Rio Perdido is both the name of a hotel and a river. We stayed several days here in the middle of a reserve in the dry tropical forest (definitely not a rain forest) about 1 1/2 hours from Liberia. The hotel gets all its electricity from the Miravalles Geothermal Power Plant which we actually passed on our way to the cacao plantation (see the last two Costa Rican posts). They use their own water and do not chlorinate it. The name comes from a river which flows through the reserve. Their goal includes protection of the forest and sustainability.
Rio Perdido itself is a hot springs river.
We hiked up and down small cliffs on the river sides to get here.
This river is famous for its volcanic mud. To obtain its benefits those who wanted dug the mud from the bottom of the river and painted it on faces, arms, etc. with the provided brushes. Here one of the group paints mud on the guide’s face and neck. Some attached leaves above their ears.
I wandered on another path down river to watch for wildlife and take photos.
The reserve contains numerous hiking and bike trails some of which are as long as six or more miles. This bridge crosses the river and leads to several hiking trails. The main building in the background houses a reception area, restaurant, bar, spa and gift shop with three swimming pools. They provide bicycles for those who want to try the trails, some of which are quite long and difficult. Rooms are separate cabins scattered throughout the forest. A shuttle provides transportation from cabins to the main area for those who choose not to walk. The staff is welcoming, chatty, and creative. When the staff cleaned our room, made beds, etc, we came back to find my grandson’s stuffed sloth sitting on his pillow, reading a book. For those who want to relax, escape the world, this provides a perfect place.
Many years ago, in the group of women I work with, we all had a marvelous epiphany. It was spontaneous combustion that fueled our collective desire to learn about the “Nine Maidens.” It was as though some unknown force was driving all of us to seek out and to know.
I started this post just after getting back from an India trip, always very challenging because of memories that haunt me not only through their high negative recall value, but also in that I often find myself reverting to the diffident, fearful person I used to be while living there. In fact, palpitation is the first to greet me at Bombay airport even now after nearly seventeen years of being an expat. But with every trip, I also find myself evolving as a person, as a woman. And of course, it is always fun to meet up with family and old friends, all of whom I hold very dear. But the highlight of this trip was Queen.
writingontherim 