The Brel Chronicles

It is 39 degrees under a hot, hot sun. Perfectly tanned and toned bodies in string bikinis surround us. Miles of white sand beach stretch before us. We sip caipirnhas while listening to the sounds of bossa nova.

No, this not one of Brendan’s dreams. Welcome to Rio.

After a brief stint in the Canadian cold and snow (congrats again on the nuptials Mel and Chris!), we have returned to life as it was meant to be. Rio is more spectacular than expected and we’re fitting right in. Well…truth be told, people are pointing and laughing at Brendan’s white skin (this, despite his having spent the last two months in Central America). And our Belizean weight gain (thanks fry jacks and fritters) isn’t doing much for our bods in swimwear. And Mel’s chest is grossly inadequate here, where boob jobs are mandatory for all women over 15 years old. But really, Rio is great.

We’re staying on Copacaba Beach, just down from Ipanema Beach (yes, you should be humming both Copacabana and the Girl from Ipanema right now).

We spent the morning hanging with JC-see picture below. At 120 feet tall, situated at the top of Corcovado Mountain, JC is watching over Rio – though there doesn’t seem to be a lot of guilt going on around here. And wasn’t there something about some commandments? Can’t seem to find proof of those anywhere.

And like everyone else who visits Rio, we took the tram car up Sugar Loaf Mountain – the view was well worth it. 39 degrees in a city of 6 million people does create quite the haze though, so the pics don’t really do it justice.

We are returning to the Great White North Feb 19th with a side trip to Mel and Chris’ wedding (yay!) and back to T.O. with a stopover in Peterborough to visit B’s dad, returning to T.O. Wed the 27th.

We have limited time in Toronto before we leave for Brazil March 2, but we’d like to see as many of you as possible, so please join us for dinner and/or cocktails at Teatro.

Friday, February 29, 7:00 pm onwards

Hope to see you all then!

By the Numbers

• Number of sweet rum drinks consumed: innumerable
• Greatest number of bug bites on Mel at any one time: 85
• Number of books read since beginning our adventure: Mel: 10; Brendan: 1
• Average number of times Brendan ate lobster per day during the last week of the season: 2.1
• Hours spent in the sun during the last month: Mel: 120; Brendan: 3.5
• Percentage of meals Brendan improved by adding Marie Sharp’s hot sauce: 98%
• Percentage of days Mel had bacon for breakfast in Belize: 90%
• Number of times Brendan rehearsed the words and moves to Mr. Roboto for his karaoke debut: 9 (but then backed out of his performance)
• Number of Brel disagreements about personal hygiene: 3 (don’t ask)

Moments we’d Rather Forget
• The concrete bed, the gravelly pillows and cockroaches at our first cabina in Placencia
• The amount of nachos and other unhealthy Mexican food consumed
• The bugs – especially the ones who anaesthetize their victims before stinging – unknowingly leaving you in incredible pain
• Mel attempting to learn to dance the Punta at a local club – arms wrapped around a large Belizean woman, gyrating and shaking her booty in rhythm to someone who has clearly been punta-ing for a long, long time

Highlights
• Mel successfully combating her snorkelling demons and discovering a new world, hand-in-hand with Brendan
• Surviving the crazy couples mud massage at Maruba – and having the guts to post the pics online
• Caving, birding, rapelling and all our other attempts to make ourselves appear less lazy then we’ve actually been
• Realizing our blog has received almost 6,000 hits – and not all of them were by Mel’s Dad

One of the challenges of our trip this year has been trying to find a way to tie it all together and give it some kind of meaning – a meaning beyond the tropical drinks and wine, foodie adventures and beaches.

We’ve decided to find a way to give back to the communities that are welcoming us.

The Brel Drop in the Ocean Foundation will select a cause in each country we visit, and do what we can to make a difference. At times, we’ll donate money; at times we’ll volunteer our services. With limited time, and even more limited budgets, we know we won’t be changing the world – but if we can do one small thing, in each country we visit, our hope is that the Brel adventures will live on.

And so the Brel Drop in the Ocean Foundation begins its work…

Placencia has a huge stray cat population-some of the friendliest, albeit hungriest cats we have ever seen. Cats and kittens are everywhere. Our mission here? Ambush some of the repeat moms and pay to have them spayed. Coincidentally, there will be a veterinarian visiting Placencia this weekend – so the plan is to help reduce the stray population before we leave Belize. Our rationale: every spayed stray cat prevents the birth of dozens of litters, and the birth of their kittens, and their kittens, and their kittens….

And when we return to Costa Rica for our flight back to Toronto, we will be making a contribution to Kids Saving the Rainforest – an organization that is currently placing monkey bridges above the roads in Manuel Antonio to prevent the electrocution of the Titis by electric wires. If you’re up to speed on our blog, you already know there are only 1200-1500 Titi monkeys remaining in Costa Rica.

If you’re interested in helping out the Brel Drop in the Ocean Foundation, or this month’s causes of stray cats and Titi monkeys, you can increase our resources by sending an Interac e-mail transfer to pichemelanie@hotmail.com. We promise your dollars will go to worthy causes – and we’ll report everything back via the Chronicles.

We are spending our last week in Belize in Placencia, a small village on the very end of a long, narrow peninsula with beaches on one side and mangroves on the other. Placencia’s claim to fame is having the narrowest street in the world – 3 feet wide – that strings together its various shops, restaurants and guest houses. There’s a fascinating ex-pat community here – not quite hippie, yet stoner-esque with a story to tell. The Belizeans continue to be a warm, welcoming bunch.

To prep ourselves for our upcoming sea voyage in Brazil, we spent a day on a catamaran, sailing and snorkelling among the coral and sea life. The rest of our days have mostly been spent hanging out at the beach – 16 miles long, and rumoured to be the best in Belize. We have been diligently working on our tans – Mel is aiming for deep bronze, and Brendan is, well, apparently satisfied with dark white.

We are counting down the days of sunshine, before our temporary return to Toronto from February 19th to March 1st. Your stories of snow and cold have not helped, but we’re nonetheless looking forward to seeing as many of you as possible.

1. New underwear manoeuvre: Anticipation
This strategy involves a pre-emptive strike: the application of any of the aforementioned underwear extension manoeuvres (continuation, double-dipping, inside-out and commando) in anticipation of the potential unavailability of laundry services.
2. The resident gecko issued with every hotel room in the tropics is highly preferable to the giant, resident cockroach.
3. It is best to shield Mel from said giant, resident cockroach.
4. Moving from a $600 a night hotel to a $40 a night hotel sucks. King size bed to a single: sucks even more.
5. Two dollars US can actually buy an entire half-pound of bacon for breakfast. Bacon lovers unite!
6. Belize is the hot sauce capital of the world. Easier going in than coming out, even for Brendan.
7. Bug spray, Benadryl and Caladryl can actually be your best friends. That is if you actually want to step outside and have a bridesmaid’s dress to wear in less than a week.
8. Tracking scarlet macaws requires lots of uphill hiking and 5 a.m. wake-ups. This was not clearly outlined in the brochure.
9. The fact that Belize’s national language is English, does not necessarily mean communication will be any easier. Strangely, there were no classes offered in the Creole/Garifuna/Mayan/English language.
10. Brendan is actually capable of focusing on work while sitting on a hammock on a dock –albeit for very short bursts of time.

B post snorkel

Another new world has opened up to Mel – the world under the sea.

Over the years, many of you have witnessed Mel’s sad attempts at snorkelling: the anxiety attacks, the claustrophobia, her refusal to put her head in the water.

Well we are pleased to report that Mel has successfully combated her snorkel demons. This was an especially important phobia for her to overcome, given our travel plans this year include sailing a tall ship through Brazil, spending two weeks aboard a boat in the Galapagos Islands, and cruising through the Greek islands.

Belize is renowned as having some of the best diving and snorkelling in the world, and we were not disappointed: crazy-coloured fish, an octopus, a stingray, a bunch of stuff we didn’t recognize, and of course, some great coral.

We’ve been staying at a dive resort all week (www.hamanasi.com) in Hopkins Village, and are headed to Placencia tomorrow, where we will continue to explore the world under the sea…

While Mel was communing with the Mayans, I pulled myself away from my computer for a little adrenaline. Belize has the largest underground cave system in the world, some sections of which have collapsed, creating massive sinkholes.

One of these sinkholes, the 300 foot so-called Black Hole, was rappelled by a crazy Canadian once, and he eventually made a business out of taking other insane people to do it to. I decided I was one of those people. It was awesome.

Ian Anderson’s Cave Branch Jungle Lodge
http://www.cavesbranch.com/

Went to see some Mayan ruins – Xunantunich and Cahal Pech. Very cool. Got a bit distracted with some new birds.

Trogon

With Phase 1 of Operation Bird Discovery successfully implemented in Costa Rica, we have moved on to the second and more aggressive phase – Operation BD Belize.

l have spent most the week stalking birds. Scarlet macaws, toucans, trogons, kingfishers and parrots are some of the more than 75 bird specifies – yes, 75 – that I’ve spotted and identified in the last 3 days. That’s 50 new birds that will be added to my “Life List” – a birding term used by people as obsessed as me. I’m looking forward to a Canadian summer so I can actually check out Canadian birds and add them to the list too. I seem to only remember robins, blue jays, and Toronto pigeons and geese. Embarrassing, but true.

I did spend a day at the world’s only jaguar preserve – of course the jaguars, pumas, ocelots and jaguarundis don’t come out to play during the day – but I did see some recent jaguar paw prints, which might mean I just missed him. Maybe.

If you’re wondering why Brendan is noticeably absent from this week’s blogs – don’t worry, I haven’t fed him to a crocodile (yet) – he’s been busy writing about all those great hotels we went to last month. Only thing better than being a travel writer? Being a travel writer’s g-friend.

Leith: do not read this entry.
It seems as though our planes have been gradually getting smaller and smaller.
Not looking forward to the return flight to Canada – via Canada Goose?

Caving

Originally uploaded by pichemelanie

Today, I continued the quest to conquer my fears. Up next: small, dark underground places, and, get ready for it….bats.

Dressed as Sporty Mel once again, I donned my headlamp and descended into a mile long cave at Blue Hole National Park, located in one of Belize’s oldest jungles. I climbed over giant boulders, hoisted myself up steep passages and basically did whatever I needed to do to make my way through a series of dark, wet caves. I may not get points for style (I’m not sure I was supposed to crawl or drag my butt as much as I did), but I’m pleased to report I made it to the end of the cave – only to be welcomed by hundreds of bats. Ok, so maybe most of them were sleeping, but still, I was pretty brave. I celebrated my victories with a dip in a large, sapphire blue sinkhole, fed by underground streams.

Fear of small, dark, underground places: check. Fear of bats: alive and well.

We were welcomed into Belize today – well, at least the part of Belize which is a luxurious jungle fantasy spa. We are staying at Maruba Jungle Lodge (www.maruba-spa.com), a quirky, neo-tribal chic, boutique resort, in the middle of nowhere. Our room, in keeping with the style to which we have become accustomed, includes a giant mosaic-tiled Jacuzzi in the sitting room, set within a jungle atmosphere complete with palapa roofing, carved tribal masks and fresh hibiscus flowers and palm fronds in every nook and cranny. The bottle of Henkel champagne, chilling as we arrived, was a great thirst-quencher after our morning of travel through Costa Rica, El Salvador and finally, Belize – all before 10 a.m. A constant soundtrack of groovy ethnic lounge tunes set the tone throughout the resort – popular with dj blend, of course.

The highlight of the day was certainly the couples mud massages. Although not the first ones of this trip, they do certainly win the award for uniqueness, and in fact have been granted the inaugural Random Factor designation. We should have known something was up when they insisted we bring our cameras.

Our treatment began much like any other – outside in a cabina, mostly naked. Except for the fact, of course, that Brendan was handed a tiny pear of disposable thong ‘manties’ to wear for the treatment. This was our first sign to check our inhibitions (and dignity) at the bamboo door. The results of the treatment pretty much speak for themselves. It concluded with us being bathed by two beautiful Belizean women, in a massive open air Mayan tub. Random Factor: 9, a.k.a. RF9.

Can’t get much more random than that – except, of course, for the elusive RF 10.

Happy Birthday Mel.

 UPDATE: the article about Maruba has now been published!
To read the full article, click here and scroll down to the second article.

By the Numbers…
• Number of identified birds in Operation Bird Discovery – 47
• Pounds of gallo pinto (rice and beans) consumed – 6
• Number of monkey photos taken by Monkey Photographer BP – 1,000+
• Percentage of random foods Brendan made Mel eat – 24
• Number of Brel disagreements – 3 (that we’re counting, anyhow)
• Percentage of time Mel spent whining while hiking – 30%
• Number of hours Brendan claimed to be working when really, he was just surfing the internet – 26
• Ratio of Freebies to Personal Money spent – 2:1

Moments We’d Rather Forget…
• The 2.5 hour local bus ride to Dominical – spent standing in the aisle (until the whining finally got someone to give up their seat)
• Mel’s sun rash and Brendan’s food poisoning
• The plastic covered bed in Monteverde – shielding us from bed bugs perhaps?
• The many impossibly slow internet connections and the ridiculous amount of time we spent uploading content to the blog, and photos to Flickr

Highlights
• Titi Monkeys eating bananas out of Mel’s hand (I know, you’re not supposed to feed the monkeys, but have you seen the pics? Who could resist!?)
• Waking up in Mel Gibson’s bed with waves crashing just metres away
• Being treated like VIP’s – when we all know this just isn’t the case
• The rooms at Arenas del Mar, the privacy of Latitude 10, the clubhouse at Rancho Pacifico and the service at Tabacon Hot Springs
• Meeting great Ticos (locals) and fascinating tourists – hola!
• Mastering some great salsa and merengue moves – and being applauded while trying them out in at a local restaurant
• Realizing people are actually reading our blog – thanks! We love the comments, so please keep ‘em coming!

We knew we couldn’t face any of you back home, if we didn’t participate in Costa Rica’s number one touristy adventure – the canopy zip line. For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, a zip-line is a series of cables strung over valleys, rivers and above the rainforest canopy (treetops).

Tour operators would have you believe that the canopy tour has something to do with wildlife, and spotting animals, but once they strap you into a climbing harness, clip you into a pulley and push you off a 100 foot platform, trust me – nature is the last thing on your mind.

My internal narrative went something like this: “Wow, this is high. Why am I doing this again? Why do I always feel the need to please Brendan – haven’t I already proven I love him by washing his dirty laundry and putting up with his nagging? Well, the view from here is kinda cool and I’ll probably see some cool stuff. OK, here we go. Expletive. Expletive. Expletive. I’m glad my Mom’s not here to hear these words. Oh god when will this be over? Expletive. If my eyes are closed and I’m zooming so fast, how the heck am I supposed to see anything? OK, almost done. I hope Brendan isn’t taking pictures – this can’t be a flattering angle. Excellent – I can see the platform. Ok, phew, I made it.”

Brendan’s internal narrative: “Cool. Can’t this thing go any faster? I can NOT believe I got Mel to do this. What the hell was THAT bird call? Shrill, squawking, almost shriek-like… Oh god, that was Mel. I’m so embarrassed….”

We’ve spent the last 3 nights at the very unique and posh Rancho Pacifico, located high on a seaside mountaintop, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. We likened spending time at RP to being invited to a friend’s – albeit a very, very rich friend’s – private estate. Our 1,400 square foot 2 bedroom villa, complete with private plunge pool, is also an occasional celebrity hangout – this blog’s title is not a coincidence.

RP’s resident howler monkeys were consistent with their 5:30 a.m. wakeup calls-while this hour was a challenge for the sleepy Mr. Powell, it was the perfect time to continue Operation Bird Discovery. Someone recently accused me of turning ‘birding’ into a corporate project – and I suppose the detailed plans, SMART goals and the Excel spreadsheet, might be evidence of that – I guess I haven’t really separated from my work persona just quite yet…) Nonetheless, we made significant progress on Operation Bird Discovery, with our new friend Jon from New York, and we’re able to spot the much-desired trogon birds, the aricari, and at long, long, last, the toucan. While I’d like to pretend we accomplished all of our early birding via strenuous daily hikes, truth be told, there was at least one morning where we birded from our terrace, in our plush robes, coffee in hand…

We continued our weekly spa treatment ritual, taking part in daily massages, body scrubs – and yes, Brendan even got a facial – see pic below.

 Our magazine article on Rancho Pacifico has been published! Read the full article here.

After all this silly luxury I thought it was time to get down with the peeps. You know, keep it real. Otherwise known as the local bus. (Chicken-free)

I assured Mel there was “hardly any” chance of having to stand on the public bus to Dominical. As long as we were there a little early it would be no problem.

At about 15 minutes waiting for our taxi things started to get a little tense. Arriving at the terminal at exactly the departure time to see a huge queue and a full luggage compartment I could feel Mel’s eyes burning into the back of my skull. Five minutes later, straddling our bags and crammed standing into the back of the sweaty, dust-choked bus, the burning had become a scorching inferno. Then the whining began.

The trip—2 ½ hours on unpaved roads—got much better tho, especially after a nice man gave Mel his seat. It was all worth it though, to discover Dominical.

Dominical was a surprise, small, cozy, community-oriented, a surf town without attitude, with enough cool restaurants and bars to keep you entertained but without ugly development to ruin things. Plus a stunning beach with killer surf. We instantly wanted to stay for a week.

Alas, it was not to be, as we had another date with luxury, but we had enough time there to party it up at the local disco (we do mean local), spot a crocodile for Mel in the river fronting our hotel, meet some great expats and vow to return to chill one day.

Titi Monkeys!

No matter how many times you see them, they’re still cool. No, they don’t come when called (not for lack of trying by Mel: “…mooooooonos, ven aca monos…” was her second Spanish phrase after learning how to order beer).

Of the 4 types of monkeys in Costa Rica, we’ve been able to stalk 3. Introducing:

Howler Monkeys. These are the son of a B*%#$es that wake s up every morning at 4:00am. They’re way smaller than they sound. Like humans, it’s only the males that make all the noise.

Capuchin/White-Faced Monkeys. Cute and frighteningly human-featured.

Titi Monkeys aka Squirrel Monkeys. A regular feature in this month’s blogs. If only Mel loved me as much as these little guys, we’d have been married long ago. According to Mel it is their “soft, soft paws” that make her want to “hug and pet and love them” so much.

Enjoy the pics! They are NOT easy to get (about 10 tree shots to each visible monkey shot).

Brel

1. When travelling with limited underpants, the following manoeuvres are permitted:
• Continuation – the continued wearing of a pair of semi-clean undies, after for example, a shower or swim, if the undies have been worn for less than 16 continuous hours
• Double-dipping – a last ditch option, whereby you select the least soiled pair of underwear from the laundry bag and re-wear. Cannot be combined with Continuation.
• Inside-out – much controversy surrounds this dangerous manoeuvre, whereby a worn pair of skivvies are turned inside-out and re-worn. Generally, this manoeuvre is considered covert and not publicly disclosed.
• Commando –can either be a desperation move, or one justified by chosen attire (surf shorts, bathing suits, man-pris, etc.). When skilfully applied, this manoeuvre can significantly extend the length between visits to the ‘lavanderia’.

2. The size of the crap you’re carrying expands to 120% of the space you have in your pack, requiring that you strap objects (e.g. pineapples – true story) to the outside of your bag. And no matter how much you think your boyfriend loves you, he will not, under any circumstances, carry your pack for you, nor will he put any of your shoes or makeup in his bag. No matter how much you whine.

3. Don’t flush toilet paper down the toilet. Bad things will happen. Trust us.

4. The size of a bug does not correspond in any way, to the size of the bite it will leave behind, or to the amount of itchiness it will cause.

5. You can never see too many monkeys.

6. Yes, you can be allergic to the sun. This is most unfortunate when you are 3 weeks into a 46 week sun-filled trip. Pictures of Mel’s welts to follow.

7. The best time to spot wildlife is when you are without your camera. The harder you look, the less chance you have of finding it. Thus, no pictures of Titi monkeys. Best strategy: beer in one hand, standing alone in a parking lot, without your glasses.

8. The price of any given food item bears no relation to its quality. $3 casado better than $17 casado; $1 beer better than $10 cocktail.

9. Budgets are easy to meet when they are moving targets that contract or expand depending on how badly you need that massage or $4 diet coke from the mini bar.

10. Spending 24 hours a day together, every day, can be a challenge. But for formerly very social people, we’ve made a fairly smooth transition to being a Party of 2.

Downside to dating a former tour guide: enormous amounts of random, mostly useless knowledge. Brendan told me all about this gunera, but I ‘soft focused’ the details.

Message to Brendan: stop with the tree facts – I’ve reached my limit. Monkey facts still permitted, of course…

…and then it gets really, really hard. I am taking Spanish classes this week in beautiful Manuel Antonio, while Brendan “works” (more on that later). It’s funny how challenging it has suddenly become to count past 10, recite the alphabet or tell time. Not really sure how practical my new vocabulary is – but Rosa-Maria, if you want to discuss fruits, activities, food and occupations when I’m back in Toronto, then I’m your girl.

My classes are in open-air cabinas, great for learning, except, of course, when a troop of Titi monkeys decides to take over the area. Titi monkeys, a.k.a. squirrel monkeys, are pretty much the cutest things on earth. They stand 8-12 inches tall and travel in groups of up to 40. Titi monkeys are endangered, so having the chance to see them is pretty spectacular.  To those of you who were worried this trip might make me want to quit my job, I’d be lying if I said part of me doesn’t want to give it all up to save the Titi monkeys. Or at least get a chance to hug them.

Brendan and I are also taking private merengue and salsa classes. It’s all very Dancing with the Stars – daily, intense instruction, with tons of practice in the evenings. We’re probably more Jerry Springer or Cliff Claven then we are Emmitt Smith or that hot Apollo dude, but we will have some new moves to show off at Mel and Chris’ wedding.

And now, a word about Brendan and his ‘work’ – see illustration of him hard at work in his office, below. I’m pleased to report that he’s completed reading his self-help book, The 4-Hour Workweek (that’s a real book by the way, by Tim Ferris). By carefully applying the methods described in the book, Brendan has successfully increased his work hours, by up to 100%. He’s almost reached the critical goal of 4 hours per week.

Hasta luego….

We’re joined this week by SPF 85 guest, Sean “el blanco” Evans, as we take on the surfer paradise of Mal Pais and the hippie-lands of Montezuma.

By surfer-paradise, we mean, it must be paradise if you’re a surfer. Or a single woman who likes to see scantily-clad men with big muscles and tans, wandering around with their shorts below their butt cracks. Yes, Leith and Kim, we’re talking about you.

From the attention these hot surfer dudes we’re getting, it seemed that a 2-hour lesson would be more than enough for Sean and Brendan to transform into bronzed gods of the sea.

Not so. Actually, it was kind of embarrassing. Let’s just say, it’s a good thing they provided a long-sleeved shirt to prevent Sean from blinding beach-goers with his “el blanco” chest. Brendan, while perhaps looking more the part, failed to convince anyone that he was actually able to catch a wave – despite this being his third attempt.

Our week of eating and drinking was punctuated with short bursts of activity – mainly hiking (a.k.a. rock climbing) to the Montezuma waterfall and taking on the trails at Cabo Blanco, Costa Rica’s first nature preserve. [Note from Mel: when the guidebook describes something as ‘fairly strenuous’, they really mean 4 hours of sheer torture, mostly uphill, with no food or water] [Note from Brendan: that’s called hiking]. In the end, we were able to swim with pelicans, which made it all worthwhile.

Readers please take note: if you are planning on becoming a guest star in the Brel Chronicles, you’re more than welcome, but please, please, don’t just bring Canadian currency – especially to towns that don’t have banks, ATM’s, or restaurants that take credit cards. Sean – have you received the bill for our financing fees yet?

We thought the butterfly garden might be another meet-up spot for our new-found birding friends. Imagine our surprise when I ended up holding a live tarantula (caught in the garden earlier this week). I also had a chance to bond with a female praying mantis, a long-time favourite insect of mine, due to its adept relationship management techniques (a.k.a. biting off the heads of lovers). Brendan also had a chance to rekindle long-lost friendships -did you know there are more than 30 species of cockroaches?

Oh yes, and of course, there were butterflies. Very pretty. Apparently poisonous to eat. And bloody hard to photograph.

Today we woke up in a cloud – and could literally see about 10 feet in front of us. So much for the view…Typical tourists, we instinctively planned on paying $$ for the heavily promoted Cloud Forest™, but soon realized the real thing was at our doorstop. We donned our rubber boots (see photo below) and hailed our machete-wielding trail blazer/maintenance guy, and set out for a day hike – mostly uphill [Would you like some cheese with that whine? –B].

Picture it: a flock of Tilley-wearing, grey-haired, book-carrying birders, clinging to their binoculars in search of the resplendent Quetzal (that’s a bird). In the middle of this flock, two 30-somethings dazed from a lunch of beer and pizza, desperately trying to make conversation. [Truth be told, we’ve both become obsessed with crossing off birds in our own ‘Birds of Costa Rica’ book, and Brendan has spouted bird factoids ad nauseum. Particularly impressive is his ability to weave random bird knowledge into seemingly innocuous conversation, as if it were somehow relevant to our discussion about, for example, exchange rates. For the record though, I am kind of proud of our blue-crowned motmot sighting and all of my motmot knowledge…the motmot, otherwise known as a clock-bird…well-known for its colourful mating rituals, etc. –M ]

We´re also seeing lots of monkeys– white faced capuchin and howler monkeys (pictured below). Not sure when the thrill of seeing random monkeys on the streets will wear off, but we’ll keep you posted.

Next up…the Monteverde Cloud Forest. Rather than stomach the pot-hole riddled 5-hour drive from La Fortuna, we opted to travel via horseback, again through the Desafio Adventure Co. Nixon, our guide, an authentic vaquero (cowboy) led us along Lake Arenal, through some of the most beautiful hills and valleys in Costa Rica. And for the first time since our trip began – sunshine! The ride was incredible – and so is the pain, now that our bodies have had time to launch a protest.

We are staying in a cloud forest (literally), at an extremely remote rustic lodge, complete with wood-burning stove in our room (www.miradorlodge.com) . As we are the only guests here, the 55 hectares of private reserve are exclusively ours to enjoy. The staff to guest ratio certainly explained the prices in the “dining room” (think ketchup Bolognese sauce). The view of Arenal Volcano, across the lake, is second- to-none. Luxury, this is not – an authentic cloudforest experience – absolutely.

We are currently on our honeymoon.

Ok, so there wasn’t a wedding, and no, Mel still doesn’t have a ring, but we are living every couple’s dream honeymoon. We’re currently staying at Latitude 10 (www.latitude10.com), a luxury resort in Santa Teresa, on Costa Rica’s undeveloped Nicoya Peninsula.

Actually, this is more like an anti-resort. First off, we’re the only guests. We have a private French chef and staff of 12. Our master suite, 20 metres from the ocean, has no walls or windows – our giant shower is outdoors – and we pee with the monkeys (on Kohler fixtures, of course). Did we mention that a certain celebrity (think Lethal Weapon and The Passion of the Christ) stays here regularly? In our monster-sized bed?

If you’re still reading this, and haven’t yet removed our blog from your Favourites, we should probably also mention that Brendan is being paid to be here – and Mel is here to provide her expert opinion on the infinity pool and tropical sangria. And so, we’ve celebrated the marriage that has yet to happen, and lived the life Mel reads about on www.perezhilton.com.

Travel: 2, Vacation: 0.

Update: the article has now been published! Read the full magazine piece here.

B:
After all the plush and cush of the first few days, it seemed time for a little adventure, Costa Rica-style. First up: canyoneering! Canyoneering is a combination of scrambling down a steep river canyon, often neck-deep in water, and rappelling down waterfalls up to 200 feet high. Mel and I suited up, strapping on our harnesses and clipping into our…Mel? Mel?

Strangely, Mel wasn’t insane enough to follow me on this one, and instead opted for some shopping in La Fortuna, possibly the world’s worst collection of animal wind chimes, brutal bikinis and general handcrafted sh*t.

M:
The afternoon brought our first true adventure together: rafting the Rio Balsa class III rapids, with Desafio Adventures (www.desafio.com). As our guide took us through the safety instructions of what to do if/when our raft flipped over or one of us fell out, I repeated the following mantra: “Brendan, I hate you right now. I don’t know what I ever saw in you. I will make you pay for making me do this.” [This was distinctly in Mel’s outside voice. – B]

The rapids were fierce, the water was cold, and the paddling furious at times. And no, neither one of us fell out. In the end, we both loved rafting the Rio Balsa, and are anxious to tackle even more challenging rivers as we make our way across Costa Rica.

You’ll note in the pic below, that Sporty Mel is not one of my sexiest looks. Apologies in advance. And for all of you who told me I would bail on wearing makeup, you were right – but I did hold out for 5 days.

One of the first conversations we had the day Brendan and I met, was the whole travel vs. vacation debate. His point, of course, was that I had not truly travelled, but merely vacationed. His criteria for what constituted ‘travel’ were unambiguous: he talked of $2/day hotels; spontaneous experiences; immersing yourself in local culture and random local food.

And so I embarked on this 10-month journey to prove that I too, am able to ‘travel’.

I awake this morning, on day 4 of our adventure, recalling my new ‘travel’ experiences. Our hotel: a luxury 5 star resort set at the base of the third-most active volcano in the world. The price? Less than his hotels in Thailand, at $0 per night. Spontaneous experiences…well let’s see…in the midst of touring the spa facilities, Brendan made the very spur-of-the-moment decision that I should participate in the Tabacon mud massage, provided in an private outdoor setting next to the famous hot springs, while he would take part in the spa-version of the traditional sweat lodge. Spontaneous experiences…check. Next criterion: immersing ourselves in local culture…we’ll be seeing much of the countryside over the next few days as we partake in rafting, canyoning and horseback riding adventures. Random local food? Well we did have a 6-course gourmet meal with the General Manager of the hotel, complete with samplings of his private liquor collection– does that count?

So Brendan…if this is ‘travel’, you’re right. I haven’t experienced it before. But count me in. Travel: 1, Vacation: 0.

For those curious what the magazine article that came out of all this luxury looked like, you can read it here.

Remember the Brangelina days? Well the tabloids started that right about the time we met, 4 years ago. As luck would have it, we were quickly christened BREL: BRendan + mEL, get it? Of course it was one of those nicknames that stuck — and soon became the title of our travel blog (The BREL Chronicles), the name of our real estate business (Team BREL), the way our friends referred to us (“Can’t wait to go to the hot tub party at the BREL grotto tonight!”), our wedding theme (A BREL Wedding) and sadly, one night after a few pints, we even named our puppy…wait for it…Brella.

And so in true BREL form, our Ultimate Job blog will be a combined effort — taking full advantage of our different upbringings and experiences, our divergent opinions and preferences, and of course, the basic fact that men are from Mars, and women are from Venus.

They have His ‘n Hers towels. His ‘n Hers bathrobes. And now it’s time for the BREL His ‘n Hers Blog. Enjoy.