Costa Rica, the cheap and friendly country!
We awake in Boquette and although its a little cloudy, we can see a heck lot more than the day before. With a light heart we head for the border of Costa Rica. The light heart fades quickly. Despite numorous border crossings under our belt, they never fail to frustrate me. Not that the Costa Rican border was particularly difficult, but for some reason I get charged $10 to leave Panama, Mike $1. Go figure.
So its my turn to check us into Costa Rica. After denying the help of the local kids, I set off on a mission of visiting 'this' window, then 'that' one. Back to the 'this' window to be told I now need to pay for 'that' piece of paper, at yet another window. The guy starts looking at the clock, 5 minutes to midday, or in his case 5 minutes to lunch time. I'm still missing one piece of paper. Get it and back to 'this' window and suprise suprise the guy has gone to lunch - for two hours! I notice the larger Aduana office and proceed, with a pretend girly tear in my eye, to explain that the Aduana booth is cerrado. The tear works! However it still takes an hour for the poor chap, who fell for the tear, to process our papers.
Costa Rica is supposed to be expensive, this is mainly due to the number of ex-pats living there, tourist prices and all that. But after bouncing up and down a dirt road in the coastal perma culture village of Uvita, we find what used to be a hostal of sorts. Michael, a German expat, is reluctant to let us stay but because of the Scotish connection and as we promised to make no work for him, we pitch our tent on a covered platform, in a rather pleasant jungle setting. Holly, the caretaker, who returns later to find us already set up, is English but grew up in Scotland, so after the comparing of notes on locations of education, work and living in Scotland, Holly won't except payment for the tent pitch or the coffee. Nice one.
A morning dip in a waterfall, more chatting about Scotland and perma culture, before we head off for San Jose in search of a new rear tyre for me and a new spring for Mike's shock absorber. We pick up a new tyre enroute and get drenched in the process. Once again, what would have been a scenic and twisty ride, is turned into a nothing but cloud and fog and 'Oh Michelle has a new tyre' and therefore a slippery ride into San Jose. Note to one's self. When riding through Central America in the wet season, it is better to get going early in the morning to miss the afternoon drenchings.
Riding into San Jose, I was reminded of driving into the outskirts of an Australian city. It had a nice familiar feeling to it. However, I kept this opinion to myself when Mike, pulled up next to me at one of the hundred sets of traffic lights in the city, exclaims, 'God this is a dump of a place!'
The city itself has nothing of excitement, unless you're playing 'Guess how many of the hookers are actually tranvestites' game. I was rubbish.
And of course we get caught out by a public holiday and have to spend the weekend there. We do a few day trips to the outlying areas, farms, volcanos and shopping malls (for the Cinema, food court lunches and to get rid of our material urges - we can't afford anything!). Tuesday comes and of course the part that Mike ordered for his shock absorber hasn't actually been ordered. This travelling marlarky is becoming a bit predictable. If we are in need of something for the bike, the only place to get it will be a dump. We will arrive on a Saturday afternoon of a long weekend and then what we need/oredered won't be available.
So onto La Fortuna and Volcano Arenal. We pitch our tent (Actually it was Mike who pitched the tent with the 'help' of a rather cute puppy) in the backyard of Hostal Sissy. Views of the volcano of course. And super cheap.
So what we save on accomodation, we blow on what has become a bit of a habbit of ours, Hot Springs. Mmmm, nice, and well, hot! Oh and I nearly forgot, Mike gets us some free drinks. An honsety system doesn't work if Mike sorts out the final bill, having to declare just how many drinks we've had. The volcano doesn't do much that evening, just a wee explosion of hot stones that last for all of five minutes and that we mostly miss. We bump into Lars and Sandra and find some cheap eats. Our budget's doing well in Costa Rica.
It has to be our shortest day so far on the trip (not counting our attempted departure of Uyuni), a mere 40km to Nuevo Arenal. Andreas and Christine had told us about a German Bakery and we follow the abundance of signs and with that amount of direction, we were never going to miss it! Without looking at the price, we're lured by the look of the struedal with vanilla icecream and the aroma of coffee. It's elevensies, so it has to be done. Tom, the German baker, is a keen biker and before we know it, we're on his boat watching the sun set with beers, delicious cheescake and snacks. Ah, this is the life. Dinner that night is raiding the restaurant fridge of imported cheeses, sausages, hams and local beer, setting the scene with tea lights due to yet another power cut. My cravings for European food satisfied.
When we go to take our leave the next morning, Tom refuses to accept payment for any food (The struedal and coffee alone would have set us back $12, ouch!) or for the accomodation, a nice cabaña that he has out back for the sole purpose of accomodating friends and family, and is a little put out by the fact that we actually want to leave. Apparently most bikers end up staying for a few days at least. Muchas gracias to Tom!
So its my turn to check us into Costa Rica. After denying the help of the local kids, I set off on a mission of visiting 'this' window, then 'that' one. Back to the 'this' window to be told I now need to pay for 'that' piece of paper, at yet another window. The guy starts looking at the clock, 5 minutes to midday, or in his case 5 minutes to lunch time. I'm still missing one piece of paper. Get it and back to 'this' window and suprise suprise the guy has gone to lunch - for two hours! I notice the larger Aduana office and proceed, with a pretend girly tear in my eye, to explain that the Aduana booth is cerrado. The tear works! However it still takes an hour for the poor chap, who fell for the tear, to process our papers.
Costa Rica is supposed to be expensive, this is mainly due to the number of ex-pats living there, tourist prices and all that. But after bouncing up and down a dirt road in the coastal perma culture village of Uvita, we find what used to be a hostal of sorts. Michael, a German expat, is reluctant to let us stay but because of the Scotish connection and as we promised to make no work for him, we pitch our tent on a covered platform, in a rather pleasant jungle setting. Holly, the caretaker, who returns later to find us already set up, is English but grew up in Scotland, so after the comparing of notes on locations of education, work and living in Scotland, Holly won't except payment for the tent pitch or the coffee. Nice one.
A morning dip in a waterfall, more chatting about Scotland and perma culture, before we head off for San Jose in search of a new rear tyre for me and a new spring for Mike's shock absorber. We pick up a new tyre enroute and get drenched in the process. Once again, what would have been a scenic and twisty ride, is turned into a nothing but cloud and fog and 'Oh Michelle has a new tyre' and therefore a slippery ride into San Jose. Note to one's self. When riding through Central America in the wet season, it is better to get going early in the morning to miss the afternoon drenchings.
Riding into San Jose, I was reminded of driving into the outskirts of an Australian city. It had a nice familiar feeling to it. However, I kept this opinion to myself when Mike, pulled up next to me at one of the hundred sets of traffic lights in the city, exclaims, 'God this is a dump of a place!'
The city itself has nothing of excitement, unless you're playing 'Guess how many of the hookers are actually tranvestites' game. I was rubbish.
And of course we get caught out by a public holiday and have to spend the weekend there. We do a few day trips to the outlying areas, farms, volcanos and shopping malls (for the Cinema, food court lunches and to get rid of our material urges - we can't afford anything!). Tuesday comes and of course the part that Mike ordered for his shock absorber hasn't actually been ordered. This travelling marlarky is becoming a bit predictable. If we are in need of something for the bike, the only place to get it will be a dump. We will arrive on a Saturday afternoon of a long weekend and then what we need/oredered won't be available.
So onto La Fortuna and Volcano Arenal. We pitch our tent (Actually it was Mike who pitched the tent with the 'help' of a rather cute puppy) in the backyard of Hostal Sissy. Views of the volcano of course. And super cheap.
So what we save on accomodation, we blow on what has become a bit of a habbit of ours, Hot Springs. Mmmm, nice, and well, hot! Oh and I nearly forgot, Mike gets us some free drinks. An honsety system doesn't work if Mike sorts out the final bill, having to declare just how many drinks we've had. The volcano doesn't do much that evening, just a wee explosion of hot stones that last for all of five minutes and that we mostly miss. We bump into Lars and Sandra and find some cheap eats. Our budget's doing well in Costa Rica.
It has to be our shortest day so far on the trip (not counting our attempted departure of Uyuni), a mere 40km to Nuevo Arenal. Andreas and Christine had told us about a German Bakery and we follow the abundance of signs and with that amount of direction, we were never going to miss it! Without looking at the price, we're lured by the look of the struedal with vanilla icecream and the aroma of coffee. It's elevensies, so it has to be done. Tom, the German baker, is a keen biker and before we know it, we're on his boat watching the sun set with beers, delicious cheescake and snacks. Ah, this is the life. Dinner that night is raiding the restaurant fridge of imported cheeses, sausages, hams and local beer, setting the scene with tea lights due to yet another power cut. My cravings for European food satisfied.
When we go to take our leave the next morning, Tom refuses to accept payment for any food (The struedal and coffee alone would have set us back $12, ouch!) or for the accomodation, a nice cabaña that he has out back for the sole purpose of accomodating friends and family, and is a little put out by the fact that we actually want to leave. Apparently most bikers end up staying for a few days at least. Muchas gracias to Tom!
posted by Michelle at 10:29 pm
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