Against my expectations, I actually kept the pillow in place and managed some sleep in my single bed with its makeshift headboard.

This morning we discovered the attraction of staying in Santo Domingo. At Mr. Leader’s traditionally early hour, we left under overcast skies on a journey of 3m/5km taking almost 30 minutes over the stone and rock so-called roads of this region, eventually reaching the Volcán Tenorio National Park a shade before 07:00. Yes, Volcán Tenorio is, indeed, a volcano. That may sound like a surprising destination for dragonfly hunters but Costa Rica is home to a number of so-called montane species, not something that we are familiar with in the UK. We were a bit too early; establishments at the park entrance had not yet opened up. Spotting three chaps in need of breakfast, though, the restaurant did agree to swing into action providing us with the traditional Costa Rican breakfast of good ol’ Gallo Pinto and eggs.

Visitor numbers to the park are limited so our leader began fighting with their online booking system, which was in its infancy. Systems are frequently tricky on a mobile phone and this was clearly one such. The air turned vaguely blue when Mr. Leader was timed out – you have to complete the booking task within 12 minutes. The staff offered the use of a desktop computer with a decent sized screen but this time Mr. Leader bailed out because he was unhappy entering his personal card details into someone else’s computer. Back to the mobile phone. Armed now with a little more familiarity, his third attempt was successful; we were admitted.

The weather remained overcast. The volcano had its head in the clouds. We began walking up the misty path seeing little more than tapir tracks. Eventually rain began. My companions were armed with umbrellas but mine was back at the shack. I must work out a way of carrying it as well as all my camera gear. The rain increased. I put my camera back in the rucksack for some protection, did a U-turn and headed back to the covered restaurant for some shelter. There is little point wearing a raincoat in climates such as that in Costa Rica – you’d just get wet from sweat – so an umbrella is by far the best waterproof. Other than that, just let your clothes get wet, as I now was; once out of the rain, you’ll soon dry off.

My companions returned and joined me. Apparently a tapir had become very interested in Herr German’s camera, investigating it with its snout. Other than that, I don’t think they saw anything.

In between the volcano and our shack in Santo Domingo we had passed a Tilapia Restaurant. If it’s fish in Costa Rica, then it seems to be tilapia. It is apparently a major commercial export and is certainly a staple of the local cuisine. Descending from the abortive trip up the volcano, the weather had brightened a little and we called in for lunch. This little establishment was a part of the local industry, being surrounded by fish breeding ponds. The UK has trout farms, Costa Rica has tilapia farms. That meant water and that meant dragonflies, so as well as lunch we finally got a spell of photography.

As well as the fish ponds in the grounds, a small stream flowed by. Presumably this was the water source of the ponds themselves. The restaurant entrance was across a footbridge over the stream. The metal handrails of the bridge were inventively painted to resemble bamboo poles. It looked like quite an artistic undertaking. This Brown Setwing (Dythemis sterilis) seemed appreciative, anyway.

Back chez nous, we had discovered that an outside door, first assumed to be just a broom cupboard or some such, was, in fact, a door into a small kitchen area. The kitchen area included a fridge. Yay! I had somewhere to keep my beer cold. I sat outside on the veranda with a cold beer or three while I watched wildlife visiting the canopy in the surrounding trees and shrubs. A Purple Leafhopper made n attractive subject to add to my collection.

Today we moved on from Iguanitas Lodge. It had a parting gift for me before we hit the road, though. One of Costa Rica’s nine species of Rubyspot damselflies was posing advantageously in the garden. This is a very clean example of the Red-striped Rubyspot (Hetaerina miniata).

We aren’t doing particularly long travel days, though on some of Costa Rica’s roads they can sometimes feel like it. Mr. Leader likes to maximize our time in the field by calling into places en route. This morning we left early to go via the Reserva Biologica Camino a San Juan. We thought initially that we had to arrange access from a lodge but apparently the gates were open and access was free. What we found was a very pleasant lake with a shaded jetty affair complete with seats for those of us who like to sit down and take the weight off.

Working around the margins of the lake in between spells on the thoughtfully provided bench seats, we found a lot of dragonfly and damselfly activity. For me, the most impressive dragonfly was the appropriately named Brilliant Redskimmer (Rhodopygia hinei). What seemed odd with this is that the red colouration covered the sides of the thorax, as well as the abdomen. The other intriguing subject here was a damselfly, the so-called Tropical Sprite (Nehalennia minuta). There is a Nehalennia species in Eastern Europe which I’ve never seen so this was a new genus for me.

There was also some entertaining bird activity on the lake. One bird, a Great Kiskadee (Pitangus sulphuratus) was flying sorties back and forth between the trees and its nest, which appeared to be effectively on the water’s surface. It must have been feeding chicks in the nest.

There was also a representative of the so-called Lilytrotters, the Jacanas, here. We’ve seen Jacanas in Africa on previous trips but I didn’t realize they were in the Americas. They are fascinating birds with enormous feet that allow them to walk over floating vegetation without sinking into the surface. This colourful chap is a Northern Jacana (Jacana spinosa).

Playtime was over and we needed to hit the road. Part way to our destination Mr. Leader took a short side trip to a restaurant for lunch. The restaurant is known for its local population of iguanas, which live in the trees alongside the building. We ordered lunch first and then I wandered out onto what I’d call a veranda. I was slightly taken aback to see, wandering towards me along the veranda, a fine looking specimen of an iguana.

As we neared our destination, I was very surprised when we lost any vestige of tarmac and continued our journey on, well, not gravel tracks but tracks made of stone and rocks with a much larger granularity. Some of the gradients gave me pause but our little Toyota rental car seemed to cope admirably. I must say that Mr. Leader drove with circumspection and well within its capability. This was no time for heroics.

Our destination sounded like something out of a Clint Eastwood movie: Santo Domingo. It looked even more like an Eastwood movie set when we finally found our accommodation; it was a wooden building with a corrugated iron roof and looked initially like a hill-billy shack. This was a Wi-Fi free environment. It was also a privacy-free environment with three beds in what was essentially one room, though one bed was partially screened off. My bed had no headboard so the pillow would have disappeared over the back; we had to engineer a solution using a bench seat twisted around as a headboard substitute. (You can see Mr. Leader’s Ikea wardrobe moth trap on the left.) It was a bit of a shock at first but the veranda being up at tree level was very pleasant. It would have suited a Jack Daniels and Coke – skip the corncob pipe, though – but I made do with some red wine instead, since I had no cold beer.

Santo Domingo has no refuse collection so we were instructed to take our rubbish and recycling away with us when we left. I know not why there was no waste collection since a school bus was parked in one street so they could obviously get those in and out of town. Town?

The lodge in question is the Laguna del Lagarto Eco Lodge as favoured by the American author of the Costa Rican Field Guide to Dragonflies and Damselflies.

As is usual, our leader keeps a constant lookout on the sides of the roads along which we travel. He really is amazingly keen eyed when it comes to spotting potential habitat and subjects of interest. This morning the drive to the lodge proved very fruitful with a couple of stops producing two particularly attractive species. I’ve wanted to see the first of these or, at least, a close relative, for some time. This rather gaudy pink creation is the Carmine Skimmer (Orthemis discolor); it’s similar in colour to one of our European species but larger.

The second striking subject was completely unknown to me prior to this trip: the Amazon Sapphirewing (Zenithoptera fasciata). Light reflections on these coloured wings make it a bit tricky to photograph; angle is all important though shuffling around you get scared of losing your subject completely.

En route distractions dealt with, we finally arrived at the lodge itself at about 08:30. You can apparently blag your way into the lodge on the promise of eating lunch with them and that’s what we did; well, that’s what Mr. Leader did. We were soon splitting up and wandering about in search of targets, though being an amateur I stuck pretty close to Mr. Leader. Herr German wandered off on a solo mission as is his wont.

There’s a good sized lake near the entrance gate which is where we concentrated our efforts. I really should have chosen a long-sleeved shirt and with the temperature hitting 31°C I was wary of spending too long out in the direct sun. Happily, some thoughtful soul had placed a wooden seat in a very shady location. From here I could dart out on sorties. I was wearing insect repellent but not sun screen – with a second camera body, my rucksack is just too full of camera gear to carry too many extras.

Eventually Mr. Leader drifted off leaving me waiting for opportunities with another couple of suspects. They duly obliged. One of these was a so-called Pennant, a genus that likes to sit at the top of stems with its wings in the breeze. In this case the subject was a Metallic Pennant (Idiataphe cubensis). The second proved a bit trickier to catch unobstructed by vegetation but it eventually obliged with a clear view: a Flame-tailed Pondhawk (Erthemis peruviana). With nothing new putting in an appearance, I decided to return to the main part of the lodge some two hours before our appointed lunchtime.

My companions pitched up under the shade of their umbrellas and decided to set off down a trail through woodland to another swamp with a boardwalk across. I tagged along to start with. What didn’t have a boardwalk but needed one was the trail itself which became increasingly muddy and slippery. My walking boots were not quite up to the terrain so I backtracked to wait for lunch. The local workforce going about its business was vaguely entertaining as I sat in more shade.

Upon our arrival, we’d all pre-ordered fish for lunch. I think the fish was tilapia fillets. Both Mr. Leader and Herr German had tucked into whole tilapia back at La Selva. The lunch here was very good.

We took our leave of the eco lodge intending to drift back along the road checking out likely spots but we found the spots sadly lacking other than at one bridge over a stream that produced s new damselfly for me. There is a family of broad-winged damselflies known as the Rubyspots, named after a distinctive red patch at the wing roots; Costa Rica has nine. The one we encountered here is easier to identify than most being the only one with non-hyaline wings, the Smoky Rubyspot (Hetaerina titia).

The weather was still fine and back at Iguanitas Lodge we thought we’d try a local eatery for our evening meal, not that I felt I needed anything. Meanwhile, I took up my favoured position under the covered outdoor area to nurse a few cold beers whilst watching the visiting birdlife. One of the more common birds in this area is the Scarlet-rumped Tanager (Ramphocelus passerinii), looking like a blackbird with a bright red rump. It’s a bugger to photograph ‘cos you really need it looking away from you to show the rump to good effect. Today it was joined by something of a surprise. Costa Rica apparently has six species of toucan and I was thrilled when one of them, a Collared Aracari (Pteroglossus toraquatus), flew in to the banana-laced feeding trough, dwarfing all the other birds, to show me its impressive beak.

For our evening meal, we’d arranged to meet at 18:00. With an unerring sense of timing, the heavens opened at 17:30 accompanied by flashes of lightning and peels of thunder. We went out anyway with umbrellas deployed against the rain, this time, rather than the sun.

I really went just to be sociable. After my Tilapia lunch I was less than hungry and wanted only something light so I opted for a chicken taco which might have fitted the bill. However, In addition to salad, it came with a plate load of chips which I did my best to avoid. Appetite aside, the chips came ready dressed with ketchup, which is not my favourite way of serving chips. It was quite clear that Mrs. Proprietor did not avoid chips … ever.

This morning we bad farewell to La Selva. Before we could leave, though, Mr. Leader had to pack up his moth trap. Well, I call it a trap but it isn’t a trap in the conventional sense. What it is is a 1½m-high white fabric Ikea “wardrobe” supported by a collapsible frame. Inside this Mr. Leader places a blue light to attract the moths which then sit on the outside of the material. I really can’t believe he travels with it but he’s very keen on mothing. This morning, stuck contentedly to the outside of the fabric, was an enormous Rothschild’s Silk Moth with an impressive wingspan approaching 15cms/6ins – it’s the size of a side plate. What a magnificent insect.

Moth trap safely stowed, after another decent breakfast with the now standard Gallo Pinto we handed our keys in and hit the road. Mr. Leader’s first stop was another wildlife area: Tirimbina Biological Reserve. It was en route to our next overnight.

Naturally, Mr. Leader had this place on our itinerary for a specific dragonfly. He likes to find rarities for his clients but everything I see here is new to me so I’m more than content with whatever turns up.

We paid our entry fee and hit the reserve stopping first to examine the so-called Frog Ponds. I wasn’t sure if these were the poison frogs but they’re the only frogs we’ve seen so far. We didn’t see frogs at the pools but we certainly did on the way to them. The pools did produce a few interesting damsels, though; this is a particularly attractive Wispy Threadtail (Psaironeura angeloi).

Following on from the ponds we had to cross a very long, rather shaky suspension bridge over the wide, raging Sarapiqui River, the river that we knew from La Selva. Half way across the bridge Mr. Leader was gutted ‘cos the spiral stairs leading down off the bridge to a central stone and gravel beach/sandbar, was closed to the public. I got the impression he had been down on a previous visit but there were officials around this time.

On the far side of the river we bumped into a researcher that Mr. Leader knew from one of his previous trips. This kind chap directed us to a swamp area, new to Mr. Leader, that he said was good odonata territory. Well, that’s a red rag to a bull – we set off.

Arriving, we found a well constructed boardwalk traversing the swamp. The weather wasn’t yet the best but we spent a contented hour or so waiting for brighter interludes in the weather, snapping away when we could as well as fishing Mr. Leader’s lens cap out of the water. At least it’s not just me that is prone to dropping things.

Returning, we bumped into our friendly local researcher again. This time he told Mr. Leader of a pond that was actually behind the main reserve, access to  which required a circuitous trip along roads and down some lengthy gravel tracks. Following his instructions we duly found it and snapped away again for another 45 minutes or so beside the pool. In the muddy pool surroundings I was a bit hampered by my lack of Wellington boots – whilst mine had turned up with my repatriated luggage, I’d found them almost impossible to remove so I’ve returned to wearing my walking boots. Most photographic backgrounds have tended to be a confused tangle of vegetation but this pool provided a cleaner backdrop for a slightly distant in-flight shot of a mating pair of Dashers.

It was well into lunchtime by now and Herr German doesn’t do well without food – unless he’s photographing dragonflies, that is. He’s as fat as a thick chip but eats like a horse. After about 13:30 we managed to drag him away and opted for a cafeteria lunch of fried chicken and chips in the nearby town. A stray dog watched us, salivating (the dog that is, not us) as we ate. The chicken was surprisingly good and just to try to be healthier I avoided most of the papas [chips]. No, we didn’t feed the dog.

Appetites sated, except for the dog’s, of course, I guarded the car full of luggage while my companions raided another bakery to help Herr German fill any remaining gaps he might have in his stomach later that afternoon. There were bound to be some.

We hit the road again and drove along beside a novel landscape of endless pineapple plantations, all of which are American owned I believe, to get to our final destination of the day at Iguanitas Lodge in Boca Tapada. An iguanita is a small iguana. The afternoon rain was intermittent rather than an unending thrash. My room here is best described as adequate after the relative luxury of La Selva. Hot water seemed to be more or less non-existent but with the temperature topping 30°C, a cool shower was fine by me.

The Iguanitas Lodge eating area is covered against both the sun and the rain. It’s a pleasant enough space and kept me amused watching a procession of colourful birds visiting the owners’ garden while I dispatched a beer or three. You can’t keep beer cold travelling for an hour or two in a hot car but at least Iguanitas had its own supply for sale. The lodge puts unzipped bananas out in a sort of bamboo trough so it looks natural rather than like a bird feeder; clever. This garden visitor rejoices in the name of Yellow-throated Euphonia (Euphonia hirundinacea), which Google Lens helped me with. Google can come into its own with American fauna but, being US-centric, I find it’s best avoided for Europe.

La Selva lies about 3kms south of Puerto Viejo de Sarapiqui which is where Mr. Leader found an interesting sounding restaurant. It sounded interesting to him because it was beside a river. Other than the fact that we went once the daily downpour had started so looking for odos was pointless, it turned out to be very good.

Having enjoyed the restaurant on our first day, there seemed little point going elsewhere so it has been our regular lunchtime haunt for all three days at La Selva. It is the Restaurante Vista El Rio Sarapiqui and has a 4.3 rating on good ol’ Google.

This morning my slightly haunting Howler Monkey dawn chorus was a little late; I heard nothing until about 04:30. When I did hear it, it was obviously very close. I poked my nose out of the front door and the troupe was in the trees right beside my lodge. I watched in fascination as they moved, mostly obscured, feeding from the leaves of the trees. Eventually some of the Howlers moved into more advantageous positions and I did what I could with my camera in the dim early morning light.

After my dawn entertainment and breakfast, we made our usual 07:00 start on the trails of La Selva. The weather had chosen today for a slow start with some lingering cloud from yesterday afternoon’s thrashing downpour, which continued through the evening. I began to wish that we’d made a slow start, too, ‘cos sod all was happening for the first two hours.

In the lull we found a sort of circular veranda affair to sit under and wait for things to brighten up. Around it, though, were some of the enchanting red frogs, which provided a little photographic diversion. They are about 2-3cms long and quite captivating. These are some of the chaps whose skin toxins are used to coat darts and spears with poison. Its relative is the equally small Green and Black Poison Dart Frog. An unknown (to me) lizard seemed to be keeping a wary eye on me as I entertained myself.

Eventually the day got going and so did our odo hunting. We found a couple of bits of habitat with a colourful new damselfly for me: Heteragrion erythrogastrum (Red-and-Black Flatwing). Mind you, given that this is my first time in Costa Rica, they’re all new to me.

The lads wanted to revisit a swamp they’d been to yesterday but I found the descent into the swamp a little too treacherous, even though I was now wearing my own Wellies, my luggage having joined me, so discretion being the better part of valour, I decided to leave my companions to it and waited patiently; well, mostly patiently.

Today’s meteorological thrashing started a little early at 12:30 so, once again, we found ourselves en route to lunch at our favourite restaurant in the driving rain. My companions both opted for the whole grilled Tilapia, which seems to be a very popular fish in Costa Rica. I stayed true to form with the Hamburguesa con Papas.

La Selva Biological Research Station covers 1600 hectares of lowland tropical rainforest and recovering habitat. It has accommodation for a limited capacity of 180 overnight guests. We are three of them and are staying in some of the lodges that the facility provides. I have to say that they are very good. The lodges have an excellent shower room and a decent bedroom area. My only complaint is that my fridge doesn’t work so I have to drink the beer fast before it warms up. My lodge has a double bed and a single bed each with a ceiling fan above. I have them running constantly, with the temperatures in the high 20s°C and the humidity high. Since my baggage is still missing, I’ve managed to dry a pair of laundered underpants beneath one of the fans.

The windows are curious in that there aren’t any. Or, at least, there is no glass in them. What look like normal windows are in fact empty lattice window frames backed only by insect screens. Given the temperatures, this is an excellent idea.

There is a veranda with two chairs at the rear of my room overlooking some of the forest. Sitting here with a JD & Coke would be great but beer has to do.

The weather pattern here, on what is known as the Caribbean slope of Costa Rica, is proving to be predictable at this time of year. We are experiencing sunny mornings that suit the hunting of odonata. Then, almost like clockwork, at about 13:00 every day the cloud has rolled in and rain starts, frequently becoming heavy, sometimes accompanied by thunder. The rain continues unabated all afternoon, through the evening and into some of the night. The rain, of course, puts a stop to any field activity.

We use the first part of the downpours for lunch. Today’s lunch was memorable because we watched a bedraggled 2-toed Sloth relocating itself in the trees beside the covered outside deck of our restaurant in the nearby town of Puerto Viejo de Sarapiqui. The cameras were in the car.

After lunch in the pouring rain there is little to do. Thus, bedtime tends to come early. I have usually awoken twice before midnight.

Early morning, though, can be quite entertaining. The dawn chorus here is a wonderful cacophony of a troupe of Howler Monkeys keeping in touch with each other. It starts at around 04:00. Listening through my insect screen windows was OK but I was so captivated by their sounds that I took myself out onto the veranda to sit on one of the chairs and listen to something previously heard only on TV. Very soon, bats were zooming over the grass adjacent to my lodge, too.

We’re leaving the lodges at 06:30 and making for breakfast to capitalize on the morning’s mostly sunny, at least dry, weather, though generally the dragonflies aren’t any more awake than I am at that time of day. Breakfast at La Selva consists of very good fried eggs – soft not rubbery – served with the Costa Rican mixture of rice and beans known as Gallo Pinto, accompanied by a choice of potatoes, tortillas, maybe fried plantain, and what looked like some kind of corn bread, though don’t quote me ‘cos I skipped much of that; the rice and eggs was plenty for me. You don’t go hungry. Oh, there were small bowls of tropical fruits, too. The black coffee to wash it down was also very good.

We hit the extensive network of trails soon after 07:00. Maps are provided but I find them less than clear. Fortunately Mr. Leader uses his offline navigation app as a guide.

Our morning excursions in La Selva have produced a new phenomenon for me, not usually being at the bleeding edge of science. There’s a delightful little dragonfly here which is thus far “undescribed”, and it is noted in the Costa Rican Field Guide as such. It’s in the genus Perithemis but has no species name yet; the common name used is Dancing Amberwing.

I spent some time on a solo mission back up near the entrance to the reserve itself. There were some flowering shrubs/trees being worked by a fast, darting Hummingbird. It was too quick for me to snap it in flight at the flowers but it took frequent rests from its frenetic feeding activity allowing me a perched shot. I think this is known as a Green-crowned Brilliant.

As I was bird-watching, a family of Peccaries wandered through the grassy area where I was sitting. They didn’t hang around but I managed a hasty grab shot. They’re also called Javelinas or Skunk-Pigs, though they are not actually a true pig.

When we returned from today’s sortie soon after 12:30, I called into reception, largely to find their opening hours, this being a Sunday. A very welcome surprise awaited me; my luggage had already been delivered. It had made it’s way to San José yesterday on the KLM flight and was delivered to La Selva this morning. I was expecting it today but not this early. Changing addresses makes it difficult for a lost bag to catch up with you at the correct location. My fear was that it would miss me and be delivered to a location that we’d just left. Happily, we were staying at La Selva for four nights which had given it time.

Relieved and overjoyed does not come close to describing my emotions. Having to wear the same shirt and same trousers for four days in a sweaty, humid climate, even I was beginning to find myself offensive. Along with my other essentials, the thought of some clean clothes was too exciting. Not that the clothes would stay clean for very long here but at least I could now change. At last, I also now have my monopod, which I use habitually to hold focus points on small subjects like insects. I had not been completely convinced that the courier service understood exactly where to deliver my bag but happily they apparently did.

My first four days here have been decidedly unsettling. Hopefully the coming days will prove to be more relaxing.

La Selva is one of the most famous wildlife locations in Costa Rica. Amazingly our leader had not visited before. However, such is the detail of his research that he had locations and species in mind

We set off to breakfast armed with our field kit. Due to missing baggage my field kit was somewhat depleted in that I had neither my Wellies nor my monopod. La Selva to the rescue, at least on the footwear front – they have a cupboard full of Wellies that you can borrow free of charge. Amazingly, the first pair I tried fitted me, perhaps not perfectly but close enough in a scrape.

After breakfast we set off. Mr. Leader was in search of a particular swamp which, he’d been told, was “behind the orchid house”. Access from the reception area to the reserve itself was across an impressive suspension bridge over a river. we happened across a few interesting examples of wildlife including Leafcutter Ants and an insect that looked for all the world like a leaf itself – what an amazing piece of evolution. There are apparently quite a few insects that mimic leaves but how convincing is this? Hopefully it wouldn’t get cut up by those ants.

The swamp proved to be quite a step beyond the Orchid House. Working our way along the track our leader spotted one of the delightful so-called Strawberry Poison Dart Frogs; they are only about 2cm long and look as though they are wearing blue denim jeans. I was captivated.

Temperatures were climbing and so, too, was the activity. Most exciting to those in the know, however, was a crepuscular dragonfly that was beginning to cease its activity and which we found hanging up with the aid of the frequently necessary Wellies and a hawk-eyed companion. Staggeringly, there were three of ’em hanging up together.

There were several species, all new to me being new to Costa Rica. I was particularly delighted to see one of the so-called Helicopter Damselflies, though it was not one of the largest or more colourful ones. Still, a Helicopter it was; our leader said a Bromeliad Helicopter, normally only seen in the tree canopy (with the Bromeliads) so we were fortunate that it had descended to give us a view of it.

In strange Wellies, my feet were beginning to hurt a little as we moved on from the swamp. Mr. Leader was in search of a specific river supposedly being home to a specific damselfly with few records. He found it. He and Herr German slithered down a treacherous looking muddy bank beside the bridge upon which we approached for a closer look. Remaining on the bridge over this beast’s habitat – I frequently opt for discretion over valour – I managed only a distant record shot.

My small airline water bottle was running low but happily, Mr. Leader turned round to head back for lunch. I was reaching my “had enough” point and managed to replenish my water at a drinking fountain.

Once again, we’d been lucky with the sunny morning weather but now, the clouds were rolling in for the afternoon dowsing. You seem to be able to set your watch by the arrival of the afternoon rain in Costa Rica at this time of year: “it’s started raining” – “oh, must be 13:00”.

Back on Wi-Fi at La Selva, I received a heartening message saying that my missing bag was on today’s flight KL759 and should arrive in San Jose this afternoon.

Later in the afternoon, I got another message asking me to contact the baggage department with my address, even though we (actually Mr. Leader) had updated it, having moved on from our night #1 address originally written in the lost baggage details. A little worrying but I managed to call them and dictate the address again. The agent seemed to want me to send my location some other way. Tricky. Eventually I managed to send a link to the La Selva website which provided a location on Google Maps.

My fingers remain crossed.

La Selva is probably one of the best known places in Costa Rica; it is a biological research station. It was to be our home for four nights after our first night at Hotel Villa Zurqui in the northern outskirts of San José. Hopefully it would be a damn sight better.

We checked out of Villa Zurqui and spent the sunny morning chasing odos in its grounds on the local river and pond beside the hotel. I think I nabbed about nine species but I’m sure my colleagues would’ve notched up a few more. In my opinion the most spectacular catch we made was this strikingly beautiful Mountain Flatwing (Heteragrion majus).

As the morning progressed clouds began rolling in and  ‘t was time to set off for La Selva. We were taking CR route 32, advertised by Mr. Leader as being notoriously bad for closures both due to heavy rain, and/or due to accidents. We avoided the latter but rain did begin.

Soon after the rain started the traffic stopped; it ground to a halt and remained that way for fully 45 minutes. Eventually the traffic began moving slowly again but very soon came to another complete standstill for a further 25 minutes. We had no idea how far ahead of us the problem was or what it might be. Traffic, mostly large trucks, ground passed in dribs and drabs going uphill in the opposite direction. The sporadic nature of it was very confusing. Our second stop eventually ended and we made some more progress but were soon stopped yet again for perhaps 15 minutes this time.

After more than 90 minutes in this dreadful traffic jam we finally moved off and with some relief ran through the cause of all this mayhem – a contraflow around a large team of men up poles beside the road doing something with the overhead cables.

Relieved to be beyond the problem and on the road again, after pausing at our leader’s favourite truck stop for lunch followed by a stressful shopping trip for some essentials due to my missing luggage, we finally made it to La Selva where we were checked into some very acceptable accommodation units. It felt like luxury compared to Hotel Villa Zurqui.

I must say that after just two days driving in Costa Rica has been something of a nightmare and very slow. In San José the traffic is simply manic, made worse by some very oddly designed junctions and bottlenecks. I was hoping that the open road beyond the capital might be better but apparently not.

This must be classed as a bucket list trip; I’m off to Costa Rica, which I’ve long wanted to visit, with a couple of dragonfly hunting buddies.

My route takes me on KLM from Heathrow Terminal 4 through Amsterdam then direct to San José, Costa Rica, avoiding the pain of the US as an intermediate point. To avoid an uncomfortable 0-dark-30 start from home, both for myself and driver Francine, I booked into the Premier Inn at T4 with a convenient connecting pedestrian bridge leading directly into the terminal. Excellent. Francine kicked me out of the car and I checked in at 15:30 on Wednesday 3rd June.

Then the fun started. Trailfinders had been trying to contact me: my 08:40 KLM flight to Amsterdam had been cancelled “for operational reasons”. Bother! However, KLM had rebooked me on another flight at 08:20. OK, that’d give me a little more time for my connection in Amsterdam. The kicker was that my new flight was British Airways operating out of T5 and here I was in a hotel at T4. There are both trains and public buses operating between terminals, there being no pedestrian route, but reception threw in the little gem that there was to be industrial action in the morning. Great!

My only possibly reliable solution was the HotelHopper shuttle bus which starts running at 04:25 but would get me there nice and early for a cost of £7. I had to go for it; I set my alarm for 03:30.

Naturally I got very little sleep, punctuated by a midnight shower.

Following my alarm, I dragged myself down to the unmarked pick-up point (a kind receptionist has shown me where it was) for 04:15. The bus duly arrived and deposited me at T5 20 minutes later.

I had already checked-in online but needed a bag drop. The automated machine grumped saying that it was unable to check my bag. This just keeps getting better. I was directed by one warm body to another warm body who could check my bag. Apparently the machine can’t deal with connecting flights. Finally my bag was tagged and disappeared.

I made my way through security to the airline lounge where I was greeted by a cheery message from BA warning of a potential delay “due to inclement weather”. B******s. The glamour of travel.

After a Bloody Mary, two G&Ts and a glass of fizz, I managed to board my replacement flight which happily slotted into a gap in the adverse weather and departed on time.

45 minutes later we landed at Schiphol where I went for an orienting wander to locate my international gate, followed by locating the KLM lounge to further dilute the blood in my alcohol stream.

Time to get to the gate where I met my German travelling companion who was on the same flight; we renewed our acquaintance from a previous Australia dragonfly trip. Boarding began on time. We sat. We sat some more. The Costa Rica flight HAD bumped into the aforementioned inclement weather. At this point it wasn’t too critical, the next stop being our destination, so I waited patiently after my welcoming glass of fizz. We departed almost an hour late.

It’s an 11-hour flight from Amsterdam to San José in Costa Rica. I was pretty comfortable up front but still got no sleep, despite trying, after watching the only two movies that appealed.

We landed and breezed through immigration to wait for our bags. Eventually Herr German’s bag turned up. I continued to wait and then heard an unintelligible announcement containing my name, which I did manage to pick out. Sinking-feeling-in-stomach time.

I was in Costa Rica but my bag was apparently still in Amsterdam. They’d had over two hours to get it loaded on the plane and failed. I filled in a lost baggage form providing our first night’s Costa Rica address but we’d be there for only one night. No, I didn’t know where we’d be moving on to. Our leader knows but he’s waiting outside the baggage hall. I gave them Mr. Leader’s email address as well. I was given KLM contact details and then exited the terminal to rejoice with Mr. Leader and Herr German.

I’ve got my carry-on camera bag containing one spare pair of underpants but precious little else.