Costa Rica bonus entry, day 9

11/1/2009 Sunday

This morning Catherine and I walked town a bit and killed more time before our taxi took us to the airport. Molly left a few hours before us. We found a little bakery to get apple pastries and cafe con leche to wake us up. A pretty nice morning.

---

The sun is presently sinking into the Gulf of Mexico. It's really pretty... warm and inviting in Miami 30,000' below.
A plane just eclipsed the sun. I'm glad I opened the window to see it because that must be rare. Sun dogs can be seen on whispy clouds to my left. I really enjoy window seats; sunsets even moreso. Tranquility. I'm back over U.S. soil now and have very mixed emotions about that. The in-flight movie was 500 days of Summer. I had mixed emotions about that too. I'm glad it had a happy ending because the rest of it was really painful to watch. I can't say that I have a ton of experience in that regard, but it resonated strongly with me. That feeling really sucks. Really. Miserable. The sunset just peaked. Brilliant. Really inspiring actually. The clouds below are putting on the display now.

Another thing I don't have mixed emotions about is the book I finished before the movie started; Compañero about Che Guevara. I didn't really know enough about him other than watching Motorcycle Diaries and Che (the ones with Benicio Del Toro) before the book. What a tremendous read. Che is a polarizing icon, so I wanted a fairly neutral and unbiased account. Compañero served well. It pointed out faults and mistakes as well as celebrating successes. (Florida is getting wider now. Chau Gulf, hello confederacy.) I find I relate to Che strongly in many aspects and very little in others. I feel bad for him that he kinda got sucked into several things in Cuba that prevented him from truly pursuing his aspirations as he may have otherwise preferred. Regardless of your opinion, this book is a good read. I think a vast majority of people with an opinion of him are mis/under-informed. Did he carry out executions? Yes, but no more than the U.S. ever has in a day. Did he do a lot of good? Yes, but perhaps not exactly as his fans would think. I really believe those who are "pro-Che" fail to recognize his faults, and those who are against him fail to recognize his achievements. Like John Kennedy, John Lennon, MLK, etc., it would have been interesting if he were still alive. If nothing else, I can better understand his point of view now.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 8

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...

10/31/2009 Saturday

Last day of vacation. Boo. Major bummer. Need to catch up on yesterday first... Before my surf lesson at 4:00 I took my rented board and got the hang of messing around in the whitewater. Rode a few waves on my knees. Russell gave me a different board for the lesson; not made of foam, better. We spent about 15 minutes on the beach and then took to the water. The very first wave he told me to try I stood right up and rode to shore. He seemed surprised. "Most people don't do that." I was really stoked. I only rode / stood up on a couple more, but it was a ton of fun. I can easily see how people get addicted and chase waves for years. What a great sensation. (What a beautiful buzz...) It started raining really hard and got dark fast. When we had walked back to Caza Zen, the Black & White party picked up. I only had one clean black or white shirt... a long sleeve. Oh well. 4 beers and dinner were about $9. I talked to a lot of interesting people. (Earlier in the day before my lesson I talked to a couple from Columbus. We talked about the black hole that is Ohio State Buckeye football and why nobody seems to do anything but drink at social functions in Ohio.) The party went fairly late... maybe 1am. I got excited when 2 Swedish guys invited a lot of people to their room for some "Swedish water." I thought it would be a new discovery, like the aguardiente incident in Seattle. No such luck; vodka. I hate vodka.

Also, before I forget about Friday, I kept thinking English speakers I talked to were Aussies. A girl from Minnesota selling jewelry at the party sounded like that, but said it was just because she had rarely used English in the past 6 yrs. "I just decided I didn't want to live in the States anymore." Russell, my surf instructor, was from England and could pass for an Aussie too. His girlfriend definitely sounded British though. I talked to a Kiwi and recognized right away he was from New Zealand, so no error there. He re-taught me the term "seppo" for "Americans" - I had heard the term but not the origin (Yankee shortened to Yank rhymes with septic tank, shortened to seppo). He seemed surprised when I told him that if he used phrases like, "Good on you!" people from the States wouldn't understand, or that if he referred to our measurement system as the Imperial system "Americans" wouldn't know he meant weight in lbs, distance in ft/in. I honestly think most people wouldn't though. Sidenote: I find myself not liking to use the term "Americans" for people from the States, myself included. It seems wrong; arrogant. This is America too. I am not in the central USA but I am in Central America right now.

I woke up, caught the bus, the ferry, then another bus and was in Alajuela to wait to catch a taxi to the airport. Molly, Catherine and I split a room to save money and shopped a bit. I bought a hammock! Lunch at my last soda for this trip.... so filling, only 1 meal needed today, roughly translated to about $4. As the sun set we walked west to a cemetery (seemed fitting for Halloween and a nearly full moon) in town then walked back towards our hotel. It seemed like a waiting game, just killing time before we had to leave. The trip was over. We walked past the main cathedral in town... that's a nice area. After dark Molly and I walked down to Pops to get some ice cream then watched surf porn on youtube [segments of Endless Summer... I still need to rent it] on the free internet connection at the hotel. There is a very obvious police presence in Alajuela, and I did not feel in danger walking after dark.

I'm excited for the snow at home but already missing this country. I can't say for sure (obviously) yet, but I feel like this trip has yielded one of the most important weeks of my life so far. Definitely significant. Costa Rica truly is a rich country, and it gave me a lot.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 7

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...

10/30/2009 Friday
It's another overcast day on the Pacific. Fairly choppy water. The howler monkeys woke me up and it's been fairly low key since then. I walked to the bank to get dollars for my surfing lesson. I really want to buy a hammock but don't really have room for one in my equipaje. Next time I may bring an empty duffel bag or something like that, and take a shuttle if I fill it, although I find myself preferring the public transport. On my way back to the hotel I got a ride from a guy that works at Casa Zen. I asked him what he thought of all the construction. He spoke fairly fast, so I didn't understand all of his Spanish, but essentially he said it was terrible. A very lamentable situation. He said there are no rules, no permits, no concerns for the roads, schools, locals... the dollar prevails. It's unfortunate and I hope it changes.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 6

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...

10/29/2009 Thursday

It's a cloudy, misty day on the Pacific. Starting to sprinkle. Rain clouds overhead. It was quite a day getting here. I was awake, but not up at 7:05 when a knock at the door forced me out of bed.

There's a driver here for you.

Umm... already?

Yes. He will wait for 10 minutes.

I was told the night before to be ready at the door at 7:30. I went to the bathroom, threw on clothes, and checked out in record time. I had to break a Jaguar to leave a tip... only 1 more left. We picked up 2 more people before leaving the city; a Canadian girl, Lauren, that graduated a few months ago and has been traveling solo for a month, and a lady from California that retired down here 5 years ago. I chatted with Lauren a bit. It sounds like she has had quite a trip, starting in the Caribbean, into Panama, the Pacific coast, Monteverde, and eventually north to Belize in December. It seemed a long time for a B.C. girl (living in Calgary... lots of Calgary people down here) that didn't speak Spanish to be on her own. She was headed to Montezuma. Based on what she told me I need to see it. Another interesting USA/Canada discovery: she had never heard of the Grateful Dead or Phish. I was stunned. I translated for the group. Before we got to Puntarenas our driver complimented my Spanish, so apparently the words I do know sound correct. I was also taken for a Spaniard by an Austrian once I got to Casa Zen. She was surprised I spoke Spanish with her since I was from the States. Maybe my beard is hiding me well now.

The ferry from Puntarenas to Paquera was pretty. The islands and sea are tranquil. The road to Cobano is fairly straightforward but once you pass the turn to Montezuma, the pavement becomes dirt and the going is slow. I thought it was great. The distance between Mal País, Santa Teresa, et al surprised me... looks closer on the map. Casa Zen is a relaxing stop in my travels already. Very laid back. The kitchen is really good, the vibe is mellow. i.e. good food, company, waves. The beach here is both bigger and wetter than the Caribbean, with green cliffs off in the distance.

I have run out of superlatives for this country.

Once again I was speechless walking the beach. It is completely undisturbed. It's not for me to say what Costa Rica does with its land but I really hope they don't pave that road and make it easier to get here. There should not be hotels here. This is not a place for lawn chairs full of gringos working on their tans. This view belongs to those who respect it and earn it; Ticos, and to a lesser extent, surfers and vegabonds. (Right now this seems to be a secret place only surfers and Lonely Planet readers know about.) Waiting for the backhoe to make way for my mícrobus was half the fun of getting here. I walked the beach until I found the break all the surfers preferred... 3-5 ft waves. Surfing is an art form. Very pure, graceful, challenging. It's impossible to be stressed sitting in front of the ocean. I became Peter Gibbons. Strike that, I became The Lorax for this beach. I picked up trash on my way back to my room as it started to rain. Looking south, rain clouds drifted north. I got soaked, and it was really refreshing. Apparently it has rained here 8 days in a row, but is starting to dry out. I can't tell. Everything is saturated. [I just discovered Molly and Catherine from the airport on day 1 are staying here. Small world.] It seems even after just a few hours that this is the coast Jack Johnson personifies, with Bob Marley on the other coast. (I have only listened to reggae since I got to Costa Rica.... nothing else feels appropriate. Maybe Jack Johnson tonight.)

There is much more to see, but I really want to start a business down here... somewhere anyone with the smallest interest in jungle, ocean, rainforest wildlife, and/or Latin America need not look elsewhere. It seems the same for Peru, Mexico, etc. too though.

10:30pm... raining quite hard again. It doesn't seem like it below the trees at ground level, but it's chaos on the roof. I watched the Thursday night movie and ate here tonight. I haven't had too many vegetarian days this month, so at least I got another one in today. After the movie I talked to two Austrian girls, siblings, one from earlier today. The younger one said goodnight, shook my hand and kissed me on the cheek as is customary for her. I did so in response but was fairly taken off guard. Interesting mix of cultural norms on this planet. It's lights out early tonight for early morning surfing sessions. I think I'll rent a board and try it out. Last random thought: High stress and blood pressure patients should forgo treatment and spend their money wisely by spending an hour in a hammock listening to the rain here.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 5

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...

10/28/2009 Wednesday

6pm... not quite a mid-day update but still earlier than other days. I'm sitting in my room at Hotel Rosa del Paseo on the west side of San Jose. It's a very nice hotel with a courtyard, tranquility, safety (you must be let in or out by the attendant), and quiet. The quiet is nice because San Jose, in my brief experience, feels loud and congested. No more than any other international city though. I had a fairly slow morning after being woken up at 5am by Cahuita's local howler monkeys. They sound like ghosts. I went back to sleep only to be woken a few hours later by torrential downpour. It seemed a good day for travel. When I got up and headed back to Cahuita NP the sun was out. I took my camera, intent on getting capuchin monkeys on film since I didn't have my camera yesterday. I saw a few, plus a sloth, but none close enough to photo well, like yesterday. It seems I'll just have to return in order to get better photos.

I made my way to the bus station at 11 to catch the 11:30 to San Jose. I found myself recalling my first minutes at the same place yesterday... a woman with a European accent (speaking English, pretty sure it was German or Austrian) had pissed me off. I heard her speaking English so I asked her which direction the beach was. She rolled her eyes and pointed. Her body language made it seem like I had just wasted hours of her life and she wanted a refund for the huge inconvenience. As I walked out she said, "This is a business, not a tourist center." in exasperation. As if I couldn't tell by the cheap Santa Claus and ornament display you were setting up when I walked by... clearly you're trying to pawn this crap to tourists and locals... in the tropics... in October. She was in my shoes once too... in Cahuita for the first time. I've met many welcoming and nice Europeans, but the general sentiment towards Americans from Europeans is totally unwarranted. I'd like to think an American in Tokyo would have treated her better. Thankfully my mind was distracted after those few minutes by a girl that sat next to me waiting for her bus. She was Latin, with wavy locks flowing from a yellow bandanna. I didn't want to be rude, but her eyes were astonishing. She kind of reminded me of the award winning National Geographic photo of the girl from Afghanistan. I formed the sentence in Spanish in my mind, "I don't want to be rude, but I feel compelled to tell you that your eyes are the most beautiful I've ever seen," but worried I had the wrong word for "rude" and said nothing. (Clearly my anti-casanova skillz extends far beyond gringas.) There is absolutely no shortage of beautiful girls (from here or anywhere else on the planet) in this country. On the bus to San Jose it rained again. Approaching San Jose from Puerto Limon the rainforest is beautiful. Everything is lush, clouds hang in the valleys, etc. A 25 year old nurse from Calgary sat next to me and we chatted for most of the ride. She was part Czech and told me Prague was nice. I've heard as much and would like to see it one day.

11pm... Yep, today was very different than yesterday, as expected, except another great dinner. I walked 4 blocks to the highly recommended Machu Picchu. I was a bit skeptical with the erotic toy shop across the street, but don't let that dissuade you. I ordered the famed pisco sour to discover the Peruvian's secret. Holy smokes, I'm glad I got the small one. Halfway through I had a solid buzz going... maybe 3 oz. I asked my waiter to choose a dish for me between a few options and he picked ARROZ CON POLLO A LA PERUANA, which as you would expect, was baked chicken served on rice in a green sauce, with peas and sliced peppers added. The sauce was very good. He also brought out a small saucer of salsa. "Cuidate, muy muy picante." Ok, noted. I found out it was habaneros.... very good but very hot. The rice was very short grained, almost round. After that I had a cafe con leche. My first Costa Rican coffee... smooth, creamy, delicious. Before leaving I told my waiter, "With certainty, this is one of the best drinks and food (I don't know the word for meal) of my life." He was grateful. I really have been eating like royalty the last several days... the heat and humidity stifles my appetite to one meal a day. I don't think I'm losing weight though. It was obvious in the restaurant I am in a wealthy part of town. The other patrons had on nice clothes, jewelry, make-up, etc. It feels OK for me to be here since I was a bit concerned about safety in the city. My hotel room is really really nice... my first hot water shower in 6 or 7 days. My clothes are drier but still smell like Central American buses (i.e. slight mildew, a lot of sweat). My t-shirts stink. Surprisingly less English spoken here than on the coast. It was kind of nice chatting for a few hours with my Canadian bus neighbor about the differences between our countries, but I also have enjoyed being forced to use Spanish. [Note to self, Albertans have good party themes. Ex: Tight & Bright (think neon spandex), Anything But Clothes (cardboard, foil, stuffed animals sewn together, etc), etc.] My Spanish listening skills are improving. I need to expand my vocabulary, and just need to be diligent about that when I get home.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 4

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...

10/27/2009 Tuesday

Today was my earliest morning yet, but there were no problems. I got up in time to shower and get packed for a hike with Santiago. We left town promptly at 8:00. It was a completely different experience than yesterday's hike. Instead of hiking down the beach, we went into the jungle just past the Dolphin House. Santiago told me about his life, his bamboo fall/accident which gave him his limp, the history of Manzanillo, the struggle with the government and the current status of the national park/wildlife refuge, etc. In addition to all that, we saw howler monkeys, poison arrow frogs, millipedes, 2 toed sloth, tons of birds, ants, wild cacao, toucans, and scores of plans. I learned which plants he used to help his hip, which were poisonous, which you could boil to make tea and feel better, etc. Clearly Santiago's "Tylenol" came from his hometown and not a white plastic bottle. We mainly spoke English, which was fine for me. I learned which trees were too tough / hard to use for building homes (i.e. Almond) and which monkeys liked to spend the day in (i.e. Balsa), etc. We walked along private property (marked off by a vine which grows in a straight line) and I found myself hoping the people that owned it could keep it but still call it a national park... maybe a working NP of some kind. It's a tough sociological situation. Either way, it's a beautiful area so I hope it gets some kind of elevated and permanent protected status. That place has quite a story for a town that has only had electricity for 20 years. Seriously, they used candles for lights after dark, had no fans, TVs, no fridges, etc until I was in 2nd grade. Insane. A beautiful place. After the tour I checked out of Maxi's and caught the 12:45 bus after a bit of shopping.

Cahuita is not for everyone. You can get large quantities of several drugs here without really searching. Regardless of whether you like the town, you will love the national park on the edge of town. (Actually, the town used to be in the NP at Punta Cahuita, but the government pushed the town north, away from the wildlife. The houses are still there, but full of snakes instead of people now.) I checked into Cabinas Atlantic Surf and immediately my pulse slowed. Even more so than Puerto Viejo and Manzanillo, this town makes it impossible to worry or hurry. I made my way to the ATM and then the N.P. 500m from the park entrance along the beach I saw 8 White-headed Capuchin monkeys at once. They were mad at the dogs below them; breaking off branches and throwing them down with strong force. One of them hurled a huge branch, maybe 20 lbs... surprising for a small monkey weighing less. A park ranger ran to the rescue and used the same branch to chase away the dogs. I swam in the turbulent ocean after watching the monkeys a while. These waters were tough! Waves came in pairs, except when they synched up and made one big wave. I could let a big wave carry me all the way to shore. At the same time, the currents of that wave swept me out after it broke. My first real experience with riptides. I was never really worried, but definitely aware of my distance from shore. The waves were so big I could not jump and keep my head above them.... they would whitecap and break further out and be tall/strong when they reached me. A lot of fun. After swimming, they monkeys seemed calm without dogs below them. They were literally on the beach... if they fell at high tide they would get wet. Obviously a narrow stretch of sand. They were very picturesque. Quite a day for wildlife!

After drying off I had dinner with Brian, a fellow Cabinas Atlantic Surfer from Seattle. I had a pineapple smoothie drink with dinner; marlin, rice and beans, crispy plantains and salad. The marlin came in a Caribbean curry. Brilliant! I've eaten a lot of good food in my life, and this was near the top of the list. Caribbean cooking is part of the draw of this coast. Afterwards I drank and talked U.S. politics with Wyoming, Brian and Graven (a Cahuita native). I wish I had a few more days to see Cahuita NP, surf Playa Negra, etc. but the Pacific and San Jose calls me. Tomorrow will be very different than the past several days.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 3

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...

10/26/2009 Monday

I didn't realize it was Monday until I checked my phone to get the date for today's ramblings. I believe that means I'm getting the hang of the pura vida. Monday is very significant in my home life... here not so much. Aside from the bus schedule and a few restaurants, nobody seems to care what day it is. Every day is a good one. And I agree. This is off topic, but I'm starting to think of the Spanish translation for these sentences as I write. Maybe it's a game or mental test, but I think it helps me know where the gaps in my Spanish are.

This morning I woke up and took my time packing my things. I walked into town to change $30 into ~15,000 colones and stood in line at the bank for a long time, only to have their computer system shut down when I was next. After several minutes we all gave up hope. I walked to the currency exchange company and was charged a slightly higher rate (as I was told would happen) but at least had my 15k colones. I stopped by the bus station to get my ticket for the 11:45 to Manzanillo but was told I couldn't buy one until 11:30. Instead I did some window shopping. Before buying anything I stopped in the post office to see if I could mail to the US from there. The girl working spoke no English and asked me a question I didn't understand, so I gave up. I felt defeated and decided to just check out and eat my brunch (the remainder of a beef empanada from the bus station... perhaps questionable by this point, but still looking OK after 2 days in the fridge...) on the beach.

The bus ride to Manzanillo was quite an adventure... the old bus couldn't help but hit a lot of the potholes on the road. The most worrisome part, however, was crossing bridges. There are several bridges between Puerto Viejo and Manzanillo, all of which are exactly the width of said rickety bus. We slowly crossed each one, but took the last one at a slight angle. The bang/crunch we made sounded like significant damage to both the old bridge and the old fender or wheelwell on the old bus. Oh well, we crossed. I was a tad concerned we would end up in the river below us and recalled a story Whitney told me yesterday where a bus drove off a bridge near Quepos this week and a few of the folks that survived the fall still died by way of hungry Caiman. I'm happy to report there were no such deaths today, but the bus and bridge struggle seems to be ubiquitous.

Anyways, I sat next to a very nice Guatemalan girl on the bus. She had been to Asheville, NC and the Smokies and hoped to see Colorado one day even though it snowed there. She spoke good English so we had a nice conversation. Ironically I found her easier to understand than most of the Jamaican English speakers I've talked to in Manzanillo today. Despite the Rasta influence in Puerto Viejo, I didn't find it a problem until today. Manzanillo is essentially the end of the road on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica, just a few miles from Panama. It feels like just a few miles from Kingston. The bus stopped in front of Maxi's cabinas & restaurant so I walked all of 10 meters to book my night's lodging... I splurged on a room w/ A/C.

After checking in I took my backpack and headed to the guide house for the wildlife refuge. Nobody was there, but there was a sign on the door with names and phone numbers of guides.
I headed down the coast intent on finding scores of howler monkeys on my own. While I didn't quite make it to Punta Mona, I did still have the hike of a lifetime. The beaches here are incredible, as is the jungle. I walked along the water to a point where a trail meandered into the jungle / refuge. After passing the Dolphin Lodge, civilization of any kind fades away. Humanity too, for that matter. I found myself on a damp mud trail with jaw-dropping coves to my left, rainforest on my right, and a canopy above me. No need for sunglasses on the trail. I was completely alone for literally a few hours. At times I expected a jaguar to jump out and end me... I recorded the sound of the jungle on my phone. I was Robinson Crusoe. Once again, how in the world did the Spaniards leave here after landing? I'm glad they did. I half expected to be shot by poisonous frog darts and cannibalized by an indigenous tribe (they're nearby). This was the most wild, natural, untrammeled place I've ever seen. At times I caught myself audibly uttering "un. be. lievable." to nobody. Several times actually. Thousands of ants used the trail I hiked. They formed a long line and slowly carried leaves and flowers home. I made sure not to bother them fearing they might collectively turn on me. I then realized I was in sandals with no bug spray... unprepared. N0-see-ums ate my legs. Better than a snake or a spider (I saw both). I thought if something did happen to me, nobody would find me until at least tomorrow. It was starting to get dim in the forest anyways, so I headed back. I don't want to over-emphasize the fear though. The overwhelming feeling was simple disbelief at the beauty. Some of the trees where as big as the Spruce of Olympic NP... maybe saplings when Columbus landed. I truly was stunned to silence by the experience. This is the prettiest ocean setting I've ever seen... and almost nobody else is here.

After spending some time on the beach and swimming until the sun set I ate 300kg of today's lobster catch and asked Dennis (a Canadian logger ex-pat from B.C.) how many people lived here. In a mixed Canadian/Rasta accent he replied, "Oh, I don't know. Maybe 150." There can't be more than 25 tourists here. To say you can't exactly buy tourist trinkets such as a shot glass or post card in this town is an understatement. Right now I might be as off the beaten path as possible. While the kids in town started the nightly soccer game I scored a guide for tomorrow morning. I recalled seeing Santiago's name on the guide house door sign, so when he introduced himself to me, barefoot and drinking at the bar, I asked if he was the guide. Yep. "Cool, I want to go see monkeys in the morning." The price of a 4 hour guided trek went from $100 to $35 when his boss entered the picture. I don't understand his Spanish very well but will study tonight and hope it goes OK. I think he recognizes I am not just a dumb Yankee after telling him $100 was too much, and he seemed happy to help me, so I'm excited. The lobster was probably the best I'll ever have. It came with fried plantains and Caribbean spicy rice and beans. Delicious. That plate and 1 beer ran $22, so it was pricy even by U.S. standards, but those were two fresh lobster tails I'll remember, and I agree with the guidebook that Maxi's kitchen boasts some of the best cooking in the area. I also chatted with an American girl who is from D.C. but went to U. Dayton. Small world. She had long dreads and works on a sustainable farm in the woods. I think day 3 has exceeded days 1 and 2. Based on the Salsa and Cumbia coming from next door, today is far from over. What a wonderful place this southern Costa Rica Caribbean coast is.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 2

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...

10/25/2009 Sunday

In many respects this was a Sunday unlike any other in my life. I woke up well rested but extremely parched around 9am. It took me a while to mobilize, but I was eager to familiarize myself with my new surroundings. I walked into town and had to laugh. I expected to see something along the lines of at least Playa del Carmen south of Cancun after all I had read. Indeed, most of the business in town is built around tourism, but unless there are major changes (hopefully not) this area won't be a new Mayan Riviera for at least 75 years. I would guess this is what corners of Florida looked like around 1900 - minus the cars, scooters, electricity... very few businesses were open. I bought a 600ml water bottle from a stand at Playa Negra for 500 colones. After walking Playa Negra and being somewhat disappointed in the scenery (aside from the intrigue of sand that resembled crushed coal) I decided to walk to Salsa Brava and watch some surfers. No surfers. It dawned on me that most of the town was probably just going to bed, based on the scene at 9pm last night. Oh well, at least I had my bearings. I had planned on being out most of the day but instead was back to the hotel within an hour. A little confused about the lack of picturesque beaches, I re-read my guide books and finally read that the real gems of the coast were a few km south of town and got more interesting as you approach Panama. I headed back to town and rented a bike with the goal of scouting the beaches and ultimately riding home for dinner. Bikes are the standard means of transport in this town. My specific bike today was probably made before I was born... a green fixie (pedal backwards = brakes though) with mushy tires. $5 for the day. Content with looking slightly less a tourist, I road the "paved" road towards Manzanillo. Beyond the fringe of Puerto Viejo, the jungle is impressive and the Cabinas become more impressive. It seems the wealthy ex-pats live this way... I pass a sign selling 49 acres of land including beach for $150k and have to stop myself from immediately turning on my phone. After about 10 minutes I pass a wooden sign with "Cocles" carved in it. The road veered towards the beach and revealed paradise. Clean sand (there was trash on the beaches in PV, although all the recycle / trash stations with encouraging signs that clean beaches are better seemed to indicate progress on that front), waves big enough to possibly surf, clear water, tall palms for shade. This was what I had seen from the plane yesterday and longed for. I locked my bike to a tree and walked toward the water. I dropped my backpack and tested it out... the water was colder than Tulum, Mx but still quite warm. I walked back to my towel, applied excessive sunscreen and lad down to just listen to the lapping of the waves for a while. After 30 minutes I was roasting and decided it was safe to leave my things and enjoy Caribbean swimming. I took my rightful spot directly in front of my towel and began bobbing in the break. I noticed the two girls within earshot of me had American accents and spoke English. I asked if they had been to Manzanillo, hoping to find out if the beaches were in fact more impressive further south. Although they hadn't, we did end up chatting for a while. They had just moved from Jacksonville, FL after graduating from UT Knoxville, to Manuel Antonio on the Pacific coast. Very nice, welcoming, well traveled girls. At 1:30 they asked if I knew what time it was. I opened my zippered pocket to grab my watch right as a wave hit me. I immediately remembered my bike lock keys had been in that pocket, and of course no longer were. A few minutes of searching produced no results. Whitney and Rachel felt bad, so I borrowed a bike while they shared their second. I felt bad but the rental guy said it was no problem, and a few minutes later I jumped on the back of a scooter with a guy owning chain cutters.

[Sidenote: explaining "lifeguard" to a man that doesn't speak English is tough. Ex:

I lost my bike keys.

Where?

Playa Cocles, in the ocean.

Where is the bike?

On a tree near the... the man that watches those that swim.

- blank stare -

When a person looks at swimmers, when it's dangerous, from above.

Oh, near that man?

Yes, on a tree near the man.

]

Potholes require good ab strength and balance while riding a Vespa on a gravel road. Minutes later I was back at the bike shop. $4 for a new lock. Pura vida. The girls had showered and got their bags to catch the 4pm bus to San Jose, then Manuel Antonio. We ate lunch at my first soda. An enormous amount of rice and beans topped with ~10 oz. of fried chicken. Clearly lunch is the biggest meal of the day. Food for a whole day plus juice and tip for $7. Not bad. After lunch we rode to my room so they could change out of wet clothes, borrow some Aloe Vera (we all got burned), exchange emails, and invite me to Quepos for a surfing contest on Halloween. I've already paid for my hotel in Santa Teresa then but may take them up on it. I'm not sure if I could get to SJO on time for my flight, so it's not likely, but a good option anyways. I wish I were less worried about making plans in advance. I read a lot about Manuel Antonio and it sounds fun. Either way, they caught the bus and I headed south again. I rode as far as I could before needing to turn around to return my bike. I stopped at the beach near Punta Uva. There was 1 other person swimming about 1/4 mile from me, but otherwise not a soul. I have no idea how/why Christopher Columbus kept going after he landed there, but I believe it looks about the same now as it did then. Incredible. I saw my first wild monkey there too. (I have heard several howler monkeys but not seen one.) By the time I had my camera out he was two trees away. A really awesome experience. So much character/personality in his face. A that point I decided to change plans and spend tomorrow night in Manzanillo with the monkeys, sloths and macaws.

After returning the bike, I decided to have a beer and dessert (still mostly full from lunch). Rest. de Paso, right across the street from my place and on the path to the beach, was a good choice. The dulce de leche crepe was a huge success. Reggae bumping from the speakers... a good end to my day. They sold bulk mate but don't serve it. Bummer since I didn't bring any. The Che poster at the bar made me want some. I settled for reading Compañero on my hammock instead. I met my Colombian neighbor then. She has a good story; in the fair trade coffee business, travels a lot... going to Seattle in February to work and learn English, then off to England to sell fair trade coffee there too. Very cool. Based on my encounter with her and her friends, I believe Colombian women could take over the planet if they organized and chose to do so... they would be supermodels in the States. I am meeting many diverse and wonderful people so far. Feliz noches.

Pasajes de Costa Rica, viaje 1, día 1

This is part of 8 posts where I will, with minor edits and omissions, put my journal from days in Costa Rica online. There is no real grammar structure, but hopefully it makes sense...

10/24/2009 Saturday

My upcoming night's sleep feels like one of the hardest earned in my life. Here's to sleeping like a baby! I write this from a situation my dad would find a personal hell. Tonight stands alone as the most humid in my life, and the fan isn't quite keeping up to say the least. I am in room #3 at the Exotica Lodge in Puerto Viejo de Talamanca approx. 100m from the Atlantic Ocean in southern Costa Rica. I was too tired to care upon arrival, but in the morning will try to do the American thing and buy myself into a more comfortable situation. The fridge and the fan work, and the cold water is nice, so it could be far worse... camping in Moab in August, for example... Anyways, this story really begins yesterday around lunch time. I was trail running on a stunning fall day in Boulder at the base of the Flatirons. No surprise I didn't keep up with coworkers Darren and Tim, but it was really the perfect use of a lunch hour given the weather, setting, etc. I really love the fall. After trail running I finished the work day and headed to happy hour to celebrate several coworkers birthdays. A few hours later I made my way to DIA for the 1am flight to ATL. (By the way, I found it especially tough to leave Tacoma this time. I know he's fine but I feel kinda bad leaving my little buddy for so long. He's a good kid...) I didn't really sleep on the flight, and didn't really sleep on my 4 hr layover in ATL, so I was ready for sleep when I got on the plane to San Jose. That didn't really happen either. (I met a girl from Jersey who lives in Aspen that slept soundly though. I told her I was jealous when she woke up and we talked for a while. Molly... she was definitely a Molly based on previous experience... reminded me a lot of Kendra too. Sidenote: all of the girls I've ever met living in Aspen have proven especially intriguing. Rad chicas. I might have to move there.) Sleep was in short supply then too. I was excited to see the Atlantic. Flying over Florida, however, was shameful. There is no more green, no more swamp... only roads and vacation homes. It was depressing. 3 minutes after Florida disappeared, Cuba came into view. Unspoiled white sand beaches... much better! Our pilot seemed to agree. After Cuba came the dark blue ocean. So dark, it seemed fake, like a bluebird day on the slopes in April where I would almost swear the sky has switched to purple, but I digress...

I really believe it was love at first sight for Costa Rica and I. I had a window seat and finally saw land again. Unspoiled jungle led right up to the coast where white wave breaks met white sand. A muddy brown river flowed slowly into the Atlantic... maybe the Parismina. The Canal del Tortuguero was also in plain sight, but otherwise nothing but rainforest jungle blanketing gentle mountain slopes. As we neared SJO you could see crops, but it was much more pure than Florida a few hours prior.

SJO took me by surprise, as did the humidity. The airport was so small, much smaller than Cancun, for example, which supports a smaller town. I changed into a t-shirt while waiting for the checked baggage to start and regretted not also carrying on shorts. I forgot that 70*F in Boulder feels nothing like 70*F in the topics. Oh well. I took a taxi to the Caribeño bus station... the driver spoke almost no English. It was put up or shut up time for my Spanish lessons. When he dropped me off, he complimented my Spanish, so I guess I did OK. He asked me where I was going, for how long, whether I'd been to CR before... simple stuff. When we got to the bus station I thought it was a joke. No tourism here... la gente in the true colors. Complete culture shock. I questioned this whole trip; I was scared and alone. No English. Period. 4200 colones (~$8) bought me a seat for 4 hours on a bus with no AC and no bathroom. Again, still exhausted, I wanted to sleep but couldn't. As we descended from San Jose to the Atlantic I was in awe at how beautiful the country is. My eyes were huge for the first half hour. The jungle is in command, and only a tiny strip of pavement slices through it. Viva la selva. Waterfalls, mudslides, clouds like Gorillas in the Mist... very captivating. The my neighbor with the window seat woke up. This was a true answered prayer. For 3.5 hours we talked in mostly Spanish... again, almost no English. We talked about interests, music, movies, jazz, the towns we drove through... He was 23, from Nicaragua, 1/4 Italian, had an ex-girlfriend in Spain whose dad was African and mom Swiss. Trying to explain bluegrass proved unsuccessful aside from explaining the state my brother lives in has grass called bluegrass. We talked about being single, my plans in CR, religion. He is Presbyterian and in seminary helping a remote village on the Panama border. We talked about missionaries, favorite foods, etc. I was in disbelief that I could understand him and vise versa. My brain hurt but spirits very high as the sun set. Too tired to walk or think, I took a cab to my hotel. 45 seconds later I was here... unpacked a bit and then sat down on the bed. The linens are clean. I'm not sure what the pillow is made of. It will do. A spider and centipede crawl across the floor. Thinking I should put up my mosquito net, I eat an apple and fall asleep. I woke up 2 hrs later. I need more rest. It's 11:30pm. Almost 2 days with little more than a nap. Tomorrow will be low stress! Until then, insects, birds (and the occasional monkey) sing me to sleep. Pura vida.