This was the first real weekend [November 23, 24, 25] I stayed in town.
Lindsay left on Saturday morning. It was triste. She cried. I cried.
And that's all I have to say about that.
xoxo, Cleome
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Weekend Trip #6: Bocas Del Toro, Panama [!]
Panama
Let me just preface this post by saying that mine and Lindsay´s trip to Panama is hands down my favorite travel adventure (so far). So excuse my love radiating from this recap. I just can't contain it....
Dates: Thursday, November 15- Sunday, November 18
First, let me discuss the rationale behind embarking on a nine hour trip, dealing with the hassle of leaving Costa Rica/entering Panama, and venturing to a place that was reputed to have a relatively similar atmosphere to Puerto Viejo [a place we'd already been].
1) The destination was not just Panama- it was Bocas del Toro, a collection of islands in the Caribbean off the coast of northern Panama.
2) It was Lindsay's last weekend, and we wanted to end with a memorable trip.
3) Islands=water and beaches. And we could finally get that snorkeling trip in.
4) We'd heard it was really cool.
5) Did I mention we'd be going to PANAMA? An entirely different country? <- yeah, pretty syked about that aspect.
We figured that if we were already springing for the trip by taking a day off volunteering, we may as well go extreme luxury and book a tour there as well. The tour included transportation to and from the islands [provided we got to Puerto Viejo on our own], two-nights of accommodation [we got to choose our hostel], and a 9:00am-5:00pm snorkeling/dolphin watching/catamaran trip on Saturday. We researched how much it would cost us to book all that stuff ourselves, and figured we'd be paying roughly $30 more for using a tour company. An essentially hassle-free [and hopefully transport issue-free] weekend for $30 extra? We were sold.
[I've been trying to keep my weekly spending, including on the weekends, below $125. The tour package alone cost $140, so I knew I'd be going over budget. The week ended up costing me roughly $230- but it was so worth it. Plus I made up for it by not going anywhere the next weekend.]
Setting Off
Thursday after volunteering, Lindsay and I headed straight into San Jose to catch the 2:00pm bus to Puerto Viejo. We made it to San Jose [after being passed by the first bus headed there because in trying to flag it down, I accidentally put my thumb up- international hitchhiker symbol. The bus passed us with the driver rubbing his fingers together on one hand, demonstrating that we had to pay. Oops...] with plenty of time to spare, the bus showed up on time, and no major excitement occurred on the ride down. For once, our transportation [at least the first part of it] had worked out. Good omen?
We had decided to once again stay at Rocking J's for the night, thinking we could handle the crazy party hostel if it was only for a day. But our experience there this time around was completely different from when we'd stayed there five weeks ago [wow does time fly]. For one, we got in around 6:30pm- a much more reasonable hour than last time. When we arrived only a handful of people were milling around, no tents were set up on the green, and the bar's music was much more mellow. As Lindsay and I checked in, a man of about 50 [obviously of some importance there] came over and introduced himself as J- as in the "J" of Rocking J's. He told the clerk to give us some icees, and then invited Lindsay and I to create a mosaic or a mural [or both], and to come on a tour of the mysterious building out back called the Ark. We politely declined making art, but figured a tour of the Ark couldn't hurt. Boy were we in for a surprise.
J's Ark
I'm not even sure how I can go about describing the Ark in a way that makes sense. I'm going to preface the description by saying that the Ark is a rich mad man's response to the Mayan-predicted end of the world. Amazing but incredibly insane. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera on me [didn't realize I'd want it], so the inside exists only in my mind. But here goes an attempted description of the Ark in all its glory.
The Ark sits behind Rocking J's, in a large, grassy area. From the outside it resembles a three-tiered, mural-covered pyramid. Its foundation is made up of seven enormous shipping crates that have been welded together so that the Ark can float. The building has been worked on for the past year and a half, and still the top two levels are under construction. But even without being finished, it's clearly the work of a mad genius.
Like I said, the Ark has three different levels. The top two make up what will become J's house, and are made completely out of handcrafted, recycled wood and mirrors. His private space includes a secret artillery room [entered by pressing some button in the living room, and fully equipped with any video game-obsessed youth's weapons/accessories wildest dreams. I'm assuming much of it is illegal...], artwork from all over the world [personalized so that every piece includes a picture of his dog], and an "ice room"- an airtight location where everything needed for a bar will be made out of ice. The public bottom level [for the lucky souls who make it onto his boat before the floods come...] has four different spaces, each located inside one of the shipping containers and entered through a trap door at the top. One serves as a medical center [complete with specialized enough equipment to perform surgeries], one currently [!] contains $15,000 worth of dried/dehydrated food in enormous bulk bins, one is a dorm with 12-15 bunks, and the final space [and most bizarre] is a recording studio- complete with expensive instruments, tie-dyed and soundproofed walls, floor to ceiling mirrors, and state-of-the-art recording equipment. Like I warned you- it's absolutely insane.
The entire tour [which consisted of Lindsay and I, and a neighbor couple of J's], Lindsay and I would make incredulous eye contact and whisper either "I'm scared," [Lindsay] "This guy is crazy," [Lindsay again] or "Don't let him hear. We'll discuss this later," [me]. The tour lasted two hours, and by 9:00pm we were not only sufficiently freaked out, but starving as well. We thanked J for the... incredible... tour, and hurried out of the hostel to grab some dinner.
The night was insanely calm for Rocking J's [pretty much a normal hostel where people shut up and went to bed by 10:00pm]. The only excitement of the night occurred when Lindsay spotted a cockroach in her bag, and proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes alternating between shrieking and reaching into her bag to pull stuff out. I was quite helpful and held the flashlight over her backpack.... Plus said encouraging things. She eventually found and squashed the offending insect, and then we headed to our hammocks for a surprisingly decent night's sleep.
Border Crossing [My First on Foot!]
7:30am the shuttle pulled up to Rocking J's, and Lindsay and I crawled in. We were joined by two Australian surfer dudes [Kain with his three boards, while Zac only brought two], and a Swiss German guy, Kevin- while none of us talked all that much on the way to the border, we'd end up hanging out quite a bit over the weekend. It took about an hour to reach the border, and I think all of were surprised when we finally hit it. It didn't appear at all like you'd expect the division between countries to look [maybe this was just my American ignorance coming into play, but I was expecting barbed wire, policemen, and guard dogs.... Oh, and also a luggage-checking station]. The entire crossing process consisted of a small office on the Costa Rican side where you filled out an immigration form and got an exit stamp, a rickety ex-train bridge with planks missing that you walked over, and an office on the Panamanian side where you got an entry stamp. The Costa Rican side moved along fairly quickly, but the Panamanian side was experiencing... difficulties, and the line literally did not move for over an hour. Finally the window opened, though, we got our stamps, and were whisked off in another shuttle.
We arrived at the dock around 11:00am, and after waiting for a bit, were shown into the least ferry-like ferry I've ever seen. Compared to the huge boat we'd taken getting to Montezuma [three stories, with the bottom level large enough to transport multiple semi trucks], taking this "ferry" was essentially the equivalent of hopping in the back of an already-crowded pickup truck- except on water. Not only was the boat the size of a large van, but our trip included a large group of [intoxicated] local teenagers toting booze, who spent the ride shouting to each other and singing at the top of their lungs. That's not even taking into account the actual ride itself- a jolting, bumpy experience where I more than once feared we'd capsize [Lindsay and I later agreed the trip felt like you were falling down stairs on your butt]. I was quite relieved when we made it to Isla Colon- the main island- in one piece.
Bocas
When we arrived at midday, the islands' Independence Day celebration had already begun: parades, gunshots, fireworks, you name it. While it was tempting to stick around and watch, hunger and the need to be relieved of our backpacks won out, so the five of us decided to catch a water taxi to the island where our hostel, Aqua Lounge, was located- a $1, minute-long trip.
Before booking our tour, Lindsay and I had done a bit of research on places to stay. Aqua Lounge topped the list on most sites we checked out. It's essentially the Rocking J's of Bocas- a major party hostel, best known for its crazy nights, and THE water trampoline. There turned out not to be that many beds in the hostel, though, so our party was lucky and scored the last few spots when we turned up. Lindsay and I ended up in a dorm with a large group of Israeli guys, some French dudes, and a pair of 18-year-old surfers [Jordan from Canada, and Yotom from Israel]. We said hi to everyone as we put our stuff away, but left right away to find a place to eat. On our way out the back door we ran into Ben from Montezuma- we'd been in communication with him about our plans to go to Bocas and thought there was a 50/50 chance he'd show up. It was nice to see another familiar face; the three of us headed out to grab some lunch.
After lunch [a laborious process of finding a restaurant and waiting for food that took us until 3:00pm], we just hung out at the hostel, talked with the guys we'd ridden down with, swam, and relaxed. Around 6:00pm, Lindsay and I decided to head to the main island for some exploring/dinner, and managed to convince Ben, Kain, Zac, and Kevin to come along. Turned out to be a good thing we left for dinner so early- we wouldn't end up eating for another three hours anyway.
Celebration!
We manage to arrive on Isla Colon at the exact perfect moment to watch the Independence Day Parade. The streets were swarming with people- everyone from every island had come to congregate on Isla Colon for the evening. The parade was made up of at least five separate groups of baton twirlers/drum lines [each with their own distinctive outfits], and in between each group, random guys would be walking around spraying fire from a can [seriously], or lighting off fireworks in the middle of the crowd- one batch of pyromaniacs lit theirs off so close to us, I could feel the hot ash raining down. The atmosphere was incredibly festive, and the music was so invigorating I don't think any of us stopped bobbing to the beat the entire two and a half hours we stood there. Our group definitely stood out- some of the only foreigners, and consistently exclaiming about something in the parade. We were probably just as interesting a spectacle for the Panamanians as the performers....
Eventually it got late enough that we needed food- fast. We searched the main road for a cheap rotisserie chicken place that had been recommended to us, and after successfully annoying the workers [mainly thanks to Kain's "chicken dance" while attempting to convey his order...], we sat down to the best chicken I can remember having. Ever. The delicious French fries that accompanied the meal didn't hurt, either. Having satisfied our bellies, we wandered back up the street to catch the parade's finale, in the process simultaneously meeting another group of travelers and losing Kevin. After pacing the streets shouting "Kevin from Switzerland!" at the top of our lungs for 20 unsuccessful minutes, we gave up looking for him [<- terrible travel buddies, I know], and headed to a local bar/dance club. [Hey, Kevin eventually made his way there as well, so it all turned out okay. Stop with the guilting.]
Ended up seeing most of the others from Aqua Lounge at the bar, and we danced insanely for a few hours. Hot, sweaty, crowded- and so much fun. Eventually Lindsay and I headed back to the hostel, though, to try and get some sleep before our tourthe next that morning. The hostel ended up being too hot and loud to really get any sleep, but it's the thought that counts, right?
Yes I Will Lounge on a Catamaran for Seven Hours
^That's exactly what Lindsay and I did from 9:00am-4:00pm on Saturday. With a bit of dolphin watching [I saw one's back] and snorkeling [for, like, 20 minutes] thrown in. But the day was spent mostly sunbathing [and burning] on a catamaran. We lucked out with the weather- apparently it was the first gloriously sunny day in over a week. Success!
Saturday evening Lindsay and I showered and headed into town for an early dinner. We had okay sushi, but really delicious martinis, so overall dinner was good ;) Then we headed back to Aqua Lounge because that's where the big party was going to be. Plus it was Ladies' Night, which in Latin America means free drinks for girls for an hour. I ended up heading back to Isla Colon for about an hour with Jordan and Yotom- searching for an Internet cafe for Yotom- and we made it back to the hostel at the very end of Ladies' Night [literally, we arrived at 10:33pm, when free drinks were supposed to end at 10:30pm]. But somehow I managed to squeeze in getting three free drinks- two of which I gave to the guys, no worries Mom.
Saturday night was essentially a repeat of Friday- but much more fun, for some reason. Lots of dancing, meeting people, good music, etc. The bar closed at 3:00am and all non-guests were kicked out, but the rest of us staying at the hostel continued to hang out. I ended up crawling into bed around 5:00am, while Lindsay didn't come into the dorm until 6:20am- 20 minutes before we had to wake up to catch our ferry back to Costa Rica.... We both were feeling really great when the alarm went off at 6:45am.
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig
Ferry to dock, shuttle to border, second shuttle to Puerto Viejo, just missed early bus to San Jose, waited for five hours until 4:00pm for bus to the capital, waited at sketchy station until 10:00pm for bus back to Atenas. Was asleep before head hit the pillow, and waking up Monday was brutal.
I feel like our trip to Bocas del Toro was my favorite because it had all the aspects of what traveling should be like. Parades, fireworks, music, dancing, delicious & cheap food, fun people to group up with, gorgeous scenery, late nights, and a bit of relaxation, just for kicks. In one word: amazing.
And did I mention we went to PANAMA???
xoxo, Cleome
Let me just preface this post by saying that mine and Lindsay´s trip to Panama is hands down my favorite travel adventure (so far). So excuse my love radiating from this recap. I just can't contain it....
Dates: Thursday, November 15- Sunday, November 18
First, let me discuss the rationale behind embarking on a nine hour trip, dealing with the hassle of leaving Costa Rica/entering Panama, and venturing to a place that was reputed to have a relatively similar atmosphere to Puerto Viejo [a place we'd already been].
1) The destination was not just Panama- it was Bocas del Toro, a collection of islands in the Caribbean off the coast of northern Panama.
2) It was Lindsay's last weekend, and we wanted to end with a memorable trip.
3) Islands=water and beaches. And we could finally get that snorkeling trip in.
4) We'd heard it was really cool.
5) Did I mention we'd be going to PANAMA? An entirely different country? <- yeah, pretty syked about that aspect.
We figured that if we were already springing for the trip by taking a day off volunteering, we may as well go extreme luxury and book a tour there as well. The tour included transportation to and from the islands [provided we got to Puerto Viejo on our own], two-nights of accommodation [we got to choose our hostel], and a 9:00am-5:00pm snorkeling/dolphin watching/catamaran trip on Saturday. We researched how much it would cost us to book all that stuff ourselves, and figured we'd be paying roughly $30 more for using a tour company. An essentially hassle-free [and hopefully transport issue-free] weekend for $30 extra? We were sold.
[I've been trying to keep my weekly spending, including on the weekends, below $125. The tour package alone cost $140, so I knew I'd be going over budget. The week ended up costing me roughly $230- but it was so worth it. Plus I made up for it by not going anywhere the next weekend.]
Setting Off
Thursday after volunteering, Lindsay and I headed straight into San Jose to catch the 2:00pm bus to Puerto Viejo. We made it to San Jose [after being passed by the first bus headed there because in trying to flag it down, I accidentally put my thumb up- international hitchhiker symbol. The bus passed us with the driver rubbing his fingers together on one hand, demonstrating that we had to pay. Oops...] with plenty of time to spare, the bus showed up on time, and no major excitement occurred on the ride down. For once, our transportation [at least the first part of it] had worked out. Good omen?
We had decided to once again stay at Rocking J's for the night, thinking we could handle the crazy party hostel if it was only for a day. But our experience there this time around was completely different from when we'd stayed there five weeks ago [wow does time fly]. For one, we got in around 6:30pm- a much more reasonable hour than last time. When we arrived only a handful of people were milling around, no tents were set up on the green, and the bar's music was much more mellow. As Lindsay and I checked in, a man of about 50 [obviously of some importance there] came over and introduced himself as J- as in the "J" of Rocking J's. He told the clerk to give us some icees, and then invited Lindsay and I to create a mosaic or a mural [or both], and to come on a tour of the mysterious building out back called the Ark. We politely declined making art, but figured a tour of the Ark couldn't hurt. Boy were we in for a surprise.
J's Ark
I'm not even sure how I can go about describing the Ark in a way that makes sense. I'm going to preface the description by saying that the Ark is a rich mad man's response to the Mayan-predicted end of the world. Amazing but incredibly insane. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera on me [didn't realize I'd want it], so the inside exists only in my mind. But here goes an attempted description of the Ark in all its glory.
The Ark sits behind Rocking J's, in a large, grassy area. From the outside it resembles a three-tiered, mural-covered pyramid. Its foundation is made up of seven enormous shipping crates that have been welded together so that the Ark can float. The building has been worked on for the past year and a half, and still the top two levels are under construction. But even without being finished, it's clearly the work of a mad genius.
Like I said, the Ark has three different levels. The top two make up what will become J's house, and are made completely out of handcrafted, recycled wood and mirrors. His private space includes a secret artillery room [entered by pressing some button in the living room, and fully equipped with any video game-obsessed youth's weapons/accessories wildest dreams. I'm assuming much of it is illegal...], artwork from all over the world [personalized so that every piece includes a picture of his dog], and an "ice room"- an airtight location where everything needed for a bar will be made out of ice. The public bottom level [for the lucky souls who make it onto his boat before the floods come...] has four different spaces, each located inside one of the shipping containers and entered through a trap door at the top. One serves as a medical center [complete with specialized enough equipment to perform surgeries], one currently [!] contains $15,000 worth of dried/dehydrated food in enormous bulk bins, one is a dorm with 12-15 bunks, and the final space [and most bizarre] is a recording studio- complete with expensive instruments, tie-dyed and soundproofed walls, floor to ceiling mirrors, and state-of-the-art recording equipment. Like I warned you- it's absolutely insane.
The entire tour [which consisted of Lindsay and I, and a neighbor couple of J's], Lindsay and I would make incredulous eye contact and whisper either "I'm scared," [Lindsay] "This guy is crazy," [Lindsay again] or "Don't let him hear. We'll discuss this later," [me]. The tour lasted two hours, and by 9:00pm we were not only sufficiently freaked out, but starving as well. We thanked J for the... incredible... tour, and hurried out of the hostel to grab some dinner.
The night was insanely calm for Rocking J's [pretty much a normal hostel where people shut up and went to bed by 10:00pm]. The only excitement of the night occurred when Lindsay spotted a cockroach in her bag, and proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes alternating between shrieking and reaching into her bag to pull stuff out. I was quite helpful and held the flashlight over her backpack.... Plus said encouraging things. She eventually found and squashed the offending insect, and then we headed to our hammocks for a surprisingly decent night's sleep.
Border Crossing [My First on Foot!]
7:30am the shuttle pulled up to Rocking J's, and Lindsay and I crawled in. We were joined by two Australian surfer dudes [Kain with his three boards, while Zac only brought two], and a Swiss German guy, Kevin- while none of us talked all that much on the way to the border, we'd end up hanging out quite a bit over the weekend. It took about an hour to reach the border, and I think all of were surprised when we finally hit it. It didn't appear at all like you'd expect the division between countries to look [maybe this was just my American ignorance coming into play, but I was expecting barbed wire, policemen, and guard dogs.... Oh, and also a luggage-checking station]. The entire crossing process consisted of a small office on the Costa Rican side where you filled out an immigration form and got an exit stamp, a rickety ex-train bridge with planks missing that you walked over, and an office on the Panamanian side where you got an entry stamp. The Costa Rican side moved along fairly quickly, but the Panamanian side was experiencing... difficulties, and the line literally did not move for over an hour. Finally the window opened, though, we got our stamps, and were whisked off in another shuttle.
We arrived at the dock around 11:00am, and after waiting for a bit, were shown into the least ferry-like ferry I've ever seen. Compared to the huge boat we'd taken getting to Montezuma [three stories, with the bottom level large enough to transport multiple semi trucks], taking this "ferry" was essentially the equivalent of hopping in the back of an already-crowded pickup truck- except on water. Not only was the boat the size of a large van, but our trip included a large group of [intoxicated] local teenagers toting booze, who spent the ride shouting to each other and singing at the top of their lungs. That's not even taking into account the actual ride itself- a jolting, bumpy experience where I more than once feared we'd capsize [Lindsay and I later agreed the trip felt like you were falling down stairs on your butt]. I was quite relieved when we made it to Isla Colon- the main island- in one piece.
Bocas
When we arrived at midday, the islands' Independence Day celebration had already begun: parades, gunshots, fireworks, you name it. While it was tempting to stick around and watch, hunger and the need to be relieved of our backpacks won out, so the five of us decided to catch a water taxi to the island where our hostel, Aqua Lounge, was located- a $1, minute-long trip.
Before booking our tour, Lindsay and I had done a bit of research on places to stay. Aqua Lounge topped the list on most sites we checked out. It's essentially the Rocking J's of Bocas- a major party hostel, best known for its crazy nights, and THE water trampoline. There turned out not to be that many beds in the hostel, though, so our party was lucky and scored the last few spots when we turned up. Lindsay and I ended up in a dorm with a large group of Israeli guys, some French dudes, and a pair of 18-year-old surfers [Jordan from Canada, and Yotom from Israel]. We said hi to everyone as we put our stuff away, but left right away to find a place to eat. On our way out the back door we ran into Ben from Montezuma- we'd been in communication with him about our plans to go to Bocas and thought there was a 50/50 chance he'd show up. It was nice to see another familiar face; the three of us headed out to grab some lunch.
After lunch [a laborious process of finding a restaurant and waiting for food that took us until 3:00pm], we just hung out at the hostel, talked with the guys we'd ridden down with, swam, and relaxed. Around 6:00pm, Lindsay and I decided to head to the main island for some exploring/dinner, and managed to convince Ben, Kain, Zac, and Kevin to come along. Turned out to be a good thing we left for dinner so early- we wouldn't end up eating for another three hours anyway.
Celebration!
We manage to arrive on Isla Colon at the exact perfect moment to watch the Independence Day Parade. The streets were swarming with people- everyone from every island had come to congregate on Isla Colon for the evening. The parade was made up of at least five separate groups of baton twirlers/drum lines [each with their own distinctive outfits], and in between each group, random guys would be walking around spraying fire from a can [seriously], or lighting off fireworks in the middle of the crowd- one batch of pyromaniacs lit theirs off so close to us, I could feel the hot ash raining down. The atmosphere was incredibly festive, and the music was so invigorating I don't think any of us stopped bobbing to the beat the entire two and a half hours we stood there. Our group definitely stood out- some of the only foreigners, and consistently exclaiming about something in the parade. We were probably just as interesting a spectacle for the Panamanians as the performers....
Eventually it got late enough that we needed food- fast. We searched the main road for a cheap rotisserie chicken place that had been recommended to us, and after successfully annoying the workers [mainly thanks to Kain's "chicken dance" while attempting to convey his order...], we sat down to the best chicken I can remember having. Ever. The delicious French fries that accompanied the meal didn't hurt, either. Having satisfied our bellies, we wandered back up the street to catch the parade's finale, in the process simultaneously meeting another group of travelers and losing Kevin. After pacing the streets shouting "Kevin from Switzerland!" at the top of our lungs for 20 unsuccessful minutes, we gave up looking for him [<- terrible travel buddies, I know], and headed to a local bar/dance club. [Hey, Kevin eventually made his way there as well, so it all turned out okay. Stop with the guilting.]
Ended up seeing most of the others from Aqua Lounge at the bar, and we danced insanely for a few hours. Hot, sweaty, crowded- and so much fun. Eventually Lindsay and I headed back to the hostel, though, to try and get some sleep before our tour
Yes I Will Lounge on a Catamaran for Seven Hours
^That's exactly what Lindsay and I did from 9:00am-4:00pm on Saturday. With a bit of dolphin watching [I saw one's back] and snorkeling [for, like, 20 minutes] thrown in. But the day was spent mostly sunbathing [and burning] on a catamaran. We lucked out with the weather- apparently it was the first gloriously sunny day in over a week. Success!
Saturday evening Lindsay and I showered and headed into town for an early dinner. We had okay sushi, but really delicious martinis, so overall dinner was good ;) Then we headed back to Aqua Lounge because that's where the big party was going to be. Plus it was Ladies' Night, which in Latin America means free drinks for girls for an hour. I ended up heading back to Isla Colon for about an hour with Jordan and Yotom- searching for an Internet cafe for Yotom- and we made it back to the hostel at the very end of Ladies' Night [literally, we arrived at 10:33pm, when free drinks were supposed to end at 10:30pm]. But somehow I managed to squeeze in getting three free drinks- two of which I gave to the guys, no worries Mom.
Saturday night was essentially a repeat of Friday- but much more fun, for some reason. Lots of dancing, meeting people, good music, etc. The bar closed at 3:00am and all non-guests were kicked out, but the rest of us staying at the hostel continued to hang out. I ended up crawling into bed around 5:00am, while Lindsay didn't come into the dorm until 6:20am- 20 minutes before we had to wake up to catch our ferry back to Costa Rica.... We both were feeling really great when the alarm went off at 6:45am.
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig
Ferry to dock, shuttle to border, second shuttle to Puerto Viejo, just missed early bus to San Jose, waited for five hours until 4:00pm for bus to the capital, waited at sketchy station until 10:00pm for bus back to Atenas. Was asleep before head hit the pillow, and waking up Monday was brutal.
I feel like our trip to Bocas del Toro was my favorite because it had all the aspects of what traveling should be like. Parades, fireworks, music, dancing, delicious & cheap food, fun people to group up with, gorgeous scenery, late nights, and a bit of relaxation, just for kicks. In one word: amazing.
And did I mention we went to PANAMA???
xoxo, Cleome
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Weekend Trip #5: Monteverde
This trip occurred the weekend of Friday, November 6- Sunday, November 8. We only were out of town through Saturday, though.
Monteverde
Monteverde is best known for its famed cloud forest. The town itself is actually called Santa Elena, but they're essentially two names for the same place. Lindsay and I decided to go to Monteverde in order to accomplish a specific goal: zip line! We'd heard from multiple other travelers that the zip lining course there was gorgeous and really fun. While Lindsay had zip lined her first weekend here [the one trip she took without me], her experience was lackluster, so I managed to convince her it'd be fun to try again; I, on the other hand, had never been.
We figured this weekend would be a good one to hit Monteverde, because our services as volunteers were required in Atenas Saturday afternoon, so we could only stay over some place for one night [we'd promised the volunteer coordinator we'd help set up for a major dance recital she was putting on through the community center]. Since we'd booked a 7:30am tour for Saturday morning, we felt confident we could both fit in zip lining and helping with the recital.... Yeah, to assume things makes an ass out of u and me.
Let the Chaos Commence
By this point, it's a given that our carefully researched transportation information would fail us, so Lindsay and I barely glanced at the route from Palmares [where we'd be starting from right after work] to Monteverde. All we saw was that a direct bus existed from San Ramon, so figured we'd just head into the town and go from there.
We debated about stopping for lunch at a small restaurant, or /soda/, that we always pass on our walk to the Hogarcito, but decided we could wait until we got into San Ramon- a wise decision we'd realize later. We made it to the bus station in San Ramon around noon, and ambled over to the dollar store where our "informer" works [<- a nice lady who's helped us out in terms of bus schedules at least three separate times. We've come to feel so thankful for her, we legit discussed bringing her a flower that day. Maybe it was better that we forgot to...]. But when I asked her about the direct bus to Monteverde, she looked very confused and shook her head. No, there was no direct bus to Monteverde. You had to catch a bus to Puntarenas first, and then find one to the cloud forest. Lindsay and I thanked her, and made our way to the other bus station to catch the 2.5 hour bus ride to Puntarenas. Figures it wouldn't be as easy as a "direct bus."
We took the 12:35pm [which showed up closer to 1:00pm] to Puntarenas, getting in around 3:00pm. This is where our decision not to grab lunch in Palmares proved itself to be a life-saver: there were no more buses from Puntarenas to Monteverde on Friday. What? How does saving 20 minutes by not having lunch make a lack of buses any better? Here's how: while there was no bus to Monteverde itself, there was a bus leaving at 3:15pm to Liberia, and we were assured that the driver could drop us off at the entrance to Monteverde- whatever that meant. Had we sat down and gotten a real lunch, we would've had to spend the night in Puntarenas. So yay for not eating!
Another traveler also happened to be in our exact situation [a guy who's social skills had severely regressed thanks to just coming from 8 weeks of volunteering in the jungle...], so the three of us boarded the bus to Liberia. An hour into the ride, the bus pulled over beside a gas station, and we were informed this was the entrance to Monteverde. Huh? Extremely confused, we exited the bus and were immediately enshrouded in the dust cloud the bus left behind. We walked over to the store inside the gas station and asked the lady behind the counter how to get from there to Monteverde. She assured us a bus would arrive at 5:15pm, and we'd just have to flag it down. That gave us an hour to wait at the gas station, which we passed by becoming friends with the clerk [a motherly Nicaraguan named Maritza], and encountering yet another backpacker trying to get to Monteverde- Nonny, a volunteer in Nicaragua who was in Costa Rica to renew her visa.
So darkness begins to fall, 5:15pm comes and goes, and we've yet to catch a bus to Monteverde. We're sure we didn't miss it because a few locals are also waiting by the gas station, and just as Lindsay's on the verge of a panic attack- an empty tourism van drives by, backs up, and the guy inside says he'll take us to Monteverde for $4 each. We're so relieved to have a ride there that we just nod and climb in- turns out we payed $2 less than if we'd caught the public bus, anyway. It turned out to be a good thing we were in a small van, since the road was quite pockmarked by potholes, the street was scarily narrow, and [most noteworthy] the weather was terrible. By terrible I mean it was sleeting and windy and cold. But for Costa Rica, where even in the rainy season there's only precipitation a few times a week for a couple hours, the cold and the wind felt extremely foreign. [Lindsay later remarked it was almost refreshing to experience something other than heat and sun. Not sure if I agree, but I know what she means.]
We were dropped off in the center of town around 7:00pm, and said goodbye to Weirdo and Nonny [though we'd convinced Nonny to sign up for the same zip line tour as us, so we planned on seeing her again], as we'd all booked different hostels. Our hostel turned out to be small and sort of dumpy, but the wifi worked, an adorable fluffball of a dog lived there, and the guy who ran the place was totally awesome and into having a good time [he offered us shots even before we'd checked in...]. Plus, we'd find out later that the free breakfast was an amazing smorgasbord of food.
While grabbing dinner at a nearby restaurant [having braved the wind/rain to get there], Lindsay and I developed our new favorite time-passing game to play [trying to name all 50 states, and then their correct capitals. You may scoff now, but I dare you to try. We've tried it on other Americans, and most people can only make it to the low 40's before giving up], and then raced back to the hostel. We were content to just relax, seeing as we had to be up early tomorrow, but not having some sort of fun on a weekend in a hostel is pretty much impossible. The five other guests plus the host and Lindsay and I ended up playing some card games, and then Alonso [the person in charge of the hostel] suggested we go out to a bar in town. It wasn't an extremely appealing offer, but Lindsay and I figured we'd be stuck videotaping a little kids' dance recital the next night, so we might as well.
The bar we went to was sort of a weird situation because 1) you had to pay to get in [the first time I've come across that in Costa Rica- luckily, Alonso was nice enough to pay for Lindsay and I], and 2) there was a live band playing Latin music, but barely anyone was dancing, Tico or not. Luckily, Lindsay and I always bring the party ;). But actually. After hanging off to the side for a bit, we were both invited by Ticos to go dance, and after that I never left the dance floor- just swapped one partner for another. Eventually everyone had had enough of dancing, though, so we snuck downstairs for a quick game of [terrible] pool, and then headed back to the hostel and hit the hay.
Into the Jungle...
Saturday morning Lindsay and I awoke to our alarm blaring at 6:15am. We were getting picked up at 7:00am for our tour, so we wanted to give ourselves enough tine to wake up. Unfortunately, the day didn't look promising. Especially not for zip lining. We'd been hoping that the wind and rain would've died down overnight, but no such luck- it was just as nasty and wet and gray as when we'd arrived. After much debating about whether zip lining in these conditions would be worth it [we already knew it was going to be miserable, but the question was whether the tour would be cool enough to outweigh the misery or not], we decide to just go for it- we had come all this way to zip line, after all.
We were picked up by one if our guides, grabbed Nonny at her hostel, and headed out to the forest. After being suited up in harnesses, gloves, and helmets, we signed our waivers and were off! The two guides showed the three of us [the only people on our tour] to a huge Tarzan swing first, which swung you through a clearing out over the tree tops- extremely exhilarating. Then we began the actual zip lining. There were 15 cables we zipped on, as well as a huge fig tree we descended and then climbed up through. Zip lining was fun, and even in the not-so-great weather, the views were amazing. However, besides the first and last few cables [one of which the wind was so strong it stopped me 15 feet from the ending platform, and I had to pull myself the rest of the way], zip lining itself wasn't all that exciting. I guess I was just expecting something a bit more adrenaline-inducing. We had a good time, though. And luckily the weather eased up throughout our time in the tree tops, until eventually we could see bits of blue sky and the rain had pretty much stopped. The tour took about two hours, and afterwards we thanked our guides, stopped by the bus station to buy tickets to San Jose on the 2:00pm bus, and headed back to the hostel.
...And Out to the Town
We spent the time between the tour and catching our bus chowing down on our hostel's free breakfast [bananas, chocolate cereal, peanut butter, bread, and coffee- what more could you ask for?], visiting the local ice cream shop, and checking out a souvenir store. Eventually we said goodbye to Alonso and Nonny, and walked over to catch our bus. The ride took four hours to get to the highway leading to San Jose. Remember, we were supposed to be back around 5:00pm to help set up and then attend this dance recital. We figured we probably wouldn't make it in time to set up, but we could definitely be there to help clean up around 9:00pm, no problem, right? Not quite....
We would've made it, had it not been for a bridge that was down. Thanks to being unable to continue on its normal route, our bus turned off the road we were familiar with [and where our sketchy highway stop is located] and instead headed to downtown San Jose. As soon as we realized where we were headed, we knew we were screwed. Going into San Jose was an hour more bus ride in itself, not to mention the amount of time we'd have to wait at the bus station to then catch another hour-long bus back to Atenas. Grrr. We got into the capital around 7:00pm, and [thanks to being escorted by a kind, young, paramedic-to-be] made it to our bus station only to learn that we had an hour and a half to wait before the next bus to Atenas. We sat in the creepy station trying not to fall asleep [by trying to name the state capitals, actually], and finally hopped on the 8:30pm bus home. Needless to say, we arrived well after the dance recital ended.... We're sorry, Tina!
A Day in Atenas
Sunday, November 8th was the only entire weekend day Lindsay and I spent together in town. It was actually quite relaxing to wake up and not have to do... anything. No volunteering, no bus rides :to miss:, no nothing. We spent out free day just chilling in the morning, venturing out for iced coffee (her) and scalding hot coffee (me), and then she accompanied me to the grocery store [ohmygodilovethoseplaces] so I could buy ingredients for the chicken & wild rice soup I was making. <- I'd brought wild rice down as a present for my host family, but seeing as they didn't even know it existed, I offered to make them a meal with it.
The soup took me four hours to make. I attribute this to 1) I hadn't cooked in over two months, 2) I'd never actually made the soup before, and 3) only one burner worked on the stove. But by 7:00pm there was piping hot soup ready, and while it didn't look or taste anything like what my mom makes at home [oh the joys of eyeballing measurements and improvising ingredients], it was still deemed "rico" by my host family, so I guess it was successful. Or they just were kind enough not to hurt my feelings....
Yep, the weekend of zip lining and soup. Pura vida.
xoxo, Cleome
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