hiking | Ramblintraveler

It wasn’t terribly far, nor a bad bus ride over to Huntly. To my disappointment later I realized that Huntly wasn’t technically inside the Highland area at all, but rather about half way between the highlands and the coast… There was another place I was looking to go to -Tomintoul- that I know for SURE was in the Highlands, but it was only accessible by bus on Tuesdays and that would have meant about a week killing time in other areas nearby. Tomintoul sounded appealing simply because first it was in the Highlands and second it’s the highest point of the Highlands… Getting there is half the battle though!! In any event, Huntly was a simple quiet and quaint little place. When I arrived however the weather was not quite cooperating as it had been so far. It was wet and cold and simply dreary!! Very Scottish normal weather I’m sure, just not what I had been used to thus far.

When I arrived I was dropped in town center square. Since I of course didn’t have a planned place to stay for the night, I wandered toward the tourist information center in the square… It happened to be closed and looked as if it would only be open when whomever worked there decided to show (I love small towns!!). There was a little map in the window however that marked a few spots for B&Bs/hotels. I made a mental note of them and started heading in their direction.

Mind you, there was a hotel in the town square itself called Gordon Arms, but I figured being THAT close to the center square, it would probably be too expensive! So I wandered off down the road in the cold and the mist and found the first place of interest. No vacancy, but the nice woman did refer me to another potential place. So off I went back down the road, down the side street, straight on till morning, and found the next lovely place. No vacancy… Hmmm… I really didn’t take Huntly to be THAT popular a destination, especially since there was no one on the streets or no other signs of life really aside from the Hotel owners/workers and some shop employees along the way!

I asked once again about any other place potentially open, but sadly no. So I wandered back to the square and in the opposite direction from where I went before and found another place. No answer… At this point it looked like I could be running out of options… So I wandered into the Gordon Arms hotel holding my breath at the potentially huge sum of money I would have to pay for the night. The hotel clerk greeted me but asked me to hold for a minute. When he arrived ready to check me in, he asked “Are you staying at the hostel?”??

The HOSTEL???? You have a HOSTEL here??? Sure enough, just around the corner not a stone throw away was the Highlander Bunkhouse!!! A hostel for all the crazy cheap backpackers like myself:) Yay!!! Oh and best part too of the hostel, only a few steps from the pub! Double yay!!! So I paid for a night and settled in to my room. I was the only one in my room, which was great, so it was like having a private though there were several other people staying in the hostel. At this point I really wasn’t sure how long I would stay in Huntly. There was certainly much to do there- several castles to hike to, lots of whiskey distilleries to tour, etc, etc. But with the weather being as it was… Well, let’s just say that it just didn’t inspire much of any sort of effort on my part!! So if the next day had the same weather, then I would go. But if it cleared up or showed some promise of clearing up, then I would stay!

In any event, after settling in it just happened to be about beer o’clock… So I headed into the pub for a pint! Now, K and I have had a few chats before about how great pubs are just from the perspective of being able to meet locals fast and chat them up on things to do in their town! This pub was… well… a tiny bit different, but not at all in a bad way!! I wandered in and at the bar were 6 men. Literally as I walked in it was like the room silenced and all heads turned to see who was coming in… I wasn’t sure if that meant that the regulars were all already there so they simply weren’t expecting anyone else to come in, or if they were an unfriendly type, or what really…!!

I sheepishly walked over to the side of the bar (trying my very BEST to seem confident and not sheepish at all!!) sat down and asked the bar maid, who suddenly appeared from around the corner for a beer. And that was basically all it took! Within a few minutes it was like I was just part of the gang. They asked questions of me, I of them, and it we were all best of buds in no time! Everyone was buying everyone else drinks and the festivities just went on like this for hours! As the evening went on, more and more people came and went, which really gave me the distinct feeling that this pub was probably one of the only ones in town as well!! Funnily enough, the 6 original guys who were in the bar (and then another 3 that came in later) weren’t locals at all. They were simply contracted workers who were staying in Huntly to work on wind turbine projects near Huntly. So they weren’t able to give me much information about the area and what to do (nor could the barmaid as she had just recently moved there too) but after a few drinks, I lost interest in that kind of information anyway!

I will say that at least I did behave myself!! I cut myself off at a point, got some food and went to bed so I wouldn’t be hung over the next day! Generally, well, I do like to drink and have quite a hard time moderating myself… But I guess as I get older it gets a little easier as the impending thought of the hangover is enough to make me stop with the booze and start with water!!

I bid farewell and thanks to my fellow bar mates for the night and headed to my hostel. The next day unfortunately had the same dreary and cold weather as the day before. So true to my word I packed up and headed to Inverness.

On to Inverness

Back to United Kingdom

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

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