Today I spent the morning in Manuel Antonio National Park. I chose the Spanish school I am at because of its proximity to the park. Thirty-some years ago, when Scott and I were here, there was simply nothing. Yes, nothing. We stayed at a jungle lodge and walked over to the beach where there were perhaps a dozen people along with 6 to 8 foot iguanas lazing around.
Visiting today, I don’t know as I have ever seen so many people in a national park anywhere else in the world as here. There were at times 50 people or more trying to catch a glimpse of a single sloth high in a tree. Walking along some of the paths was like trying to move through midtown Manhattan at lunch.
Just getting to the park was an ordeal. The traffic was intense. There are now shops, restaurants and hotels cozied up against one another on both sides of the highway. The line to get into the park was 30 minutes long. Guides were shouting for their group to hurry along. Parents were trying to keep their kids in line and not lose them. White faced monkeys bounced all around stealing water bottles and anything else not hidden in a backpack or a purse.
As the world becomes smaller and everyone is becoming a traveler, I am thinking more and more about leaving those long ago cherished memories alone. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to go poking at them. Places revisited can sometimes disappoint in the harshest of ways.
Yet, today with the help of an expert guide, Manuel, and his spotting scope, I was able to see some wonderful animals. The animals are still here, doing what animals do.
