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Costa Rica

Time to Leave

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Though I had an absolute fantastic time in Puerto Viejo and met a bunch of people whom I consider life-long friends, after about 10 months of living there, it was time to pack up and see more of the world once again.  I still to this day miss a lot of Puerto Viejo and Costa Rica in general, namely the wildlife and captivating nature that surrounds you daily there…. But, if I had stayed there I wouldn’t have had the chance to continue traveling and exploring as I originally planned to do.

Truth be told as well, just as in many places you first go to then get to know better, the rose colored glasses came off.  While there was and is a lot of beauty and great things about Costa Rica and Puerto Viejo, there are also a lot of drugs there.  They are after all in the direct line of drug trafficking, so it’s really no big surprise, but still there gets a point where enough is enough.  Looking around knowing that the majority of people were on one drug or another, just started to wear on me.  And looking at people who had lived there forever and seeing how squirrely they had turned out, just made you wonder if that was the only future to look forward to.  So for that reason and wanting to explore and travel more in general, I packed it up and headed out.

Since I’d already done Bocas del Toro, I decided to simply head back to David, then on to Panama City, then head to Portobello on the Caribbean coast of Panama to catch a sailboat through the San Blas Islands into Colombia…

So the travels continue…

On to Panama City, Panama

Back to Puerto Viejo

Costa Rica

Arriving in Puerto Viejo

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Perhaps one of my favorite moments of living in P.V. actually happened when I arrived.  I took a “tour” from Bocas del Toro, Panama to Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica for about $25, which covered all costs of transportation to get there except the $1 needed at the Panama border for the exit visa stamp.  Again, I was asked by the driver on the Costa Rica side “where in P.V. do you want to be dropped off?” and my reply again was “I don’t know, somewhere in town will do!  So he dropped me off near the soccer field in town, just a block or two inland from the main road that runs through P.V.

Now, I mentioned earlier that I happened to arrive on a Holiday weekend… What this meant was that all the locals from inland of Costa Rica had an extended weekend and were on the coast themselves… which meant that all the accommodations had been taken!  yes…

In any event, I was making my way along the soccer field when suddenly an old rasta man came riding up on his bike behind me.  And what follows was our conversation:

Rasta man: Hey Baby, how you doing today?

Me: Great, how are you?

Rasta man: Good baby, good!  You just arrive baby?

Me: Yup.  Every place seems to be full.  Do you know anywhere that may have a place to stay for the night?

Rasta man: Yea baby, there’s that Rockin’ J’s baby.

Me: Oh ok, where do I go for that place?

Rasta man: Just down that street baby, like 10 minutes baby

Me: Great, thanks for the info!

Rasta man: No problem baby, can I get you anything? Meth, smoke, coke, weed…

(and the list literally continued for  several seconds with him naming every known drug on the planet in both formal and street name version…)

Me with a slightly shocked face: No… Nope, thanks I’m good!

Rasta man: Ok baby, you have a great day now!

And away he rode… Definitely made me chuckle!!  Now I should also mention that I had heard of Rocking J’s from a fellow traveler in Bocas del Toro, so when the Rasta man mentioned it, I knew he wasn’t giving me misinformation.  So I wandered down the road until I came across Rocking J’s and rented THE LAST HAMMOCK for the night… Joy!  Normally this wouldn’t be such a big deal, however Rocking J’s sports over 350 hammocks!!!!  As well as dorms with beds and even private rooms with private beds!  Yes, the place is enormous and right on the water.  Rocking J himself is quite the character!  He’s working on building an arc and selling spaces on it for himself and whoever else wants for the coming storm…

 

On to Starry, Starry Night…

Back to Puerto Viejo

Travel

Costa Rica vs. Panama

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I thought now a good time to make my initial comparisons between Costa Rica and Panama.  I have split them up into categories with my opinions on each:

Overall Impressions:

To me, Panama has lost its wilderness and has the feeling of being back in the States.  It doesn’t feel like another country, just another State of the US.  Were it not for the indigenous people wandering around with their traditional clothing, I seriously would think I was in the US again.

Now, this is not to say that there aren’t areas of Panama that are wild or untouched and not built up and all, but just the infrastructure in general of Panama is so American that I couldn’t help but feel this way.  Roads are nicely paved, the buses are air-conditioned, their currency the Balboa is the same.  Let me explain:  I have yet to see any Balboa bills.  All the bills are US dollars.  The coins are stamped differently from our coins to say they are Balboa, but they have pennies, nickles, dimes, quarters and dollar coins that are the same size, shape, and same characteristics as our US coins.  If once wasn’t looking specifically at what was stamped on each side, they would mistake them completely for US coins.

Panama has stores, grocery stores the size of Wal-Marts back in the States.  Proper grocery stores that I had yet to see in Costa Rica.  The largest grocery store in Costa Rica was the size of a fast food place in the States.  Of course, you can find a Wal-Mart in San Jose (or rather Alajuela) as well as American fast food joints in Costa Rica as well (so sad, I know!) but I was just surprised to find such large stores so easily in Panama.  Perhaps it was just that I had been away from a city in so long that it was partially culture shock to come back to civilization as I’ve known it before, but Panama again just felt like it’s lost its wilderness and individuality as it’s very similar to the States.

Again, all the above is just my opinion.  I have met many a traveler who much prefer Panama to Costa Rica.  I am just not one of them though.

Price of Costa Rica vs. Panama:

Panama also has a reputation for being cheaper than Costa Rica.  Honestly, aside from food prices I have yet to notice this.  Food is definitely cheaper in Panama, but accommodations are priced about the same.  Costa Rica food prices are cheaper on the Pacific (Manuel Antonio and South as I have not been to the Northern Pacific coast as I hear it’s very touristy, so food prices there may also be expensive) than they are on the Caribbean as well.

Drivers and horns:

Both countries have without a doubt some of the craziest drivers!!  I would personally NEVER get behind the wheel of a car in either country, just because I lack the aggression needed to bully your way around the roads as drivers here do.  I will say however that I feel much safer in Costa Rica when walking along roads than I do in Panama.  I have never felt unsafe crossing roads in CR because I had full confidence that the drivers would actually slow down.  In Panama, not so much… Honestly I can’t say exactly why that is, but I just don’t.  I have found myself searching out old people and children in Panama to cross roads with them instead of on my own because I’m convinced they may not slow down for me, but for sure will for the elderly and youth.  People in CR use roads as their personal walkways.  And perhaps this is what makes the difference.  It is quite common for people to literally be walking down the middle of the road as if they own it and people in cars simply weave around them without a fuss.

The use of horns is quite different too.  Costa Ricans have somehow figured out how to rig their car alarms so they can play certain parts of the alarm while driving.  This action has resulted in a car alarm that when started sounds like a wolf whistle… So if they are trying to get the attention of a lady on the street, they simply play their car alarm bits to sound like wolf whistles.  They also use horns to warn other drivers of their approach around blind curves.  In other words, they use horns for specific purposes that are easy to recognize and always about communicating in some way, and that communication is easy to determine what is meant by the horn.  Panama on the other hand… Well, certainly there are horn uses that it’s easy to tell what they are communicating, such as bus drivers saying hi to another bus driver going the opposite direction.  But at least in the case of walking around and being in David, I can’t tell what is being communicated by horns.  They literally are being used every 5 seconds!  The sound of horns and honks is the most prevalent sound!  They seem to use it just for sport, lol!!

Mannerisms of speech:

Costa Ricans say “Buenas” in greeting, Panamanians say “Hola”.  Both countries say “Ciao” when leaving instead of “Adios” as we are taught in Spanish classes.

Speaking of spanish… I feel as if the Spanish I’ve acquired in Costa Rica isn’t the same spanish I should be using in Panama.  Just goes to show you how different even the speech mannerisms and words are from one Spanish-speaking country to the next!

On to David

Back to Panama

Back to Costa Rica

Travel

On the road again…

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Early the next morning we all headed out for the early boat back to Golfito.  From there we said our goodbyes and all headed in separate directions.  Since I was planning to travel to the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica, I thought it better to loop my way through Panama rather than to take the gruesome 8 hour or more bus ride back to San Jose, only to catch another 5 hour one to get to the Caribbean side.  So as the other guys all headed North, I made my way South to Paso Canoas: the Pacific border crossing into Panama.

Upon arriving at Paso Canoas, I will be the first to admit that I had no clue what to do or where to go!  There were no signs and absolutely no indication of where you were to go if you wanted to get into Panama.  Perhaps what was most shocking to me was that there was no gate or fenced area… Ok, perhaps I have just been too accustomed to the look of border crossings from my travels to Mexico to the States where there are huge signs and officers everywhere and lines of buses and people all waiting to get through.  This border crossing looked nothing like that.  In fact I kept thinking that you really had to want to do the right thing in order to get into Panama.  Otherwise, truth be told, had I known which bus I needed in Panama to get to David, Panama I could have simply walked across the invisible and non-guarded border and hoped on a bus.  But I digress…

I wandered around in the direction of Panama and finally came across some police officers and asked them what it was I was supposed to do.  They directed me to the immigration office on the Costa Rica side (no signs again) so I could get my exit stamp.  After several wrong stops to different offices, I finally found the correct one and stood in line to exit Costa Rica.  Of course as things would happen, the power went out so all the computers were down.  So I had no choice but to sit around and wait for things to come back online.  About a half hour later, people’s names were being called out one-by-one as the passports were being returned and I made my way to the Panama immigration office to get an entrance stamp.

Upon arriving there, I admit I was quite tired and honestly not firing on all cylinders.  And my tired frame of mind ended up costing me $20.00… You see, I had completely neglected to even think about how I would probably need proof that I was leaving Panama before entering it, just as I needed proof when entering Costa Rica that I would be leaving the country (though they never asked me for it).  So when the immigration officer asked if I had a bus ticket (he meant to prove that I was leaving Panama at some point) all I kept responding was “No, I am getting one to David once I cross the border”.  Try as he may to get me to understand where he was going with his line of inquiry, I failed to understand exactly what he was doing, so finally after about 5 minutes of his questioning (and me lacking to understand) he gave up and simply turned me away back to the Costa Rica side so I could purchase a bus ticket for $20 that showed a return ticket from San Jose, Costa Rica to David, Panama and back to San Jose.  Of course it wasn’t until after the purchase that I “got” what he information he was looking for and am completely convinced that if I had simply said “yes, I have a bus ticket back to Costa Rica… Would you like to see it??” that he would have said “no” he didn’t need to see it and would have stamped me through.  Instead I had to go and make life complicated for myself and apparently for him as well.

In any event, I trudged my way back to the Panama immigration office with my $20 ticket in hand and boarded a teeny air-conditioned bus (whoa!!!  civilization again!!) on my way to David.  About a half-hour later we were stopped at a police checkpoint.  And I chuckle every time I think of this moment because in the moment I kept thinking “man, it’s a good thing I crossed the border legally after all!!” but after the moment I thought “it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway” because the police officer boarded the bus, asked people to take out their identification, looked at 2 or 3 that were being held up in the air, glanced around the bus at people but not really looking at their faces and then exited…  LOL!!

On the way to David, new passengers came on board at various stops and one of them sat next to me.  He was a middle-aged gentleman who had a business and lived on the pacific coast of Panama.  We chit-chatted all the way to David and thankfully, he paid attention to the change given to me when departing the bus in David.  You see, in Costa Rica you either pay for a bus ticket before boarding the bus, or right as you get on.  In Panama, you simply board and pay according to which stop you get off at.  My bus fare was supposed to be $2.95 from Paso Canoas, but I only received $1.00 change when handing the drivers assistant a $10.00.  My bus companion noticed this (and since he knew I was coming from the border) and quickly stood up for me yelling at the assistant to give me the correct change at once.  How very nice of him it was indeed to do so!

So now I was in bustling David… wow… Where to begin…

On To Costa Rica vs Panama

Back to Costa Rica

Back to Panama

Costa Rica

Crocs

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The following morning I rose early and went off looking for my usual cup of delicious Costa Rican coffee.  I went back to the soda I had been to the previous day and after enjoying my coffee headed out back to a portion of the town I had sort of explored the day before but not entirely to my satisfaction.  It was down a dirt road from one of the restaurant/bars along the coast line about 200 meters south of the boat dock.  The dirt path led to a bunch of vacation bungalows.  It wasn’t the bungalows that had intrigued me the day before, but rather a little sign I noticed off to the side of the parking area for the bungalows.  The sign read “Nature conservation area.  Please limit your visit to 15 minutes”.  I was very interested in this area the day before, but since it was starting to get dark by the time I had fist discovered it, I thought it best to save going in the area for a day activity.  Now that it was daytime however, I wandered in…

The little trail led through a dense jungle area that lined a river running toward the Gulf.  Birds and several lizards, army ants and spiders could be spotted everywhere.  As I wandered in obviously taking in the beauty of my surroundings, a sudden spotting out of the corner of my eye froze me in my place.  There, along the bank of the river just about 10 feet from me was a crocodile!!!  No fence separated us, it was just him and I.  Now, I have lived in Florida and have been to Gatorland and have seen many a Gator in my time but all from the safe distance or a separation by either a fence or my being locked in a car while they swam in the surrounding swamps.  Never before had I been so close and without any barrier between a croc and myself.  As all of the little tid bits I’d heard about crocs started coming to mind (such as do not run away from them in a straight line but rather confuse them by changing paths often, crocs have tiny brains, try to gouge their eyes out if attacked, etc) in case it decided to start toward me I continued to simply stay frozen and watch the beast.  It hadn’t moved at all and my only choice of path was either to go forward past his area, or retract.  Of course I chose to retract!!  I had only wandered about 5 minutes into the area so getting out wasn’t difficult at all!!

Quite startled by what I had just seen, I decided to head back to the safety of the hostel to regroup and obviously tell the others about it!  When I got back, the others were awake and starting to plan their day.  And “F” had also made an appearance.  He was completely back to his normal congenial self as he was the day before prior to the drinking and again kept trying to get me to go with him on a special tour through Corcovado Park with him.  I again turned him down and instead joined the two Belgium men to tell them of the crocodiles and to simply get away from “F”.  Upon hearing of the crocs, of course the guys asked me to immediately take them to the area and I agreed.

Not entirely believing the advice from “F” about the park being closed either, the boys wanted to go to the official park office and inquire about its status for themselves.  So we also incorporated this portion to our outing as well.  By this point, since I had acquainted myself with the little town the day prior, I was able to lead the way via the shortcut to the airport that led to the park office.  There the boys discovered the news that indeed the park would be closing in just another day and that they were only allowed to go there, stay one night and return the next.  They asked if I wanted to join them on the trip, but I declined as first the price ticket for such a short trip was rather large ($10 per day plus all sorts of extras that I don’t now recall…) and second, it was too much of a rushed trip for my taste, especially since camping was involved!  I much prefer to spend time camping rather than hiking 8 hours only to sleep one night and return the next day.

In any event, the boys happily signed up (they were seriously the MacGyver types!!) and after all the bills were paid and formalities signed we headed back out to the crocs.  Along the way we enjoyed the numerous scarlet macaws that we passed in the surrounding trees.  They are quite easy to spot as their noise is unmistakable as is the sudden thuds of rock hard almond seeds dropping to the ground below from snacking macaws.  Finally we made it back to the croc entrance and this time, being much wiser, I made the men go first!!  We walked in following the winding path once again until we reached the same bank that I had been to before.  This time however, I wasn’t just looking ahead of myself to watch where I was walking.  No, this time I was also looking at all of my surrounding areas in case any crocs were lurking in the dense jungle around us!!

Go figure that when we got to the bank, the croc was gone!!  Great, I thought, now I look like I’m making stuff up!!  Luckily I was validated quite quickly however, as just as I was standing there stammering that “it was just HERE like 30 minutes ago!!!” like a petulant child, from two separate directions, 2 crocs swam nonchalantly to the edge of the river on the bank!!  The boys of course were fascinated and wanted to try to coax the crocs out of the water!!  Crazy boys, I know!!  And honestly I’m not at all a fan of harassing wildlife in any fashion, especially if they could easily kill you!!  But I stood by as one the boys (the more adventurous MacGyver one) picked up a stick and slap the water in front of the crocs to try to “tick them off” enough to get them to come forward a bit.  As he was doing this, I was several feet behind and started to take better notice of the slow-flowing river.  To my utter shock, it wasn’t just 2 crocs in there, it was dozens!!!  Not just crocs either, but caymens as well!!  Now really there isn’t much to fear from caymens as they are MUCH smaller than crocs and will never grow to the full size of a crocodile, so they didn’t concern me much.  I just found it so fascinating how many live creatures were and had been just below the surface of the river.

After several minutes of unsuccessfully coaxing the crocs out, the boys became bored and decided to continue on the path.  Of course as I started to cross the bank area, the crocs who had turned away from the stick slapping suddenly decided to turn back toward the bank and come toward me!!  This of course freaked me out as one of the boys stated “I think they like you!”.  Yes, for dinner no doubt!!  I once again froze in my steps but was eventually convinced to keep going, keeping a very keen eye out for my new “friends”.  The trail surprisingly was not that long at all after that spot.  We shortly thereafter encountered a barbwire fence that forced us along another part of the trail that was definitely less traveled.  Eventually we made our way back out to the main road after carefully navigating our way over and under the various jungle that was in our way.

The rest of the day was spent playing on the beach, enjoying the macaws, saying goodbye to the Belgium boys who were packing up for their Corcovado Park adventure, and meeting the French man who had come in the night before but had finally decided (yes, it was almost dark again) to wake up!!  Another couple had also joined the crew at The Corner in hopes of also going to Corcovado Park.

Funny side note here, my wonderful landlady Berta had been told by “F” as he had told me that he wanted to take me on a private tour of Corcovado Park.  Berta knew his nature however and had thankfully already become protective of me, especially after hearing of the previous night’s strangeness, and instead offered “F’s” private tour offer to the newest guest couple that had arrived.  “F” was quite furious about this as he told me, because he had told Berta specifically that he only wanted to offer the private tour to me.  I however, was delighted that Berta did what did, and I once again had to tell “F” “thanks, but I was never interested in the private tour with you” all the while thanking Berta profusely for stepping in as she did!!  For all the potentially dangerous situations that I have found myself encountered with while being in Costa Rica, there has always been a more benevolent and protective force in the form of the elder ticos and ticas!!  For this, Berta and others along the way will always have a very special place in my heart.

The night was thankfully uneventful as I simply lingered around The Corner keeping Berta company and chatting with her as best I could.  I only hopped out momentarily after my dinner at a soda for some homemade ice cream Berta had told me about and after chit-chatting a bit with Jul, the man from France, I headed off for some lovely sleep!!

Once again, I neglected to bring my camera for the croc event as I have grown quite accostomed to traveling the town with as little in my possession as possible, but fear not for the adventure continues…

On to Beach Adventure

Back to Costa Rica

Costa Rica

An Interesting Start…

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The first afternoon in Puerto Jimenez, I simply spent wandering the streets of the little town simply getting to know the area and my bearings.  I spent several hours just wandering back and forth checking out all the little nooks and crannies in between private homes that served as short-cuts between “main roads” and all the spaces in between from the landing strip (which actually functions as an airport!!) to the far corners of the town.  I of course stopped for some dinner at a local soda recommended to me by Berta and then settled in for the night at the hostel.

There was a storm settling over us as the sun started to set, and since I wasn’t quite tired yet, I opted to hang out with Berta in the front area.  We spent some time getting to know each other and chit-chatting when another man came by, calling Berta “Mama”.  In fact, this man wasn’t Berta’s son but rather the son of the woman who owned the soda I had eaten dinner at.  “F” as he will be known as from now on was a tour guide for the famed Corcovado Park on the Osa Peninsula, a National Park that attracts real adventurous hiker backpackers.  As I came to later learn about him, he had a lot of tragedy in his life which either from those events or just because it was his nature, he was also an alcoholic.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Anyway, “F” took an immediate liking to me and after the initial introductions were exchanged he left only to return a little later with some beers.  I’m never one to turn down free booze, and since I had yet no idea of his trouble and problem with consuming alcohol, I had no qualms about drinking with him.  As we drank we discussed the usual topics of conversation such as “where are you from”, “what are you doing in Costa Rica” etc.  I gave my general background and stated that I was hoping to find somewhere I could call home and who knows, perhaps start-up my own business of sorts.  When Berta heard this, it became her greatest topic of conversation with me throughout the rest of my stay in Puerto Jimenez, especially since I also stated that I quite liked this particular area.

With Berta sitting at her desk, playing solitaire and listening in to the chatter and interjecting where she had opinion (F spoke English, so at this point the majority was spoken in English with F filling Berta in to what was being said) F and I were steadily becoming intoxicated with beer after beer.  We had at one point even gone to the grocery store for more, which was quite conveniently located just across the street from the hostel as well.

Time skipped by and the next thing I recall was Berta announcing that the 9pm bus would soon be arriving and that we should go scout people from the bus to stay at the hostel.  When I had arrived earlier in the day, I was the first and only person staying in the hostel.  At Berta’s request “F” and I hopped to attention and went off toward the bus station (just down the street a few blocks) to collect any backpackers that may have been on the bus.  I chuckled at myself as we walked down the road on how in less than 12 hours I had gone from being the one escorted and lead to a hostel for the night to being the “hustler” in getting new arrivals to come to my hostel!   But as I was intoxicated, I really just relished the little trip of something new to do.

We made it to the bus stop just as it had dropped off 3 passengers, one very tired man from France, and two travelling friends from Belgium.  “F” and I rounded the trio up and walked them over to The Corner to help get them settled in.  The man from France simply signed in and passed out within 20 minutes of arrival and that was the last anyone saw of him for almost a full day as he apparently spent just about all of the next day sleeping!!  The other two friends from Belgium hung out with myself, Berta and “F” and joined in the booze festivities.  They were interested in hiking and camping in the Corcovado National Park and upon hearing that “F” was a tour guide, became very interested in picking his brain.  It was at this point that we had all learned that the Corcovado Park would be closing in 2 days for the entire month of October for Park maintenance.  So, if one were to want to go into the Park, it could only be for a single night and 2 days.  This greatly saddened the two Belgium friends, as they were quite looking forward to some major hiking and camping in the Park.

In any event, as it was starting to get late, Berta excused herself and retired for the night, while myself, “F” and the two Belgium men decided to continue the fiesta by going to a local bar.  There we had several more drinks and sadly the once festive tune began to turn rather somber and strange as the alcohol in “F’s” system started to bring out an entirely different personality.  While at the bar he continuously tried to hit on me and though I tried to politely turn him down, perhaps it was the rejection and his drunken stupor, but the demons began to draw out of him.  Noticing signs I didn’t want to associate myself with, I began to withdraw myself from his company and instead talked more with the Belgium friends and others at the bar.  For those of me who know me, when intoxicated I tend to become a very social butterfly.  I love talking with everyone and enjoy festive tones throughout drunken occasions and drift away from energies that are negative.

The final straw for us all was when “F” began telling us about the tragedies in his life (which I won’t share as it’s not my business to) and then turned on the two Belgiums claiming they were giving him a look he didn’t approve of and that he would kill them if they didn’t stop.  The Belgiums tried to pacify the now very touchy situation by buying “F” another beer as the three of us scurried back to the hostel, leaving “F” to his tico friends at the bar.  I mentioned earlier about the great security at The Corner, and it was particularly in this occasion that I was most happy for it.  The upstairs area where we were all sleeping (my private room and the dorm room area for the boys) was padlocked and only those with room keys could open it.  We locked the gate behind us and all went to sleep.

On to Crocs!

Back to Costa Rica

Costa Rica

Manuel Antonio

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All the way down to Manuel Antonio I chatted up with the two fellow travelers, henceforth known as “B” and “A”.  They were from the States and were traveling friends down in Costa Rica for vacation.  Together we made our long journey through a long lay-over in Puntarenas and a drive through Jaco (which has been recommended to me by several people who have previously visited Costa Rica but locals have said not to travel there and frankly consider it one of the scars of the Country because of the large party and drug atmosphere there) and finally arrived late in the afternoon to our final destination of Manuel Antonio.

Upon exiting the bus (a small 15 minute and 250 colones ride from Quepos) we were instantly “attacked” by several people trying to get us to go to whichever hotel or hostel they worked for.  Backpackers are targets for these workers who get commission for every person they bring to whatever hotel or hostel there is in the area.  At first we were quite reluctant to follow the advice of the individuals who met us as most looked drugged out and some reeked of alcohol.  Nonetheless, since it was a backpackers hostel they were recommending to take us to, we followed.

We were led to the Costa Linda Backpackers, about a 500 meter walk from the beach and a 300 meter walk to the Manuel Antonio National Park and after checking out the accommodations decided it was a nice enough place to stay for the weekend.  We had also agreed on the way down that we would share a room while staying there to cut down on our costs.  For the first night we were able to score a private room with a private bath for $15 per person, but as this room was reserved for the next few nights, we had to move to another private room with shared bathrooms for $10 per person per night for the remainder of our stay.

Despite the initial sketchiness of the place, this area turned out to be one of the best places I had visited so far.  But I am getting ahead of myself…

As it was late in the evening with the sun already starting to set, there really wasn’t a ton to do except, well what else but get drunk!!  Ok, one other little factor played into our decision to leave the exploration to the next day, and that was that within an hour or two of us arriving there a fantastic thunderstorm erupted!!  So since we were bound to stay under shelter by a beautiful storm we opted to stay in the restaurant that was just at the entrance and part of the Backpackers to toast the day and the beauty around us.  I really don’t recall how much beers were at this location, but I do recall them being cheap as we had several rounds that night toasting the lightning and thunder as it clapped and struck around us and chatting the night away.

As all the drinkers out there know, once you get started the inevitable million trips to the bathroom begins.  I had not yet “broken the seal” but had need to at one point and borrowed the keys to our room so I could use the bathroom.  I happily made my way into the room, went into the bathroom and even though I was the only one in there, I closed the door to the bathroom…

BIG MISTAKE!!!  Or well, perhaps really it was much better that I did as you will soon learn… You see, behind that door on the wall was (no joke here) a spider with a leg span of about 5 inches!!!  I know that as an arachnophobia our memories and stories tend to make these fearful creatures out to be much larger than they actually are, but in this case I’m not exaggerating!  And this wasn’t one of those large daddy long-legs with large leg spans but teeny bodies… No sir!  This one had a long but slender body!!

So there I was, one hand on the button of my pants, my eyes focused steadily on the spider, my body frozen in fear.  Thoughts began to pass through my drunken brain… “What do I do?!?!?!”… “Perhaps I can just pee really, really fast then tell someone about it when I leave cause I really, REALLY need to pee!!”.  The showdown continued for probably another 30 seconds like this with me staring at the spider and the spider staring back… I was about 2 seconds from just peeing really fast then leaving when the spider moved a single leg about 2 millimeters to the right.  And that’s all it took, I was out of there!!  I flung the door open and ran as fast as I could to the exit of our room, out the hall and back to my friends at the table who were still chatting along happily.  I sat for a moment wringing my hands waiting for a moment to interrupt their conversation.  Then I shyly told them that we have a HUGE spider in our room and that I need it removed immediately!!!  I of course told them too that I was arachnophobic and was sorry to make such a deal out of it, but it had to go!  “B” got all excited as he was quite interested to see the large arachnid (Lord only knows why!!) and he said he would go take care of it.

While he was gone, “A” and I exchanged stories of fears, which for privacy purposes I won’t reveal hers here but I will say it was quite an unusal one!  We continued to chat until “B” finally came back and said “sorry it took so long, I first wanted to get some pictures of the spider, and then it took quite some time to get him out of the room as it kept trying to bite me!”  Thankfully he didn’t go into too many other gross details of how he removed the spider but as my relief for knowing the spider was out of the room set in, my now even more extreme need to pee returned!!  But before even thinking of returning to the room, I had to know exactly where the spider was taken too…  “B” then informed me that since it was so hard to get it out, he was only able to get it as far as the hallway… “I’m sorry, WHAT?!?!?!?!  You mean it’s in the HALLWAY right OUTSIDE OUR ROOM?!?!?!?!”  This made me even more paranoid and though I really didn’t want to have to go back to the bathroom, my body was telling me otherwise.  So I begged “B” to come with me and walk ahead of me to the room just in case the arachnid was in the hallway or on a wall of the hallway on the way to the room.  Such a nice person he was as he acquiesced and allowed me safe passage back to our room so I could finally relieve my bladder:)

The night continued much happier and arachnid-free from there as we continued to fiesta the night away until we all finally crashed and slept soundly.  We awoke to a stormy morning the next day and therefore opted to wait to go to the National Park until the next day when we hoped the weather would cooperate.  After breakfast and taking a picture of a “cute little guest” (see below picture) we moved into our new hostel room (private room with shared communal bath), met a local lizard who was always hanging out in one area and whom I fondly named Miguel, and generally hung around waiting for the storm to recede.

“A” had to get to a bank for more money, so about mid-day when the rain finally stopped, we all headed on a walk back up toward Quepos where the only ATMs were found.  Along the way we spotted several Capuchin Monkeys making their way across man-made ropes that stretched from one side of the road to the other.  These ropes are part of the “Children Saving the Rainforest” project and can be found throughout Costa Rica.  When electrical wires were first being erected to provide electricity to various areas, the monkeys thinking they were useful items to climb across to get to where they wanted to go, would often get electrocuted and die when they gripped them.  This was quite a large problem in the beginning, but it was quickly remedied as the “Rainforest” group stepped in with their fantastic idea of providing safe and non-electrical passages for the monkeys to use.

After our walk back up into town and a nice lunch and beer, we headed back to Manuel Antonio and A and I spent the rest of our afternoon “butt surfing” in the ocean!!  Now for those who don’t know what this is, Butt surfing is where you sit in shallow areas of the beach and allow the coming waves to toss you around the shallow beach as if you were simply a grain of sand.  It really is quite amazing the power of the Ocean as we literally were tossed and pushed and pulled and pommelled by the tiniest of waves!!  Due to the anywhere from small to large rocks and pebbles on the beach however, at times it was quite painful!!  But still fun nonetheless:)

Our night was spent again with good food, good conversation and company, and of course many great beverages.  If our hopes were to come true, the next day would be a sunny one so we could visit the Manuel Antonio National Park.

Back to Costa Rica

Pictures of Puntarenas and Manuel Antonio (including Costa Linda Backpackers Hostel and critters of the area):