This was our last full day in Costa Rica. Tomorrow we’ll be heading for San José airport.

We’d done the various cloud forest sites that Mr. Leader had planned, so today he thought we’d head down out of Monteverde further into a valley. He was in search of gomphid dragonflies for which he has an obsession.

Mercifully, instead of the usual stodgy panaderia breakfast, of which even Mr. Leader was tiring, we stopped at a very pleasant proper restaurant for a traditional Cost Rican breakfast of eggs and their rice/bean mixture. What a relief. Frankly, I don’t rate the Costa Rican baked goods – not a patch on the French.

Then we headed down out of the clouds towards a valley and into some sun. Passing a couple of mountain runnels, we stopped at a couple of bridges over rivers with some bank access. It was still early, about 08:30, so we had to wait. Eventually there was some activity but nothing we hadn’t seen before. This Slender Clubskimmer (Brechmorhoga praecox) posed favourably for us, though.

We continued, stopping at likely looking habitat spots. For me, the most interest was provided by butterflies, Orange Daggerwings (Marpesia berania), getting salts off the road, and a basking Boa Constrictor beside the road, which we did our best not to upset. I just love its eye.

We went ever higher up the other end of the valley and encountered little of interest except a few more butterflies. Dragons were there none and the clouds were beginning to move in.

We began retracing our steps, calling in on the runnels we had passed on our outbound journey. The weather had collapsed and the story remained the same; we saw little, though I did snag one more butterfly. I think this is Gmelin’s Banded Skipper (Autochton bipunctatus).

‘T was now gone lunchtime. We clambered back into the thick cloud blanketing Monteverde. Mr. Leader opted for his standard chicken and chips in a box. Herr German and I went for what was supposed to be a safe option of burger and chips. Wrong! The bun, which I left, was utterly dreadful; this rated as the most dire burger I’d experienced in Costa Rica. Chicken and chips would have been a much better option. Lesson learned.

I treated myself to a bottle of wine to sip for the afternoon. I’d also bought some cashew nuts to help it down but they proved to be unsalted. Bother! It was clearly not my day foodwise.

I received my “check-in is open” email and against all of today’s odds and using just my phone, I think I’ve managed that. There are some website activities that just feel very awkward on a small mobile phone screen.

At 14:00 the thunder and rain began.

Mr. Leader had suggested a last supper this evening out at a restaurant. We returned to the restaurant that had provided us with today’s enjoyable breakfast. From my viewpoint, it turned out to be a good choice; I enjoyed the best Shakshuka that I’ve ever had. At last I’ve had some success today on the food front.

We’re staying in a 3-bedroom house above Monteverde. I know I’m getting repetitive but I just have to show you our shower; the wiring to the shower head is particularly inventive, I thought. Can you imagine wiring like that in the UK where not even a 13amp socket is permitted in a bathroom? Once you’ve figured out that to get hot water it must be turned on only slightly, it does work and so far nobody has been zapped. [Try to ignore the pink.]

Mr. Leader spent his morning cup of coffee getting online and booking our tickets to the Reserva Biológica Bosque Nubosa Monteverde. Tickets were a stiff $29 each. The difficulty is that you have to book for a specific one of their three trails. Knowing nothing about the trails, it’s a bit of a crap shoot but surely not that critical.

After our usual crack of sparrow-fart departure to take in a panaderia, we duly arrived at the reserve car park, which is a 15-minute shuttle bus ride away from the reserve itself. We boarded the bus and arrived at the entrance shortly before 08:00. The weather was grey and overcast so things were not looking great. Now the importance of trail selection when booking became painfully obvious. Once on site with descriptions, we realized that our chosen trail was “sub-optimal” for odonata. Once you’ve coughed up your not insignificant entrance fee, can you opt for a different trail? No! Can you do your chosen trail and then do another? Well, yes, but that’s another whopping $29. You have to be friggin’ kidding. $29 is not the entrance fee to the park but to a single trail. Jeez! Nowhere else works like that. This place is a complete rip-off, plain and simple. I couldn’t give it few enough stars.

In a somewhat irritated frame of mind at the way this reserve was “run”, we set out on our 3.5km trail. They at least allowed us to start before our appointed time of 08:45 [amazing, really, given the other restrictions]. At Mr. Leader’s meticulous pace – three steps, examine every leaf thru’ binoculars; three more steps – we ambled our way around in about two hours. Mind you, there was clearly no rush. I did see a handful of uncooperative butterflies but other than that, just leaves and very many of them. It was still overcast so the concept of shelling out a second extortionate $29 each for the more appropriate (shorter – 1.5km) trail, one with water, was a non-starter. We boarded the return shuttle bus.

Mr. Leader had been picking the brain of one of the local guides and had got a pointer to a road leading to another reserve: La Reserva Bosque Nubosa Santa Elena. [I’m sure you’ll have figured it out but all these Bosque Nubosa references mean Cloud Forest.] It was actually only about 6kms from our rental house with the pink, curiously wired electric shower. We set off a little before midday to get there.

Now, all the roads around Monteverde, which nestles beneath very many lumpy bits of land, must be 1-in-6 or steeper, and the majority of those are gravel/stone/rock with just a few intervening short runs of tarmac. We began climbing (slowly, the car is underpowered) out of Monteverde and fairly soon left the overcast murk behind. We had won some sunshine.

The road leading to our next intended reserve wound its way up the side of one of the local high lumps of land. Such roads are frequently crossed by “mountain” streams which provide good habitat for dragonflies and this road was no exception. Mr. Leader stopped our car three times beside such habitat. In the welcome sunshine, quite quickly our day went from zero to hero as we finally had subjects to point our cameras at. We’re very familiar with the Sympetrum genus of dragonflies in the UK, what we call the darters. this red job is an Americas cousin, the Cardinal Meadowhawk (Sympetrum illotum), meadowhawk being what Americans call darters. The blue and black damselfly is a Sky-blue Dancer (Argia medullaris).

Approaching 13:30 we still hadn’t arrived at our second reserve and my worms were biting. Being 6kms from our house, the thought of driving back down into town for lunch, then returning, didn’t appeal. There did, however, seem to be a restaurant of sorts at the reserve. We completed the climb to the reserve with hopes of food.

Sure enough, there was a restaurant within the reserve. Furthermore, there was no entry fee to a reserve with four trails. How different is that from the morning affair? We wandered in and my spirits soared at the sight of a hamburger on the menu. I have had nothing but excellent papas [chips] in Costa Rica and this basic greasy spoon restaurant was no exception.  Our substandard home chippie needs lessons from the Costa Ricans.

After our late lunch the boys hit one of the trails but I stayed to relax watching some of the England v. Croatia World Cup opener being screened on the restaurant TV, not that I usually find footie in any way relaxing. Looks like we won 4-2, after throwing the lead away a couple of times. I was waiting for the good old “snatching defeat from the jaws of victory” scenario while I was watching but it seems we got away with it.

I didn’t miss much on the trail, mercifully. There was, though, a poor large hawker-type dragonfly – what the Americans call darners – trapped in the restaurant and flying around frantically looking for a way out. It eventually hung up in the roof and we managed to get pictures of it. It’s been identified by those in the know as Turquoise-tipped Darner (Rhionaeschna psilus).

Back at the house, the thunder and rain began at 17:00.

We are at 1500m in the town of Monteverde; actually we are a very slow couple of kilometres outside the town up one of the many steep gravel/stone/rock roads.

I had unwound from the slightly traumatic inbound journey using both beer and wine, before retiring early, as usual.

This morning, there I was having a relaxing cup of coffee when suddenly 15 minutes to departure was announced, that being 07:00. I managed to muster myself, mostly.

Once in the car, we were off initially to a panaderia to get the bake-a-holics some breakfast. I opted for a calzone ‘cos I thought it might be less messy to eat in the car than would be an open slice of pizza. Then we headed for the Curi-Cancha Reserve.

The weather was a little indifferent but dry, with occasional brighter spells. The entry fee was $25 each. Looking for dragonflies we seemed to be in a minority of three; everyone else appeared to be either armed with a spotting scope or part of a group with a guide carrying a spotting scope. Costa Rica being a Mecca for birders, these reserves are largely for twitchers for whom I’m sure the staff have more knowledge. For us, though, the reception staff professed a basic lack of knowledge of dragonflies but pointed us to a pond or two which weren’t actually marked on the trail map – there’s another clue. Off we set.

The first, larger pond did provide some odonata interest. I must say, though, that the highlight for me was provided by a stunning butterfly, the magnificent Morpho blue. There are some 30 Morpho species, all about the size of a side plate with wingspans touching 12cms. The exciting thing is that not only did it sit but it sat with its wings open and at an advantageous angle. We’d seen them quite commonly throughout our trip but always flying through, which is normally all anyone sees. It was a rare and special moment. I think this one is the Peleides Blue Morpho (Morpho peleides).

The weather deteriorated; we deployed umbrellas whilst in search of the second smaller pond. There was a small amount of shelter from the elements which enabled us to snag an attractive red damselfly, the Montane Firetail (Telebasis garleppi), which is all we could see on that pond. It was, indeed, small.

It was about now, wanting to snap the habitat, that I realised that my trouser’s cargo pocket was empty; it should have contained my phone. Arghhh! I prayed that I had simply left it in the house in my rush to depart with the 15-minute warning, rather than dropped it somewhere. I couldn’t imagine that I had dropped it but doubt nags away.

Rain persisted. We retired to reception’s café to sit it out and hope for an improvement. We are essentially nestling up against the central mountain range, the spine of Costa Rica, and cloud and rain seemed to be drifting over from the Caribbean side. We must have sat for about an hour looking somewhat gloomy but at last it seemed to brighten a little.

We stirred ourselves again and headed back out, this time heading for a river viewpoint. The trail leading down was quite straightforward and we ended up on a metal platform overlooking the rocky river about 20m below. The river was narrower than I had expected, for no particular reason other than that this did feature on the trail map – maybe 4m wide.

At first there was little of interest until Herr German spotted one of Costa Rica’s splendid flatwing damselflies. A second was spotted in the trees of the opposite river bank. Being well above the actual river, we were up at tree canopy level so our access was pretty good. This character, the Blue Flatwing (Philogenia peacocki), caused a considerable stir amongst the cognoscenti so I imagine I’m lucky to have seen it.

At 14:00 we wandered back to our car to go in search of lunch. Our restaurant was pleasant enough; it had a children’s hamburger on the menu but completely lacked an adult burger. Curious. I settled for lasagne Bolognese with salad.

Driving back up towards our house we ended up in the cloud and rain. Yucko!

Once back at base, with enormous relief, I was reunited with my phone; I’d left it on charge in my bedroom.

We can’t see a darn thing but cloud out of the windows – we’re in it.

We left Liberia for Monteverde today. We were intending to spend the morning at another reserve southeast of Liberia before getting on the road proper to Monteverde, so we left our collection of bags in one of the motel rooms to be collected at around midday.

Where we ended up was down another makeshift road at the Lomas de Barbudal Biological Reserve. This country is certainly rich in biological reserves. No officials appeared to be present so we parked up and sauntered down the main track from the entrance. We were early, naturally, reaching the first bit of river but there were a few damsels which amused us awhile.

The next step to a signposted waterfall, maybe 1½kms distant, took forever with the boys minutely examining every stream/flush, of which there were many in the well forested surroundings, on the way. I did what I could without wellies but again, was a little hampered. We finally made the waterfall by about 10:30. It was OK – not spectacular but OK.

Having left our bags in one motel room, we said we’d be back by 12:00 to collect them. We made it with a little time to spare, not that the owners would have minded, loaded our bags into the car then called in to a local hotel for lunch. I went for a filet mignon to try Costa Rican beef. It was tasty enough but smothered in onion and red pepper gravy so I’m still not entirely sure. It was, at least, real food served with the inevitable papas [chips]. I am yet to have a bad chip in Costa Rica, whereas I can’t remember the last time I had a good chip from one of our own fish ‘n’ chip shops.

After lunch, I thought we were done for the day and were on the road heading for our last stop, Monteverde. Wrong! We fairly soon dived off the highway onto yet another gravel road heading for Catarata Llanos del Cortés.

Catarata Llanos del Cortes is a popular public swimming hole beneath a sizeable waterfall, much more impressive than the waterfall from our morning excursion. Despite the boisterous public though, there are odos in the waterside vegetation which, of course, is what we were interested in. It may not be spectacularly coloured but there’s something classily impressive about this Dusky Dancer (Argia translata).

After an hour or so, at last we mounted the steep staircase back up to the car park. I felt completely wrung out.

Now we were where I thought we were going to be an hour or so ago, heading for Monteverde. It was about 15:00 and we had 85kms to do. Easy, right? Well, the first part of the journey was easy, on a motorway. When we turned off, the fun began.

First, though, soon after the turn off we found a town with the necessary supermarket for some beer and a panaderia for the baked goods fans. We’d be at Monteverde, our last location before returning home, for four nights so I bought two 6-packs of Imperial, my favoured local beer, and an expensive bottle of red wine in case the beer didn’t stay cold enough on the remainder of our journey. The expensive wine was expensive because it was an Italian import but it was the only one with a screw cap and, yes, I do have a corkscrew but I suspected I wasn’t going to want to faff about.

Back on the road with our purchases, we found the landscape leading to Monteverde not exactly mountainous in the Alpine sense but more of a a never ending collection of large, rounded lumps of land, the road being a collection of constant hairpin bends with steep inclines and descents making our poor little underpowered rental car struggle. The satnav suggested that 35kms was going to take 75 minutes. Suddenly, kilometres were ticking off slower than do miles. [I hate miles.]

After what felt like an age, we made it to within 10kms of our target. Then we really slowed down [!]; we left any tarmac behind and were once again on stony, rocky, steep tracks. It was raining by now, too, so the stony, rocky, steep tracks were becoming slick. Street lights began switching on; it was almost 17:00.

We still had 6kms to go – about 15 minutes said the satnav. Finding these rental places in daylight is hard enough but in the clouds, the rain and the dark, it would be damn tricky. We prayed that the location marker had been accurately placed this time. Mercifully it was accurately placed. At the pin location, Mr. Leader recognised our entrance from the description in the documentation. The owner, who lives on site, greeted us and showed us around. We have a very pleasant 3-bedroomed house with a view of the surrounding hills/mountains – when you can see them. Monteverde itself is down in the valley below us.

Having crossed to the Pacific side of the central backbone mountain range of Costa Rica, today we headed back up to the mountain range to visit another volcano: El Rincón de la Vieja. Mr. Leader had been disappointed at his two pretty much abortive attempts at the previous volcano courtesy of the weather and still wanted his montane species.

We set off at 06:45 and called into a coffee shop for a caffeine fix and breakfast, if something resembling a thinly meat-filled turnover can be called breakfast. Herr German is very keen on baked goods – at any time of day. Then we made the 25km journey to the volcano and its park.

There is a circular trail of about 3½km which we set off on soon after 07:30. The first thing of interest that we spotted was a Coati nosing around in the grass as we approached our intended trail. Coatis are Racoon family, I believe, and usually have more obviously ringed tails than this character.

Being so early (as usual) things began slowly but a damselfly did oblige us with some pictures. This is a Cerulean Dancer (Argia anceps). At least, I think it is. Argias are a bit of a bugger to identify. The Argia genus seems to take the place of our European Coenagrion genus – they’re largely blue and black and there’s a lot of related species.

The route provided some side shoots overlooking  fumaroles and bubbling pits of volcanic mud. This sucker was active. I was surprised to see a dragonfly or two flying about over such a toxic environment.

With Mr. Leader meticulously studying almost everything we passed, the going was slow. About 2/3rds of the way round, interest did pick when we found one of his favoured gomphid dragonflies. I can hardly bring myself to write this but this character is allegedly (I relied on Mr. Leader to identify it) a Lowland Knobtail (Epigomphus tumefactus). I think I’d change my name by deed poll given that handle.

A little further along, my two companions began minutely examining a mountain stream. I was ill equipped wearing walking boots (but my feet were comfortable and I could get my boots off at the end of the day). I walked on to the top of the next incline and sat down to wait. Whilst waiting, I was entertained by industrious Leafcutter Ants carrying what looked like impossibly large loads back to their nest. Ants really are amazing creatures.

Almost an hour later, the time had ticked well past midday and I was still waiting. We’d been on this 3½km trail for 5 hours and I could no longer hear my buddies voices. I knew they couldn’t leave without passing me but, having had enough, I began my own trek back towards the exit.

At the exit I found a tap to fill my depleted water bottle and a shady wall against which to lean. At almost 13:30 I spotted two familiar figures approaching.

I was mightily relieved that they decided not to do the second trail, which had been the original plan, before they’d spent six hours on the first.

Instead, we headed back down the mountain into Liberia in search of lunch – another roadside fried chicken and chips delight,though less delightful than the first.

I will not be sorry to get away from bakeries and fast food chicken, and back to some real, quality food.

Hitherto we have been on the Eastern side of Costa Rica, on the so-called Caribbean slope. The country is divided, pretty much down the middle, by a volcanic mountain chain, to the west of which is the Pacific slope.

Today, we bad farewell to our hill-billy shack in Santo Domingo, taking our rubbish with us as instructed. With yesterday’s weather having been a let down, Mr. Leader wanted another crack at Volcán Tenorio, so we repeated the 5km, 30-minute drive along the roughest roads I’ve ever seen, roads best suited really to Toyota Land Cruisers. Our little Toyota rental car managed admirably when driven judiciously and we were wondering it has permanent 4WD.

We drove through more cloud/mist than yesterday and predictably arrived at a socked-in Volcán Tenorio base camp. At least base camp had a decent, though expensive, breakfast. (It cost more than yesterday’s excellent tilapia lunch.)

The situation had not improved after brekkie so our leader took the decision to cut our losses and seek better fortune by crossing over the range to the Pacific slope. This was our next destination anyway, we just hit the road earlier in the day than originally planned. Starting in the mizzle, which then turned to real rain, something of a repeat of yesterday, we were soon descending on decent tarmac roads heading for strange patches of blue in the sky ahead of us. The patches grew bigger. It looked as though we’d made the right decision.

Mr. Leader had not intended to be half a day ahead of schedule so decided to try the Parque Nacional Palo Verde. It was on his itinerary anyway but not quite this soon. We turned off a roundabout to find ourselves back on gravel roads – real gravel this time, considerably smoother than our recent stone/rock affairs. We began our approach.

Naturally our approach was punctuated by stops at interesting looking habitat along the road. There were a couple of frequently seen striking dragonfly species which provided frequent opportunities for decent photographs. The first of these, with extensive black patches covering more than half its wings, was the Black-winged Dragonlet (Erythrodiplax funerea). The second, which we saw so frequently that it almost became boring [just kidding] was the very green looking Great Pondhawk (Erythemis vesiculosa).

What did we cover, almost 25kms of rough road? When we actually arrived the park was closed “because they were fire-fighting”. Bull***t! We’d have seen smoke and there was none. Mr. Leader said there had been a fire but that was more than a week ago before Herr German and I arrived in Costa Rica. Wouldn’t it have been nice to let us know at the beginning of the road that the park was closed rather than at the end of it? Nonetheless, the habitat outside the park continued to be very productive as we crawled our way back along the gravel making several more stops.

There was one particularly interesting, though slightly frustrating stop on our return. We stumbled into a population of the diminutive and very unusual damselfly, the Citrine Forktail (Ischnura hastata). What is so unusual about it? Well, there is a population of this species on the Azores in our European neck of the woods; a population that reproduces parthenogenically – there are no males. The unfertilized eggs produce only females. All other populations of Citrine Forktail include males and reproduce conventionally. So, I was very grateful to add it to my collection, though mild frustration crept in since I snagged only a mature female.

It was pushing 14:00,  way gone beer o’clock and lunch o’clock. We finally regained the real roads and Mr. Leader swung off into a roadside restaurant. It sported a cold cabinet branded “Corona”, a Mexican beer brand, but did not actually sell beer, only soft drinks. My thirst was disappointed. Happily, Costa Rica does a good line in fresh fruit juices. My lunch included a tongue dish, allegedly typically Cost Rican according to my server. I’ve never had tongue hot before. [Keep your comments to yourselves.]

After lunch we continued to our hotel. Or we tried. And failed. We just didn’t see it. We went around again, following the GPS navigation, and failed again. This was very worrying. We called into a restaurant to ask some locals for help and they directed us very confidently to the wrong place – another hotel. “Another hotel”, complete with guard carrying a sidearm, did not know our hotel but let us use their phone for directions. It seems that the location pins on the maps are misplaced, hence satnavs have you chasing your tail.

On the third trip around we found our hotel, which is really a motel. It’s run by an expat American which mostly conquered any language barrier. The rooms seem very good with essential air-conditioning given the outside temperature of about 30°C, though we are right on top of a rather noisy main road. Much of the traffic is trucks with their occasional compression braking making a racket.

Our proprietor did not have a supply of cold beer BUT he knew a man who would deliver. We’d been working well over 30°C for half a day and I was desperate so, quite honestly, $22 for a cold 6-pack delivered to your door was good value. There was a fridge in the room to keep it cold, too.

Mr. Leader wants to hit another volcano tomorrow. We’ll see. At least we now know where our rooms are.

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.