City life by night

To get over my bitterness, and since I really didn´t feel like being inside the house after all that had happened, I grabbed my bank card, took more money from the machine, then headed to an internet cafe to vent for a while. Once I got over that, I started walking along the main street south of the parque central, and that´s where I ran into some of my teachers on a patio, along with some of the students from the school too. They invited me to join them, and I was more than happy to comply, and I proceeded to vent about my family. I found out by talking to others that not everyone was thrilled with their family, though none had had an exeprience quite like mine. Even Heather was debating moving out of the house and into a hostel while she continued her studies.

It was great to hang out with the teachers, too, both mine as well as others from the school. It was like a free lesson, which went both ways: I was picking up spanish and they were practicing their english. Not only that, but I learned a lot of things that cannot be found in the dictionary, nor things that we could talk about in class. It was a lot more of a life lesson than the textbook, that´s for sure. Spent some time talking to Heather and another girl from Canada, and we were also joined by Jason (from Calgary) and Matt (Orlando), both students at One on One Tutoring. Though I was most impressed with a Swiss-Italian guy, who has been traveling for almost two years, and had only returned home for two weeks at Christmas. We talked about all different parts of the world, and when he overheard me saying that I want to get my diving certification in Bocas, he told me about how he became a diving instructor in Thailand. From diving the conversation turned to Sharkwater, which then led to Baraka. I was impressed that Erick, one of my instructors, not only had seen the movie, but that it was his favourite. After a few shots of Mumbacho, he started re-enacting the scene with the chanting of the tribe members in the jungle... very funny!

As the evening went on, and the drinks kept on pouring, the speaking became more slurred, to the point where I could no longer understand their spanish (plus the speed of the conversation picked up too much for me to keep up). The stories started being repeated, and one by one, people started leaving. The funniest departure was that of Erick and Moses (another teacher at the school, though not mine), who obviously had too much Mombacho and were leaning on each other causing them both to walk in a zigzag. I wisely decided to stay away from that poison after my first and only encounter with it a few days before. To my surprise, I stayed until past 11, and Michael and I were the last ones to leave the party; after all the next morning would be another day of classes, and while I felt a little bit guilty, I was wondering how Erick would make it for 9 am!

The Vilchez family

When I was researching spanish schools in Granada and came across One on One Tutoring, I was intrigued about the possibility of staying with a local family in order to fully immerse myself in the culture. Perhaps my expectations were a little bit too high, but from speaking to other students, I definitely got the short end of the stick. Allow me to explain...my first impression of the family was very positive. Aside from the house, which I described earlier, I met Julio, the youngest son and he introduced me to three of his friends as well. That was also my first encounter with Mombacho (yes I figured out the name of the drink) that led to that crazy night from which I still have blanks to this day. Especially considering my lack of soberness and the fact that I obviously needed help finding my house by the end of the night, I was very positively impressed with the fact that I still had 100 cordobas in my pocket by the end of the night, or more likely by the following morning.

By the second day however, the realisation that things were not how I imagined them started to kick in. For one thing, the only person who was around during the day was the maid, as both the father and the daughter were off to work, from early in the morning until 8 or 9 pm, so my actual interaction with the family itself was very limited to none. The food was alright, nothing to rave about but then again I wasn´t expecting a menu or a three course meal. Cannot complain about that except that when the maid wasn´t around, like on the weekends, then there was no food at all, and that was part of the whole deal of living with the family. Aside from that, laundry was supposed to be included in the stay, but I was told the first or second night that I would have to pay for it if that is what I wanted.

None of this would have bothered me if it wasn´t for what happened on friday during the day... The day before I took out $200 for the course and the stay and about another $100 in cordobas for spending money; in the morning, I went into my bag, took out the money for the course (if I didn´t pay on friday then the teachers would not be paid for the lessons), leaving behind about $1500 cordobas (about $70) and $40 usd, which I locked up in my bag, locked the room and went to school. To my surprise, by the time I returned after classes, went to grab a few cordobas for a drink, and guess what?? there was nothing there! I was furious at first, though I eventually got over it, since I have been traveling now for over a month, staying in hostels and dorms, and yet nothing happened until I went to a ´friendly and safe´ family home. First I suspected the maid, since she knew my schedule, but then I realised that Julio was at home that afternoon, too. And I don´t think that the maid would have risked her job for a few bucks, even if that is probably two weeks´ worth of wages, whereas the son had nothing to lose. I did speak to the sister, who assured me that there is only one set of keys, but I do not believe that since my first night there, someone locked the door from the outside and I still had the keys in my pocket. It is not the end of the world, but it taught me that I should not let my guard down at any time, and even though I did everything that I could, locking my bag, locking my room, these things can still happen. I told her that I would be speaking to Roger, the school owner, as well, and she apologized (though it was not her), so I left to go out on the town, to try to forget this bad experience.

Sneaky people

From my first day in Granada, I quickly learned that people would regard me as a gringo full of money, and that they would try anything in order to make even a buck or two off of me. Once I got off the Tica Bus upon my arrival, since it was late at night, I decided to take a cab to the hostel I had booked for the first night. Though the ride was only about 4 or 5 blocks, the driver charged me $18 cordobas (which I later discovered was almost double the average fare). Not having any of the local currency on me, I asked how much that would be in dollars, to which he promptly replied that it was two dollars. Only when I got to the hostel did I learn the conversion rate was $18 cordobas for one dollar. And this is one of the many examples that I have encountered throughout the last week.

One day I was sitting by the central park, when this guy approached me to ask for the time (I did learn that this is a standard routine to find out if I am a local or a gringo, once I open my mouth). Promptly, he engaged me in a conversation about how great the city is, how he wants to become a tour guide once he finishes school and he just kept talking on and on. At first I was enjoying the conversation, until it slowly turned into a sob story, telling me in ellaborate details about his father passing away, how his mother moved to CR with his step father, taking his two sisters with her and leaving him in the care of an aunt here. Wont bore you with all the details, but of course it all ended in a plea for money. Having wisely said that I didnt have any money on me, he offered to walk with me back to my house! Yeah, right! By the time I put an end to the conversation, at least three or four other people gathered around and whether in english or in spanish also started to ask for money. Since my spidey sense was tingling, I walked away from it all.

One more story before I get to the big one, just last night I wanted to go to the Pali store to grab some beers and some snacks, but by the time I went by the house to get money, the store had closed since it was a sunday night. While walking there, again the trick with asking for the time happened, followed by yet another friendly conversation about where I am from, how beautiful Nicaragua is etc. My friend (and I would put that in quotation marks, but I dont have any on this computer) was the one who told me the store had already closed, but he offered to take me to another one nearby, even ordered what I wanted to get. And that is where the niceness ended, since as soon as we walked out of the store, he started to ask me for money, I guess for his services as my assistant for the past 5 minutes. I mean if he really went out of his way to do something it would be one thing, but I could have easily found the store on my own, and I do have the ability of putting together basic sentences. Again I did not get a good vibe, and esentially started walking away, when the smile was wiped off his face and he warmly wished me goodbye by saying Go to hell, motherf#%&er, and even threw a rock after me. Oh how easily peoples true colours can be discovered!

And this still does not compare with my family experience in Granada, but I will have to leave that for the next entry...

One on One Tutoring Granada

So for the next few days I have settled into quite the routine...I get up early in the morning, have some breakfast, then make the ten minute walk to school, where I spend two hours speaking spanish non stop and having the teachers, especially Alejo checking my homework and grilling me on verbs and vocabulary. I think they really take the homework more seriously than I do, since the second day I had only memorized the first page of three of the adverbs, and he wasn´t too happy with me. Once I am done school for the morning, around eleven, I normally head over to the internet cafe for anywhere from half an hour to an hour, then I head back to my house. As soon as I get back home the maid prepares lunch, and keeps on encouraging me to eat before the almuerzo gets cold. Most of the time I end up eating and studying at the same time, or preparing my tema for the afternoon session. Then I make the second walk to school in the afternoon for about 10 minutes to get to One on One Tutoring school, where I struggle through my conversation class, though Michael is very patient and makes me say the same sentence ten times over before pointing out the correct pronounciation, and Juan is very detailed on the grammar aspect. By the time 4 o´clock rolls around, I feel completely exhausted, there were actually a few times when I fell asleep at lunch for about 45 minutes to an hour, waking up just in time to return to school.

My first day at the school, I noticed a student next to my desk who looked very familiar, though I couldn´t figure out where I knew her from. We also saw eachother later on in the day in the central park, and we exchanged glances but that was about it. The following day, in between our two classes, I had decided to ask her where I knew her from, and I did that just at the same time that she asked me the same question, so we both said ¨You look familiar, but I cannot figure out from where¨! After laughing about it, we proceeded to start naming places that we had visited in the last month... Eventually we agreed on Manuel Antonio, which was almost 30 days before, so I re-met Heather. Through her I met a Canadian girl as well, though the name escapes me, but I will fill you in as soon as I figure things out. Also I discovered that both of them volunteered at a school neaby, one which I was thinking of going to as well.

However, as I have learned by now, plans change all the time... I was initially going to stay in Granada for at least two weeks, taking courses and doing some volunteering at a local school. Yet certain things occurred that made me change my mind, condense my course in just a few days, so that I could leave Granada within a week.

First day of school / Lunar Eclipse

So I woke up the following morning first and foremost thinking... where am I? As I slowly realized that I was in my temporary family's home, I started to try to piece together the events of the night before. The scabs on my elbow and my foot definitely helped me remember some of those events, and later I discovered a bruise on my back, too. All these pointed to the obvious conclusion... never again, though I believe I have said that before. Fighting my hangover, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, hoping that it would wake me up a bit in order to be ready for my first day of classes. I don't even remember what I had for breakfast, though I know I didn't have coffee despite my obvious need for it. Running out of time, I grabbed my dictionary and headed off to school. Not a very good way to start of the studies, but the teachers sure went out of their way to make me feel better about it.

So here is how my school day is shaped up, every morning I have two classes, 9-11. First off are the exercises, with Erick, really funny guy who loves Jimmy Hendricks and Nirvana (he was even singing Nirvana songs), whose first exercise was to get me to conjugate the verb to drink, especially in the past tense, as he said it would come in handy...lol! The second hour I have Alejo, who is my vocabulary teacher, a very patient guy who makes me repeat everything until I get the pronunciation just right. The takes his time and even learned to pronounce my name appropriately so he can address me correctly. Once my morning session is complete, I normally head over to the internet cafe for a while, then return home for lunch. Lunch is normally a working lunch, since I have to prepare for the afternoon session while eating.

In the afternoon, I return to the school at 2 for another two hours. First off is Michael, another funny guy and the closest one to my age, being only a year younger. Again, all the conversation takes place in spanish and he pretends he doesn't understand me until I use the right tense and the right words. We started off the conversation with him telling me that he recognized me from the night before, and he accurately described where I was sitting on the patio, with whom, and even what clothes I was wearing. I didn't need all those details since I would believe him anyway, given the gaps in my memory from the night before. The funniest moment came when he noticed the scab on my elbow, as he laughed and showed me his as well - it was almost a rite of passage. Most of our conversations revolve around women, and how many countries he has 'traveled' to though he never left Nicaragua (use your imagination) - he has a funny way of describing the east and the west coast of Canada. Lastly from 3 to 4 is my grammar hour with Juan, who while he knows his stuff, seems a bit preoccupied with picking up english expressions which cannot be found in the dictionary.

Needless to say, by the end of the first day I felt so exhausted, as it does take a lot of effort to speak only in a foreign language that I barely know. I went back home, had dinner, and tried to focus on doing my homework for the next day, though more often than not I found myself dosing off. I couldn't fall asleep though, as I wanted to make sure that I caught the lunar eclipse that evening. The eclipse was scheduled for 9 pm local time, and while I tried to locate the moon as soon as it got dark, the sky was fully covered in dark clouds. Here I was thinking there was no way that I would get to see it, and about half an hour later the sky just opened up. It was pouring so hard that I had to retreat to the covered portion of the back yard, and resented myself to watching TV. About an hour later, just as I had given up on the eclipse, the rain stopped and within 15 minutes the sky cleared up, and I could see the moon already obscured by the earth about a quarter of the way in. So I grabbed a chair and moved myself to the back yard, where I spent the next two hours watching the spectacle above. Once the moon was completely covered, the more time passed by, the darker and redder it became. I sat there completely mesmerized, wondering how many people around the world were marveling at the same sight, and at the same time how many other people went about their regular business without even looking up at the sky. I felt as if I was so close with friends and family who were doing the same thing at the same time in different parts of the world. A shared experience though we were in some cases thousands of kilometers apart.

Party in Granada

I woke up the following morning determined to get as much as I can out of the free internet at the La Libertad Hostel before having to check out. I took a quick walk around the neighbourhood, though unknown to me, I was still fairly far away from the city centre. Luckily, the dillema of the extra money for the room was solved, as they did honour the price I was quoted online, so I didn't have to leave there with a bad taste. Since I didn't have a map or a guidebook to help me out (Nicaragua was not part of the original plan), I took a quick look at a map posted at the hostel to get an idea where the One-on-one tutoring school was, and grabbed my bags and I was on my way. Lately the places I had visited have been very small by comparison, some only two or three streets, so I underestimated Granada. That and the fact that it is not by the ocean made my walk an especially sticky one in the hot afternoon sun. Not only that, but I was one street off, so I ended up walking all the way to Lago Nicaragua before I realized my mistake. After taking a break by the shore, I walked back up on the next street and eventually found my destination.

Here I asked for Roger, the owner of the school and the one who I had been communicating with by email. After a few questions, he was pretty impressed with my ability to understand the language so he recommended that all my classes would be conversational, meaning that all the instructors would be speaking in only spanish. I was at first flattered by his suggestion, though later on I would learn how much more difficult this would be for me. So the plan was set that I would take 4 hours a day for five days a week, and also staying with a local family, the cost for this being roughly half of that of the schools in Costa Rica. I decided to do this for two weeks, maybe more, depending on the experience I would receive. After finalizing the schedule and the teachers, the decision was made that I would take two hours in the morning, 9-11, first with exercises and then vocabulary, and two more hours in the afternoon, 2-4, for conversation and grammar. Then one of the assistants from the school, Moses (lol I met a lot of Moses in Granada), walked with me for the three blocks to where my home would be for the duration of my course.

As I got to the house, I was very pleasantly surprised, since like so many houses in Granada this one was the typical colonial style that the city is so famous for. Once passed the gate and through a large receiving area/living room, the place opens into a huge interior courtyard, partly covered and partly opened. Then through another set of doors, there is the kitchen and dining room area, then a set of stair to a back yard, complete with a basketball hoop, and yet further away, another section of the backyard where they keep all the animals. That part reminded me of my childhood when I used to visit my family home in Limanu, in the south of the Black Sea coast in Romania. At the same time I met Juan, the yongest son of the family, whom you will hear more about later. After settling in (I cannot tell you how good it feels not to live out of a bag, at least for a while) I decided to take a walk around town to orientate myself. I quickly found out that I was only a few blocks away from the main market in Granada, which is full of life and animated pretty much all day long. The loud sales pitches from all the stalled filled the afternoon air, and there were so many people that the pedestrian traffic spilled onto the street, where they had to compete with noisy cars, bike and motorcycles and a fair amount of horse drawn carriages. I should mention that Granada is full of them, as they dub for taxis, cost about the same and they are a much better way of seeing the city. In the market they sell everything from socks and underware to clothing, music, DVDs and even tires... it feels like an open air Walmart without the questionable employment practices, and even lower prices. (I cannot believe that I had just made that comparison!)

Once I had enough of the traffic and congestion, I walked back to the house, where after talking to Juan I learned that the housekeeper was off that day, returning the day after. Not a big deal, but I soon realised that it was to everyone's advantage, for you see she also keeps an eye not only on the house, but on Juan as well. As the saying goes, when the cat's not home.... Juan had invited three of his friends over, and at first when they saw me coming in, they tried to cover up whatever activity they were involved in. Soon after however, Juan approached me at asked whether I mind if they drink, and if I do drink myself - not wanting to be a bad guest (lol) I told them they had nothing to worry about so they invited me to join them. Now from this point on the story does miss a few details that I will try to fill in as I recall more... They were doing shots of some sort of liquor (name to follow) and using either limes or these little green sour fruits (name to follow) that grew in a tree in the back yard. As it started to get dark, we ventured into the yard where we collected more of these fruits right off the branches. We kept on talking and drinking and having a great time, even eating fried plantains with cheese (soo good), right up until, just like in Cinderella, the clock struck 7 and we had to dissapear before his sister and his father returned home from work. So we packed up, clean up the back yard and went out into town. So much for the rule of not going out after dark in a new city, but I felt safe being surrounded by locals who knew their way around.

And this is the part of the story where things start to get more than a bit hazy... one minute I was sitting on the sidewalk, talking to one of the girls while others were playing basketball...blank...then I was sitting at a bar by the lake (I distinctly remember hearing the waves - one rare memory)...blank...then I remember noticing that one of my friends was sleeping on a ledge by the boardwalk by the lake, and I was trying to wake him up so we can return to the city...blank... remember the difficult and no-so-straight walk back through a set of gates (of what, I don't know)...blank...we grabbed a taxi (more like we shared a taxi - a common occurance around here) and headed back to the city...blank...then we were sitting at a beer garden in the middle of one of the main streets in Granada, just behind the cathedral... blank... sitting in the central park, apparently having a conversation with some of the locals - given my level of soberness I am certain the conversation must have been in slurred english...blank... that is all that I could recall from that night, and trust me I have spent the last two days trying to piece together even these details...more on the recovery on the next update.

Road to Nicaragua

Funny enough, when I had been planning my trip I had only considered going to Costa Rica, maybe with a side trip to Panama, yet here I was this morning getting ready to go to Nicaragua. I had wisely decided to take the Tica Bus, for a more comfortable experience, as well as to ensure that there will be a bus waiting for me at the border crossing (with public buses, if you miss it, you miss it, and then you are stuck taking a cab that would charge an exhorbitant fee after hours). The Tica bus is a little bit like taking a plane, since you have to showup at the terminal an hour in advance, for passport verification and luggage check in. My two choices to get to Granada were 6am or 1230 pm, but the early bus seemed a bit too much, since I would have had to leave Alajuela at 4am, and I didn't even know if the buses ran that early. So I made the decision to take the afternoon bus, though that would get me to Granada way after it got dark.

Once I got to the terminal, after checking in, I almost got on the bus to Panama, until someone came around to check the tickets again - how funny would that have been, me going into one direction and my luggage in another. I got on the right bus, and I was pleasantly surprized that no one had the seat next to me, giving me a bit more leg room to stretch. Tica buses are a luxury compared to most of my other transportation modes, not only do they have more comfortable seats and AC, but they also played movies throughout the ride. As soon as we passed Alajuela heading north, we got stuck in a traffic jam, and after about 30 minutes barely going a few kilometers an hour, we were diverted of the PanAmerican highway as a serious accident had completely blocked that route. We had to divert through Puntarenas, taking the same steep winding road that I have become accustomed to, and at times the bus seemed to have quite a bit of trouble navigating through the tight turns, forcing other trucks and buses to back up to make room for it. Passing by Puntarenas, we headed north only to run into another traffic jam because of another accident (traffic fatalities are the leading cause of death in Costa Rica). So we were a good few hours behind schedule, and at times I wondered if we would make it to the border in time before it closed, later I learned that they keep it open until the Tica bus passes (yet another advantage).

It got dark by the time we reached Penas Blancas, the small village that lines up the road to the border crossing. We all had to get off the bus, and form a line up to receive our exit stamps. If travelling by public bus, you would then have to walk for one kilometer with all your luggage across the dead zone before reaching Nicaragua, but we were spared that effort. I had read many horror stories about people waiting for hours on end at the border, but since it was late in the day, there were relatively few people there. On the Nicaraguan side, after paying for the crossing fee and the tourist card, had to get off the bus again, grab out luggage and form another line. I had heard about the discrimination between tourists and locals making the border crossing, and I got to see it for myself as well. As you got to the immigration officer, you were supposed to push a button that would either give you the green light to get back on the bus, or the red light to go in to have your luggage checked. While all the locals and a few tourists with huge backpacks had to go through that exercise, the customs agent took one look at my small backpack and waved for me to get back on the bus, without even having to try my luck with the button.

I didn't see much of Nicaragua on the way up to Granada, since it was already dark by this point. Sooner than I had thought, the lights came on and the driver announced that we were already there. Not having much of an idea of where I was or where I needed to go (don't have a map or a guidebook for Nicaragua) I hopped in a cab, which drove me to the hostel at about three times the regular cab fare, as I had later learned. Even once at the hostel, they ended up charging a few bucks more than the price I had reserved online, but I decided it wasn't worth the argument, simply being happy with having a place to stay for the night. Hospedaje La Libertad is housed in a colonial building, with a huge interior courtyard, high ceilings and very airy. The cleanliness factor could use a bit of work, but I would only be here for one night before heading off to the school in the morning and then meeting the family I will be staying with. So far, my first impression of the city of Granada had been a very positive one, and I hope the next morning that will not change, once I get a chance to see the city during the daytime as well.

Volcan Irazu

Since I had one more day in the central valley before going to Nicaragua and I didn't really want to spend it in the city, I looked into going to Volcan Irazu. It is fairly difficult to make it there unless you have your own car, but there is a bus leaving San Jose only on saturdays and sundays. So I left Alajuela at around 7am, to make sure that I would not miss the connection. By the time I got to the bus stop (I would use the word terminal, but that wouldn't describe it accurately, since it was simply a bus stop right across the national theatre), there was already a line up formed, so I joined it. Once on the bus, I got a chance to see the other side of San Jose, as we were heading south east. The drive took a good two hours, and I was constantly watching the skies, knowing that by 10am there often are a lot of clouds hovering around and above the volcano, hoping that my luck would hold up. Along the way we passed through Cartago, the capital of the province with the same name - an interesting thing about this city is an old church that was destroyed during a strong earthquake in 1910. Only the walls remained standing, and they have build a park around them, quite a sight.

By 10am we made it to the park entrance, and after paying the $10 entrance fee (standard across all national parks), we were driven up to the main crater, well actually there are two of them. One is a dry crater, while the other one has a greenish lake within it, both more than a 1km in diameter. The clouds were coming in and out, and one minute it would be nice and sunny, the next the clouds would be so thick I could barely see the people walking in front of me. Overall, the vegetation is fairly poor, and at times it reminded me of the place where they faked the moon landing. After walking all around the craters, I took another path that led to the volcano's summit. While it wasn't that long of a walk, the steep hill and the thiness of the air would leave you breathless after just a few minutes. Irazu is the highest volcano in Costa Rica, at 3400 meters, and the second highest mountain next to Chirirpo. It is possible to see both the east and the west coasts from here, but that only happens on a clear day, and apparently there aren't that many of them at such a high altitude. I sat at the summit for a while, taking in the views below and watching the clouds chase one another. Before I knew it, it was time to go back down to the parking lot, as the bus would leave right on time, and that would be my one and only ride back into San Jose.
Back in the capital, I stopped for a slice of pizza and sat for a while in the main square, with the national theatre in the background. Luckily, I made it back to Alajuela right before some really dark clouds opened up to a torrential rain. This was the first time that I have seen real rain (not just a quick shower) since I have been in Costa Rica, so it was an interesting event, especially for the dry season. I spent the rest of the evening packing for my trip to Nicaragua, looking forward to being in a different country by the same time the next day.

Back to the central valley

Montezuma is the kind of place that draws you in and it's really difficult to leave it behind. I can see how people who come here for just a few days end up spending weeks on end, it seems life slows down and you tend to forget about the world at large. However, if not for any other reasons, the financial aspect made it necessary for me to pick up and go again. In a way I am glad that it happened that way, since there are many other places that I would like to explore, though I would like to return to Montezuma, possibly as my last stop before leaving Costa Rica.

In the morning, I was joined by Tim and we both watched the sunrise, which was as rewarding as many of the other times I have seen it since I had been there - that made it 7 for 7, and I am proud of that record. Afterwards, I had to pack my bag and headed for the bus stop. All three of us would be taking the same bus to San Jose, and it turned out that Erin joined us there too. After the rough ride coming into Montezuma, I wisely decided to invest the extra dollar or so and travel back in style - air conditioned bus, and even music videos along the way to keep us company. The other big advantage was that we didn't need to change or wait for buses, as we took the same one all the way back to the central valley. On the ferry ride from Paquera to Puntarenas, the seagulls followed us yet again, and the views of the golf of Nicoya were absolutely breathtaking. As the ferry was preparing to dock, we watched the huge line up of cars waiting to board it for the trip to the peninsula, since it was a friday and both Montezuma and St. Terreza are really popular destinations with the ticos as well, not just gringos. Probably due to waking up early every morning, I promptly fell asleep once in Puntarenas, and I woke up just in time as the bus was pulling into the Juan Santamaria airport. I had asked the driver to make a stop there, as the airport is 2km from Alajuela, and it didn't make any sense for me to go all the way into San Jose just so that I would take the return trip on a public bus. It wasn't a matter of money, since the fare was the same, but simply time, and the luxury of avoiding the capital all together.

I got back to the hostel 5ta Avenida, only to discover that the place was absolutely full, which I guess is partly my fault since I had forgotten to email ahead of time to make a reservation. So yet again, I started on the hunt for a place to sleep, at least comforted by the fact it was still daylight and I wouldn't have to scramble or take the first place that had a vacancy. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I came across Hotel Paradise Alajuela (a bit of a contrast, since I would hardly describe Alajuela as paradise, especially after all the beautiful places I have seen), still a nice hotel, very clean and with wireless internet access. My logic was that the few dollars more that I would spend per night would be more than made up with the amount of internet time that I had, since I had gotten used to spending $2 an hour for a really slow connection in Montezuma (I should add that it took 10-15 minutes just to log in and log out!).

I figured I would spend a few days in Alajuela before heading towards Nicaragua, so I planned to take a trip to Heredia, another provincial capital, the next day. However as I have already learned, plans don't always happen the way they were originally mean to. In the morning, I called Tica bus, since I had to make a reservation for the bus to Granada, and I was promptly told that I needed to go to San Jose to purchase my ticket, so despite my reluctance, I got on a bus and travelled back to the capital. At least the mission was successful, got my ticket and my seat reserved, and got to see a bit more of San Jose, which slightly changed my opinion of it for the better, since I discovered a few parks and not just dirty, congested streets. Nonetheless, I didn't spend more than a few hours there and then returned to Alajuela.

Cabo Blanco

Though initially Carmen and I planned on going to Cabo Blanco national park, right on the tip of the peninsula, she changed her plans and left in the morning to Monteverde, together with Carolyn as well. After the usual sunrise watching (which was even better this morning as there were a few more clouds in the sky, so the colours were even more rewarding), we met at the bus stop to say our goodbyes. Of course, never say never, so we may run into eachother again, as it had already happened once. My bus to Cabo Blanco was waiting for the one from Cobano to make the connection, so we all left at the same time, though in different directions. The trip to the national park passes through Cabuya, a small little village with quite the claim to fame - its cemetery is located on an island right off the coast, and it can only be accessed by foot at low tide. Once I got to Cabo Blanco, the park rangers gave us an overview of the trails, and warned us that it takes about 2.5 hrs to reach the beach at the end, in order to allow for enough time to make the trip bus as to not miss our bus connection. I guess they made the assumption that I was there with another girl from the bus, and we joked around that I would be more than happy if she really wanted to pay for the park entrance for me too!

The walk through the park was really interesting and challenging as well. First I walked through a secondary forest, in the process of renewing itself, and one of the first stops was what I called the 'bat cave', though it was actually a hallow tree where the bats spent their day sleeping, not even the flash from the cameras bothered them. I think the walk was made even more challenging by the fact I was wearing flip flops, since my destination was the beach. Towards the end of the hike, you could see the change from secondary to primary forest, with many more mature trees, and the sounds of the monkeys in the background. Also along the way I had lost a pack of smokes, which normally wouldn't be such a big deal, but I had my key to the backpack lock in it - I tried looking for it, but no luck, though I did have a backup in a hiding spot, my saving grace.

Finally made it to the beach, which was rewarding in itself after the long hike, and I was looking forward to a dip in the water. To my dissapointment, however, I discovered that there were so many rock s in the water that it was a less than pleasant experience. The beach itself was made up of white sand, but that's not where the name of the park comes from, right at the tip of the peninsula there is a huge rocky island, which is also white, though for different reasons. It is full of birds (most which were brown boobies and pelicans), and the rocks became white over time because of all their droppings. I found a shady spot and wrote for a bit more, only to be interrupted by a group of monkeys, which didn't seem shy at all. I guess they are used to all the tourists, since within a few minutes they were all around us, and even tried to steal a tshirt that was hanging off a branch - the owner got to it right in time, avoiding a tug-of-war, though that would have been quite the show. I was glad that I got a few good, close up shots of the monkeys before looking at the time on the camera and realizing that if I didn't get moving right away I would miss the only bus leaving from the park. Especially since the park rangers told us the day before the bus got full and left a good half hour early - though luck for those left behind, they had to walk to Cabuya and wait another two hours there - not an experience that I wanted to duplicate.

I started making my way back on the steep trail, and passed a number of people still heading in the opposite direction, and wondered whether they knew about the bus schedule, but I guess they came there with their own cars. As I was walking back I ran into Jeremy, originally from France but now living in Ireland, who I had met the night before. Poor guy didn't bring a water bottle with him and was absolutely parched, so I shared some of my lukewarm water with him, and we kept eachother company on the walk back, every now and then cursing the flip flops that caused more damage than good. He told me a lot of good things about Bocas del Toro, his trip to Panama City and then to Penonome, a city that I also visited when I was in Panama a few years back. He talked so much about the scuba diving in Bocas, and how affordable it is to get your certification, that I pretty much became convinced I will do that as well when I am down there. Luckily there was a spring with potable water by the park entrance, so we refilled the bottle while waiting for the bus. Back into Montezuma, did a bit of bugeting to make sure that I will have enough for the return trip to San Jose the next day, and decided that the most I could afford is a casado at a cheap soda.

As it got dark, I ran into Jeremy again (he was staying at the same hotel as well) and met Tim from Belgium, so the three of us headed for dinner and then grabbed a few beers and sat on the beach, listening to the waves and chatting the night away. At one point a local from Cabuya (cannot remember his name) joined in our conversation. You could tell right away that he wasn't all that sober, since he overemphasized certain things (such as numbers, both saying them slowly and showing us the corresponding number of fingers) while using certain verbs and tenses that left us completely in the dark. He told us about his life as a gardiner and fisherman, and his views about Costa Rica, and the relationship between gringos and ticos. It was a very interesting conversation, but one that left me feeling very tired as I was trying to pick up on everything he was saying and again, a bit frustrated with the fact that I couldn't contribute as much as I would have wanted to. I know that will improve once I take a spanish course, which will be soon.

Cobano

Since I was staying right on the beach, all I had to do is stick my head out my door and I could have seen the sunrise from the hallway, but I made the effort of all five steps to make it by the ocean. Pension Arenas had a different vibe than El Toucan, with the grouchy lady, I heard some tourists complain about the homeless people who slept in the hammocks or right on the beach, but I found them to be absolutely harmless. I also realized that they spent part of their morning picking up all the empty beer cans, which they would trade for a few dollars, so it was a better way of earning money than begging for it. I was first in line right when the super opened at 7am, grabbed my orange juice, then met up with Carmen and sat waiting for the bus to take us into Cobano. Money did become an issue for both of us, as I think I already mentioned that Montezuma does not have a bank machine. And so we took the half hour, bumpy ride into the town where there is one of only two banks in the southern Nicoya peninsula. Once we got to Banco National, I was in for another shock - though the sign clearly stated they accepted the PLUS cards, surprise surprise, my card didn't work. Now I did plan for this before I left Canada, and came prepared with two bank cards (one for each system) as well as credit cards, but that's where the planning stopped. Since I was only planning on going to Arenal, La Fortuna and Monteverde, I had only brought with me the one card. So here I was, down to my last $10, which would have covered my ride back to San Jose, and I wasn't ready to leave just yet. Luckily Carmen came to the rescue and lent me some money so I could get by for a few more days... One guy who we met on the bus, Bryan (a DJ from San Francisco) accurately described her, she was our saving angel, much better than saying she was our ATM.

With a sigh of relief, we sat down for a coffee waiting for the bus back to Montezuma. Back there, after paying for my room, I spent the day writing and listening to the music blasting from the beach bar. I did some writing in the journal, which was a bit of a novelty since I found that I barely have the time for it. The same as the day before, I promptly fell asleep in a hammock for a few hours, so I guess I picked up the siesta habbit as well. For dinner, our group decided to go to Pizzeria Romana, since Erin had recommended it so much. It really felt more like an authentic atmosphere than some of the other places we went for dinner previously. Our waitress was dancing around the tables as she was bringing the pizzas, but we also got to take in a show of street performers, complete with fire jugglers and live music as well. Bryan handed out CDs of his work like candy, and he even gave one to the owner, who proceeded to blast it from the boom box and she kept on dancing to it, it looked like she was truly enjoying it.

To show the community spirit, I watched as she walked over to one of the homeless people and gave him a few slices of pizza, for which he was very grateful. It was a very lovely gesture, and I am sure that process repeats itself quite often. After dinner we returned to Chicos (the closest thing to a club), met even more people, I think our group grew to about 12 or so. It is getting to the point where faces, names and countries blend in together, so it is impossible to name everyone. As we couldn't have much in terms of a conversation due to the loud music, we decided to head to the main beach, in search of a bond fire. Again, the planning aspect was a bit lacking, and we realized once we got there that we didn't even bring a flashlight, so the process of starting a fire proved to be impossible. So we sat on the beach for a while, and we all broke off into smaller groups. I spent a lot of time talking to Carolyn, who has been travelling for about 4 months now, and she shared a lof of travel adventures from Peru and Galapagos islands, as well as her story of having her camera stolen in Columbia. She brought back my desire to travel to Peru and see Macchu Picchu, so maybe that will happen once I get into Panama, but that won't be for a while yet.

Moving to Pension Arenas

As all good things must come to an end, our group of four disbanded this morning. Sam headed towards Nicaragua, while Rusco and Iwona went back to the central valley to meet their Costa Rican friend, before leaving the country as well. After they got on the bus, I went to the beach for the usual sunrise and afterwards had some breakfast. Then I realized my current dilemma; the grouchy lady wanted to charge me for the whole room, thus paying double what I had been for the last few days. Having said no thanks, I packed my bag and started performing the usual routing of knocking on doors of hotels to find out about availability and cost – one of the first things I learned in Spanish is how to ask for those, since the process had already repeated itself a number of times. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I came across Pension Arenas, one of the three hotels right by the beach where the marina was. For the same price I had been paying before, I got a room to myself (though again, not much more than four walls, a bed and a table, but it had a prime beachfront location for the $10 a night. Thankful that I didn’t have to make the trek back to San Jose that day (I wasn’t ready to leave) I grabbed my towel and headed for the main beach, though not before stopping at the super and caving in, I bought a bottle of sunscreen – I think I mentioned before that I left that important accessory with the rest of my luggage since I intended on going into the mountains, not by the ocean.

I sat for a good few hours, swimming every now and then, but mainly on the beach, listening to music, writing post cards and more importantly writing in the journal. I had realized that since I have been always busy hanging out with people, I have had little time for the journal, so it was great to be able to catch up on there as well. During one of my moments of reflection, I had come to a puzzling conclusion – I was running out of cash, since I had only taken with me a small amount. Montezuma does not have a bank machine, let alone a bank branch, so I would have to take a trip to Cobano, the closest town, since by this point I had already gone through even my emergency reserve. After Carmen returned from her trip to Isla Tortuga, we made a plan to go into town the following day, as she was also facing a similar dilemma.

I guess after a while the sun does get to you; I went back to my room to shower and change, but instead I promptly fell asleep for a good two hours in the afternoon, something that rarely happens back home. I woke up just in time to go into the village to meet everyone for dinner. Aside from Carmen, met up with Gabriela (originally from Switzerland, but now living in Guatemala) and Carolyn (from Toronto), and a few other friends, and had dinner right on the beach, at the same Moctezuma restaurant. I guess their speed of service has something to do with your dinner company. Since I was the only guy at the table, we received very prompt service, in contrast to some of my previous experiences. Had a great time, laughing and sharing travel stories (by far the number one topic of conversation amongst backpackers). After dinner we went to Chicos for a drink, but there wasn’t much of a crowd since it was still early in the week.

Further up the Montezuma river

The morning routine repeats itself, though every morning is a different cast of characters; this time only Rusco and I managed to get up on time, and did the usual: watching the sunrise, taking pictures, watching the fishermen at work. Rusco even attempted to catch some pretty big fish with his bare hands, but ended up with just a cut on his hand to show for it. As we walked further on the beach, we saw a huge fish (I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a fishing story since it beached itself) on the shore. We picked it up, took turns taking pictures with it, and then were faced with a dilemma… what to do with it? We didn’t really have access to a kitchen, so Rusco decided in the end to hand it over to one of the fishermen, though later we came across the smoldering remains of the bonfire from the night before, so we could’ve had fresh fish for breakfast...oh well! After that I laid on the sand, and before I knew it, I was drifting in and out of sleep. Just then I hear a voice ‘Hello Sleeping Beauty’, and there was Carmen; she obviously took up my suggestion to make the effort to see the sunrise, but I was too drowsy to even carry on a conversation. After she left, I promptly fell asleep for about two hours, waking up only when the sun really started to burn.

Rusco, Iwona and Sam were trying to figure out if they would stay another night or leave the same day, since they had so many other places to cross off their lists before the end of their respective trips. But the Montezuma temptation proved to be too much, so they decided to stay another night. We spent the first part of the day chilling at the beach, swimming and overall having a great time – we shared so many jokes and laughs, and we even had an impromptu semantics lesson. One of our most repeated jokes had to do with the meaning of ‘fanny pack’ in different countries of the world (I won’t go into details, but use your imagination), and Rusco had us all in stitches when he told us that traffic lights are called ‘robots’ in South Africa; we were picturing a tourist asking for directions, then getting to the next intersection looking for the robot where to turn left or right. It probably isn’t as funny now, I guess it’s one of those things that you just had to be there for.

In the afternoon, I joined Carmen on another hike to the falls; she had not been there yet, and I wanted to climb the path that takes you on the top of the hill and onto yet another set of waterfalls. After hearing all the stories from a few days before, we wisely left our cameras behind, and did the hike to the first waterfall (the most famous one). We swam in the pond, and even got to go behind the falls – picture a high intensity shower with cold (we called it refreshing) water that almost felt like those whirpool jets on our shoulders. Carmen did not enjoy that much all the little fish that were nibbling at our toes, but we laughed that at least they weren’t piranhas. After the swim, we decided to take the challenge of going further up the path. From here on, the trail became really steep, and we took off our flip flops since they would do more damage than good. At times the slope was so steep that you would have to hold on to a rope not to lose your balance. But it was all worth it: once we got to the top of the falls, we were rewarded with breathtaking (and not just because of the climb) views of the ocean in the background, with trees on either side, and with the sound of the water rushing out below us. We sat there for a while, having a great conversation reflecting about life, and opening up about some of the ‘demons’ in our past and how we dealt or are dealing with them. I felt so comfortable talking to her, and vice versa, it was almost like a therapy session, but in the middle of nature, not between four cold walls, and with the sun above, not neon lights. After a while we relocated to one of the pools of water up the river, and we continued talking, comparing notes on everything from books and movies that we would recommend to one another, and even discovering that both of us had had an interest in the vipasana retreats, and again, both of us back out for various reasons. It was really interesting to confide in someone who has had so many similar experiences. We talked about the energy received from nature, trees and the sun, as well as the energy that people share when they interact with one another – a page taken from the Celestine Prophecies. I know I learned a lot from Carmen, and I hope she got a thing or two from me as well. We were so involved in our conversation that we had completely lost track of time. By the time we realized that, it was already getting dark, so we made our way as quick as possible down the path to the main road. The last few minutes of the hike we were walking blind, but we didn’t have any accidents and made it back into the village safely. As Sam, Iwona and Rusco already had had dinner, the two of us headed to Soda Naranja for dinner, after which we were both exhausted from the hike and called it an early evening.

Isla Tortuga

This time all four of us made it to watch the sunrise, and we went by the main beach. After the sun came up, and the obligatory photos, we took an early swim in the ocean, grabbed some breakfast and then got ready for the trip. The tour agency told us to be ready by 9:20, so we assumed that we would leave about ten minutes later. But since the boat we would use also took some people early morning fishing, they were late coming back, delaying us by about half an hour. Not to worry, said the tour agent, you’ll get plenty more time on the island to make up for it – lol and we believed him. We were in a small motor boat, holding ten people plus the two guides. It takes about an hour to get to Isla Tortuga, and on the way there we were pretty close to the shore, giving us a chance to see how many beaches were strung along the coast. The last one had a waterfall that jumped through the cliff and right into the ocean. At one point, we saw something jump in the water, and the boat came to a stop – and there was a group of dolphins playing hide and seek with us. We did a few ‘figure eights’ so that we can observe them closer for about 5 or 10 minutes, after which we continued on to the island. Apparently it is also possible to see whales there too, but this was obviously not the season for them.

By the time we got to Isla Tortuga, not only were we the last boat there, but since the tide was low, we got stuck on some rocks between the two islands. Since the water was so shallow, I wondered if it wouldn’t be better if we all got out from the boat and walked part way there. We passed through, and after dropping off one of the guides on the beach to prepare lunch, the other one took us back out into the little gulf between the two islands, dropped the anchor and gave us the snorkeling equipment. We were there for almost an hour, but there wasn’t much socializing since snorkeling tends to be an individual activity, therefore we all had different experiences. I happened to follow another group of people, whose guide was actually in the water with them, pointing out different things. I got to see a few star fish, some as big as my head; others saw a small squid, and someone even claimed to have seen a turtle (hence the name of the island). I was thrilled that I got to see one of those ‘fish superhighways’, with thousands and thousands of fish swimming in a tunnel like formation (brought back images from ‘Finding Nemo’). All the swimming got our hunger going, and we headed back to the boat which would take us on the island.

The beach there is amongst the most beautiful I have ever seen, the true definition of a white sand beach. The only drawback was that it was full of people, but what can you do about that? As we set camp by some picnic tables, we saw a wild pig sleeping in the shade of a tent. We wondered why it wasn’t spooked by all the people there, but it seemed it couldn’t care less, so we took turns petting it and rubbing it’s belly – it behaviour reminded me of a cat, as he was stretching and obviously enjoying the attention. It wasn’t until one of our guide came over with an almost empty can of beer, and fed it to the pig, we couldn’t believe our eyes, the pig was chugging it like a college frat guy. Rusco took an excellent picture of that, and when he shares it with me I will add it on so you can see it with your own eyes. For lunch the two choices were chicken or fish, complete with beers and soft drinks. We got to meet the rest of our group, there were us four and six girls who were studying Spanish in San Jose, one of which was Hali from Texas, with whom we hung out later on in the day.

After lunch the guide told us that we would have a 40 minute siesta and then we would head back to do more snorkeling. We used that time to walk around the beach, and right in front of the souvenir shop we found the resident parrot, who also didn’t mind the attention. He posed for pictures, ruffled his feathers and even try to pick at a few people with its beak. Very entertaining! We went for a swim, though more like sitting in the warm, crystal clear water, and we lost track of time completely, until the guide came in and told us that in about half hour we would be heading back to Montezuma. It seems that half of our group wasn’t keen on going back snorkeling, but the four of us and Hali protested since the program called for a morning and an afternoon snorkel. Hey, if some people want to pay money to sit on a beach when they could’ve done it for free in Montezuma, that’s their choice, but it shouldn’t be imposed onto others. Reluctantly, after rolling his eyes, the guide went back to the boat, and took us out to a different rock in the ocean. This time the water was less clear, as the tide was coming in, but we still managed to see a lot of fish – I hope Rusco and Iwona, who had an underwater camera, will get the pictures developed… it is hard to write about all the different types of fish that we had seen, after all a picture is worth a thousand words.

Once we were finished, we went back to the beach to pick up the other five people, and then headed back to Montezuma, a bumpy ride that gave us all sore behinds by the time we got off the boat. As soon as we returned, we dropped off our cameras at the cabinas, and I suggested that we go back to the beach for one last swim before the sun went down. The waves were fairly big, and it seemed we were the only ones crazy enough to be in the water at that point, but we had a great time, even got to bodysurf on a few of them; of course more often than not the waves would toss us around, like laundry in a dryer, and once I ended up scraping by back on the sand and the rocks, not a good thing when the skin is already sensitive due to so much sun exposure.

We got out of the water and we were waiting to dry off, when suddenly I felt as if someone was watching me. I turned around and did a double take – this girl was staring at me with the same look that I probably had on my face too. I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was Carmen, who I befriended in Manuel Antonio almost two weeks prior. I guess it goes to show Costa Rica is a small country; furthermore, one of her friends, Carolyn, had met Sam on the tour of the Arenal lava – a true example of the six degrees of separation. For dinner we aimed at going back to Moctezuma, but we quickly got tired of waiting as it took them 20 minutes just to give us menus, and we realized we would starve before the food got there. Instead, we walked away and went to El Sano Banano (the healthy banana), a really cool, though pricey restaurant serving mainly organic food. They are also the only place in the village showing movies every night, free with dinner or for a few bucks otherwise. The show that night was Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights, and we wisely decided against wasting two hours of our lives. Instead, after dinner we met up with Hali again, and we went down the beach to a reggae bonfire; as opposed to the music that they usually played during the day (Bob Marley’s Legend on repeat) they played some really cool music, something fresh for my ears.

Montezuma

Once I got to Montezuma, I quickly fell into a routine that is very easy to adjust. In the time that I was there I didn’t miss a single sunrise, and every day the choice was which beach to go to, or whether to go hiking on the trails. I kept on calling Montezuma a city or a town, but in reality it is nothing more than a village, with two main streets, all lined up with restaurants, bars, hotels and cabinas. The place is so small that you couldn’t help running into the same people a number of times per day, so it was easy to get to know lots of people.

The first morning, Sam, Rusco and I went to the marina to watch the sunrise, and afterwards we started walking along the beach. Until that point the term ‘tide pool exploration’ was somewhat foreign to me, as I could not really understand what there really is to explore. But as the tide receded , there were so many pools of water left behind in the rocks, each with its own shape and size, and each holding various numbers of fish. At first, when we saw all the fish washed up on shore, we started grabbing them and throwing them in the ocean. Somewhat of a pointless exercise, since there were hundreds of them, and even the ones we ‘saved’ would just end up beached by the next wave. Then we saw the locals filling plastic bags with all the sardines, and we realized that it was a way for them to make a living. Those with a bit more skill were line fishing, and they managed to get a few big ones. It was quite a site to watch them run up and down the beach to find the perfect spot to fish. With every wave going back into the ocean, you could see all the fish fighting to go along with it.

We spent the morning by the main beach, swimming and sitting in the sun. Once the sun became too strong, we returned to El Tucan, grabbed our cameras and decided to hike to the waterfall. We had not only read about it in our Lonely Planet guidebooks, but in Monteverde we watched a video on youtube of someone diving from the top of the falls. We walked down the road which leads to Cabuya and Cabo Blanco national park, and after crossing the Montezuma river, we took the marked path through the forest. The hike was a bit challenging, if not for any other reason than the fact we were wearing flip flops and had to walk across sharp rocks. After about 25 minutes we got to the falls, and because it was the weekend, there were more people there than normal, including a fair number of ticos – that would be our saving grace, but more about that later. The water was a lot colder than the ocean, and there were a lot of fish swimming in the pond at the edge of the falls, prompting a conversation whether they got there by going over – that would be quite the ride! The cliff was very steep, and the rocks were all wet, so climbing the waterfall for the dive was out of the question. As we prepared to return to the village, a group of three suspicious looking ticos approached us about taking the trip to Isla Tortuga. Luckily we had already booked it through an agency that morning, let alone the fact that chances were that if we gave them money we would never see them again. The following day we found out that at least 8 people got robbed on the way to or from the falls, all in separate incidents. We realized how lucky we were, and also that there is power in numbers – though as Sam said, no tico would want to mess with him, so we considered him our personal security service!

It got dark by the time we returned from the falls, and we went for dinner at the Moctezuma restaurant, right on the beach, on the second level. The food was alright, and the price reasonable, but the wait time was something else. I think they were doing that on purpose, to get people to buy more drinks while they are waiting. After dinner, as we walked up and down the street, the village was full of people and excitement, and the Chicos bar blasted music until way past 11pm (the guidebook said that it was town policy not to have loud music after 11, but I think that rule was forgotten about, especially on a weekend). We spent some time people watching, and then we walked down to the beach, sat on some rocks and stared at the stars. I must have seen at least three shooting stars in less than 15 minutes. Eventually we decided to retire, with the anticipation of the snorkeling trip the next day

Road to Montezuma

Getting slowly used to the 5:30am wake up calls, and up in the mountains the sun rises later than the 6am by the ocean; so by the time we arrived at the bus stop (not a big challenge, it involved crossing the street) it was still dark. We already knew that the trip to Montezuma would have to broken down into three portions: a bus trip to Puntarenas, a ferry across the Gulf of Nicoya to Paquera, and then another bus from there to Montezuma. As we left Monteverde, the surrounding mountains made for some spectacular views, in direct contrast to the quality of the roads; I can now see why you cannot access Monteverde unless you have a 4X4 in the rainy season. The road is narrow, dusty and full of hairpin turns, and the whole trip of under 100 kilometers took about 3 hours overall, also considering it was a collectivo bus, stopping to pick up or drop off ticos along the way. As we left Monteverde, I looked back to the see the cloud forest doing what it does best, being covered in clouds. During our descent from the mountains, the vegetation changes drastically and becomes more tropical the lower the altitude. By the time we reached the main (paved!) highway, we were so sore we just couldn't wait to get off the bus.

As we entered Puntarenas, I was reminded of the scene in Sharkwater when they are travelling along the same main road. At the time, I thought that it looked like a great place where I might even settle for a while, and from Google Earth, Puntarenas is a peninsula that seemed to have nice water on each side, beautiful beaches to the south and lots of boats and vegetation to the north. Imagine my dissapointment when we entered the city and found it to be less than appealing, with polluted beaches, dirty streets and some smells that I would not be able to accurately describe here. We got off at the main market (which only added to the smell) and then we realised that we had to walk all the way to the other side of the peninsula, and make it there in about 45 minutes, as the ferry was scheduled to leave by 10am. One the way there, though we knew the general direction was alright, Rusco decides to ask two old ladies on the street about the ferry. We laughed so hard when he called them 'senioritas' (we could see he was turning up the charm), and they laughed in return when he asked for Paquero, not Paquera. Either way, they directed us to the main street crossing Puntarenas, which would lead us to the ferry to take us across the gulf.
By the time we got to the docks, we were all sticky from our walk with all our gear on our back, and we were looking forward to enjoying the breeze on the boat. After trying one ticket office, and then the next, we got our tickets (crossing costs about $1) and got on the ferry with only minutes before the departure time. At least this connection had been made on time; once on the ferry, we managed the find some seats, and as the boat left the harbour, we were rewarded with a beautiful view of the peninsula. Puntarenas definitely looks better from farther away! As the ferry made its way across the Gulf of Nicoya, we had a group of seagulls following us almost religiously. At first I didn´t really understand why, but soon I learned that tourists were feeding them, despite all the signs advising against it, just so they can take some close up photos. We passed through a set of small islands, and about an hour later we could see the port of Paquera. By port I really mean the ferry dock, a soda, giftshop and a few finishing boats; the town of Paquera is a few kilometers away inland.

Despite all the warnings in all the guidebooks, and the fact that it was friday afternoon, we were amongst the last to get off the boat, and by the time we got to the bus stop, it was packed beyond belief. We sat around discussing whether to hop on the crowded bus and stand for the next two hours, but before we could reach a decision, it was made for us, as the bus simply took off. We accepted the fact that we would spend the next two hours by the dock, with the comfort of knowing that at least we would have a seat on the next one. We had a bite to eat in the soda, actually one of the cheapest ones I have come across yet, and talked to a few other people who shared our fate, mainly surfers who were heading to St. Terreza. We did get our seats on the next bus, though it was packed as well, and we spent two more hours in a hot and sticky bus for the roughly 60 km journey to Montezuma. At least all the way to Cobano (the closest town to the village of Montezuma) the road was paved and the ride fairly smooth. Once we left the town and the paved road behind, we were treated to the last 30 minutes of our journey in the style of a rollercoaster. As the bus hit certain potholes, we were literally flying out of our seats - now I understand why the ceiling of the bus was padded. I found it quite hilarious, so I was laughing out loud as we got bounced around. Finally, the scenery opened in front of us and we could see the ocean, though far down below. Through the final set of twists and turns, we made it into Montezuma, relieved that our long journey came to an end.


We got off the bus, grabbed our guidebooks, and started to debate which direction to go in; we had already reviewed some of the hostels in the area, and one of the first places we came across was Cabinas El Toucan, which Lonely Planet describes as having the grouchy lady as the owner. As soon as we walked in, we recognized her as if we had seen her before; we shared a quite laugh over that, but she showed us to two rooms on the upper level, complete with a balcony facing one of the two streets in town, great for people watching, and all at an affordible price. So we settled in, changed into bathing suits, and ran for the beach to catch the last hour or so of sunshine. At the time, we thought that it was the only beach there, so not knowing any better, we were actually swimming in the landing area for the fishing and tour boats. But the water was so nice and warm, refreshing after such a grueling journey.

As the sun went down, we changed and then had dinner at Moctezuma restaurant, right on the beach. After dinner we spent the rest of the evening wondering around the village, which was absolutely packed with tourists, both gringos and ticos, as it was the weekend. Aside from the Chicos Bar which was blasting music, there were many people selling jewelry, street performers juggling fire, and loads and loads of people everywhere.

Monteverde canopy zip lines

First thing in the morning, we got back into the AC van and took the same road as the day before, only this time stopping a little bit before at the Aventura Canopy Ziplines. After checking in, the first thing was of course, to sign our lives away should anything happen along the tour. I don't know why I even bothered reading it, as it only made me more nervous, and it's not like I would have asked for a refund and walk away. But yet I had a feeling that my fear of heights may play a role throughout the day. The next up was to get ourselves into the safety gear and harnesses, along with helmets and gloves; at the time we were convinced that these were simply there to make us gringo tourists look silly, but again, it's not like we had a choice in the matter. We got the obligatory introduction and safety instructions, during which we learned how to slow ourselves down by breaking with the gloves. I still didn't know what to expect once we got to the first platform, but luckily I was not the one to go first anyway. After seeing a few others being strapped in and dissapearing into the foliage, it was finally my turn; there were two attachements to the line, one with the wheels to keep me moving, the other one as a safety. So with one hand on the safety and the other on the zip line, I finally let gravity take its course.

What an exhillarating feeling, flying over and through tree branches, hearing both the line and the wind rushing past my ears... at times you couldn't even see the end platform until close to the end, at which point I made the classic mistake of breaking too fast thinking I was about to hug a tree. Not only did this result in me breaking really quickly, tensing my shoulder muscles, but also that meant that I would have to drag myself onto the next platform. After the first one or two lines, I got the principle of the system and I was having a great time. From one platform to the next, sometimes with a hanging bridge in between, it was a fantastic experience. The guides were really nice and even offered to take photos and videos of us to share our adventures with others.

At one point, the guide told us that at the end of the next platform there would be a surprise waiting for us. I watched as the guy in front arrived at the platform, was unhooked from the cable, attached to another one, and then he simply jumped off. Once I got there I realised that it was sort of a mini bungee jump, and all I had to do is take one step into the void, felt about a half second free fall, before the safety cable yanked me just short of the ground. More zip lines followed (I think about 16 in total), and the highlight had to be the tarzan swing. We had to climb a high tower, and one at a time, we would jump from the platform, again with that free falling feeling, and then swing back and forth in the forest. Some of us cleared a tree on the first swing, to give you an idea of the speed that we were travelling at. This is where the most screams, of fear, excitement, or a combination of the two, were extracted from our group. To finish on a high note, the last two lines were also the longest, and we essentially crossed a valley back and forth, with some amazing views from above.

By the end of the tour, we all loved it so much that we would have been more than happy to go back to the beginning and do it all over again. That is the most common afterthought of those taking the canopy tour: we all wished there were more zip lines! They were also building a superman zip line, where you are attached from the back and fly across the forest horizontally, hence the name, but that will not be ready until later on in the year. I would highly recommend this experience for anyone travelling to Costa Rica.

Back into Monteverde, we spent the rest of the day hanging out in the city, trying to find a bit of shade as even in the mountains the sun can really get to you. At one point we discovered a path almost hidden from the road, beside a small creek. As we sat there for a while, watching all the birds around us, we saw a few ticos making their way downhill on the path, and we realised that it was some sort of a shortcut from a street above. Since curiosity got the better of us, we just had to find out where it led, so we made our way along the steep path until we got to the street above, which also rewarded us with magnificent views of the town below. We took the long way back down the dusty road, passing by the cemetery before returning to the hotel. Sam and I went back to that path later on in the day, as the sun was setting, and we saw for the first time in Costa Rica fireflies all over the river basin.

At this point I was supposed to return to my home base in Alajuela the following morning, as my original plan was to go the mountains for a few days, but since the rest of the crew was heading to Montezuma, I decided that I would join them for a few more days at go back to the Pacific Ocean, though this time on the Nicoya peninsula. Of course, I came really prepared with shoes, but no sandals, and bug spray but no suntan lotion, afterall I was going to the mountains! Anyway, the bus left Montezuma the following morning at 6am, so after a quick bite at a local soda, we headed to bed to make sure we wouldn't miss our connections.