Blatts in Costa Rica: Swarming Crocodiles on Mother's Day

This morning at 6 a.m. I woke with a start to explosions down the street. Turns out it was the church setting off firecrackers to celebrate Costa Rican Mother's Day!

Click on the photo to see the crocodile video!

We set off to the beach at Jaco, which turned out to be a flooded flat of mottled grey sand, attacked by tourists (she said with disdain), and overrun with tchotchkee shops selling hammocks and Pura Vida t-shirts. The lunch spot we picked hocked a single grilled snapper for $20 bucks, which barely filled the void.

Fortunately, the day got exponentially better, quickly. Our new friend Bill and his wonder-dog, Oliver suggested we join him at a nearby beach, Herradura (Horseshoe Beach), where we frolicked in the playful surf for hours. The body-surfing was exceptional, the water was warm and inviting, and the sea floor soft and sandy.

Sated and sun-burned, we drove home, but paused at a bridge where we had seen folks collecting on the way in. "I bet there are crocodiles down there," I suggested. We parked the car and walked along the bridge and holy hand-grenades, Batman...there was a veritable herd of thrashing, writhing, behemoths.

The bridge began to fill with locals and tourists. A tica (Costa Rican woman) told me of a drunk who threw himself over the bridge once, and all that was left was his throat. Or that they went for his throat. Fortunately, my Spanish is not that good.

Soon I heard a voice beside me ask in Spanish, "Would you like to buy a chicken?" I raised my eyebrows in morbid curiosity. He explained that the chicken was for throwing over the bridge to incite a frenzied croco-riot. I politely declined, without asking whether the chicken was dead or alive. Hmmmm. PETA would have a field day here.