Puerto Viejo, Again

Waking today, Isaiah and I got the fuck out of “Rockin’ Jay’s.” Whilst walking down the road, I hear “Hey Seamus!” It was Nate, one of the cool Canadian guys I had met in Tamarindo. It was great to see them, and Isaiah and I sat down and had breakfast with them. If there could only be one striking difference between the States and Costa Rica, it would be the food service. It’s impossible to get a coffee before your breakfast, when you order it, you get what you didn’t order, and most places are painstakingly slow.

At this restaurant, the waitress was alone, with one guy in the kitchen, and it was full. She couldn’t get her head straight, and it just might have been due to Puerto Viejo’s legacy of pot smokingdom. Yes, that’s a new word. When asked for a café, she would reply “si” but not bring you a coffee. I asked her for a “mixto de jugo,” a mixture of juices, and she brought me four apple juices and a moment later realized her mistake and exclaimed “gratis.” Nate, a good shit, got a free plate of breakfast out of one of her blunders. He and John Forge, a good fisherman, split it and were both stoked on the casado. We were served a fried egg, a rice and bean mixture we’ve come to know and love, and a slice of cheese. When it takes twenty minutes to make that, you appreciate it twice as much.

After breakfast, we walked down to a beach with larger waves to the south. Our aim was to bodysurf, but the waves were far too choppy to get out. There were eight flags marking severe undertow and riptides at the beach, seven of which were red, and only a sole green flag. The lifeguards would actually blow their whistles when we would be carried too far over by the current. It was fun, and the water was warm, so we stayed in there and were beaten by the waves for a couple of hours. Once thoroughly beaten, we walked back to town and ate lunch. We found a soda with Caribbean style chicken, which would become our staple soda for the remainder of our time in Viejo.

We ended up staying in the same hostel they were staying at, because of the unappealing aspects of “Rockin’ Jay’s,” and it turned out to be a pretty decent place! The rooms were clean, although crab-infested, and there were some cool people staying there. They had three guitars, and I played for some of the people at the hostel for a couple hours. We shotgunned some beers, and went out to Johnny’s for the first time.
Johnny’s is a good time, but gets a little crazy. Considering this was the night before “Ano Nuevo,” we thought people would be taking it a bit easy. They weren’t, and we joined in. The bar inside was loud, and Isaiah and I danced with the German and Czech girls. It was a good time, and we ended up by the bonfire outside watching these tourist-appeasing fire-dancers around the bonfire outside of Johnny’s. I got pretty wasted, and we went and fell asleep in our new rooms.

Rockin’ again,

Seamus

Smoke Em’ if You’ve Got Em’

Today, Sam and I chilled at the beach and smoked the rest of my pot. It was a nice interruption from shotgunning beers, plural, and I caught some sleep and watched some surfers slice some big waves. We saw the most impressive swarms of leaf-cutter ants, even better than on those nature special shows, and a couple of sloths. One sloth scratched what looked like its ass for a good ten minutes, and we watched in awe of its laziness and ability to do so. What a life!
This night also ended up at Johnny’s Place, and was redundant as ever. I think I even went home a bit early, played a little guitar, and smoked pot with the owner of the hostel. He was all fucked up on some pain killers, and had to hit it early. That was my queue to pass out and save it up for the next day.

Takin’ it easy,

Seamus

Trouble in Paradise

So my laptop got wet, and the keyboard doesn't work anymore. This is the reason why I haven't been updating my blog, and will probably just wait until I'm home, or I get a new keyboard, to finish the blog. I will post a final entry when I'm through, and update everything fully with pictures and lovely writings by your's truly.

Meet you there,

Seamus

Puerto Viejo

Today I had to get out of San Jose and into Puerto Viejo. I somehow found my way to the Terminal de Caribe with the help of two local girls, and got on a bus. Two minutes after I found my seat, I saw Valerie and Petra get on. Apparently, their seats were right next to mine and we inadvertently rode to Puerto Viejo together. It was an unexpected surprise, and I was glad to have some company. Soon after, a pretty cool guy, Isaiah, got on the bus and we all hit it off immediately. A girl, whom I thought was a Tica, helped us book the entire back row of seats. We all talked, shared all the bags of Nacho Cheese chips and peanuts and raisins that I had bought before the ride. The girl who I thought was a Tica turned out to be from somewhere in Western Europe, and I tried to teach her English in turn for her teaching me Spanish. Neither worked very well, but I got a few good words out of it and hope that she did too. She spoke German and Spanish fluently, which I thought was a pretty weird combination. The bus was delayed for two hours because of a car crash, and the entire route was laden with traffic. It was a pretty horrible experience, which was matched by our first night in Puerto Viejo.

We went to a shitty hostel, called “Rockin’ Jay’s,” and it was far from Rocking. The tent area that we had to walk through to get to our room smelled like piss, every single toilet was backed up, and the room just sucked for $15 each a night. We went out to a local bar, which was kind of boring, and then crashed out. I stayed there with Isaiah, and we got the fuck out of there the next morning.

Finding all the good ones,

Seamus

San Jose: Round Two

Did I mention I hate San Jose? I do. I only came here to buy a guitar, but that didn’t happen on account of shitty Yamahas that didn’t quite match my price range for such a piece of shit. I did have a nice stay at hostel Pangaea, where I met my friend John again. The hostel was pretty cool; it had free internet, a free ten minute phone call, and no bugs! I met a couple people there, and we went out to a place called “El Pueblo” for drinks. It was pretty much a group of two bars, two restaurants, and one strip club, and we ate and drank at one of the restaurants to appease all of our tastes. It was a good, but relatively bland, time and the rest of the night was uneventful. I did happen to have the most awesome churro ever on my search for a guitar, though. It had caramel in the middle and was oh so crunchy. I almost shit my pants, but instead decided to leave for Puerto Viejo in the morning.

Getting out of Dodge,

Seamus

La Fortuna Again

Today I woke up in La Fortuna, and met the roommates I had woken up the night before. They were a couple of European girls, Valerie and Petra, from Germany and the Czech Republic, respectively. They were really cool, and we went on a hike to see the La Fortuna Catarata. We walked about three miles to get there, and had to pay about seven dollars to enter. We were rewarded with a hike down 400 steps, and a nice, powerful waterfall.

The waterfall was said to be 75 meters tall, but in actuality it seemed to be about 25. It was still really cool, and the combined rush of wind and sound of water really immersed you in the experience. The only bad part was that we had to climb back up the 400 slippery steps, but it was actually surprisingly easy. We then met a Colombian merchant, who made us coffee and talked for a while. I had to leave them to catch a bus to San Jose, and made my way down the mountain.

Fortunately, I was picked up by a local who gave me a ride halfway down the hill. I gave him 500 colones, and walked in search of a taxi. The taxi I found only cost 200 colones, about 40 cents, and he brought me back to Gringo Pete’s. I made the bus in time to get a carton of milk to eat my granola bar with, and then I was off to San Jose.

Mmm mmm goodness,

Seamus

La Fortuna

To get to La Fortuna, you have to take what’s called the “Jeep-Boat-Jeep.” It’s exactly what it sounds like, but the boat part of the ride is definitely the best. We rode across the second largest lake in Costa Rica, which is man-made, and there were beautiful views in all directions. We traveled close to nice, green islands, near to the surrounding shores, and finally came upon a dirty, man-made dam. We had to hike up a small hillside to get to the other “jeep,” which wasn’t mentioned in the brochure, and then we were driven to Centro La Fortuna.

On the second “jeep,” I met a fellow traveler who directed me to a hostel called Gringo Pete’s. The place wasn’t too shabby, and was only $3.50 a night. This was a steal compared to what I had been paying. I did find a giant spider while I was taking a piss, but that’s acceptable for $3.50 a night. There were also some cool birds around, and bats at night. It was a cool place to view wildlife and enjoy the city, but was nothing compared to the main site in La Fortuna; Vulcan Arenal!

Vulcan Arenal is, supposedly, the second most active volcano in the world. Although it doesn’t appear so by day, the activity is really brought out by the night. It wasn’t a lava flow, but bright red rocks flew down and exploded on the side of the mountain all night long. The rocks were accompanied by loud explosions, which seemed to trigger the flying rocks. I was supposed to go on a hike with a couple and their girlfriend who I met, but missed my ride and had to go with the next group. On that tour, I met a couple of guys and we hung out at the hot springs afterwards.

The hot springs were awesome. There were a couple of swim-up bars which served expensive, watered-down drinks, but at least you could get a drink in a hot spring. The place was all man-made, but had water originating from underground springs so it wasn’t all bad. One pool had a killer view of the volcano, and I had a couple of Pina Coladas and watched the rocks fly. A note to all visitors: don’t stand in the 150*F pool. It will melt your legs off, and it is a painful experience. I was drunk, and went in to my knees. It hurt even worse when I jumped out, for whatever reason, and I decided not to go in water hotter than a hot tub ever again.

We went and had a shitty filet mignon for dinner, and I woke up the owner of the hostel smoking pot with some guys out front. I then woke up everyone in my dorm room, and passed out three seconds later.

Dodging molten rocks now,

Seamus