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.
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.
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