next. Then, right after the interval, it happened! I got up to the stage, told my story, and all three judges gave me 9.7 out of 10! I got to relax and enjoy the rest of the show, and at the end, I was officially designated the Moth StorySLAM winner! I could not have been more excited. We walked home to bed, bubbling with delight. 

On Wednesday, we were off on another bike tour, this one to the famous Columbia Gorge. We were astounded at how beautiful this place is. Just about a 40 minute drive from Portland, there's this huge, wonderful area of hills and waterfalls and a big river centerpiece. They've built a pretty road that winds through it, with stops every mile or so to climb up little trails to amazing waterfalls. We cycled along the road, stopping several times for delightful little hikes, and photographing a lot of waterfalls. Absolutely the highlight of our trip so far. 

Back in Portland, we lunched like the locals, ie buying a lunch bowl from one of the hundreds of excellent food carts, and then, with the sun incongruously making an appearance, set off on another adventure: paddleboarding! This turned out to be our most stressful paddleboarding experience to date because the paddleboard place was about a quarter mile from the water. We were given a board and a paddle and 2 wheels on which to balance them. So began the sort of sequence you'd see in fast forward in a slapstick movie as Roz and I tried to navigate them out of the shop, down the street, across railway lines, along a path in a park, and down to a jetty, from which, alone, we launched our boards. Success! The actual time on the water was a delight. It was beautifully still, beautifully sunny, and had beautiful scenery, around Ross Island, which is full of birds. At one point we even lay down on our paddleboards to sunbathe on the water...

Alas all good things come to an end and after lots of maneuvering and cursing, we eventually got the boards back to the shop and headed back into town having amazingly acquired a bit of sunstroke! We cooled off in a Ben and Jerry's shop, and did some Capital Fringe publicity as the tickets for our shows next month have just gone on sale. Then we had another healthy tasty bowl for dinner, and headed to yet another beautiful Portland theatre, to see yet another sold out show: we both love how Portland dwellers are such committed theatre goers! Five a Years Later was a quite good musical about a relationship going wrong. Into grossly, given how this blog began, w e were still a bit sunstrokey, and stumbled home to bed soon afterwards. 

In which Layla and Roz meet Stumptown leprechauns and Layla is a sporting goddess

By Layla

I have but one childhood memory of Oregon: that old educational computer game The Oregon Trail. By the time I arrived in Portland Oregon on Wednesday, I felt I'd pretty much traveled that whole trail, though instead of carts I had planes, and instead of going via the MidWest I went via London to sit an exam. By the time I arrived downtown, nearly 24 hours after I awoke that morning, I felt I'd traversed some major geography!

The first of my two days in Portland don't count. That's because Roz was there for work, and I was doing consulting work in the hotel room, so fun was not on the cards. Though come evening time, we managed to steal a little pre-holiday fun, strolling to the cool and attractive Pearl District near downtown to eat at Andina, a stellar Peruvian restaurant with a special vegetarian menu and Oba, a delicious Mexican restaurant, to pop into Powells, America's largest bookshop, and to watch Chinese Puzzle, a French film set in New York, at the very lovely Living Room cinema. We weren't on holiday yet... But our sneak peaks told us that Portland is cool, attractive, quirky, and is going to be brilliant. 

On Friday, we finished our respective work, then glanced at each other in excitement: our week-long Portland vacation was here! We celebrated with healthy and delicious Indian food in a yoga studio (very Portland), before traveling away from touristed downtown to our home for the next week: the heart of the Hawthorne District. Our little AirBnB apartment is charming and in a really cool location. We immediately went grocery shopping like locals, pressed our noses up agains the window of a local branch of Powells and thought: oh yes, we could live here. That night we strolled down Hawthorne Street, past a thousand fabulous-looking restaurants, to a show at the Helium Comedy Club and reveled in this cool, quirky, friendly city full of quirky things to do. And finished the night with Ben and Jerry's ice cream. Because life is delightful. 

The following day, after a morning coffee in Powells and an embarrassing level of transport/mobile nerdery (you can buy week-passes on your phone and the app holds your ticket - which indeed we did), we caught the bus into town. After a stroll around the waterfront Saturday Market (where I bought a ring for Roz) we proceeded to the bike shop. In an effort to officially transform Work Portland into Holiday Portland, we had booked a bike tour of the local wineries. This was lots of fun. We drove into the suburban countryside and then pedaled along past various fields and grapevines and cows to three different vineyards where we partook in wine tasting. Oregon is known for its Pinot noir wines, so we sampled lots of them. It was an odd little trip: not really the bucolic vistas one expects of wine tours, but rather semi-suburban fields. It was still fun though, especially when one of the vineyards brought out the cheese!

We headed home for dinner, and then on a nearly hour-long bus to North Portland because going to normal tourist hotspots is not what you have come to expect of us. No no, we were headed into the wilds, to an arts venue called Disjecta where Roz had identified a storytelling show called Russian Roulette, where storytellers spin a wheel to be given a story topic which they have to prepare in just 5 minutes, then perform. I had serious misgivings as we walked up the dodgy street, suspecting we might be the only audience members. But when we got there, Roz was exceptionally smug: it was sold out! The show was fantastic - I loved the format. And the beer (Portland has the most craft breweries in the country and is obsessed by its beers). And the pizza. Ahem... Afterwards we caught a bus back to civilization, along with an array of late night Portland party-goers, and sneaked home to bed. 

It is always disheartening to be met with rain and chill on holiday. And yet that was yesterday's offering. Portland is known for its raininess but still, we felt cheated. Roz started the day with a local yoga class, then we caught a bus downtown, raincoats in hand, for some superlative coffee and the Secrets of Portlandia free walking tour. I loved this tour, even though parts of it were executed in torrential rain... We walked all over downtown while our tour guide explained why Portland is unique, and claims the title 'weird'. Some highlights: Portland is called Stumptown because when it was founded they cut down lots of trees but couldn't get rid of the stumps so they were all over town. Portland invented the world naked bike ride. Portland had America's first female police officer. And over half of Portland businesses are owned by women. The town is full of cute drinking fountains called Benson Bubblers as a cool public health intervention by Mr Benson, an early factory owner who realized his workers kept chopping off their fingers more on hot days - because they were hydrating with beer! When hawks made their nest in a skyscraper balcony and the office workers tried to remove them, the people of Portland had the balcony officially designated a National Park. Portland was nearly called Boston - it was decided with a coin flip. The smallest 'park' in the world is in Portland and people follow the adventures of the leprechaun who lives there. Portland's impressive environmental strategies. All fun stuff. Afterwards we retired for a really excellent brunch at Mother's Bistro and then, eyeing the rain and shivering, acquired a jacket for Roz in good old fashioned Roz-and-Layla-bring-the-wrong-clothes-on-holiday style...

I'd wanted to go strolling in Portland's famous rose garden, or the Japanese garden, but the torrential rain suggested this plan may have its flaws... So instead we proceeded to Glowing Greens, a crazy indoor minigolf extravaganza on the theme of pirate skeletons... All in blacklight with ultraviolet glowing stuff. Bizarre. We grabbed our putters and had a cheery time trying to beat each other. For the record, ladies and gentlemen: I am the champion of dead pirate UV minigolf. 

After Roz recovered from her tragic defeat on the last hole, we grabbed some dinner at the Laughing Planet, enjoying the trademark Portland healthy/organic offerings, and then to a beautiful and huge theatre to see the musical Once. Which Roz loved. I was less enamored... But it was a lovely night out. On our way home, we popped into the Baghdad cinema, a converted old theatre, and settled into the Backstage Bar. This is very cool: set in the old backstage area of the theatre with high ceilings, big curtains, and suchlike. Also games: we paired our beverages with that quintessential American sport: shuffleboard. I am proud to announce I am not bad at shuffleboard. This was a day of sporting triumph for me indeed. Next step: the Olympics. We walked the 3 minutes home from the bar afterwards, resolving not to mention that late night plate of fries we demolished... And so to bed, with the prospect of more rain on our planned outdoorsy holiday. Last time this happened we were in Georgia and flew to the Ukraine in search of sun. Perhaps not this time... Apparently the sun'll come out tomorrow (betcha bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun). 

In which Roz and Layla paddleboard in the ocean, are charmed by two men and read lots of books.

By Roz

After another delicious breakfast (the gays who run this B and B really are excellent cooks), we were off out on a paddleboarding expedition.  It was just the two of us and a very cheery American guide (who later told us, in true American style, of his plans to set up and run an import-export business from Asia). We were slightly ambivalent about the tour, because it was in the ocean and we feared we wouldn't manage two minutes without falling in. In true British style, we described our fears of falling from the boards to our guide in some detail - and our guide promptly thought that we'd probably never been out on a board before, and began managing our expectation down about how far we would go. So it was pleasing all round to step on to our boards and find (after a few waves of seasickness!) that it wasn't that much harder to paddleboard on the ocean than it is on a river. I suspect that our confidence in part came from the beautiful temperature of the water - it would have been a delight to fall in (in contrast to the Potomac River in DC, for example). And it was was very lovely: we were pretty much alone on the ocean (bar one random kayaker who we passed) and we made such good time that we ended up going a mile and a half to a small cove with a lovely sandy beach. We frolicked in the water and thought the snow that was falling on Washington at that very moment seemed very unlikely. We headed back the same way we'd come, chatting with our guide about paddleboard racing and where in the world to live - and delighting in the clear blue water and avoiding rocks. 

After this very satisfactory experience, we were dropped off in our hotel where we showered and then jumped in the pool. Eventually - fearful of burning - we dried ourselves and headed down the road for lunch. First, we went to the Falafel Bar (an unlikely food to be so enthusiastic about in Costa Rica...but it was delicious) and then to the cafe opposite for ice cream and a end of our books. Layla became antsy after a good while, fearing we would miss our bus to Alajuela (a small city near the airport) whilst I feared that getting the bus would mean our holiday was over and thus was deploying my best delaying tactics and so we headed back to pick up our suitcases and then back into Quepos to the bus station. As predicted, smugly, by me we were indeed somewhat early. So I sent Layla to buy ice cream whilst I settled down with Lorrie Moore's new book of short stories and tried to ignore the Spanish evangelist (the moment to find God is not in a bus station, in my view). After ice cream came the bus, and we hopped on. It turned out to be a fairly delightful journey - quick, but also going through villages to pick up more people which I always enjoy as I like imagining the lives of others. Whilst we travelled, I became enraptured by the new book I am listening to - The Signature of All Things, by Elizabeth Gilbert - and all in all was rather sorry when the bus journey was over.  We'd been deposited at the airport, which was a five minute bus journey away from Alajuela. 

I'd had my doubts about Alajuela, which we were mainly going to because of its proximity to the airport. But actually, I was wrong. It's by no means a place which a tourist would want to stay for days (or even a day, perhaps) but we enjoyed walking along the quiet streets to our hotel and spotting nice looking places for drinks, dinner and coffee. Having checked in to our hotel (and into a room with five beds, just for us!) we headed to a nearby restaurant and "cocteleria" though we shunned cocktails and opted for craft beers (followed by a strawberry milkshake in Layla's case...). There was a very jolly ambience, and the waiter was the loveliest and kindest we'd come across in our time in Costa Rica. (Next morning, we found ourselves similarly charmed by the hotel owner who just went out of his way to be nice...clearly there's something in the water in Alajuela!) We then went for a wander to the town square, which was very pretty if deserted (it was about 10.30) and then headed to bed, pleasantly surprised by the place we were in (and not just because of the multiple beds). 

Next morning - our final morning - we had breakfast in the hotel and then went out for a very quick look in Goodlight Books - a big English language secondhand bookshop (named after the Hemmingway short story) before hopping on another bus to take us to the airport. And now we are in the air and en route home. Costa Rica has been an interesting experience: I've had a brilliant time, but it was a bit like visiting a jungle version of Florida...

BOOKS READ WHILST AWAY

by Roz: The Magician's Assistant (Ann Patchett), The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd), The Golden Compass (Philip Pullman), The Subtle Knife (Philip Pullman), The Amber Spyglass (Philip Pullman), Flora (Gail Godwin), Sweet Tooth (Ian McEwan), I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (Maya Angelou), Bark: Stories (Lorrie Moore), the Human Factor (Graham Greene). Progress made with The Signature of All Things (Elizabeth Gilbert).

by Layla: We Are Water by Wally Lamb, The Golden Compass (Philip Pullman), The Subtle Knife (Philip Pullman), The Amber Spyglass (Philip Pullman), TransAtlantic by Colum McCann, The Dispossessed by Ursula P Le Guin, and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Progress made with Flora (Gail Godwin), whilst The Many-Colored Land (Julian May) was abandoned. 

In which Layla and Roz find themselves in a gay jungle.

By Layla

A four-hour bus transfer (with a stop to look at a river disconcertingly full of about 20 crocodiles!) brought us to Quepos and Manuel Antonio. With every hour it got hotter and more humid til we found ourselves checking in to a very attractive gay bed and breakfast in what was obviously the tropics. We hopped on the bus going up and down the street and settled down on a breezy patio in a restaurant called Avion, featuring an entire plane which they'd apparently bought from Nicaragua contra activity and turned into a bar - as you do... There were fantastic views over the Pacific Ocean and the jungle, and we sipped fruit juice and ate some lunch and felt excited about our new destination. 

Manuel Antonio is an odd area in some ways - very gay-friendly with several gay bars and clubs, very expensive, very well known for its wildlife (of which we saw a single monkey and an iguana), and the most popular national park in the country. We went down to the beach and rented boogie boards and spent the rest of our first afternoon catching almost every wave, under a brilliant blue sky, and surrounded by jungle. It was a delight. We finished it off with mohitos in a beachside restaurant, and some rather pleasant Thai food, and a peek at a local outdoors film screening of a western in Spanish. 

The next day we were headed into the national park itself. Much busier than Monteverde, we climbed our way over tourists attached to guides with binoculars searching for sloths... And found ourselves very hot indeed. The trail was sandy and leafy and went up and down a lot, but there were some beautiful views and we had a very pleasant morning, before we dashed for the air conditioning of a nearby hotel! Duly cooled, we caught a bus up to Cafe Milago where we ate a vegetable and hummus wrap and had drinks and read books before heading back to the beach for a spot of boogie boarding. After that we leapt onto the bus in our swimsuits for a return to the hotel's hot tub, and then a fancy dinner in La Luna, the restaurant next to our hotel. 

The following day we had booked another tubing adventure, having liked it so much at La Fortuna. We drove out to the river and it was even more fun than last time - whizzing over tiny rapids and floating gently down quieter bits of the river, admiring the scenery and getting burnt legs (and in Roz's case, blisters on her arms from excessively vigorous paddling...). We went into town to buy ice cream and bus tickets, then after popping home to change, settled for a read and a Jenga game and some excellent falafel at the Falafel bar... Then coffee at Cafe Milago... And then, impossible to resist - more boogie boarding! We are getting good! Afterwards we enjoyed more hotel hot tubbing, before going out for pizza at a restaurant with an old train carriage, and then venturing into one of the gay bars where we found ourselves the only ladies, but having forgotten it was St Patrick's Day, Roz was am inadvertent hit in her bright green dress... A surprisingly good gay scene here, if you're a man. And we had a cheerful drink before heading home to sleep. 

Today I'm writing this by the pool after a sunny breakfast. It cannot be true that we go home tomorrow!

In which Layla and Roz spot tarantulas in the jungle

By Layla

On our last morning in La Fortuna we waved goodbye to the volcano and hopped on a minibus with a group of US college kids on spring break, for one of the loveliest three hour transfers ever. After a short bus ride, we hopped off at Lake Arenal and boarded a little boat. Our luggage stacked at the front, we cruised across the ridiculously picturesque lake, the volcano looming beautifully on the horizon, the water sparkling in the sun. It is such a delight to be on holiday.

Sad when the boat hit the sand at the other side of the lake, we climbed out onto the beach to find the minibus that drove us down bumpy roads to our next destination: Santa Elena and Monteverde. Our hotel is slap bang in the centre of Santa Elena and within 20 minutes of arriving, we'd checked in, booked a hanging bridges 'sky walk', booked a jungle night hike, and climbed up into a restaurant set around a giant tree (the aptly named Treehouse Restaurant) where we were enjoying exceptionally delicious soup and salad and feeling very fond of Santa Elena.

The sky walk was a lot of fun. We drove up into the jungle and embarked on a really cool hike that was punctuated by six hanging bridges suspended over the treetops far below. Not one for those without a head for heights, but it was beautiful. The forest looked almost fake, its greenery so brilliant it might have been invented for a Disney film. Very lovely. We went round the whole circuit twice before catching the shuttle back to town for tour number 2: the jungle night hike.

The point of hiking in the jungle in pitch blackness is to spot animals, birds and insects that aren't usually visible during the day. In view of the majority of these creatures being spiders and snakes and scorpions and the like, I was unsure of my enthusiasm levels and rather hoped these animals wouldn't make an appearance. Alas I was foiled and we hiked up and down, through black foliage and across black streams as our guide shone his torch and exclaimed "Look! Big shiny eyes!" We saw a few mammals I've frankly never heard of (a bit like a stoat in appearance), two frogs ("very beautiful. Big red eyes!"), two snakes ("only a little bit venomous"), a tarantula, a scorpion, and some butterflies and birds. Apparently not a bad haul. As my small torch scanned the ground near my feet for creepy crawlies, I wasn't too sad when it was time to return to civilization - which in our case took the form of dinner, drinks and live music in the Treehouse...

It turns out that travelling to a cloud forest in the mountains is not a guarantee of balmy weather. As we tried to sleep last night, a vigorous wind whipped its way through our windows and teeth chattering, I wished for a giant duvet. Morning came with the wind still whipping, which wasn't encouraging for two girls planning to take the 7:30am public bus to go hiking in the Monteverde Cloud Forest...

We shivered as we bought our tickets into the National Park but luckily the trees provided a bit of cover and we ended up hiking around pretty much the entire park. The trees and scenery were very cool, and the trails sprawled around the perimeter, up and down, past waterfalls, bridges, and views of the continental divide. We popped back halfway through for coffee and cake... Then continued til four hours later we'd conquered Monteverde Cloud Forest. Fab.

After some carrot soup in the adjacent restaurant, we walked down the road a couple of kilometres to the Monteverde Cheese Factory, just in time for their 2pm tour. I've been on wine, coffee and chocolate tours aplenty - but this was my first cheese experience! The place was opened by Quakers fleeing US army conscription in 1954 and collects milk from the local area to make a wide variety of cheeses. The tour was brilliant in a slightly rubbish/kitsch way. We saw photos of the original Quakers learning to make the cheese. Photos of cows. Views of the cheese making equipment. And the best bit - cheese tasting. What fun!

We were eyeing the pavementless 4k walk home with some lack of enthusiasm when quite improbably on the deserted road, a taxi appeared and conveyed us back to the hotel and a sunny veranda with beer, then a fancy restaurant. Today: transfer to Manuel Antonio National Park area!