Journal
Costa Rica (February)
Hola Amigos… I’m writing from San Jose, Costa Rica, having said farewell to Mexico at the beginning of February. What Costa Rica lacks in Culture and history it makes up in scenery and fauna. If you were to spray-paint all the crows and frogs in Ireland vibrant shades of Yellow, Red and Green it would start to look a bit like Costa Rica. Throw in a few jungles, banana trees, coffee plants, monkeys, turtles, snakes, coconuts and you’re almost there. I spent the first few days checking out the capital San Jose. From there I went white water rafting through the rainforest two hours away. It was beautiful. We rafted through the dark green vegetation passing wild banana trees, toucans and the Orange Poro plants in full bloom. Halfway through the heavens opened up and we got battered from above and below. That was certainly a highlight of my trip so far.
Costa Rica has two coastlines, the Caribbean and the Pacific. After a few days in the capital San Jose I headed down to the south east for a bit of Caribbean flavour. I stayed in a tent on the beach in some kind of hippie campsite. I woke up to find half the residents naked on the beach. I kept my shorts on and asked the local workers if I could join in their game of beach soccer. I’ve never played a more dangerous game in my life! These guys never went for the ball. After a while I learned the only way to get by them uninjured was to kick the ball past them and jump as high as possible as I went by. And if that wasn’t enough, the beach was covered in palm trees. Every time I side-stepped a player I almost head butted a tree. Then the most dangerous moment of all…. a giant coconut fell about 40 metres and landed two feet from me. Even the locals were shaken. (That’s why you only see tourists sitting underneath coconut trees). After scoring a fourth goal to put my side 4-3 ahead I could feel the tension growing. The machete style tackles got fiercer. It was time to make my excuse and leave. I bought the players a Gatorade and scarpered.
I spent the next few days searching for a restaurant that served fresh fish. Surprisingly there were few. So I headed for the Pacific coast. 12 hours of busride later I hit the northwest coast with its famous sparkling sands. By this time I was on a mission. I wanted fish. I was Ernest Hemingway in search of a giant Marlin. But there was no way I was paying the crazy gringo charter prices. So I tried another approach and there followed the most interesting two days of my trip so far. I set off, impulsively one morning, on a two hour trek around the coast to a remote fishing village inaccessible by road. In my pocket were the directions to an equally remote cabin close to the village where some friends made in the capital San Jose were spending time in the forest. I reached the village (having had to swim across a river estuary inhabited by saltwater crocodiles) parched from thirst. I met my buddies Brendan Reid and Aaron McCoy by the beach. After chilling out for a while, Brendan and I found our man.. a local fisherman. And for thirty dollars he agreed to take us out the next day.
But not before I would have the worst nights sleep in my life. My friends in the forest offered me a hammockunderneath their wooden cabin, built on stilts. The place was crawling with giant spiders, crickets, giant frogs, mosquitoes and surrounded by trees full of howling monkeys. It was a serious nappy moment. The others assured me that once the light was off they all went away. Bollox! They were still there I just couldn’t see them. Anyway I climbed into the hammock and assumed the foetal position and turned off the porch light. Not five minutes later the dry leaves below me started to break and crack. Meanwhile the cacophony of flesh eating crickets grew louder, as surely they were surrounding my hammock in a giant army. Then the monkeys joined in. By now I’m ready to run screaming into the woods to be never seen again. Six hours later the sun came up. I peeked over the hammocks edge to make sure all was clear. All I could see was the warm morning sun streaking through the trees. My nightmare was over. I changed my underpants and all was cool…
That morning the Pacific Ocean was kind to us. We filled the boat with fish, all caught on a line using small fish as bait. When our lift back failed to turn up at the arranged hour, we had no choice but to hitch a lift back with a box full of bleeding fish! Brendan worked his charms on a young woman driving a jeep. That evening we made a big party and asked the locals to join us. One of the cabin people (a chef back home) cooked the fish over a wood fire. We washed it down with strong Rum until we all passed out. A fine evening indeed.
So that’s about all my news. Its time to move on to Colombia because as beautiful as Costa Rica is, its like the 52nd state of America due to it’s relatively stable political situation.
Your traveling friend…
Flavriguez