1. A Mexican, and Indian, and an American walk into a bar. It sounds like the start of a bad joke but is instead the beginning of a worse vacation...
2. On several occasions my friends have commented on my propensity for disaster in all travel undertakings. And although many admit that I generally escape unscathed, some have decided to never travel with me again....
Although both seem overly dramatic they are based in truth (ok it was a party not a bar) and my notes from the trip place events squarely into three categories: the good, the bad, and the purely ridiculous.
It is important to note that each day, no matter how ridiculous, had at least one highlight. And I should start with my travel companions: two lovely ladies and classmates L the Mexican and A the Indian. Their company was invaluable and positive, our travel quirks were well balanced, and although towards the end of the trip we made a pact not to talk to each other our first week back...I think our friendship will survive.
Day 1! We arrived in San Jose bright and shiny at 1AM and went directly to bed. L and I had to share a bed which was no easy task. Although I was forewarned about her propensity to toss and turn (and I of course shared that I sometimes cuddle others) the scope of her spreadability was incredible. At some point during each night I woke up to find her taking over 3/4 of the bed. The other seven gazillion times I woke up were due to the noise of cars rushing past...a sound akin to a freight train.
That morning we set out to explore the city. The Rough Guide writes that Ticos who live outside of San Jose describe it as, "a maelstrom of stress junkies, rampant crime, and other urban horrors." They go on to cite "pothole-scarred streets and car dealership architecture," deep open drains, and kamikaze drivers. Determined to make the best of it we took cheesy photos of ourselves at all the parks and markets and made a valiant effort to check out the National Library, the National Museum, and the Gold Museum which were all closed without explanation. We did pee at the swanky Gran Hotel Costa Rica where JFK once stayed. At night we headed to San Pedro to eat hummus and drink with obnoxiously young university students. Someone actually called me senora.
Day 2! The next morning A and I woke up at 6AM to head to Poas Volcano...except we accidentally woke up at 5. I'm not entirely sure what the time difference is between the East Coast and Costa Rica and I didn't bring a watch or cell phone in an effort to enter a state of zen timelessness (which transitioned pretty quickly into stress and asking every five minutes, "What time is it?") but this was a bit extreme. Anyhoo we were on time for our bus! Once inside the Park, A and I walked to the crater where we looked over the wide open expanse....of mist. You could see nothing of the crater, the surrounding mountains, or even the sky. Nothing. We took a picture anyway because I'm thinking of starting a "Lenni in the mist" photo album. (If you'll remember, my experience at Macchu Picchu was similar.)
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| Mist! |
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| What we could have seen |
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| More mist! |
Post-mist we hiked around complaining about how our old knees hurt and avoiding the green squirrels and then checked out the tiny volcano museum, gift shop, and tiny art gallery before realizing that we had two additional hours to kill before the bus headed back to San Jose. We spent this time passing back and forth a three-month old copy of The Economist. Getting back to the city we checked out a few churches before heading back to the hotel to meet a friend (P the Bolivian) for dinner.
Dinner was actually pretty sweet. The food was delicious, the atmosphere local and although our ordering was like a scene out of When Harry Met Sally the Vegetarian with simultaneous translation the staff was very accommodating. Chelles is panelled entirely in a rich mahogany and has an old drug store/soda shop feel to it. A San Jose institution, the restaurant's atmosphere afforded us an unparalleled opportunity to malign the incredibly loud American tourist at the next table. Usually open 24/7, even Chelles closed early for New Years Eve and we moved on making plans with P to meet up later for drinks because A and I needed a rest and L needed to finish work on her grad school application.
I wish I could say we finished strong and that our New Years Eve in the tropical nation was one for the books but unfortunately we are surprisingly lame. On our hike A had mentioned that one of our young professors had an open Facebook page that had several shirtless photos so we perused those before watching the ball drop on tv. Keeping in mind the time zone issue, we may have accidentally fallen asleep at 11PM Tico time.
Photos to come!
Next up: dirty hippies and compost toilets.
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