Little City Nights

This part of my story takes place on the night of my trip into the forest. It starts when I return, and my need for food which led me out of my room and into town.

I saw Cesar standing in front of a restaurant, so I gave him a “Que Paso,” and stood and talked for a bit. He was talking to the host of the restaurant, a girl from Santa Cruz, CA, named Mariko, who told me that their food was better and cheaper than the place I was considering. I took her advice, and she led me upstairs to the dining floor. The place is built around a tree, so it feels like you’re eating in a tree fort. I saw a girl, Molly, walk up the stairs, and she spoke English to one of the waiters. I said hi and asked her where she was from, and she came and shared my table with me. She turned out to be really cool; she’s from San Diego and has been living and working down here since September. I found out she worked there too, and we just shot the shit and brought some beers up from El Super Mercado. After a few beers and my dinner, we moved inside and I found a guitar to play. I was pretty much able to play guitar for the restaurant, although I don’t know who, besides Molly and Cesar, was actually listening. Good times were had, and then Molly’s boyfriend, Graven, showed up and invited us out to hot springs. I let out a “Fuck yeah,” and we were off. I actually went with Molly, Graven, Mariko, and her boyfriend Mani (I think that’s his name). They were all really cool people, but Graven drove like a madman and I almost got carsick on the way down.

It was way worse than the shuttle I took to Monteverde. He was going about 35 or 40mph down this dirt road that is normally taken at 15mph. The road was a horrible dirt road, and we were sliding all over the place. I told everyone they should probably put their seatbelts on, but they scoffed and ignored my warning. I trusted that Graven wouldn’t crash, because he was looking after his own ass too, but it never hurts to wear a seatbelt! After about half an hour, we arrived at the hot springs.

They were pretty much pools with volcanic water in them. The one we were in was about 80 degrees or so, and the adjacent one was empty. There were two other smaller pools, which were too hot to go in. We swam around, shot the shit, had some beers, and stargazed until 3:30 in the morning when we drove back.

The ride back was slightly less insane, until Graven lost control of the car and spun a 180 on the one and a half lane road. It was a little scary, because there was a cliff to one side. I don’t know how we stayed on the road, but we did, and survived. I made my point about the seatbelts again, and again it was unheeded. The rest of the trip was safe, though, and I think everyone got home alright, except me.

Right after they were out of sight, I realized that I had lost the keys to my room. Now, it being 4 am, there was no one in the office to assist me in any way. I cursed and spat until I devised a plan to get in to the room. I found a ladder, and pulled off some slats of glass from the Venetian blinds. Now, this was right above a plate-glass window, which I was sure would shatter under my weight once I straddled it. Halfway through the window, I was wondering where I’d land when I got in. I was dangling about eight feet in the air with a ladder and rocks on one side, and a tile floor on the other. I pushed off of the wall and fell into the room, aiming for the bed. I actually landed on the bed unscathed, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was then that I decided I would put the blinds and ladder back, and get my sandalos. Upon turning on the light, I realized that there was no doorknob; there was only a keyhole! I needed the key to get into or out of my room! Climbing back out would have been sketchy and stupid, so I succumbed to being a prisoner in my own room. I smoked a hit of weed to vent my frustration and went to sleep.

Upon waking, I realized that no one had come and seen the ladder up against the window, or the blinds taken apart. I packed up my stuff, waiting for someone to notice the break-in, and brushed my teeth. I then started pounding on the door and calling for the front desk lady. She finally came down and I told her that I lost my key. When asked whether or not she had seen the ladder and all that, she replied she had. I asked her why she didn’t check on the room, and she just shrugged her shoulders and claimed ignorance. I don’t know why on earth you wouldn’t investigate something like that, but she might be able to tell me something about it. All in all, it was a weird experience and I got out of there and went straight to La Fortuna.

Keepin’ it real, real crazy,

Seamus

Santa Elena

Today was Christmas day, and I took a hike through Parque Santa Elena. Santa Elena is the less touristy reserve, and I decided to go there for that reason. I glanced at a map and decided to hike the longest trail there which was Cana Negra at 4.5k. It was a real rainforest; lush, tranquil, and expansive. The thick rolling fog causes the trees to become so saturated they showered down droplets of water, mimicking a real rainstorm.

The trees themselves were practically small ecosystems. There were about ten to fifteen different types of plants growing on most of the big trees, and it looked like the perfect home for a sloth or squirrel monkey. I saw a couple of birds, which were small, and one Millipede, which was rather large and colorful.

I think all of the animals were sleeping, or they heard me coming and hid from el gringo. After my hike, I decided to go to the mariposa gardens.

I imagined swarms of mariposas (butterflies), and what great pictures I would be able to take. When we got inside, we didn’t see swarms, but it was really interesting to see the different kinds fluttering about. My one complaint was that it was difficult to capture the moving butterflies. It takes my camera a second or so to focus and snap the picture, and the butterfly would often be gone. I did manage to catch a few mid-flight, and caught some nice pictures of cocoons and flowers. Some of the cocoons looked like gold nuggets, and other like objects of the forest. Most cocoons looked like some sort of dead leaf or piece of a tree, and others like pieces of poisonous fruit. It was interesting to see the defense mechanisms that the butterfly employs to save itself. Most cocoons were displayed in a sort of kiosk, where they hang them to hatch, but others could be found on one of the many plants. The whole terrarium was filled with plants, as each species of butterfly has its own plant on which it lays its eggs. The plants were beautiful, and I took some really nice close-ups of flowers. It was a really relaxing and informative experience, even though the humidity was very high inside the terrarium.

Santa Elena was pretty awesome, and I enjoyed being surrounded by nature in this beautiful place. It was a bit dank, and a I was pretty tired after the hike, but my fond memories far outweigh the bad ones.

Conquering the Forest,

Seamus

Hasta Luego, Tamarindo

Today I said my goodbyes and bid farewell to Playa Tamarindo. I awoke early, paranoid that I would miss my bus, but it turned out to be for the better as I was able to say goodbye to some friends. Billy, bless his heart, will be back in the US before I return to Guanacaste. The trio of Canadians will have moved on, but our paths might cross again. The Californian is making tentative plans to be in Puerto Viejo for New Years, and I’d love to hang out with him there, because we’d have some wild times. I jammed out on the guitar for a bit with the crew, and wrote part of a song that I’m working on. It’s called “Mop Girl,” and is set to the tune of “Rich Girl” by Hall and Oats. It ended up being pretty fucking funny, and was about the hot custodian girl who mopped the floors every day. I have video, and will show it. Whilst in the bathroom with two other Canadians, each of us occupying a stall, the one in the stall two over from me started making a commotion, and was exclaiming that he had plugged the toilet. He kept saying “The water came up so fast.” He then tried to lift off the back piece, which he immediately dropped and broke, and upon pulling up the float to stop the water, he ripped it off. It was something out of Tommy Boy for sure. I took one look in that toilet, and ran out screaming for the Mop Girl. I felt so bad that she had to clean it up, but felt even worse that it took the Canadian guy half an hour to look up how to say “I’m really sorry.” They were cool guys, and good times, so it was sad to leave everyone. I had to, though, and was soon on the craziest shuttle bus ride I have ever taken.

I was taking the bus from Tamarindo to Monteverde, and the guy was trying to run the van we were in as fast as possible. These things are 15 or so seaters, and the guy was trying to drive it like a sports car. It was amazing to me that he was doing this, but what was more amazing was the guy behind me who seemingly wanted him to go faster. I think he was on his way to Jaco, but with the crap swell, I have no idea why he’d be in such a rush. That ride lasted an hour and a half or so, and then I had to change buses. The next bus was a definite downgrade. I had to go up miles and kilometers of bumpy ass dirt road in this thing. The view was spectacular, and I snapped a few photos. Once up in Santa Elena, the town outside Monteverde, I found a cool place to stay for $15 a night. It has its own bathroom, hot shower, spider, and a decent bed. I should have snapped a picture of the spider, but I just got it the fuck out of my room, as it was the more poisonous looking kind. I wrote a couple things, got something to eat, and headed out to the local bar to watch some live music. I met a local named Cesar, and we chilled and had a couple beers. He didn’t speak English very well, and I don’t speak Spanish very well, but we managed to communicate and shoot the shit. I went home at about 11:30 and passed out.

In the land of the green,

Seamus

Jukebox Hero

Today was a very chilled out and relaxed day. I hung out in front of the hostel with Billy and the Canadians for a few hours, and didn’t do much else. I must have drunk a thousand smoothies at the local smoothie stand. They are so good, and they’ll combine whatever fruits you want with milk, water, ice cream, or even coffee. What a great place!

I went body-surfing, and had a pretty good time. The warm water is so relaxing, and I just wanted to float around forever. At times I wished there were no waves at all, just so I could be “muoy tranquilo,” but the ocean makes up its own mind. I got out after about an hour, and took a show-show at the hostel.

When I came out, someone mentioned a rodeo, at which they allow you to get in the ring with the bull. I was all about it, and we decided to get some beers, eat some food, and head out. After two fish tacos and two beers a piece, we hailed a taxi to take us to the rodeo. We found out that the one we wanted to go to was over, and that the other two were about an hour, and 50 bucks, away. We decided to hang out at the hostel and then go to a local bar instead.

At the hostel, I picked up the guitar and started shotgunning beers. I must have played for two hours, and exhausted at least half of what I know. It seemed like every time someone wanted to hear something, I could play it for them. It was really fun, and there were about ten people crowded around listening to me play. A good time was had by all.

We went out to Babylon, because that’s the place for Saturday night, and got a few drinks. Did I mention cocaine was the prevalent drug in this town? You can’t even take a piss in the trough without someone offering you a line off their cock. It’s ridiculous, I mean, they should at least offer it in a baggy or something for Christ’s sake! I danced with our group for a couple hours, until I looked around and realized everyone was gone! I then went back to the hostel and to bed, where I had a short, but good rest.

Cocaine’s a hell of a drug,

Seamus

Losing It

I’ve been slowly losing track of time. I feel like I wrote yesterday, but it has actually been three days! I’ll give you a recap, but it’s only going to be as good as my memory.

We left Playa Avallana and our cool little hostela on the 22^nd. I wasn’t sad to go, but it was a cool place and I could have stayed there for a couple more days. Once back in Tamarindo, we checked back in to our previous hostel and were surprised that it was quite empty. I proceeded to make friends with the people who were outside, so I would have a group to go party with at the Monkey Bar that night. There were some pretty cool Canadian guys, which is the standard around here. Everyone, except me, is Canadian in one way or another. I was also happy to find my buddy Billy, who reminds me of Ian McCauley to a t. We shot the shit, and I convinced everyone that we simply must go out and get completely trashed.

I made a fool of myself, as always, and everyone had some good laughs at my expense. I believe they thought I was quite charming, but I don’t want to know what they’re saying right now! The bar was mostly guys, and played strictly electronic music after the band stopped. The bands down here are awesome; it sounds like you’re listening to a radio! I wish some of the venues in SF had sound this good, because I am often unimpressed by the blaring wall of noise that comes out of places like Annie’s and, less often, the Elbo Room. We partied into the night, probably because the local drug of choice is cocaine.

The cocaine is really prevalent in this town. It is commonly sold for ten dollars a gram, and is only cut with better cocaine. It’s funny to be in a place where the weed goes for 30 dollars a gram (the good stuff) and the cocaine for 10 (it’s all really good, but really bad). Needless to say, that’s probably the main contributor to the drug problem, and people who use those kinds of drugs often are usually shady characters. It seems that crimes against locals are more prevalent than crimes against tourists, as the economy for many areas relies heavily on tourism, and they don’t want the reputation of, let’s say, Colombia.

We finished the night up playing some guitar at the hostela, and then I crashed out and had a nice, deep, sleep.

Holdin’ it down in Costa Rica,

Seamus

I Had a Dream

Last night, I had a crazy, and cool, dream. I know some of you will think the dream was cheesy, but I also know there are some who will truly appreciate it.

The dream started with a sense of urgency, like something bad was going to happen. I then realized that the Predator, from the movies, had grabbed my sister and was going to have his was with her. I knew that I was the only one who could save her, so I set off to do so.

I was walking through the hills of Pacifica, which weren’t quite right as it was a dream. There were people around, but no one could help me as I was going too deep into Predator territory. I then came face to face with the beast, and after a little battle, I stabbed him through the neck with a pointy stick I had found. I saved my sister, who promptly disappeared from the dream, and was able to don the Predator’s equipment and suit. Now, because my dream took place in California, I would expect that I would go all commando on it, and as the Predator shoot lasers at illegal immigrants before tangling with the Governator. That didn’t happen, but I was able to turn invisible, sneak up on the other people I was with (who also had Predator suits all of a sudden), and do some gnarly flips and stuff. We ended up going to a restaurant that had to have been some place down here, and I remember that a song by “The Strokes” was playing. All I could think about was how I had heard every song of theirs and wanted a change of music, and then I awoke.

I think it was a very nice dream, thank you very much. I hope the description was vivid enough to paint a clear picture for you.

Getting to the chopper,

Seamus

Avellana, No Banana

I awoke this morning pretty early, and hungry. I would say I was sleepy-hungry. I thought a good meal would be Corn Flakes with sliced Banana, but the market was out of bananas. I settled for Corn Flakes with fresh pineapple instead, which was about two dollars total.

After breakfast, we took the remainder of our 24-hour bike rental period, and went down to Playa Negra. I’m not sure how that place got that nickname, but it must be something really bad (Endless Summer II innuendo). The ride was nice, but typical. Howler Monkeys, Chickens, Birds, and Iguanas littered the landscape. Earlier, I had purchased some “Good Weed” from a local. The weed down here is schwag in most cases, so the fact that they were excited about it made me happy. The guy was cool, and gave me a proper amount, but the weed would have been laughed at in San Fran. It got me pretty high, and it was a nice and mellow high, but the weed tasted like sage and was a little bit wet. I was satisfied with it overall, and I’m stoked to have some for my next destination: Monteverde!

After smoking pot, we rode the rest of the way to Playa Negra. The waves were overall pretty large, and some were almost double-overhead. I’m not good enough to be surfing that big of a wave, but the guys out there doing it looked like they were having a blast. I snapped some pictures of it, and I’ll have to see if they look good when I load them on to the computer. We smoked the rest of our pot on the beach, and then decided to get something to eat.

We ate at a place called “Pable Picasso’s,” run by a man we would later hear was disliked by the locals. His son’s apparently killed 13 Monkeys with air rifles, which angered more than one person. I can’t imagine anyone having a reason to shoot a monkey, and it’s sickening to know that it happened. Anyway, his restaurant offered free internet and Skype calls to the US if you get their “Burger as Big as Your Head” or fish tacos. I went for the burger, which was dry and shitty, but I ate the whole thing just so I can say that I did. I shouldn’t have done that, because it sucked, but the fries were very good. I made a couple phone calls and answered a couple emails, and we were back on our way to Playa Avallana.

Once we returned, we hopped in the water and swam for a few. The water was great, and I was coming off a good stone and exhausting day and I swear I almost had an out of body experience! That’s how relaxed I was. I just stopped driving and just started looking through my eyes rather than seeing through them.

Back at the hostel, I drank a couple beers, smoked a bit of pot with the guy who runs the place, and then played some pool. I beat John four out of five times, even though he was really into playing and pretty confident. I could tell he was pretty frustrated, but that’s just how the game goes. It is god awfully humid here and the cue stick was sticking to my fingers instead of sliding, so we cut the game short and just hung out.

There were a bunch of cows sleeping in the road, maybe ten feet away from the hammock I was in. It was interesting to sit and listen to the cows; it made me feel relaxed, and I felt like they really represented being free. I mean, they can just fart, piss, shit, make weird fucking noises, or whatever the fuck they want; and no other cow gives a crap! I also took some funny pictures of their shameless asses. Ah, how bored am I that a cow can make me think so much(question mark) I also snapped some good photos of a huge toad, which I saw last night as well. It was about as large as any I have ever seen, and I was able to get really close. Are you ready for your close up, Senor Frog(question mark) I also ran into my first Praying Mantis.

Jose, a Tico from San Jose, warned us that if we were bitten, we would get a fever for a night. I don’t want anything to do with a fever in this heat, so I stayed the fuck away after snapping a couple of pictures. While I was brushing my teeth, I saw another one on the wall. It must have been Praying Mantis fest ’06 or something, as there was a female on the ground. I snapped a couple pictures of them, until the one on the ground decided to fly right at me, scaring me off. I dodged her, and all seemed well, until I felt her fly right into the arm, scaring the crap out of me. You really don’t know what is latching on to you when that happens, so I screamed like a girl and probably woke up the entire camp. No one gave me shit about it, though, so it must happen all the time.

Well, that’s all I can remember right now. I thought I had something funny to tell, but it seems to have escaped me. Perhaps I will think of it tomorrow and write it down.

Just writing what I know,

Seamus