Pictured above is the Inter-Continental Highway. What's that? This is the major highway that connects the continent of North America, through Central America, to South America. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? Yes! It blew my mind!
Nine years ago, in the spring of 2005, my friend Alan and I took a spontaneous trip to Costa Rica. Some interesting and very favorable circumstances led us to have the ability to fly to this tropical paradise for two weeks (Thank you Alan!). I had just enough time to purchase a Lonely Planet guide and read up on our future destination. We took only our backpacks and had no reservations or itinerary. In fact, we did not decide where to stay our first night until just after the airplane's wheels touched the tarmac at San Jose International Airport. At the airport we selected one of many ticos (what Costa Rican's call themselves) vying for our attention and money to take us to our desired destination. During the cab ride we began to see a country vastly different from our own. Beat up old cars spewing black smoke littered the highway; apparently this is what happens when you run leaded gas in unleaded engines. 
Once we were on the border of the city itself the driver recommended that we stay in a hotel that a friend of his owned. Wow! What a nice guy. No, not really. The travel guide warned about cabbies luring you into unscrupulous places. Since I knew what to look for, we decided to see his friends place. Alan stayed in the cab to make sure our bags would remain safe. Once inside the hotel the driver talked with his friends and I ended up with a key and headed upstairs to check on the room. The room was dark and musty, but the most alarming sight was the door frame. It looked as if the lock had been jimmied over 1000 times. Just what the travel guide warned about. So, after a short argument the driver dropped us off at the hostel we were planning on staying. We took a walk around town and found a decent place for dinner... although many places, especially the banks had armed guards with shotguns outside.
The next day we boarded a bus headed for the mountain town of San Carlos, home of Vulcan Arenal; pictured right. The big disappointment was learning that someone stole my hiking boots from the cargo hold; they were strapped to the outside of my pack. No big loss, they were 5 years old and nasty and worn out, but gone! We acquired a room for $8. a night that had two beds and a great view of the volcano. The room even had a bathroom with shower; although the shower was a pipe out of the wall and a hole in the ground, nice tile though. The first day we traveled by van to have a rafting adventure on the Sarapaquia River. On our Journey Alan made some friends; pictured below, left.
We spent some time touring the city and saw a sloth on the way to a nature hike at the Volcano's base. Then a visit to the hot springs resort! Beautiful women, beautiful tiled pools, one with a bar and seats around it right in the middle of the pool. There was one pool, closer to the source, with a sign marking the water as too hot. I stepped in and did not enjoy burning feet, but really enjoyed watching the teenagers dare each other into it and then run out screaming in agony with red bodies. No serious harm, but funny! When we returned to San Carlos everyone was excited about the big game! Several times we passed a group of ticos gathered around a television set on a milk crate on the street corner so they could watch to futbol playoffs!
The next day we were headed for the small mountain town of Santa Elena. This town was a days journey away. We paid for a service that would take us by jeep to Lake Arenal, then by boat across the lake, then by jeep up the mountain to Santa Elena. Along the journey we traveled up rocky dirt roads and needed to wait often for livestock to vacate the road for us to pass. The small mountain town offered fun times day and night. To the right is the only paved road to be had in the city. Guards were in force at the bank; it was robbed by armed bandits the day before we arrived. We stayed at a hostel and spent some time in the rain forest flying through the trees on zip lines and then partying at night with the locals at their favorite watering holes.
Then we boarded a bus outfitted with an armed guard, to protect against banditos! Along the journey down the mountain we picked up farmers with buckets of cream and bags of freshly harvested coffee beans ready to go to market. At the bottom of the mountain we stopped at the intercontinental highway in order to switch buses. Wow, the highway was barely a paved road!! After switching buses once again we traveled through a "suburban" area where kids ran up into the backs of farm trucks filled with melons and tossed them over the side to friends on the street waiting for free sweet nourishment. This trip took us to the beach town of Tamarindo. Our room was carefully selected to avoid the stench of a rotting Iguana in the ceiling; thanks to Alan's nose. On the beach we rented surfboards and taught ourselves how to ride the waves. Definitely not as easy as it looks!!
From Tamarindo we headed to the small beach town of Samara after I haggled for a private ride that would only take 3 hours instead of 9 by bus. At this point in our trip we learned that spending an entire day traveling by bus was a waste of our time. Samara is a place where the locals stay and was quiet and beautiful. The accommodations were the best and least expensive. Right on the beach too!! Here we made friends with a local dog, witnessed the power of a solar eclipse, kayaked to the cove island and saw sea turtles, ate like kings(pictured at top), and shot pool with the locals; with some interesting results.
Then we headed for the great town of Montezuma. Here we stayed in a hostel, slept in hammocks and hiked the beach.. One beach had sand made up of small rocks that were red, green, blue and yellow; I have a dish of them in my home today. We were having so much fun that we did not want to leave! But alas our trip needed to end. We took a ferry off the peninsula de nicoya and met some Americans who were willing to drive us to the airport once we left the ferry. Although this trip was nine years ago I remember it like it was yesterday. I could write a blog entry for each day we spent in Costa Rica and at some point I may. Right now I have a one hour time limit for my blog and may spend future entries expanding on my favorite topics. Until then Pura Vida!!
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