Manuel Antonio National Park

First let me say I love this park, rainforest right down to the water, beautiful beaches that are mostly deserted (they only allow 600 people a day in) and an abundance of wildlife.
Having said that…
The approach and entrance are right out of Tijuana, circa 1970. The road is lined with random shanties serving as restaurants and nearly ½ mile of craft and souvenir stands whose operators hawk their goods aggressively, sometimes following you down the street. According to one of the many polizia patrolling the area the introduction of crack cocaine has adversely affected the entire area with crimes against tourist on the increase. It’s a gauntlet that needs to be run to get to the Park. We quickly took to using the wide beach to bypass the mob scene on the road. Easy ¼ mile walk at the waters edge from our hotel to the Park.
The entrance to the Park is across a river that can be crossed by rock hopping or wading at low tide, or can be crossed by donating a small coin, roughly 5 cents, to cross on a small rowboat. I laughed when I saw the boat and boatman, felt like crossing the River Styx.
We hired a guide for a 2 hour trip through the park the first time. This guy was amazing! I pride myself for a youth spent hunting and adventuring in the outdoors and having become very good at seeing what’s around me and I couldn’t hold a candle to this guy. He picked out things that I had trouble seeing even after he showed them to us. Sloths were the main attraction but we saw a variety of other wildlife and learned a lot about the ecosystem.
On another trip to the park we hiked to the farthest point, Playa Escondido. This is a gorgeous, secluded beach 2 miles from the entrance. I imagined sailing into the bay and dropping anchor like Sir Francis Drake may have done several centuries ago. We had to slide down a log 20’ to get to the beach, and of course shinny back up to leave. Did I mention that the log was wet and muddy? Wish I had a video of both, Keystone Cops have nothing on us.
It was so hot and muggy that the sweat ran off us like water, so much so that at one point it began to rain and we hardly noticed the difference. I felt like I had settled into the rainforest. Rain, humidity, heat…it’s all good. I never did get the bug treatment… not one bite the entire time and no nasty insect repellant either.
We were walking along a trail through dense jungle in a rainstorm when we suddenly heard howls from all around us…deep guttural groans and shrieks. Howler monkeys! If I hadn’t known what they were it would surely have raised the hair on my neck. Spent 30 minutes in their midst and never did get a clear look, just brief glimpses through the trees as they leaped from branch to vine. Quite an experience.
Perhaps the topper for odd occurrences came as we cooled off in the surf at Playa Gemela, a beach on a narrow neck of land between the Mangrove swamp and the ocean. Chest deep in the water with perhaps 5 or 6 others I noticed an extra large Iguana sprinting across the sand closely pursued by a park ranger. Closer, too close actually, inspection revealed that the overly large iguana was, in fast, a small (if 6’ can be considered small) salt water crocodile. Croc proceeded to dive into the surf, the same surf we were in, 50’ away. My partner and I looked at each other and left the water in a manly fashion. OK, we got the hell out of the water as fast as we could. The ranger said the croc was just confused and not really a danger. Uh huh.