Five Days With Fawn

(Note: My sister Suraga has written up her take on this very same subject. 6 Days With Fawn, on her blog Suraga's Stories, has not been published yet; I will update this page as soon as she publishes it.)

PREFACE

This blog has been neglected for just over 2 years. Why? A combination of not having enough time, forgetting all about this blog, and not finding anything to write about. Welll...I've now jumped those hurdles since:

- I'm on summer vacation.

- I've been reminded of this blog.

- And I have a great story to write about.

Before we start, I'd like to offer you a quick update on what's happened between July 3, 2013 (the date of the last post on this blog, "The Best and Worst Rides in Great America") and now. You can skip ahead to the next section if you don't want to read the below paragraph.

I'm 12 years old (!) now. I'm still a full-time student at the local community college (Foothill College in Los Altos Hills, CA) but I'm looking to transfer to the University of California-Santa Cruz before I turn 13. My sister Suraga (who was "four and a half" when we last met) is now "six and a half." We have pulled her out of the dictatorial private school she was attending back then; she is now a student at the Children's School of Art and Science, a 19-student-strong homework-free idealistic utopia for self-expression and liberty and equality and fraternity and etc. etc. etc. (Remember this information: it will play a large part in the adventures below.) Suraga loves her school and is returning for a second year (as a 2nd grader).

INTRODUCTION 

In a nutshell: Fawn, the rabbit pet of Suraga's schoolfriend, has been bequeathed to us for 5 days while the owners are off on a cross-country road trip.

The longer version: Fawn is a tawny female cottontail rabbit (Sylvilagus floridanus) belonging to Sophia and Mateo Timpson, the children of the principals/founders/teachers/Education Directors at Suraga's school (see update in Preface). Naturally, Mateo and Sophia are also students at the school.

    When the Timpsons decided to take a cross-country road trip, they appealed to the families of students to take care of Fawn. They were going for 5 weeks, and we decided to volunteer for the 3rd week. We simply added our names in a spreadsheet, and that was that: Fawn was ours.

Now, let's meet our cast of characters:

 FAWN: The star of this piece. As above, she is a tawny female cottontail rabbit (Sylvilagus floridanus) and pet of the Timpsons. Prone to fright (from traveling in a moving vehicle, from being stared at by people, from our ill-fated attempts to catch her and return her to her cage), running off, and believing that our garden is a salad bar. Surprisingly does not like carrots and rabbit food.

HARI CHAKRAVARTHULA: Father of the author. Drove Fawn to our house and helped set up her enclosure. Helped recapture the rabbit on the occasions in which she has roamed free in our backyard.

HIMABINDU DHARMAVARAM: Mother of the author. Helped set up Fawn's enclosure and found the rabbit after Fawn's disappearing act on Days 2 and 3.

ALEX LIANG: Student in Suraga's school. His family took care of Fawn in the week before we did. Showed us how to replace Fawn's bedding.

 SHREYES NALLAN: The author. (I don't need to tell you about me, do I? - If you do want to know about me, go to the update section in Preface.)

SURAGA NALLAN: Sister of the author. Lover of nature and biggest fan of Fawn the rabbit. (To know more about her, go to the update section in Preface.)

DAY 0 What happens before Fawn gets here?

It's Saturday, July 11. The Liangs' 2nd shift taking care of Fawn ended yesterday. So why are we still Fawn-less? Short answer: Paranoia.

   The irrational fear in question stemmed from a email written by Julia and Sophia Timpson (Fawn's original owners). The mail itself was fine, but my mom's interpretation of it was not. She construed it to mean that:

a. Fawn could not be on the grass

b. Fawn needed a 100% shaded area

c. Thus, there was absolutely no place in our entire backyard (or porch) for the rabbit and so we couldn't take care of it properly and therefore we can't get the pet....

   On Friday, my mom called up Jing (Alex's mom) and declared that she didn't really need Fawn and that Jing should keep the rabbit in the home for another week. Maybe we would, uh, er, get a rabbit later or something...

   We probably never would have gotten the rabbit if I hadn't asked my mom why we hadn't picked up Fawn yet. She replied that she was insecure about bringing Fawn home and blah blah blah, but me and Suraga did not let up. We were looking forward to the Arrival of the Rabbit for 3 weeks now, and we were not about to let some eleventh-hour cold feet deny us from the opportunity. By 7 pm, we had settled on a compromise: we could hang a large tarp over the concrete portion of our backyard (!), blocking off the sun and creating artificial shade. Fawn's enclosure could go underneath this artificial shade.

    So this is what we're supposed to spend our fine Saturday on:
a. Getting a tarp
b. Hanging up the tarp
c. Getting the rabbit
d. Placing the rabbit underneath the tarp
  However, an incredible streak of lethargy -- not to mention the insistence of certain Unnamed Persons on watching Wimbledon (spoiler alert: Serena won) -- makes us go 0/4. In our only major success of the day, we manage to drive ourselves to the local Petco.
   On the way to Petco, a remarkable SMS back-and-forth took place. It is now reprinted (in its entirety) below.
Hari Chakravarthula: Do you have a tarp we could borrow?

Sriram Lakkaraju [Neighbor]: trap?
Oh yes
Tarp? I have a brown one
For putting on the floor ?
When ?

HC: We need it for 4 days (Sunday to Friday)
How large is it?

SL: 20x15
Its big
Size of our hall
We @ livermore now
Early tomorrow will give

HC: Thanks!

   With the tarp detail taken care of, we zipped in to Petco and zipped out with an oversized bag of rabbit food and a receipt for $12.87. The real work -- putting up the tarp and getting the rabbit -- would have to wait until tomorrow.

DAY 1 Intro to Fawn
   It's the weekend (Sunday, to be precise), so we have a hard time getting ready to receive the tarp from our neighbor. We finally knock on his door at around 10 am, and he hands over the 20' x 15' covering. I carry the (super-heavy) tarp back home, where we find that it can't go the 21-foot distance between the right-side fence and the windowsill. As the we-can't-get-the-rabbit threats close in, I find that stretching the tarp diagonally will solve the problem. Of course, my idea is immediately laughed off.
   The real Eureka moment comes from my dad, who advocates for tying string to the holes on the border of the tarp to extend its effective reach by at least 2 feet. We all agree and then promptly waste 10 minutes trying to find the hammer. We finally find it and start our herculean task. 2 nails (both on the fence) are placed with ease, but the 10' windowsill -- which is supposed to hold a 15' tarp edge -- provides a challenge. My dad tries to drive a nail into a wall to provide a 3rd anchor point, but the strategy fails spectacularly. One nail flies into our lawn and almost hits Suraga; another lodges in our A/C unit; and yet another loses grip and falls to the ground. He soon abandons the idea and lodges the nail into the very end of our windowsill. Of course, this would mean that the final anchoring point would have to go 5 feet to the left of the leftmost point in the wall.
   The situation looks bleak, but I come up with a crazy idea. I soon tie the tarp to a nail anchored on a far-off windowsill, and the tarp is set.
    Getting the rabbit proves to be harder. At about 3 pm, we arrive at the Liangs' house (if you don't remember, the Liangs took care of the rabbit for the week before we did) to pick up Fawn. Alex's father shows us the tricks of the trade -- how to care for Fawn, how to lock her cage, how to feed her, how to change her bedding -- before Jing (Alex's mother) shows up. She lets Fawn out of her fence (apparently, there are 2 layers of security, the cage and the fence. The fence goes around the cage, which is open during the day so Fawn can roam the fenced area. The rabbit is inside the cage at night and when her owners are out of the house). Even in the Liangs' bush-free, wide-open backyard, it takes us (Jing, Alex, Suraga, and me) approximately 5 minutes to catch the wily rabbit. Jing eventually seizes Fawn by the ears, stuffs her into her cage, and loads her into our minivan.
   The petrified rabbit sits still in the trunk of our minivan as we make our way down CA-85. Eventually, we arrive at our house. I unpack the fence; my dad unloads the rabbit food; and we generally get ready for the Arrival Of Fawn. However, we spot a huge problem: why would a live rabbit want to live under a tarp?
    Officially, the problem was that "Fawn doesn't have any mud to dig." But it didn't matter: we had a rabbit but no place to put it!
   Necessity is the mother of whatever-it-is, as the old adage goes, so we find the perfect place for Fawn in a matter of minutes. It's in the far right corner of the lawn (in the mud border around the grass) and it's shaded 24/7 by a small maple tree. Relieved at having found the perfect spot, my parents set up the enclosure.
   While writing this, I am realizing that in the previous paragraphs I left out the most important character: Fawn the rabbit. Now, let me wind back the clock and tell you what Fawn was doing in this time. (Feel free to skip the below 3 paragraphs.)
    The Liang family had taken care of Fawn for the past 2 weeks. She was very used to her present situation: the diggable soil, the large hole she had dug over that time, the location of her fence (under a large apple tree on the side of the Liangs' backyard). She was even used to being let out of her fence to hide beneath the Liangs' ivy and then being recaptured by the ears. So it came as quite a shock to her when she had to go to a new house.
   The drive made matters worse. Fawn was stuck in her rickety cage inside the trunk (!) of our minivan. This is never a good idea. With every wobble of her cage, with every turn of the car, Fawn got scared-er and scared-er. By the end of the drive, she was absolutely petrified.
   When we transported Fawn to out backyard, she was shivering with fear. She had no idea where she was; she was surrounded by unfamiliar people; she was still scared from the drive. And we didn't even pay any attention to her! (We were distracted by the Where to Put the Cage Crisis.) Finally, when my parents were setting up the enclosure, me and Suraga saw the shaking rabbit.
   No amount of petting could calm down Fawn. She refused all food. She shrunk into a corner when someone petted her. She was still shivering with fear. So I attempted something new: I opened her cage and let her roam free. She didn't want to.
   After about 10 minutes, Fawn gets trusting enough to get out of her fence. And then -- very amusingly -- Fawn starts eating up our backyard.
   It's rabbit paradise for the cottontail rabbit in question: there are leaves everywhere! Rosebush leaves, hibiscus leaves, bushes, weeds, grass... they all go into the stomach of a certain hungry rabbit. Fawn traverses the mud border around the lawn, beginning her Complimentary Culinary Tour of the Garden, as me and Suraga watch on in adoration. During this time, my dad comes out with his SLR and snaps a few pictures. They are shown below (click to enlarge):

   
  Suraga, Fawn, and me are enjoying ourselves and lose track of time. It's now 7:30 pm, and we must return Fawn to her cage for dinner. However, the rabbit shows no signs of wanting to get back...
   After some unsuccessful attempts at peacefully coercing her to get inside the cage (read: putting carrots inside her cage and scaring her), the order is given: "Grab the rabbit!" But Suraga and me have mixed opinions. Wouldn't grabbing Fawn

a. hurt her
b. scare her
c. be impossible for rabbit-grabbing novices like us?

   So we abstain from grabbing Fawn but up the peaceful-coercion attempts. We try to push her (since she's still scared of us, she could end up running back to her cage, right? Right?), but that doesn't work: Fawn quickly U-turns and sprints under my legs. After more unfruitful attempts, we finally call for backup. My mom comes into the garden, and the rabbit-grabbing starts in earnest.
   It sounds easy enough: just pounce on the rabbit when she isn't looking. But Fawn is very wily. My first attempt comes up short when Fawn simply scooches a foot deeper into the rosebush; my second attempt leads me to get pricked by a thorn; my third attempt is likewise thwarted; and in my 4th attempt, in a wide-open section in the far-left corner of the lawn (underneath our big tree), Fawn goes underneath my legs and escapes to the rosebush. I'm now genuinely frustrated. We call for backup yet again.
   It's four humans versus one rabbit, but the rabbit manages to get the better of us for another 10 minutes. The ideas to capture Fawn get more and more outrageous -- "Put a bucket over here, a box over here, a rock over here, and the cage at the back and she'll be forced to go in to the cage!" -- but our success never improves. In the end, the simplest technique provides results: I simply go behind the bush, grab Fawn, and lock her in her cage. When dinner is served, Fawn eats everything provided to her -- lettuce, hibiscus leaves, bush leaves -- except carrots and rabbit food. But she has enough energy for her surprising ordeal tomorrow.

DAY 2
When I wake up, Fawn is out of her fence. Don't worry, though -- Suraga let her out with express permission of my dad. She is outside, watching over Fawn as the rabbit eats up our garden. I join her. (I'm joining Suraga in watching Fawn. I'm not joining Fawn in eating up our garden.)
    Nobody knows why it happened. Possibly a little brainfreeze. Maybe boredom with Fawn's (very boring) routine around our garden. Plausibly sinister forces at play. But, somehow, we leave Fawn unattended while she roams free in our garden.
   I come out five minutes later. Outside, I see some bushes (some half-eaten), some flowers, and Fawn's empty fence. But no rabbit.
   Just in case you've skipped over the previous paragraph, FAWN IS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.
   I look under bushes; I look near our garbage bins; I look underneath our bikes; but I can't find Fawn.
   I make the announcement. "Do you know where Fawn is?" I ask. Pandemonium ensues.

"She's GONE?!?" screams my mom. "I looked everywhere!" "Why did you even let it out??!!?" "How can you do this???" "How will I answer them?!?!" "Keep calm!" "The rabbit will come back!" "How could you let it go???" "The rabbit is GONE!" "Where could it be???" "We can find it!!!" "No!" "Where could it have gone???!" "Why did you let it out?!?" "How could it have gone from our garden???"
   We soon realize that a small gap in our garden fence is responsible for Fawn's escape. The gap leads to the hedge in our front yard, so we rush to there trying to find the wily rabbit. It looks like Fawn has met her demise inside a gutter or underneath the wheels of a car. "How will I answer them?!?" "We've lost their rabbit!!" I resolve to look in every bush, in every gutter, and knock on every door, but the rabbit is as good as gone. But at the eleventh hour, when things look bleakest, a familiar face pops out of our hedge.
   "It's over here! It's over here!" Finding the rabbit is one thing; catching it is another. Fawn is underneath the thickest of hedges. This hedge is chock-full of branches, vines, and leaves. It's almost impossible to get a stationary object in there, let alone a live, slippery rabbit.
   I'll spare you from having to read a description of our absolutely futile efforts to recapture Fawn. It suffices to say that ever since I grabbed Fawn on Day 1, I had earned the (unfair) reputation of "rabbit-grabber," so the burden of catching Fawn fell upon me. And I failed. Again and again. Eventually, teamwork saves the day. My mom chases the rabbit to my side of the bush with her broom; my dad cuts open an inroads into the hedge; and I grab the rabbit. Again.
   After our rabbit-catching escapade, we leave Fawn in her tightly-locked fence. There's not really much to talk about from here; although Fawn is a cute rabbit, she is usually content with roaming about her enclosure and attempting to dig a hole in the soil. Throughout the day, we check on Fawn every 30 minutes or so and resolve to never let her out of the fence again.
   Our only notable moments with Fawn are:
a. Taking a selfie with her (see pictures; click to enlarge)

b. Figuring out that she really likes a bush with purple flowers (the "yumbush") and feeding her said bush
c. Trying to get her to go inside her cage for dinner -- see below
   
   At 8:30 pm, me and Suraga return from playing outside. As soon as we come in, we are set on another task: getting Fawn into her cage. Despite my rabbit-grabbing stints as above, I'm still wary of grabbing Fawn. So we try to peacefully coerce the rabbit again. Suraga offers one hibiscus leaf after another to Fawn, each leaf 2 inches closer to the cage than the last. About 15 leaves are used for this plan. However, in the home stretch -- Fawn is 5 inches from the cage -- we fail. Fawn suddenly decides that she doesn't want to eat anymore leaves and trots off.
   I am mad. "That crazy rabbit!" I exclaim. Another try fails (Fawn is full). But I get another idea: I place the cage horizontally so it blocks off access to the other side of the fence and menacingly bring it closer to Fawn. She simply slips through the 2' space between the fence and the cage. I put in a bucket to make up for the difference. She slips through the 5" space. I turn the bucket upside-down. There's a 2" space, but Fawn can't slip through. To get out safe, Fawn finally leaps into her cage.

DAY 3
We've come to the point of this piece where there isn't much to write about anymore. This is because all we ever do with Fawn is:

a. Go outside to check on Fawn
b. Locate Fawn
c. Call her a "coochie little coo"
d.  Pet her
e. Keep petting her
f. Feed her carrots/lettuce/spinach/hibiscus leaves/maple leaves/yumbush
g. Pet her
h. Get bored
i. Go back inside
j. Repeat

Since I am not writing this blogpost live (in fact, this section is being written on Day 5), I can't jot down the exact details of every check-up. So from now on, this blog will be restricted to the memorable events (i.e. the ones I can remember).
   The first Memorable Event of the day occurred at precisely 6:03 pm. Well, not really. It took 5 hours to develop, but the climax occurred at precisely 6:03 pm. Below is the most truthful version of this Memorable Event.
   On this fine Tuesday, at noon, I tried to let Fawn out of her fence. However, this blessing to the rabbit came with a condition: she had to get out within 30 seconds. Fawn decided not to venture into the hot sun, and I re-secured the "lock" (a pipe cleaner). However, I didn't tie it tight enough. The door was ever-so-slightly ajar.
   At precisely 6:03, my mom, Suraga, and me returned from my swim practice. My mom had a eerie premonition of Fawn's disappearance. A few moments later, her worst suspicions were confirmed. The rabbit was gone.
   In case you skipped over the previous paragraph, FAWN WAS GONE. For the second time in two days.
   Once again, "Where's Fawn?" "She's not in her fence??!!?" "She's GONE!?!" "NOO!" "Where could she go??" "Again!?!" "How could she escape?!?" "Where is she??"
   Once again, we rush to the hedge in front of our porch. We poke around everywhere, but she's good as gone -- to the best of our knowledge, she might have escaped 2 hours ago. But once again my mom finds Fawn on the far edge of the fence, sparing us the worry.
   Once again, finding the rabbit is not the same as capturing it. Fawn is as slippery as ever. The bush is as thick and as chock-full of branches as ever. And (this is where the similarities break down) we are short one person.
   I think you can picture the scene without much description: 3 flummoxed rabbit-grabbing novices trying to extricate the slipperiest rabbit in history from the thickest hedge in the world. So I'll spare you a description of our terribly fruitless endeavors and instead tell you how we finally recaptured Fawn.
   After 30 minutes of failure, we get an idea: chase the rabbit back through the gap in the fence (the one she escaped from), block off the gap, and recapture Fawn in our refreshingly bush-free lawn. It seems crazy at first, but it works. Fawn is tired out and trapped in the garden, where she meekly surrenders. I grab her -- again -- and stuff her back into her fence.
   In the evening, the neighborhood kids Abhi, Raghav, and Abbu came into our backyard to see and feed the rabbit.
   In the night, I return from playing outside to get Fawn into her cage. It's easy: she's tired and in no mood to rebel. I grab her for the...uh...let me count... 5th time and put her in.

DAY 4
WARNING: This section is a very short chapter in my textbook of Fawnology.* For reasons stated above, I can only include Memorable Moments in this blogpost. There happen to be no Memorable Moments on Day 4.
   OK, I lied. Even though there are no Memorable Moments on Day 4, I still have something to write about.
   This particular something has to do with Fawn's behavior on this day. Towards the evening, I observe her standing on her very tippy-toes and sniffing. Why is she doing this? Is she hungry? Does she want to go out of her fence? (After all, we didn't let her out today.) Is she just trying to be cute? Well...

- She's not hungry -- she refuses lettuce, carrots, hibiscus leaves, and yumbush
- She's not trying to be cute -- she's doing this even when there aren't any humans around
- So she wants to go out.

It's too late to let Fawn out, but I promise to get her out of her fence tomorrow. For now, I simply grab her -- for the 6th time! -- and put her into her cage. Dinner is served.

DAY 5
At 9:15 am, I make good on my promise and let Fawn out (on purpose) for the first time since Day 2. However, we make a few changes to avoid that day's disaster. The gap in the fence is blocked off, we vow to stay in the backyard and watch over the rabbit, and she only gets 20 minutes outside. While Fawn roams about the garden, time flies. It's soon 9:35 am.
   I waste no time. Fawn is at the far-left corner of the garden, in a wide-open space underneath the big tree. (If you have a good memory, you'll probably remember that this is the very spot in which Fawn escaped between my legs 4 days ago.) But Fawn can't escape this time: she's taken unawares and grabbed by the body. (By me. Again.) Somehow, somehow... she wriggles out and leaps out of my hands before I get to the cage.
   Never one to be daunted, I try again. I get closer!... but no cigar. Fawn slips out of my hands a mere foot from the cage, and I call for backup. My mom comes outside and endeavors to help, but Fawn is wary now. The slightest touch or approach by a human, and she quickly slides into the rosebush (the only spot of the garden which is impossible to reach). My next 3 grabbing attempts fail miserably. After this failure, we wake up to a more harsh truth: Fawn has become aggressive. She scratches me and my mom during subsequent attempts to catch her.
   But we don't give up just yet. Fawn is now behind a hibiscus bush on the mud-lined border between the grass and the fence. We block her path on one side by a board, on another side by a basketball hoop, and on the final side by her cage. All the while, we harass** her with a broom and add food to the cage to provide her some incentive to get in. After a near-miss (Fawn leaps into her cage but leaps out before I can lock her in), we redouble our efforts. But Fawn has one last play. She runs, leaps, and hurdles the basketball hoop, escaping to the wide-open lawn. I am officially daunted.
   I have one last play as well. I avoid attacking Fawn from the front and instead chase her to a spot underneath a small rosebush. It's not perfect -- I could easily get pricked by the rose thorns -- but I really want to get that rabbit. I pounce from behind, grab Fawn, and put her back in the cage. I later get a Band-Aid for the 4 cuts I sustain.
   Around the evening, more neighborhood kids flock around Fawn's cage. She seems to be scared by all the attention, and she shrinks into a corner.
   In the night, I use a Day 2-esque tactic to get the suddenly aggressive Fawn back into her cage. This time, I press the cage to the wall and gently push her in. Dinner is served.

(Note: After a marathon blogging section, I have finally caught up! All work from now on will be written live, so I don't have to bluster with Memorable Whatevers anymore.)

DAY 6 Epilogue
I get up at 8:03 (remember, I'm still enjoying my summer) and go outside with Suraga to give Fawn her breakfast. Suraga gets spinach and lettuce and soon dumps them on Fawn's enclosure. The rabbit is mad, but she eats her lettuce anyway. She'd better: this is her last breakfast with us.
   Earlier in the day, Anh Bui -- the next 5-day pet-sitter in line -- contacted us about picking up Fawn today. She hasn't determined the time and place yet, she wrote, but it will be today.
   At 12:26, we get another update. Anh will pick up Fawn after 6 pm. When we go outside to check on Fawn, she refuses lettuce, carrots, spinach, rabbit food, and hibiscus leaves. She eventually eats one mini lettuce leaf.
   My next checkup with Fawn comes at 6:05, when I let her out of her cage. (This makes more sense when I tell you that as a safety precaution, we had put Fawn in her cage while we were out of the house.) These will probably be my last checkup with the rabbit. Anh is coming to pick her up at 7:30.
   "Sorry, coochie little coo, but we have to do this," I tell the rabbit. "Other people have to enjoy you too, coochie. So Anh is coming and picking you up..."
   Suraga also has a quiet moment with Fawn outside. According to her, "I am very sad that Fawn is leaving..."
   My mom says, "Well... it's bittersweet, because... I am relieved that I don't have to take care of her but sad because she's leaving..."
   My dad (over the phone) reminisces: "Fawn. Well, I will miss Fawn... he's a cute rabbit and very naughty, and I'm glad he eats his food on time [joke at the expense of me]...."
   At 7:26, Anh and her family show up as planned. We walk them through the textbook on Fawnology.* 15 minutes later, they plan to depart. Suraga humbly hands over a present for Fawn -- a hibiscus leaf with "Fawn is the best" written on it -- and drops it in her cage. We say a few final words, and the now-missing piece of our lives is driven off into the sunset.

FOOTNOTES, ADDENDUM, AND OTHER STUFF
Footnotes
*My textbook on Fawnology would be named A Primer of Fawnology: Official Textbook for Fawnology 103 - Five Days With Fawn.
** It has been pointed out to me that "harass" is too vague and could easily be read to mean "whack" or "abuse." Clarification: We were just lightly pushing Fawn so she would move towards the cage and did not harm her in any way.

Addendum
 A totally scientific drawing of our backyard is included below. (Hint: it's here to help you understand the chase sequences in this blog.)

 OK, this is it! You've reached the end of my blogpost! (I'm only going to write a sequel if at least 3 people comment in favor, so click the comment link below!)
THE END 

The Best and Worst Rides in Great America

Now I'm on summer break, I've started paying attention to my blog -- and writing posts on it. Just a week ago, I wrote a post titled "Geography." Now, I'm writing about the best and worst rides in the amusement park of Great America in Santa Clara, CA (link goes to Great America's website). So, if you ever visit Great America, keep this post in mind.

Notes on the lists: They are solely based on my 4 trips to Great America. I haven't gone on, and therefore can't rate, some rides like Gold Striker, the Vortex, and the Demon. Also, I realize that I am not meant to like the rides at Kidzville and Planet Snoopy (the younger-kid-themed parts of the park); they are tailored for kids younger than me. Because of this, I have exempted rides at Kidzville and Planet Snoopy from both lists.

Notes on "An Ideal Itinerary": Names of rides and sections of the park are in bold. A reason for including the ride in the itinerary (in italics) follows each ride. After each section of the park is reached, bullet points containing the name of each ride I want to go to in the section follow.

The 3 Worst Rides in Great America

1. Rip Roaring Rapids in All American Corners: 

    Reasoning: You wait for what seems like AN HOUR to ride a tub on a pool. People are frequently misled by the ride's 5-star rating on the Thrill Index. Whenever you go to Great America, don't ride on Rip-off Roaring Rapids!

    What to do instead: If you want a thrill-filled water ride, Loggers Run in All American Corners and Whitewater Falls in Celebration Plaza are your best bets. During the summer, check out Boomerang Bay, the water park section of Great America.

2. Jackaroo Landing in Boomerang Bay:

   Reasoning: No matter where you go on this play structure, you're sure to get drenched. Every five minutes or so, there's a humongous downpour that makes it impossible to go anywhere. You need to brave geysers and downpours to go to any slide on the structure. By then, the constant drenching becomes more annoying than fun. And the tremendously slow slide does nothing to improve Jackaroo Landing's rating.

   What to do instead: Visit the REAL rides of Boomerang Bay: Tasmanian Typhoon, Down Under Thunder, Didgeridoo Falls, Screamin' Wombat, and Ripsnort Ridge. You also might want to try Loggers Run in All American Corners and Whitewater Falls in Celebration Plaza.

3. Thunder Raceway in Action Zone:

   Reasoning: The race for the final spot in my Worst Rides in Great America list is a close one between Boomerang Lagoon in Boomerang Bay and Thunder Raceway.  Boomerang Lagoon, though crowded and cold, is at least free. You need to pay $8 per person to get into Thunder Raceway. Come on, we already paid for admission into Great America!

   What to do instead: Unfortunately, there is no other ride in Great America comparable to Thunder Raceway. The only other rides involving cars are Barney Oldfield Speedway in County Fair (a car-shaped buggy ride) and Rue Le Dodge in Orleans Place (a bumper-car ride). I haven't tried either of these, so I can't provide any feedback on them. If you really want to see Action Zone, go on The Grizzly, a thrill-filled wooden roller coaster.

The 5 Best Rides in Great America

1. The Grizzly in Action Zone:

   Reasoning: The Grizzly is the most thrill-filled ride in Great America I've ever gone on. Though the wait time is 30 minutes or so, the multiple 90-foot drops make the wait totally worth it.

2. Loggers Run in All American Corners:

   Reasoning: There is relatively little wait time, and there's a 72-foot drop at the end. It also involves water, and I'm bound to like any ride with water (except Rip Roaring Rapids and Jackaroo Landing).

3. Whitewater Falls in Celebration Plaza:

   Reasoning: Again, it involves water and a big drop, so I'm bound to like it. There is also NO wait time: the longest wait time we've suffered through is 2 minutes.

4. Ripsnort Ridge & Screamin' Wombat in Boomerang Bay:

   Reasoning: I've already covered the rides I like in All American Corners, Celebration Plaza, and Action Zone. With Kidzville and Planet Snoopy exempted from the list and given the fact that I haven't been on any of the 3 rides in County Fair, this the final two slots on my list to rides in Boomerang Bay, the water park inside Great America. Jackaroo Landing finished 2nd on my Worst Rides in Great America list and Boomerang Lagoon finished 4th; Didgeridoo Falls is boring and slow; Castaway Creek is overcrowded and a ride for 5-year-olds, not me; Down Under Thunder has some thrill, but it leaves you dizzy in the end; and Tasmanian Typhoon, even though it escapes the plights of the previous rides, doesn't have enough thrill for me. This leaves me with Ripsnort Ridge & Screaming Wombat (two separate water slides which share the same line and lifeguard and, because of this, are grouped together). It's my favorite ride in Boomerang Bay, so that means it makes the list.

5.Tasmanian Typhoon in Boomerang Bay:

   Reasoning: Due to circumstances explained in the Reasoning section of Ripsnort Ridge & Screamin' Wombat, the 5th ride on my Best Rides list has to be from Boomerang Bay. Tasmanian Typhoon is my second-favorite ride in Boomerang Bay, so it makes it onto the list.

An Ideal Itinerary

Arrive at the main entrance to Great America and step into Celebration Plaza.
    -- Ride on Carousel Columbia. This ride is a great introduction to Great America. It's a chance to relax before going on the thrill-filled rides later in this itinerary. 

Walk into All American Corners via Orleans Place.
    -- Ride on Flying Eagles. Again, this ride is a build-up to the more thrill-filled rides in Great America (it's rated "Intermediate Thrill" - 3 stars - on the Thrill Index). It's also fun and kind of thrilly (if that's even a word).

If it's summertime, walk to Boomerang Bay. 
    -- Ride on Tasmanian Typhoon and/or Down Under Thunder. They are my 2nd and 3rd-favorite rides in Boomerang Bay, respectively. If you want thrill, go to Down Under Thunder (which involves going up a vertical wall); if you want a family ride, ride on Tasmanian Typhoon (my 5th-favorite ride in all of Great America).
    -- Ride on Ripsnort Ridge & Screamin' Wombat. It is my 4th-favorite ride in all of Great America.

Walk (from wherever you are) to Planet Snoopy (if you want, check out the kids' rides in Kidzville or Planet Snoopy).

Walk to the ride near Planet Snoopy called Loggers Run (though it's surrounded by Planet Snoopy, it's technically a part of All American Corners).
    -- Ride on Loggers Run. Loggers Run is my 2nd-favorite ride in the whole park.

Walk to Action Zone via Planet Snoopy.
    -- Ride on The Grizzly. The Grizzly is, in my opinion, the best ride in Great America.

Walk to Celebration Plaza via County Fair.
    -- Ride on Whitewater Falls. According to me, Whitewater Falls is the fourth best ride in Great America.

Walk out of Great America from the Celebration Plaza main exit.
 

And our day in Great America is done.

Geography

You've waited 8 months to see a new blog post from my blog. And today, the wait has (maybe) payed off. The post you're about to read is long, but read on to find out about the game I invented (detailed in the section "Where in the World?") and see the humorous map I found (section "The Economist's US Map.")

Where in the World?
I invented this game two years or so ago to allow Suraga (my sister, who, at that time, was 3; she's now, as she says, "four and a half.") to play a game that she wanted to but couldn't. You see, we bought a game from some store when I was about Suraga's age. Entitled "Where in the World," it promised to be a fun-filled geography game. However, when we actually played it, it turned out to be about rote memorization of facts. You needed to memorize at least 4 facts about EVERY SINGLE COUNTRY IN THE WORLD (all 196 of them!). Even I couldn't play it -- we lowered the number of facts to 1 when we played. Then Suraga caught sight of the game and asked if she could play it with me.

The First Incarnation
I told her that the game was too complicated. She, however, kept wanting to play. I saw the opportunity to make up a game which would be easy enough for her to play and would use all the cards, pawns, boards, and spinners provided so Suraga would never find out that the game I made was not the real game. And Suraga just might have the opportunity to practice her reading skills along the way.

I went to work. Pretty soon, I came up with an idea: Suraga could pick a continent at random, and we could go on a safari of that continent! And that is the main idea behind my game, Where in the World. 

This game quickly became a sort of play, with our living room playing Greenland, Tonga, the Congo, and a host of other places. And any good play needs bad guys, so I introduced some to my game.

Me and Suraga weren't new to plays. We weren't new to plays with bad guys, either. In 2011, me and my teammate Vishnu did a history fair project on the Cuban Missile Crisis (see the second item in this blog post). Every minute we weren't arguing, we were out in Vishnu's backyard playing. As far as I can remember, Vishnu was President Kennedy, I was Khrushchev, and Suraga (who always tagged along for our meetings) was Robert Kennedy. All three of us were invading Cuba, facing off against the main antagonist, Fidel Castro (dictator of Cuba), and his cronies. Suraga never forgot about our game, and, when I had to pick a bad guy for \/\/here in the World, "Castro" was the obvious first choice.

And so Castro (in our house, an oversized teddy bear) became the main villain of Where in the World. The co-villain was Guevara (based on real-life revolutionary Che Guevara), a plush teddy bear bearing a Union Jack on his shirt and hat (our dad bought it during a layover in London). Now the game was about going on a safari through a continent and getting to some destination before Castro and Guevara. 

A week later, we played Where in the World for the first time. I explained the rules to Suraga. She picked the continent of Oceania (aka Australia), which consists of Australia, New Zealand, and a bunch of Pacific islands, for her safari. We started out strong, with Suraga finding a strip of paper reading "Dingo," then running for her life from this ferocious Australian wild dog. However, the once-interesting safari turned into a boring and redundant play. I couldn't find anything for Suraga to do in, say, Nauru or Vanuatu. I soon resorted to pillow-fights with Castro at almost every isle we visited. When Suraga sprinted into American Samoa (aka our kitchen), this ill-fated first attempt at playing Where in the World ended for good.

However, Suraga loved the "signs" (strips of paper) I had her find and read along the way. You see, for every country we "visited," I placed these signs around the house. Each sign would say something like "DIG!" or "SHOP" or "SHIPS" and would follow phonics rules Suraga had learned so far. She liked reading the signs and doing the actions they corresponded to, and begged to play again.


I don't exactly remember what happened next. I think I appeased her with another safari, this time through South America. Castro and Guevara somehow got a head start. Then they won a crucial step of the race. They rowed into Tierra del Fuego (our destination) first, causing great disappointment.

The Demise of Where in the World
For some reason, Suraga stopped wanting to play Where in the World (I'll leave it to you to figure out the reason). Also accelerating the demise of Where in the World was the Indian cultural festival of Navaratri. For this festival, we had to make an art display on 5 steps. Board games were the perfect choice to make the steps. Every board game we had -- including Where in the World -- was used in making the steps. My game was forgotten both during the two-week festival and long after, replaced as The Most Fun Board Game Ever by a few new games.

Given to me by my aunt for my birthday, Ruckus still holds the position of Most Fun Board Game Ever. It is a luck-of-the-draw, short, competitive, and FUN card game. Anything can happen, and everyone has fun. We played it first in June of 2010, and it gathered steam from then on. We played it again and again. In 2011, a dispute over the rules sidelined Ruckus for a bit. However, Sorry, not Where in the World, took the position.

Sorry was another game given to me by my aunt. Although it's slow and often ends with Suraga crying because she lost or me protesting our dad's bias towards Suraga in the game, it is entertaining and fun. However, me, Suraga, and our dad have never played a game of Sorry without crying or shouting. Never. This gave Ruckus a huge advantage -- and it dominated.

The Revival
This year marked the revival of Where in the World. Two weeks before the time of this posting, Suraga begged to go to the park. I resolved to do anything to stop this, and Suraga soon agreed to a game. "Which game? Ruckus, Sorry, or Uno?" I asked. "I want to play a game we never played," replied Suraga, "Its name is Where in the World."


And thus Where in the World was revived. I mapped out a fun course throughout Africa and added one more element to the game -- money. Everyone (me, Suraga, Guevara, and Castro) got a predetermined amount of money. The amounts of money ranged from $1500 to $200, and we would use the spinner provided to determine who would get which amount. We would need this money to start playing (the "starting fee" was $200) and buy stuff like camels and boats. With the rules of the game set out, we began playing.


We first determined who would get which amount of money. I got $1500, Castro got $800, Guevara got $500, and Suraga got $200. With the $200 starting fee subtracted, Suraga was bankrupt when she arrived in her chosen place of landing, Libya. All she had to do was traverse the entire continent of Africa and wind up in Madagascar.


Libya's chief export is crude oil, so I decided to do something related to crude oil while we were there. Suraga had a reason to do it -- to get money (she had no money when she arrived in Libya). I came up with an activity: I would put a rubber band on a spot where crude oil was to be found, and she would have to use a set of signals to get a robot (i.e. a stuffed animal) to the spot within a certain duration of time. Castro and Guevara aced the task on their first try, bought camels with the money the got, and marched across the Sahara to Chad. Two Where in the World-days later, Suraga tried the activity for the third time. The robot went really close to the rubber band but JUST missed it. With 2 seconds left on the timer, Suraga managed to turn the robot around. It touched the rubber band with less than one second to go. In dramatic fashion, Suraga had completed the Libya stage of this safari -- and won $100.

To cross the Sahara, you need camels. When Suraga went to a mall to buy camels, she went to the Cake Shop instead of the Camel Shop and traded most of her money for a cake. Now without enough money to buy a camel, she had to wait for another day. Meanwhile, Castro was already one country away from Madagascar (our destination). 

A day later, Suraga finally got enough money to buy a camel. On her camel, she rode to Chad and went to work on the amazingly easy task there. She had to put a pencil in a slot and keep turning it around for 30 seconds. If the pencil came out 6 times during the 3-minute duration of the task, she would fail the task and have to do it another day. In her first three 30-second periods, the pencil came out. She managed to do it on her fourth 30-second period, acing the task on her first try.

She now made her way to the Democratic Republic of Congo (Zaire), where Castro and Guevara had been trying (and failing) the task for the previous 2 days. Having to do with multiplicative series and unit analysis, this task was "the hardest one of all." I explained to Suraga that copper mining drives Zaire's economy, but the copper mined out of the ground is "dirty." You need chemicals to "clean" (purify) this copper, I told her. She was chosen to clean 4 grams of copper. She found a table detailing how much chemical to use to clean a certain amount of copper, but 4 grams was missing from the chart. She had to infer the value for 4 grams, then fill up a mug to that value exactly -- within 3 minutes. With less than 1 minute left, Suraga figured out the value. Then she went to a sink to fill up the mug. "10...9...8...7...6," I read out. With 4 seconds left, she rushed me the mug. She had aced the task again.

She dumped the money she'd gotten on a canoe to take her across Lake Tanganyika to Tanzania. In Tanzania, she had to work as a park ranger in the famous Serengeti National Park and foil poachers' plots. She did, and got $150. She proceeded to buy a boat to get her to Madagascar, but instead of going to the Boat Shop, she went to the Bat Shop and spent $100 there. Boats started at $150, and she needed to earn $100 more. There was some more bad news: Guevara and Castro had arrived. Suraga quickly set up a coffee shop to earn the remaining money, but she only got $29 on one day, $71 short of her goal. However, a superhuman performance the next day saved her, and she had enough money to buy a boat 

During the final stretch of the race, Castro and Suraga raced to get to Madagascar first. Castro had enough money to buy a speedboat, and dominated Suraga in the first half of the race. However, he fell off the speedboat and into the ocean, handing Suraga a Where in the World victory. From then on, not a day has gone by without Suraga asking me if we can play Where in the World again.

The Economist's US Map
Below is a humorous map printed in a 2011 issue of The Economist. You might not get the humor at first, but look closely and you will. Enjoy!

Click to enlarge

Unfinished Draft: Our Costa Rican Adventures

 I started this post in June, when we came back from our trip (May 23 - June 1) to Costa Rica. It was moving very slowly, because I didn't have much time and there was just so much to say. In August, our hard drive crashed. All our Costa Rica videos were stored there, and I couldn't continue. So, I'm publishing it as an unfinished draft. Here it is:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 1

"It's so green," she said. She was right.

"I don't know how it's going to be," said Mummy, waiting for the TACA Airlines flight that would take us to the Aeropuerto Internacional Juan Santamaria (The Juan Santamaria International Airport in Costa Rica) in the San Francisco airport. Just hours before, as we checked in, we talked to a Nicaraguan about Costa Rica. "Costa Rica? Oh, it's so nice, so pleasant, [and most of all] it's so green," she said. She was right.

A cab driver took us to La Fortuna.

A cab driver who works for our travel agency, Sergio Gomez, took us from the airport (at Alajuela) to our first stop in our travel plan (for 3 nights): La Fortuna, offering a great view of the Arenal Volcano (1650 meters tall), stopping by a fruit shop on the way. He acted as translator and we bought mangoes, bananas, guavas, grapes, and avocados. A hour and a half later, we arrived at our resort/hotel, Los Lagos.

The view of the volcano.

The top of the volcano seemed to always be covered in clouds, but the view was still very majestic. We had a separate house to ourselves, and we started to discover that this resort was the best place we stayed in, ever. 

But when we arrived, we were tired. A 6½ hour flight starting at midnight and a 2½ hour drive were enough to exhaust most. We got some food from the Restaurante Las Palmas (the Restaurant of the Palm-Trees) and returned to our room to sleep. The day was done.

Motto of the day: "Bienvenidos!" ("Welcome!")

Day 2

This was the day that we really got to know Los Lagos and Costa Rica in general. 

I warmed up for the slide.

After a breakfast buffet at Las Palmas, we dashed off to the pool. The day before, we toured the pool (or pools - there were four). First there was a kids pool which had an arch you could jump from. There was another pool which had a slide which leads straight into the water. And there was a volcano-shaped pool and an adults pool.
"Just slide right in," said Daddy. "No, I have to get used to it." So I did.  I swam around the whole pool, got out, and not heeding the sign saying "Cuidado! Piso Mojado" ("Caution! Wet Floor"), I slipped, and fell into the pool that the slide led to. I was ready.

SPLASH!

"Go Anna! Go!" said Sugi, as I climbed up the stairs. After pausing for a few seconds at the top of the slide, I went down like a bullet. SPLASH!
"Did you get the video?" I asked. "Yes, I did. Now I'll take you on the camera in sports mode." Sports mode takes super-fast photos, and it would be perfect for the slide. I went down again, and in a split second, Daddy captured six photos. Now Sugi encouraged me again. "I'll clap if you do it three times," she said. 30 seconds later, she clapped.

One of the iguanas.

Then, I raced and beat Daddy at every race that I could think of, and jumped from the arch into the pool six times. Sugi, even though she got her swimsuit, goggles, and swim cap, never went into the water, and instead went into the hot springs. Bored, we went into the hot springs too. After spending some time in the hot springs, we got out and got our towels.
A common theme here was that wildlife was knocking at our door. When we arrived, we saw seven birds. We saw a few birds and an iguana on the floor of Las Palmas. While coming to the pool, we saw an iguana on a rock. In the morning, we saw six birds outside our room. And now, we saw two iguanas on Daddy's shirt.

After that, we headed out to Catarata del Rio Fortuna (River Fortuna Waterfall). We had booked a tour called "Unique Cano Negro" (for Day 3) and we would see lots of birds and animals there. We wanted to have something to do outside of the resort on Day 2, too. So we went to the waterfall.

The waterfall.

We started out for the waterfall in our car, but we soon got lost in town with no GPS and a faulty map. When we asked "Where's the waterfall?" no one understood us. Finally, Daddy talked with a multilingual store owner who pointed us in the right direction. We went up unpaved roads to the waterfall, and when we got there, we had to pay. We walked across a bridge to the Mirador (viewpoint), where we climbed up 10 steps and spotted the waterfall. It was just spectacular. 

After we climbed down from the mirador, we saw a tourist climbing up some stairs. "It was tiring, there were endless stairs...but it was totally worth it." So we decided to go down. There were a ton of stairs, and Mummy and Suraga got so tired that we had to leave them somewhere in the middle of the stairs. Daddy and I continued. The stairs became rock stairs, and there was smooth rock between them. I had to slide from step to step until the stairs became normal again.


Suddenly, it started raining. It was a huge downpour, and instantly, we started to climb back up to Suraga and Mummy. Now we had to climb up those rock stairs. It was really hard, especially since the rain made the stairs slippery. But finally, we managed to get back up to where we left Sugi and Mummy. They weren't there, so we kept going up. Finally, we found our way back up, and after finding Sugi and Mummy under the roof of some souvenir shop and wore ponchos. I wanted Daddy to take a picture of us in ponchos, but when he clicked the shutter, nothing happened. The camera was destroyed.


When we returned to the resort, we cheered up, because Sugi and Mummy were going to the Butterfly Garden, and Daddy and I were going ziplining (I can't talk about the Butterfly Garden because I never went there). At the info center, we wore our equipment (basically a lot of cables and a baseball mitt) and headed up a rocky trail to the spot where we started our ziplining.

Me, ziplining.

It's pretty easy: you just have to stay in the same position for a few seconds until you see a platform on a tree trunk and brake (gravity and inertia carry you). Just as Daddy got down on a platform right next to our room, Mummy and Sugi saw him. They couldn't see me, however, since they started to go to the Butterfly Garden just then.


Meanwhile, I got ready for the final cable. The cable took us near the info center (it was called Canopy las Cañones) and we got off right next to the Crocodile Farm. Our camera wasn't working, so Daddy took a video of the crocodiles. Then, we went back to the info center, took off our equipment, and headed back to our room (we thought Mummy and Sugi would be there). But they weren't, so we searched for them in the Butterfly Garden, the Ant Farm, and the Frog Farm. Finally, we found them at Restaurante Las Palmas, and came back to our room together.


"The camera is dead, apparently," announced Mummy, "we took it to the waterfall, then there was a heavy rain, it got wet, and completely stopped working. Now we have to figure out how to do the trip without the camera." Well, we only had to if all attempts to fix the camera failed. So we decided to go to the souvenir shop and see if they had a replacement battery for the camera.


We knew it was highly unlikely, but we decided to go anyway. Fortunately, we ran into a photographer there, and she told us to let the camera dry out by the AC overnight. With this advice, we ended the day on a high note, eating dinner at the fabulous Anchio Pizzeria e Restorante (Anchio Pizzeria and Restaurant). When we returned to our room, Daddy put the camera by the AC and slept.

Motto of the day: "Fun, once you get used to it."

Day 3

When I woke up, I was greeted by Daddy. "Look!" he said. He had the camera in his hands. He pressed the shutter, and... click!

Now, we didn't need to "do the trip without the camera." That was great, especially because Caño Negro would be full of wildlife. When we got on to our tour bus, we drove for a long time and then parked somewhere. Our "naturalist guide," Bernardo, told us that we were going to stop twice before we went to Caño Negro. Our first stop was Centro de Turismo del Iguanas (Center of Tourism for the Iguanas). Well, why would some iguanas the size of your foot have a center of tourism for themselves? And what was so great about these iguanas that they were called the iguanas? We soon found out.

An iguana slithered up to us.

Bernardo took us to a bridge over a river. We could see some iguanas there, and they were just HUGE. The iguanas we saw in the hotel were the size of your foot, but these iguanas were three feet long! Two iguanas slithered up from the trees and stopped right in front of the Center of Tourism (they probably wanted to bask in the sun for some reason I don't remember, but I used to know why).

The Center of Tourism was just a shop, and Sugi liked something in it. I played around with mayonnaise and ketchup packets until it was time to go to our next stop: Restaurante el Caiman. It was a tiny hut with long tables, and I really didn't understand why we had stopped there.

Our boat at Rio Frio.

We walked back to the tourism van and drove for some time. Along the way, Mummy kept pestering Bernardo about quetzals (one of the rarest birds in Central America; less than 1,000 live in the world today, 300 in Costa Rica alone) and toucans (Mummy said "I've seen one in the zoo, but I want to see them in the wild,"). When we arrived, we hopped off the van and into a boat.


Captain Rito pulled a lever and started the boat. We sailed "slowly and silently" through yellowish-brown water, seeing so many birds that Mummy was tired of seeing bird after bird. I'll let my pictures tell the story (a picture says a thousand words); this is a slideshow of all the pictures I took on the boat (click for a larger version):

After docking, we gave Captain Rito a tip and got back in our van. We stopped at Restaurante el Caiman again, where we had a "typical, delicious Costa Rican lunch" with yucca chips, rice with vegetables, and more. After taking pictures of papayas, mangoes, guavas, and bananas that they grew there, we hopped on to the tourism van for a 2-hour ride back to Los Lagos. 

Mummy at the observation point.

The 3-hour drive to Caño Negro (near the border of Costa Rica and Nicaragua), the 3 hours in the boat, and the 3-hour drive back tired us out. After resting for some hours in our room, Mummy went to the reception desk. "Where can I see toucans?" she asked. Paula, the person at the desk, said that they come out around 4:00 - 4:30 and if you go to the "observation point" there would be a slight chance of seeing them. So we went a mile up a rocky road to the observation point.

It was just a hut with a few chairs and a fabulous view of some river and the Arenal Volcano. But it didn't have any toucans, and Mummy was disappointed. We drove back to our room.

After resting some more, we realized that this was our last night at Los Lagos, and our next hotel, Hotel Belmar, didn't have very many exciting things to do, so we decided to go to the hot springs one last time.

Daddy and Sugi at the hot springs.

We spent time in cold, medium, and hot water. Mummy slid down a waterslide to the adults' pool, and encouraged me to do so, too. After I did it, I encouraged Daddy. Then all three of us (and Sugi) relaxed in the hot springs again. After a half-hour, we drove back to our room and turned out the lights.

Motto of the day: "Pura vida!" ("Full of life!")

Day 4
When we woke up, we headed straight to Las Palmas. After eating breakfast there, Sugi and Daddy went to the Frog Farm, while Mummy and I went ziplining. 

When Mummy arrived on the first platform, three girls from New York went on the cable. It was Mummy's turn. "I can't do it," said Mummy. "Well, that happens..." said a good-for-nothing guide, Cesar. They had a van take her back to the info center.

Now it was my turn on the zipline. I really didn't like it because Cesar and two more useless guides, Louise and Stefan, pushed me (they called it a "super-chicken") on every single cable. Finally, I finished everything and met up with Sugi, Mummy, and Daddy outside the info center. 

Sugi and I making guacamole.

Determined to end our last hours at Los Lagos on a high note, I suggested making guacamole (avocado dip) for our chips. We bought some avocados from the fruit store back on Day 1, and nobody ate them until now. So we borrowed knives, plates, and spoons from Las Palmas. Daddy cut an avocado in half, and Sugi and I began scooping out the inside. When we were finished, we crushed it - and that was our guacamole. Then we tried it out with chips. It was a bit bland - with no salt or pepper - but we both loved it. Mummy, however, didn't. She told me to take one last picture of our room, because we were going around Lake Arenal to the Monteverde Cloud Forest, to a different hotel called Hotel Belmar. A half-hour later, we started.

Equipped with a GPS, we headed out on a windy road around the lake and, two hours later, arrived at a town called Tiláran. Hotel Belmar's website told us to follow a gravel road for 45 km (28 miles) and we did. What we didn't know was that on gravel roads we could only travel at 15 mph (we didn't have a Hummer) and it would take 2 hours to get there. After we were safely in Monteverde, our GPS failed us and took us up a hill somewhere. We decided to ignore it, and arrived at the hotel. 

The hotel was surrounded by greenery, and we could see forest from our balcony. We singled out tours for the next two days, and ate dinner at Johnny's Pizzeria. We still didn't know what a cloud forest was, though.

Motto of the day: "Ups and downs - we need a Hummer!"

Day 5
On Day 4, we had selected a tour for Day 5. It was a guided, private cloud forest tour. We were looking forward to that when we arrived for breakfast in the hotel. The service was absolutely perfect, and the meals were great. Our table had a quetzal-shaped napkin holder (an extremely rare bird in Central America). After eating bread and butter, I drank some hot chocolate. Meanwhile, Daddy met up with our guide, Roberto Wesson. He was an artist and naturalist who spent most of his time out in the forest drawing paintings of flora and fauna. When Daddy and Roberto were talking (on the way to the cloud forest on a Hummer) about Indian ornithologists, Mummy realized that we needed water, and stopped by a market to get it. When we arrived to the Curi-Cancha Cloud Forest Reserve, we forgot the water and climbed outside with Roberto.

The cloud forest.

"Today, our goal is to see the quetzal nest," said Roberto. Mummy, at once, pestered him about toucans. "I know where the bellbirds are singing, I know where the quetzals are nesting, but I don't know where the toucans are," he said. As we went into the reserve, we began to see what a rainforest was like: tons of trees (many on top of other trees) that blocked out the sky and sun. Wildlife was hard to see, and for a half-hour the only wildlife we saw were some butterflies and a millipede. 

Then, out of nowhere, came a piercing call: BONK-whoo! We heard it again: BONK-whoo! And again. This, Roberto explained, was a bellbird. Roberto took many detours to try to spot it, but the bellbird was too elusive for us. We finally gave up all hopes of finding that bird, and continued on the path to the quetzal nest. 

It was just walking and walking for some while, until Roberto aimed his Swarovzki telescope at a distant tree, and I was the first to look inside. It was another bird. Roberto said it was a motmot and Daddy looked. He saw that the motmot was gone. We didn't have to wait long before we saw another animal though. In ten minutes or so, we saw a rabbit-like animal right on our path.

"Puma feet. Puma feet," whispered Roberto. I crept closer and closer to it, and in a split-second, that animal was gone. Roberto said it was a coati (rhymes with "floatie") and it was the animal that we saw on the way to Monteverde (from La Fortuna). But I couldn't take a picture in both cases, and we moved on. 

Mummy and I were, at one point, so tired that we stopped to rest. However, Roberto and Daddy moved on. When we realized that Roberto and Daddy had gone far, far ahead of us, we ran and shouted for Daddy. We finally caught up with them, and found them staring at something. It was a quetzal.

The quetzal (click to enlarge)

The quetzal was absolutely breathtaking, colored a marvelous turquoise and black (it was a male; the female is jade green and red). Daringly, I crept ahead of all naturalists and tour guides clustered around there, and took seven pictures of the quetzal at full zoom. Sugi, Daddy, and Mummy followed me. "Take many pictures," said Roberto, "so some of them can come out perfect." And I did.

The quetzal had just fetched a juicy caterpillar for its baby quetzals and then perched on its favorite branch. Then a female quetzal came, and they both flew off. 

At this moment, our camera failed. On its screen, it said "Error 50: Shooting is not possible due to an error. Turn the camera off and on again or reinstall the battery." Daddy popped the battery out and in again, but it still didn't work. By the time the quetzals flew off, the camera screen went black. We headed back out of the Cloud Forest Reserve.

For a half-hour or so it was just walking, until we heard that call again: BONK-whoo! BONK-whoo! Roberto said that he would take a little detour to see the bellbird. We passed a sour-orange bush and walked into an open field with a picnic table (Daddy ate a sour-orange and said "This orange tastes like a lemon!"). Roberto aimed his telescope at the top of a tree with no leaves (it was the highest tree in that range) and I looked inside. It was the bellbird.

It was a weird sort of bird, with a white head and a brown body, and with a "mustache." Roberto said (after spotting an "ornate eagle") "We saw a motmot, a coati, two quetzals, a bellbird, an ornate eagle, but no T-O-U-C-A-N." We continued on our walk back to the Hummer.

The toucan (Rainbow-Billed Toucan)

After another half-hour, we had almost reached the exit. There were a few horses in a pasture to our right, and the cloud forest on our left. Roberto took a turn to the right, and we followed him. He aimed his telescope at the top of a tree and we looked inside. "What is it?" I asked. "A toucan," said Roberto. He put the lens of our video camera into his telescope and zoomed. It was a toucan, all right.

Mummy smiled for a moment, and that was it. She still wasn't impressed. There was only one explanation: she wanted to see the Emerald Toucan. Roberto explained that there are 2 species of toucans in Costa Rica: Rainbow-Billed Toucans (the one we saw) and Emerald Toucans. Emerald Toucans are (of course) green, and they blend in with the vegetation around them, so it's really hard to see them. But Mummy wanted to.

Just outside the Reserve, near a sign saying "Welcome to Curi-Cancha Cloud Forest Reserve," we posed for a photo. Daddy uploaded it to Facebook, and it remains the only iPhone photo of our trip. We headed back home in the Hummer.

Me playing pool at the game room.

We ate lunch soon afterwards, and Daddy slept while Sugi and I jumped on the beds and steered a ship to Taiwan (well, not really). At four o'clock (while Daddy was still sleeping) Mummy, Sugi, and I walked down a path to the jacuzzi. We spent an hour there, mostly kicking around and trying to block jet streams. After coming back, we went to the game room, where we played pool. It was my first time playing it, and soon after Daddy got two balls down in one shot, I lost. But I got better (especially when I hit a ball like a hockey player would), and managed to lead, only to lose again. Soon after, we ate dinner (I ate a "Monteverde Cheese Platter") and slept.
Motto of the day: "Welcome to the rainforest!"

Day 6
We got up, ate breakfast, and got in our rental car to go to Selvatura Park, which was suggested by Roberto. Also, when we turned the camera on, it showed a black screen. We left it behind, and took Daddy's iPhone and the video camera along instead. The road to Selvatura was just up, up, up, until we saw an authorized ticket dealer. The park was still 3 km ahead, so we bought tickets for the "Hanging Bridges" and the hummingbird garden. A few minutes later, we parked at Selvatura's parking lot and, after giving the park officials the tickets, walked to the first bridge in the system. We noticed rainforest all around us, and before long, we saw a hummingbird. It flew just in front of us, but time is measured in hundredths of seconds for hummingbirds. It flew past us before I could even take out the iPhone. So we kept walking, and we reached the first bridge.

Daddy, at the first bridge.

The hanging bridges lived up to their name. From there, you could see some trees above you and a lot of trees below you. It's just overwhelming to see so much green in one place. Quickly, we moved on to the second bridge. On the way to the third bridge, we saw a group of tourists led by a guide, whose name was Andres. We allowed them to pass us. Just seconds later, I exclaimed, "It's a bellbird!" But it wasn't. That elusive bird was somewhere else, calling out "BONK-whoo! BONK-whoo!"

The turquoise-and-black bird.

We moved on to the fourth bridge. There, we saw six turquoise birds flash in and out of some bushes. We managed to find one of them. Mummy zoomed in. It was mostly black, but some parts (including the head) were turquoise. Some more tourists gathered there, and after seeing so many cameras taking pictures, the bird got scared and flew away. We wanted to meet Roberto and ask him what it was, but we could only meet him the next day. So we moved on. 

The bellbird.

On the next bridge, we heard that sound again: "BONK-whoo! BONK-whoo!" And the bellbird was right there. It was the same thing we saw through Roberto's telescope, but we saw it with the naked eye (actually, Mummy did and then pointed it out to the rest of us) and even my binoculars didn't have greater zoom. Daddy said that even though the tourists who had passed us on the way to the third bridge had payed an extra $10 for the guide, they missed out on the bellbird (certainly pressed for time).

The road to the seventh bridge was a very, very, very long one. It was just walking, walking, walking with no end in sight. When we finally reached the 7th bridge, we didn't see any birds, so we continued to the 8th (and last) bridge. After some time, we reached it, and after seeing nothing important, we walked down the path back to the parking lot. 

At a restaurant near the parking lot, I ate the "Vegetarian Sandwich" and Daddy and I waited while Sugi and Mummy visited the Hummingbird Garden. Some time later, they came back and we got into our car and drove back to Hotel Belmar. At the hotel, we rested for three hours, and after drinking milk, went to the game room to play pool. 

I protested against Daddy taking two turns ("Sugi's turn" and his own) and left the game. I went to the couch where Mummy was sitting. Mummy told me something, but I forgot it after we went back to eat dinner.

When we ate dinner, Mummy noticed the music they were playing, and sang along. It was some Hindi music, and the waiter explained that they took their music from an online channel, and that channel happened to play Hindi music that day. Mummy told this to everyone, and we resumed eating. After we were done, Daddy asked for coconut flan. As we were waiting, a waiter called Jorge brought something out, and placed it on our table. It was a cake. 

"¡Feliz cumpleaños!" he said to Daddy, "Happy birthday!" The cake was a fresh and wonderful chocolate cake. It was the best cake I had ever eaten. However, Daddy was puzzled. "Why did he say happy birthday?" he asked. Mummy explained that it was a "Costa Rican birthday" and since this would be the last chance she had to have someone else make a cake (we were spending our last three days at a vacation house) she decided to go for it. A few minutes later, they brought in the coconut flan, which was even better than the cake, and we went back to our room and slept. 

Motto of the day: "Costa Rica is pretty great!"

Day 7

The duck pond.

When we got up and ate breakfast, we decided to go for a walk on a hotel-owned trail. The trail led us to a "garden" which had a lot of native plants. After walking past it, we walked to a duck pond, and standing on a dock, Sugi and I said "¡Hola, patos!" ("Hello, ducks!") After taking pictures of them and relaxing for a while, we walked back to the hotel.


We played pool for some time in the game room, and then, after eating lunch, it was time to go to the next location in our travel plan: Manuel Antonio. 


We started for Manuel Antonio, but before we even got out of Monteverde, a huge rainstorm started. We had to stop at a coffee shop and waited out the storm. After fifteen minutes, it stopped and we continued. After an hour, we arrived at the Pan-American Highway (1 Interamericana Norte) and after driving for a very long time, we took a road towards Jaco and Quepos. Those two places were beaches, and the road ran along the coastline. After driving for another two hours, we arrived at Quepos (just 2 miles away from Manuel Antonio). We drove up a high road, and followed it. 

Casa Tipoha (photo from its website)

We followed it until we were lost, and asked someone for a cell phone to call up the owner of the vacation house we were staying in (The owner's name was Olivier Collin, and the house was called Casa Tipoha). After getting lost again, we finally reached Casa Tipoha.

The house had a basement and irregular windows. It had some balconies and its shape was newfangled. It also had a swimming pool. It had Wi-Fi, but the password on the refrigerator didn't work. The phone also didn't work, and after we finally got it working, Olivier Collin came to the house. He explained that he was a Belgian whose family moved to England when he was 10. He randomly decided to move to Costa Rica, and soon built a lot of houses. This was one of them. 

After telling us everything about the house and Manuel Antonio (including some good restaurants), he left us on our own. We immediately drove to a place called Pizza Pata. Their pizza was not measured in terms of diameter. Their pizza was rectangular, and it was measured by length. I ate a ¼ meter pizza, and Mummy and Daddy shared a ½ meter pizza. After eating our pizzas, we went to a tiny convenience store where Mummy bought a lot of things, and then we drove back to our house and slept.

Motto of the day: "Welcome to Manuel Antonio!" 

Day 8

Daddy and me in the pool.

When we got up, we ate some corn flakes (purchased by Mummy the night before) and I got into the pool. When Daddy got into the pool fifteen minutes later, he spotted an iguana that Sugi dubbed "Iggy." Mummy scared poor Iggy, and it fled into its cozy little home. Daddy, after dipping his feet in the water for a few minutes, jumped in, and we raced and raced.


After some time, Daddy realized that he had no chance against me because freestyle was his only good stroke (he couldn't keep himself up in backstroke, and he'd forgotten butterfly and backstroke) and I beat him at it. He got out and went back inside. After some time, I did too. 

Daddy and me in the ocean.

It was time to go to Playa Manuel Antonio (Manuel Antonio Beach). After paying some money to someone to get parking, we ran to it. The ocean there was as hot as a swimming pool, and Daddy and I went into the water. After it became knee-deep, I stumbled, and ran back to Mummy. Soon, I ran back in.

At this time, Mummy said, "I want to go into the water, too!" and within a minute, she did. Leaving Daddy behind to take video, Mummy, Sugi, and I went in to the water. Sugi came back soon enough, and Mummy and I were left in the water. Immediately, a wave washed over us, and one of my shoes was lost.

Mummy and me in the ocean.

Still, Mummy and I went back into the water while Sugi played "sand games" under the shade of our umbrella-chair. Mummy and I kept going inside the water, and soon a huge wave submerged both of us, and we found ourselves on the shore. Daddy and I went into the water next, and we swum on it as if it was a swimming pool. After doing that for some time, we got out and met an ice cream salesman.

He gave us a significant discount for the vanilla ice cream. It was delicious, and I soon finished one of the packs he sold to us. After eating, we drove home.

Fiery-Billed Aracari, Boat-Billed Flycatcher, Howler Monkey.

I played in the pool for a long time, and after I got out, three yellow-and-brown birds came near the pool (I later found out that they were Boat-Billed Flycatchers). After they flew away, we saw another bird. It had a big and long bill (like a toucan) so Mummy called it a toucan. But I was skeptical. It couldn't be one because it was only yellow, black, and red (the Rainbow-Billed toucan doesn't have red anywhere other than the tip of its beak, and its beak has green and blue too). It was, I reasoned, a Fiery-Billed Aracari. Soon, Daddy focused the camera on something else. It was a howler monkey.