Remember when we had this moment? It was ecstasy. Our first international backpacking trip lay before us: A new country with untold adventures on the horizon! Those feelings lasted for all of twenty minutes until our brakes gave out.
This is Brock standing in the middle of the road with the tourist bus we ran into, waiting for the police to arrive.
We contemplated going home right then and there. The first twenty minutes of our vacation had already cost us thousands! (Our deductible was $1200, but we had to pay for damages to the other car, too.) And lo, there was much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.
But then we thought: Hey. WE'VE MET OUR DEDUCTIBLE. Meaning we could beat the CRAP out of our little Korean import for the next seven days with no further monetary consequences. The brakes were working again, so we hit the road. (The fact that our car looked like beater may have worked to our advantage--rental car thievery is rampant in CR, but ours was so thrashed that I'm sure it looked local, haha)
It was a grand adventure, but now the memories are so much sweeter because . . . *drumroll*
That, my friends, is justice. We got every penny back!
Mad props to Brock. He spent weeks compiling the claim of all claims to send to Visa. A few weeks ago, we stuffed everything into a bulging envelope and mailed it off--photos, our rental contract, the car's accident and mechanical history, our written testimony, the written testimony of a local mechanic who explained the brake failure, etc. Not a stone was left unturned.
Talk about a payoff. (Literally and figuratively.) Pura vida, baby.
My original plan for our fourth day in Costa Rica was to spend it spelunking in Barra Honda National Park (which is only about twenty minutes down the road from Nicoya, where we were staying). We'd had a great night's sleep at the bishop's house--I still can't get over how lucky we were to have ran into him the night before. Nicoya is a cute town during the daytime, but at night it looked a little sketch.
What's more, the city was preparing for a huge celebration the following week. On July 25, 1824 the region of Nicoya decided to annex to Costa Rica instead of Nicaragua. Every year, they have a week-long festival celebrating that annexation--and according to the the bishop, thieves come out in droves for it. Violent crime is extremely rare in Costa Rica, but it's very common for tourists to have the contents of their car raided. So not only was I happy to spend the night inside a safe, comfortable house, I was happy that our car was locked inside a gated yard with a psycho dog guarding it. (More on the bishop's dog later . . . but seriously, that thing was messed up.)
We woke up early and ate breakfast at the small restaurant owned by the bishop and his family. They were so kind to us and so fun to talk to! The bishop's older brother was particularly hilarious.
Gallo pinto, fresh OJ, cheese, fried eggs, and chorreadas--pancakes made out of corn.
You can faintly see Brock in the door of their restaurant.
After breakfast, we had a mini-adventure back at the bishop's house involving car alarms and a Walk of Terror past his demented dog (whom we lovingly referred to as The Beast a la The Sandlot). But it wasn't long before we were on the road to las cavernas!
Our day came to a screeching halt when, at Barra Honda, we discovered that only one of the three caves was open, and that you had to be accompanied by a guide to go down it. To the tune of $65/hour. In 'Merika, that's what we call A JOKE.
Several Costa Ricans have told us that tourism is really suffering down there--partly because of the global recession, and partly because Costa Ricans are shameless price-gougers. The thing is, if you are offering a service in a foreign country that caters to predominantly Canadians and Americans, maybe it would be a good idea to find out what the equivalent cost of that service is in Canada and the US. A four-second Google search reveals that a 3-4 hour tour in the Carlsbad Caverns costs a mere $40/couple. So Barra Honda was charging 60% more for three hours less in a cave that, lo siento, doesn't hold a candle to Carlsbad. And they wonder why we left.
Instead, we went the opposite direction to Tamarindo, where we rented two surfboards all day for $20. (Kelly's Surf Shop--if you're ever in Tamarindo, hit this place up. Kelly is the man!) The waves were incredible that day--nothing big, but just easy and fun and rolling. Brock said it was the best surfing day of his life. I'm still learning, but I managed to get up on my own a couple times :) If anything, I was grateful for warm water and a soft, sandy ocean floor!
Funny story. Just as we were about to hit the water, I decided to go get something out of the car. So I'm running back to the car, on the beach, in a bikini, feeling mighhhhhhty "Baywatch" when FA-POOM. I eat it FACE FIRST in the sand. In front of everyone. It was so funny that I started laughing out loud, which I'm sure made me look like an even BIGGER idiot, but I mean, what else are you going to do in that situation?! I'm so sad Brock didn't see it! Funny moments like that are a shame if nobody films them, but they're a total WASTE if nobody sees them! (Well, at least nobody you know.) But guys, f'real. If I had been able to put this on YouTube, it would've become the next "Charlie Bit My Finger."
After a few hours of surfing we decided to explore some of the neighboring beaches around Tamarindo.
Playa Grande
You put the lime in the coconut . . .
We grabbed a quick bite to eat at a beachside taco stand in Playa Grande. That's when this happened.
Two minutes later, as we're leaving the parking lot, some drunk guy comes up to us and is all "HEY. It costs two dollars to park here." And Brock is like "There's no sign that says that. Where is your identification?" The man says "Here!" and points to his hat which has "SEGURIDAD" printed on it. Totally legit. Brock pulled his car out and drove away, with Mr. Borracho giving us all kinds of lovely hand signs in the rearview mirror.
Estuary into the ocean at Playa Avellanas
Behind where I took this picture was a small house--this estuary ran in front of it. Can you imagine looking out your kitchen as seeing this every day?!
After goofing around, we went back to Tamarindo for dinner at a place called FT's. Is there anything better than tropical smoothies and hot wings after a day of surfing? Well, maybe. But that was still freaking good. We had a great time chatting it up with the young Canadian couple next to us. Tamarindo was definitely the most touristy place we went to, but that was kind of nice for a day.
You'd think a super touristy place like Tamarindo would have a gas station. WRONG. Our tank was on empty, and the nearest station was a good ten miles away. Single gallons of gas were sold at little soda shops along the road, but of course they gouge like mad ($8/gallon or more). We decided to take our chances and go look for "cheap" gas--only $5.30 at regular stations!
Naturally, it makes sense to put a gas station at the top of a HUGE-A hill. Brock and I were so paranoid that we'd run out while going up!
But we made it! Thank goodness. After an hour-long drive back to Nicoya, we both passed out in bed within fifteen minutes. What a day!
After a wonderful night's rest (is there anything better than falling asleep listening to rain on your roof?) we woke up early for breakfast at the lodge. With full bellies, we headed into Malpais to scope out the town. I don't know how that place even has a name, because there is definitely no "town" anywhere. Scattered shanty houses, a church, a cemetery . . . that was just about it. It made Santa Teresa (about 5km to the north) look like a thriving metropolis. A true feat.
Santa Teresa
The beaches near Malpais are rocky, so we headed back up to Santa Teresa to check out the surf. It was a little overcast and windy, but the waves weren't too bad. Not good enough to convince us to rent boards, in any case. (Besides, there is NO WAY our stuff would've been safe parked at the beach.)
So Santa Teresa and Malpais were a total bust. Bummer. We headed back to the lodge for a few more rounds of cards, grabbed some ice cream in town, a stash of snacks, and hit the road for Nicoya.
On the way to Nicoya we stopped by the Curu Wildlife Reserve for a few hours. On our way in, we saw a half dozen howler monkeys chilling out in the trees above the road. Sweet! We stopped the car and got out to look at them closer.
All of a sudden, a trickle of MONKEY PEE hit the ground in front of me. Then to the left of me. Then near Brock! IT WAS A COORDINATED MONKEY PEE ATTACK. I swear I heard one of them yell Leeeeroooooooooy Jennnnnnkiiiiinnns!
I guess those monkeys didn't want to be bothered, because they've certainly figured out how to get tourists to high-tail it away from them! We parked our car a little farther down the road and set off on some nature hikes.
Fanny pack, map--ULTIMATE TOURIST.
No tourist ensemble is complete without binoculars.
The best hike was to a look-out point that showcased the Curu Reserve's private beach. It was a little bit of a trek, but so worth it!
We went on another hike called the "Monkey Trail", but we didn't see ANY MONKEYS. False advertising. It was still a beautiful walk through the rainforest, though! Ironically, all the monkeys chill out at the administration building--30 feet from where we parked our car--because they know they can get scraps of food from tourists! There were about a dozen white-faced capuchins leaping from tree to tree--they're so funny! I loved seeing a momma monkey with a baby clinging to her back. Didn't slow her down one bit!
Our hike had made us all sweaty, so we headed to the beach to cool down. I've never had the problem of ocean water being too warm before, but there's a first time for everything! It was like stepping into mild bathwater . . . not the sensation I was looking for after an hour of hiking!
We bid Curu adieu (HEY. That rhymes) and started the drive to Nicoya. Mind you, Nicoya is not very far away--maybe sixty miles or so from the reserve. But the first fifteen miles took a solid hour to drive. When a map indicates an unpaved road in Costa Rica, expect the worst! I can totally see why locals don't even bother with cars--they buy ATVs or dirt bikes. Luckily, our crappy little car made it out of there alive, and when the road finally became paved again, we literally shouted with joy.
Oh, but our driving adventures for the day weren't over yet.
A tree blocking the entire road. That'll stop ya.
When we finally made it into Nicoya, we were so hungry that we literally stopped at the first restaurant we saw. If you've never eaten at an all-in-one Chinese/American/Costa Rican/German dining establishment, lemme tell ya, you're missing out. On some nasty food.
The best part of the restaurant was its background music. We're pretty sure they bought a "Best of the 90s" CD without knowing that they'd purchased the karoake version. For some reason, we got the biggest kick out of this. (Exhaustion + hunger = Mormon drunk)
After dinner, we popped into a grocery store to grab something sweet. Lo and behold, we found nearby BIRTHDAY CAKE OREOS!!! I was so happy! They're a limited edition type of Oreo that I haven't found in America since last year. We stocked up ;)
By this time, it was completely dark outside and we still had no idea where we were going to sleep that night. On our way into town we'd seen an LDS church, so we went back to see if by chance it was open. It wasn't :( There was a PERFECT grassy area behind it, but everything was locked behind a tall chain-link fence to prevent vandalism.
We started asking passersby and neighbors of the church if they knew any Mormons when I saw a black 4Runner pull up to the front of the church.
It was the bishop.
What luck! The garbage man had forgotten to come by that day, and dogs had ravaged the sacks of trash outside the church. The bishop rarely stops by the church after 9pm, but he did on this particular day to pick up the mess outside. How is that for providence?!
Rather than camping in the grassy backyard (where he would literally have to lock us behind a fence) the bishop told us to just stay at his place! He was a divorcee who lived alone, so he was more than happy to have company. Especially when we insisted on buying him a huge two-liter of Coke that night as thanks :) We all kicked back that night and sipped our Cokes while watching TV, and, since it was Monday, ended the night with a Family Home Evening (he hadn't had one in years and was so excited to do it).
When we set out for Nicoya, we were simply hoping for a place to sleep. We ended up with a place to sleep that was comfortable and safe as well. God is good.
I woke up a little after
sunrise and took a bath in the ocean. It felt so good, especially considering
how the previous day had been so muggy. Isn't it funny how clean hair and
brushed teeth can make you feel so much better?
I set my toiletries on a
rock and used them one by one. Sometime during shampooing, an exceptionally
large wave crashed ashore and washed everything away! Luckily I was able to
find everything except for a disposable razor. SORRY FOR POLLUTING YOU, EARTH!
After breaking camp we
headed to breakfast at one of the little soda shops in town. In Costa Rica a
"soda shop" is basically like a mini-mart, sometimes with a small
restaurant attached. This was one of my favorite meals of the trip! We had a chocolate
banana granola smoothie, fried eggs, a banana pancake, bacon, fried plantains,
and a little bit of cheese. Riiiicisimooo!!!
Then on to adventure!
Montezuma's main attraction is the set of three amazing waterfalls nearby.
After a twenty-minute hike upriver through the jungle, we arrived at the first
(and biggest) one.
If you look closely, you
can see a pool above the waterfall--another waterfall feeds into that pool, and another
waterfall feeds into that one. Freaking rad. We
splashed around in the big pool of the lower falls for a little while, but we'd
heard that the ones above were much quieter and secluded (most tourists just
stop at the lower falls). So away we went! There really wasn't a trail, per se, but
there were plenty of tree roots to help you scramble up the wet mountainside.
We wound our way through
the jungle until we got to the pool of the third waterfall. Brock was stoked to
find a rope swing and, since we were the only ones there, it didn't take long
for him to channel his inner Tarzan. Sans loincloth.
Oh, it gets better. We'd
heard that the pool beneath the second waterfall was super deep
. . .
Nothing screams
"pura vida" like jumping of a 40-foot waterfall, eh? After splashing
around a bit, we continued up the river using a trail off to the side. We found
a beautiful set of pools farther up ahead and cooled off in them. It felt like we
were the only two people in the world.
"Our" pools.
On our way back
down into down, we snacked on some funky-lookin' fruit we'd bought at a soda
shop. It's called mamon chino. The translucent flesh inside
tastes similar to a grape, but with a sweet tropical tinge. Delicious!
Once back in
town, we ate an early dinner of ceviche (Brock's favorite) at a small
restaurant. The only tables it had were outside on a covered patio, which
made it the perfect location for beggars...
Cue the Mission: Impossible theme.
These white-faced
capuchin monkeys were everywhere! We literally ate dinner
about six feet away from a dozen of them. The owners of the restaurant have
completely enabled monkeys' antics by always throwing them scraps. You
really have to keep your eye on them! When a server turned her back on a table
(for all of five seconds), one of these monkeys lept from a branch, onto the
table, and stole a sugar packet from a jar! Little sneak.
This little sucker found a loose section of the tin roof and would bang it up and down in hopes of dinner scraps. It was cute the first time. Then it got freaking annoying.
After dinner we
spent a blissful hour down at the beach. It was cool and overcast, so we just
laid ourselves down in the sand and talked.
With a few hours
left until sundown, we decided to take a mini road-trip up to the hills above
Montezuma. It was a gorgeous countryside, with lots of rolling pastures and farms. Just as we were about to turn back, Brock asked the car behind us
if there was anything cool up ahead. "Oh, yeah!" she said.
"The town of Santa Teresa. It's awesome--so much better than
Montezuma."
Sweet! I thought. Santa Teresa was on the
itinerary for tomorrow anyway, and since we were halfway there, we figured
we'd just keep going. (Ah, the beauty of backpacking--you can get up and go whenever!)
Well, that lady
must've been on something, because Santa Teresa was a hell-hole.
It was the perfect example of what happens when you let surf bums invade your
city. The only thing people do in Santa Teresa is surf and smoke weed. Not
exactly a recipe for a dynamic, thriving community.
We got a really
bad vibe there (lovingly referring to it thereafter as "Satan
Town"). Camping wasn't allowed on the beach (a few years ago there were
a lot of surfers literally living there), and even if it had been allowed, I
don't know that we would've felt safe. So we splurged! A couple kilometers
outside of town we found a cute place where we could stay in a private
bungalow. Breakfast included. For a whopping $40.
After settling
in, we went back into town to grab some snacks. We loaded up on junk food:
Hazelnut milk, raspberry shortbread cookies, Doritos, and--drumroll,
please!--Kinder Bueno bars!!! I hadn't seem them since Jordan, so I was one
happy girl.
We came back and
ate The Feast while playing cards (I AM THE QUEEN OF "SPEED"!). It
was so much fun that we made it a nightly tradition for the rest of our trip!
After some hot showers, we settled into bed and fell asleep
to the sounds of the rainforest.
Had I known that
all that chirping outside was made not by birds, but by BATS clinging to the netting
around our room, I probably wouldn't have slept so soundly. Ignorance is
bliss!
Backpacks loaded in the trunk, cruising to San Jose, George Michael on the radio. Pura vida, baby.
Saturday, July 14, 2012. 6:09AM
Our brakes give out and we coast to a stop . . . into the back of a bus. Here we are waiting for cops and an insurance man to come to fill out paperwork. Goodbye, $1200 deductible.
To say that our Costa Rica trip did not get out to the best start would be an understatement. The best part? After this accident, the brakes started working again. (Do I happen to have any car-savvy blog readers who could explain this? A mechanic from the rental company looked at the car afterward--brake fluid was fine.) When we explained what happened to Hertz, everyone there looked at us like we were total liars. And really, who could blame them? We have no proof. Now that we're back home, we're ready to put up our dukes and fight. I know I have a few friends taking the bar exam soon. Pro bono work, anyone?! :)
We almost let this spoil the vacation. As in, thought about catching the next flight back home. But we decided to stick it out and continued our journey in a now-banged-up Daihatsu Bego. Yep. We drove that same car around. Getting a new one would've meant another $1200 hold on our credit card. Plus, why rent a new car when you've already met your deductible on an old one?! Any ensuing accident would be "free!" FREE CAR WRECKS FOR ALL!!!!!!!
We made our way to the port town of Puntarenas to catch the ferry across the Gulf of Nicoya. You know that website People of Walmart? I'm pretty sure its Costa Rican equivalent is People of Puntarenas. Seriously. We arrived at this hot, dirty, dingy city and really started wondering if this whole Costa Rica thing was all it was cracked up to be...
After waiting a sweltering two hours for the next ferry over, we boarded the boat and made our way to Paquera. I'm pretty sure I cried the whole way over. Both Brock and I were going on very little sleep (about seven hours total in the previous two days), I was PMSing, overwhelmed with the rental car situation, etc. During the ride, we chatted with a nice man from Canada who one-upped our car story with a Costa Rican nightmare he'd lived through the previous year. It involved him, a motorcycle, a terrible accident, and a five-hour painkiller-less ordeal to the nearest hospital. It 50% put things in perspective, 50% annoyed me. (I'm usually cool with brushing off one-upmanship, but not when I'm having, like, the shittiest day ever.)
Our destination, Montezuma, was still another hour away from Paquera. Luckily most of the road was paved so it didn't take too long to get there. Montezuma is a super small town (two streets that form a T, that's it), but it has an awesome vibe. Very bohemian. Dreadlocks everywhere. (Locals call it "Montefuma" because of all the Mary Jane.) We grabbed some Italian food for dinner, which I KNOW is lame because we were in Costa Rica, but whatever. After a day like that, all I wanted was a chilled Coke and some pizza. Sue me. (Unless you're Hertz Rental Car, in which case I SUE YOU.)
After a quick splash in the ocean, we set up camp--right on the beach! I cried some more. Brock and I had officially deemed it a Day of Mourning, so I guess I was trying to meet my tear deductible. But then the coolest thing happened. As we turned off our lantern to go to sleep, we saw tinkling lights. Everywhere.
Fireflies. It was so beautiful watching them that any thought of deductibles or insurance or battles with Hertz faded away. Kind of like those fireflies--flickering on, off, on, off, until daylight came and they disappeared completely.
That night's sleep was just what we needed to recharge our batteries. It was a testament to our exhaustion that we slept at all--it was so unbearably hot! But it's easy to fall asleep to an ocean lullaby. I loved hearing the tide roll in at around 2AM, with the waves crashing closer and closer.
Hard to say you've had a bad day when it ends like that.
