A week ago Sunday (man time flies), I set out on a solo journey in the wilderness of Costa Rica. That’s not entirely true. I’m reading Into the Wild right now and realizing that my adventure is nothing to write home about compared to dying in the-middle-of-nowhere Alaska. Nonetheless, it was an experience for me, and therefore my blog and I DID see a beautiful beach, so. (I didn't take too many pictures on this trip because I was alone and it seldom came to mind, so I apologize in advance if these are less cool than previous posts. The following picture is the only picture I have of myself from the trip)
I left the center around six, when Nellie’s family kindly dropped me off at the bus station to the beach. It was funny, the whole night before we left until the time after we left… like 10PM to 6AM, there was some CRAZY techo music and jungle sounds blasting from the canyon. I could not figure out who or why people were partying all night so close to us and why we weren’t invited?? This was a puzzle. Anyway, I got to the bus stop around 6:15 and ended up waiting for hours for the bus. I didn’t actually know what bus I was supposed to take, I was just waiting for one for Puntarenas, the town I knew I needed to take the ferry out of. Buses to Jaco and Quepos, other beach towns, kept going by, but I was waiting with another woman and two girls so I figured the bus I wanted was the one they wanted.
Finally, two hours later, their bus came. It was going to Orotina. I had no idea where Orotina was, but I didn’t want to look like an idiot for waiting two hours for a bus with these other people, so I just got on and figured if I was totally off base, I would take a bus back to Atenas. The bus was crazy overcrowded because obviously it was extremely late, and I stood and jostled around with people, freaking out that I was traveling millions of miles into the abyss of nowhere and I would be lost forever.
I did see this weird thing on the bus where people were washing all the monuments at a cemetary and putting flowers down. Everyone together having a mourning moment, I guess.
About thirty minutes later, we reached the end of the line: a dreary, closed down strip mall with four other buses that all said San Jose-Orotina (the route I had just gotten off of). After pacing around slowly for a bit, I got up the nerve to wait in line for what I assumed was the ticket box and say to them “Yo necesito ir a Puntarenas.” And the man pointed and responded, “En el parque.” Finally a Spanish conversation I could understand! I walked nervously in the direction he pointed. And found a park. And then a bus. To Puntarenas. Ah, the sweet smell of relief. I dozed in and out on this bus ride (where several people were drinking 40s at 10 in the morning?) until we reached our final stop. Puntarenas.
“Ahhh glorious Puntarenas! You will take me to my destination! Now tell me Puntarenas, where is the ferry dock?”
Puntarenas didn’t respond. I walked a block. “Puntarenas? Can you hear me?” There was no answer.
I hung my head, Sonny Meyer Bear in hand, and walked aimlessly around with my tail between my legs. Sonny shortly spotted a tourist map! (Here is a picture of Sonny if you've never met him. Or you forget what he looks like. Or you just miss him. He goes everywhere with me. We are best friends.)
Ahh, relief. Puntarenas, you done me good. Your maps might not be as helpful as you want them to be, but your blue signs are primo and so are your casados con pollo.
The ferry ride was nice—I ran into two of my classmates who were also traveling to the Nicoya Peninsula. I rested and watched the amazing Costa Rican scenery pass by. This place is really really beautiful. I watched pelicans go fishing for a while too, which reminded me of my mom. I wondered if my mom had ever seen pelicans do this. They start flying and then they swoop down and fly parallel to the water so their wings are almost touching. They glide slowly until suddenly, they dive head first into the water and emerge with a fish in their beaks. And then they eat and start again. It was really amazing to watch.
After the ferry was a looong bus ride to Cobano, and then to Montezuma. We got there just as the sun was setting, so I took a leisurely stroll down the beach. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to stay in Montezuma, so I kind of scoped out my options and settled on a hotel that was almost completely empty. It had kitchen access, so I went to the store, bought some bread and cheese and a box of wine and made a little dinner. The wine went undrunk though—I was tired and my feathers a little to ruffled to feel comfortable, so I crawled in bed with The Two Towers at seven and was asleep by 8.
This was nice because I woke up at five with nine hours of sleep and set out to go on a hike to some waterfalls. The turnoff was about a ten minute walk down the road, and the hike was an undelineated trail that weaved around a river. It was a little harrowing at times, to be honest. But since I was alone, I could go at any pace I wanted so often times I stopped and just looked at the river and enjoyed its presence. I really love rivers. They are something I’ve realized that I really truly love.
After a few wrong turns, I saw a glimpse of the fall and took off my shoes and bear crawled across the river til I was right in front of it. Oh waterfall, you are so large and powerful! Thank you for letting me just watch you while you surge.
I hiked back, packed up my things, and went to the beach to lay under the little bit of sun that existed while I waited for the bus. Also to dry out my clothes that, against my effort to keep dry, got soaking wet in the river. Here are some weird fungi I saw. How much do you love all my fungi pix?
I waited for the bus for about an hour (much better than two hours) and headed to Santa Teresa. I will never stop being fascinated by the array of people that ride on buses. There was a woman with a cat and 3 feet long flowers, people with their wares to sell on the street, a man with two rolly suitcases and a Hawaiian shirt… Maybe more interesting if you see them. Anyway, I arrived at Mal Pais, and walked to the Tranquilo Backpackers Hostel that was in my guide book. It was actually perfect. They had a huge beautiful kitchen, a computer room, free pancake breakfasts, and best of all, about three gazillion hammocks. I had a nice dorm room all to myself for three nights.
So, on this epic afternoon, I prepared for my four day stint at Playa Carmen! (Located in between Santa Teresa and Mal País… a vast stretch of pure surfer beach heaven.) So much to do. So much LOTR to read. So much sleep to get. So much guacamole to make. So many long romantic walks on the beach to go on…
Here I began my long contemplation of what I was going to do each day for the next four days. I was faced with puzzling conundrums such as, When do I want to eat lunch? and How long do I want to walk on the beach? Evaluating when and how long I wanted to do different things consumed my brain. This was one amazing thing about traveling by myself. I never got distracted from the thoughts I would have about what I was doing at that very moment, or shortly thereafter. It was refreshing! I got lost in a world between Middle Earth, and a tropical beach.
And it’s hard to really explain what it’s like to not talk and to keep all your thoughts to yourself and to be the sole reasoning in any decision. To be completely self absorbed in a way that effects no one. To have such a minimal impact on all your surroundings, while all your surroundings have a much more intense effect on you. It was amazing. But I would say that it’s difficult to travel, especially in a place like Costa Rica, in this state. I would enjoy immensely finding a retreat and being there for a while in my own head. You know? A little Mary Oliver action? I’d be down.
My one big event (if you don’t consider drinking boxed wine at two in the afternoon and reading The Two Towers a big event) was taking a surfing lesson! My instructor was this beautiful blonde man from New Zealand (the stereotypical hot surf instructor, if you will) and, as I felt for the majority of the trip, I would have been a little bit more excited if my beach-ready body were a little bit more… ready. Regardless! I got equipped with a rash guard and a humungous surfboard (apparently better for stability, but super annoying to carry to and from the beach barefoot). He showed me how to jump up onto the board on the sand, how to hold the board up to let waves pass you, how to turn the board around when you’re ready, how to paddle into the wave when it’s coming… it was good! I have the basics down. The best part was basically he did everything for me and all I had to do was stand up. Which I did! Twice! Two big waves I rode all the way in. But surfing is hard! And waves are really powerful. And the ocean is salty. Well, it ain’t no breeze, but it was really fun.
I rewarded myself with a lazy afternoon in a hammock. I watched the incredible beach sunset for a long time and the surfers crashing against the white waves and orange clouds… Oh it’s one of those “I’m in paradise” things, you know? That’s really all it was.
That night I was social for the first time, and asked some girls what was in their delicious avocado concoction that I had noticed them eating a few times. The hostel was located directly next to the grocery store, so I walked right over and bought four avocadoes, a tomato, an onion, cilantro, a lime, and two bags of tortilla chips and made a little feast of my own. I could live off guacamole. It was so so so delicious. I might have made a little too much, but I was able to share with some other guests. I was invited to play cards by the two girls and these other three guys who had just gotten there. And here I learned the joys of backpacking life, and the amazing people you can meet.
The three guys were 22 and 23 from Israel. They were actually three of the funniest people I have met in my life. And did you know that people from Israel have to serve in the army for three years after they turn 18? So they were army vets. Teaching me an army card game. After we finished cards, we just talked for hours and hours and it was some of the most rewarding conversation time I’ve experienced since coming to Costa Rica. Their story, briefly, was after they got out of the army, they worked for 6 months as waiters or bartenders and made about $10,000. Just working and living at home. Then they got volunteer positions in the states or Canada at summer camps for kids with special needs. This gave them free round trip tickets to North America from Israel, so they booked their return flights for 4 or 5 months after the end of their camp, and have been working their ways down from Pennsylvania and Toronto since. They did California, Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua, and now Costa Rica, befriending other adventurous souls, riding on chicken buses, and looking for great parties. It just fills me with wells of emotion to meet great people, you know? They were polite, good-spirited, and hilarious. I don’t think I’ll ever forget them, though I was probably just one of many foreigners they will encounter on their epic journey, which ends in Argentina. I suppose you would call this a feeling of serendipity.
The next morning I awoke bright and early to catch a bus back to San Jose. The travel back wasn’t painless (the bus didn’t have enough traction to make it up a steep hill, so we all had to get out and walk up the hill and wait for 45 minutes for it to get towed to the top, and then the bus attendant had neglected to give me a ticket after I paid my fare and the bus driver almost didn’t let me back on…) but went smoothly enough. I returned to the center with much less bitterness than I had left with.
Even though the internet still didn’t work.
And since then, we have finished our two final lab reports, and final exams, and are starting anew on directed research. The last week was filled with a lot of stress and anguish all around, but I think we are all ready to start (and finish) this final chapter in our educational adventure in Costa Rica. Pura vida, no?
About thirty minutes later, we reached the end of the line: a dreary, closed down strip mall with four other buses that all said San Jose-Orotina (the route I had just gotten off of). After pacing around slowly for a bit, I got up the nerve to wait in line for what I assumed was the ticket box and say to them “Yo necesito ir a Puntarenas.” And the man pointed and responded, “En el parque.” Finally a Spanish conversation I could understand! I walked nervously in the direction he pointed. And found a park. And then a bus. To Puntarenas. Ah, the sweet smell of relief. I dozed in and out on this bus ride (where several people were drinking 40s at 10 in the morning?) until we reached our final stop. Puntarenas.“Ahhh glorious Puntarenas! You will take me to my destination! Now tell me Puntarenas, where is the ferry dock?”
Puntarenas didn’t respond. I walked a block. “Puntarenas? Can you hear me?” There was no answer.
I hung my head, Sonny Meyer Bear in hand, and walked aimlessly around with my tail between my legs. Sonny shortly spotted a tourist map! (Here is a picture of Sonny if you've never met him. Or you forget what he looks like. Or you just miss him. He goes everywhere with me. We are best friends.)
Ah, Puntarenas, thank goodness when you take a nap you leave me a little guide. I moseyed over to a large billboard of the map of the Puntarenas peninsula. “Mapo de Tourismo” it read. It was covered in little bubbles with pictures of tourist activities I might want to partake in and their Spanish names, and then pointed to where they were on the map. I saw several things that looked like boats and said Paquera. Good. So I have a direction.
Now, where was I on this map? I was standing next to some buses and a pulperia. Two streets are intersecting. Fancy that, it is UNDISTINGUISHABLE on this map from every other road. In fact, it would probably be indistinguishable from any other place in Costa Rica, period. And the little “You are HERE” symbol was nowhere to be found.
And the map instantly became useless. Well, Sonny, it’s just you, me, and the streets. Let’s go find this damn ocean. So I walked. Toward what I thought was the ocean. And I saw a dock of some kind! And a man yelling hola at me, go figure. Then he proceeded to try to have a conversation with me. Finally, I picked up “Paquera” (my destination) in his speech and said “Si!” He said something like, no hay mas. Mañana.
Then I remember, shit, it’s Sunday. What if there are no more ferries today? What if I’m stuck in Puntarenas, this sketchy, dirty beach town? My heart sank. I went to look for a phone to call Dayla and tell her I was lost. Phones here don’t take money, you have to have a phone card. So I walked, looking for some place to stay, or some other desperate solution. I walked for blocks and blocks and blocks. I turned right. I found the beach! With lots of people on it. I don’t really know what was going through my head at this point. I was just fumbling my way around, trying to figure out something to do. I found another tourist map. I studied it intently and memorized some street names where there might be possible ferries, and figured I would guess where I was and try to find street signs (which are very hard to find here). After ten minutes of studying I turned around. Immediately a blue sign caught my eye:
“FERRY A PAQUERA 1KM” and an arrow pointing straight ahead.
Praise the heavens. I began walking. And then I became discouraged that I had somehow missed it. I kept walking. I saw another blue sign. And then I saw the FERRY itself. My joy was abounding. I didn’t want to miss it so I power walked (ignoring the multitude of cat calls I was receiving in my over-sized t-shirt, spandex shorts, running shoes, and with a giant white teddy bear tucked under my arm) alongside the beach til I FOUND IT! THE FERRY DOCK! WHERE THERE WERE LOTS OF PEOPLE TRYING TO GET ON A FERRY! I found the ticket office, bought a ticket for the next ferry two hours later, and went to get some lunch.
Now, where was I on this map? I was standing next to some buses and a pulperia. Two streets are intersecting. Fancy that, it is UNDISTINGUISHABLE on this map from every other road. In fact, it would probably be indistinguishable from any other place in Costa Rica, period. And the little “You are HERE” symbol was nowhere to be found.
And the map instantly became useless. Well, Sonny, it’s just you, me, and the streets. Let’s go find this damn ocean. So I walked. Toward what I thought was the ocean. And I saw a dock of some kind! And a man yelling hola at me, go figure. Then he proceeded to try to have a conversation with me. Finally, I picked up “Paquera” (my destination) in his speech and said “Si!” He said something like, no hay mas. Mañana.
Then I remember, shit, it’s Sunday. What if there are no more ferries today? What if I’m stuck in Puntarenas, this sketchy, dirty beach town? My heart sank. I went to look for a phone to call Dayla and tell her I was lost. Phones here don’t take money, you have to have a phone card. So I walked, looking for some place to stay, or some other desperate solution. I walked for blocks and blocks and blocks. I turned right. I found the beach! With lots of people on it. I don’t really know what was going through my head at this point. I was just fumbling my way around, trying to figure out something to do. I found another tourist map. I studied it intently and memorized some street names where there might be possible ferries, and figured I would guess where I was and try to find street signs (which are very hard to find here). After ten minutes of studying I turned around. Immediately a blue sign caught my eye:
“FERRY A PAQUERA 1KM” and an arrow pointing straight ahead.
Praise the heavens. I began walking. And then I became discouraged that I had somehow missed it. I kept walking. I saw another blue sign. And then I saw the FERRY itself. My joy was abounding. I didn’t want to miss it so I power walked (ignoring the multitude of cat calls I was receiving in my over-sized t-shirt, spandex shorts, running shoes, and with a giant white teddy bear tucked under my arm) alongside the beach til I FOUND IT! THE FERRY DOCK! WHERE THERE WERE LOTS OF PEOPLE TRYING TO GET ON A FERRY! I found the ticket office, bought a ticket for the next ferry two hours later, and went to get some lunch.
Ahh, relief. Puntarenas, you done me good. Your maps might not be as helpful as you want them to be, but your blue signs are primo and so are your casados con pollo.The ferry ride was nice—I ran into two of my classmates who were also traveling to the Nicoya Peninsula. I rested and watched the amazing Costa Rican scenery pass by. This place is really really beautiful. I watched pelicans go fishing for a while too, which reminded me of my mom. I wondered if my mom had ever seen pelicans do this. They start flying and then they swoop down and fly parallel to the water so their wings are almost touching. They glide slowly until suddenly, they dive head first into the water and emerge with a fish in their beaks. And then they eat and start again. It was really amazing to watch.
After the ferry was a looong bus ride to Cobano, and then to Montezuma. We got there just as the sun was setting, so I took a leisurely stroll down the beach. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to stay in Montezuma, so I kind of scoped out my options and settled on a hotel that was almost completely empty. It had kitchen access, so I went to the store, bought some bread and cheese and a box of wine and made a little dinner. The wine went undrunk though—I was tired and my feathers a little to ruffled to feel comfortable, so I crawled in bed with The Two Towers at seven and was asleep by 8.This was nice because I woke up at five with nine hours of sleep and set out to go on a hike to some waterfalls. The turnoff was about a ten minute walk down the road, and the hike was an undelineated trail that weaved around a river. It was a little harrowing at times, to be honest. But since I was alone, I could go at any pace I wanted so often times I stopped and just looked at the river and enjoyed its presence. I really love rivers. They are something I’ve realized that I really truly love.After a few wrong turns, I saw a glimpse of the fall and took off my shoes and bear crawled across the river til I was right in front of it. Oh waterfall, you are so large and powerful! Thank you for letting me just watch you while you surge.I hiked back, packed up my things, and went to the beach to lay under the little bit of sun that existed while I waited for the bus. Also to dry out my clothes that, against my effort to keep dry, got soaking wet in the river. Here are some weird fungi I saw. How much do you love all my fungi pix?
I waited for the bus for about an hour (much better than two hours) and headed to Santa Teresa. I will never stop being fascinated by the array of people that ride on buses. There was a woman with a cat and 3 feet long flowers, people with their wares to sell on the street, a man with two rolly suitcases and a Hawaiian shirt… Maybe more interesting if you see them. Anyway, I arrived at Mal Pais, and walked to the Tranquilo Backpackers Hostel that was in my guide book. It was actually perfect. They had a huge beautiful kitchen, a computer room, free pancake breakfasts, and best of all, about three gazillion hammocks. I had a nice dorm room all to myself for three nights.So, on this epic afternoon, I prepared for my four day stint at Playa Carmen! (Located in between Santa Teresa and Mal País… a vast stretch of pure surfer beach heaven.) So much to do. So much LOTR to read. So much sleep to get. So much guacamole to make. So many long romantic walks on the beach to go on…
Here I began my long contemplation of what I was going to do each day for the next four days. I was faced with puzzling conundrums such as, When do I want to eat lunch? and How long do I want to walk on the beach? Evaluating when and how long I wanted to do different things consumed my brain. This was one amazing thing about traveling by myself. I never got distracted from the thoughts I would have about what I was doing at that very moment, or shortly thereafter. It was refreshing! I got lost in a world between Middle Earth, and a tropical beach.
And it’s hard to really explain what it’s like to not talk and to keep all your thoughts to yourself and to be the sole reasoning in any decision. To be completely self absorbed in a way that effects no one. To have such a minimal impact on all your surroundings, while all your surroundings have a much more intense effect on you. It was amazing. But I would say that it’s difficult to travel, especially in a place like Costa Rica, in this state. I would enjoy immensely finding a retreat and being there for a while in my own head. You know? A little Mary Oliver action? I’d be down.
My one big event (if you don’t consider drinking boxed wine at two in the afternoon and reading The Two Towers a big event) was taking a surfing lesson! My instructor was this beautiful blonde man from New Zealand (the stereotypical hot surf instructor, if you will) and, as I felt for the majority of the trip, I would have been a little bit more excited if my beach-ready body were a little bit more… ready. Regardless! I got equipped with a rash guard and a humungous surfboard (apparently better for stability, but super annoying to carry to and from the beach barefoot). He showed me how to jump up onto the board on the sand, how to hold the board up to let waves pass you, how to turn the board around when you’re ready, how to paddle into the wave when it’s coming… it was good! I have the basics down. The best part was basically he did everything for me and all I had to do was stand up. Which I did! Twice! Two big waves I rode all the way in. But surfing is hard! And waves are really powerful. And the ocean is salty. Well, it ain’t no breeze, but it was really fun.
I rewarded myself with a lazy afternoon in a hammock. I watched the incredible beach sunset for a long time and the surfers crashing against the white waves and orange clouds… Oh it’s one of those “I’m in paradise” things, you know? That’s really all it was.That night I was social for the first time, and asked some girls what was in their delicious avocado concoction that I had noticed them eating a few times. The hostel was located directly next to the grocery store, so I walked right over and bought four avocadoes, a tomato, an onion, cilantro, a lime, and two bags of tortilla chips and made a little feast of my own. I could live off guacamole. It was so so so delicious. I might have made a little too much, but I was able to share with some other guests. I was invited to play cards by the two girls and these other three guys who had just gotten there. And here I learned the joys of backpacking life, and the amazing people you can meet.The three guys were 22 and 23 from Israel. They were actually three of the funniest people I have met in my life. And did you know that people from Israel have to serve in the army for three years after they turn 18? So they were army vets. Teaching me an army card game. After we finished cards, we just talked for hours and hours and it was some of the most rewarding conversation time I’ve experienced since coming to Costa Rica. Their story, briefly, was after they got out of the army, they worked for 6 months as waiters or bartenders and made about $10,000. Just working and living at home. Then they got volunteer positions in the states or Canada at summer camps for kids with special needs. This gave them free round trip tickets to North America from Israel, so they booked their return flights for 4 or 5 months after the end of their camp, and have been working their ways down from Pennsylvania and Toronto since. They did California, Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua, and now Costa Rica, befriending other adventurous souls, riding on chicken buses, and looking for great parties. It just fills me with wells of emotion to meet great people, you know? They were polite, good-spirited, and hilarious. I don’t think I’ll ever forget them, though I was probably just one of many foreigners they will encounter on their epic journey, which ends in Argentina. I suppose you would call this a feeling of serendipity.
The next morning I awoke bright and early to catch a bus back to San Jose. The travel back wasn’t painless (the bus didn’t have enough traction to make it up a steep hill, so we all had to get out and walk up the hill and wait for 45 minutes for it to get towed to the top, and then the bus attendant had neglected to give me a ticket after I paid my fare and the bus driver almost didn’t let me back on…) but went smoothly enough. I returned to the center with much less bitterness than I had left with.
Even though the internet still didn’t work.
And since then, we have finished our two final lab reports, and final exams, and are starting anew on directed research. The last week was filled with a lot of stress and anguish all around, but I think we are all ready to start (and finish) this final chapter in our educational adventure in Costa Rica. Pura vida, no?
Beautiful photos; wonderful narrative. Thank you, Mom
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