9/27/2010 - Puerto Jimenez, Costa Rica: Swim Suit Up!

One the my favorite sounds, besides what you're probably thinking, is the loud satisfying thud of an immigration stamp. As long as I don't have to bribe someone to get it, there's always a good feeling associated with the finality of that stamp. I received a couple stamps leaving Nicaragua and entering Costa Rica, but coming to Costa Rica was somewhat less satisfying, probably because I've been here before and it really is the oddball country in Central America. Even the name Costa Rica translates to 'Rich Coast', which has got to be the most facetious name for your country. But anyhow, it all seems to work here. Tourists flow in by the bus loads, and the standard of living flies skyward with them. The majority of the population here has a staggeringly better quality of then their close neighbors. Which in turn makes this little country fucking expensive. I've travelled through almost all the countries here, and really this place is not a cheap ass motorcyclists paradise. If you've got a limited time span and a big budget; this is definitely your place to experience Central America, but twelve bucks for a dorm. Eff that dude. I'm out of here. Tomorrow I'm heading for the Panamanian border. I'm hoping to find better people, food, culture, and maybe some fifty cent beers.

Some more useless insight on Central America: the people are nicer the further north you go. So as you can guess it's been getting progressively worse for me. I started noticing it in Leon when some douche bag at a breakfast restaurant tried to charge BJ and I eight dollars for two crappy cups of coffee. After arguing for about ten minutes he wouldn't budge, so I left him what I thought was appropriate, and I walked out. Then it got even worse in Granada, when people would annoy the crap out you by trying to sell you junk every few minutes. Really? You think I'm going to buy your stupid wooden frog whistle the sixth time you ask me? Seriously, one chick was trying to sell a toothbrush, so she physically hit BJ with it telling him to buy it. Fuck off, he actually wanted to buy a toothbrush, but with those aggressive sales techniques he obviously didn't buy one. Then recently in Costa Rica, I got screwed out of some money, because again some liars told us one price, then once I got settled in, all of a sudden it's forty dollars for a dirty hotel room without a toilet seat. Ugh, it really makes me miss the extremely generous hospitality of Mexico.

Now that I'm done trying to be insightful and philosophical about the minute differences in one Central American culture to the next, I think I'm going to write something a bit more entertaining about something that's happened to me. Pow! Here it is: hot springs in La Fortuna, Costa Rica. Now BJ and I have been looking for hot springs during our entire adventure. We got faked out by cold ones in Oaxaca, never found the ones in Guatemala, but free hot springs in Costa Rica. Yes, please. After asking about ten different locals I find them, it's a quick hike off the main road, about a twenty minute ride from town. Game time. BJ and I head back to the hostel get a bottle and a friend, then after a drink we swim suit up, and make for the hot springs. After the little hike there's a small waterfall and pool with water at the perfect temperature. Of course we bust out our to-go nalgene bottle of booze and drink for a bit. As we're finishing up we notice that there's a slide to the other side of the road and possibly some more people. We all get a running start and jump on this slide / culvert under the bridge. It's not much of a slide, but at the end there's another bigger and nicer pool filled with women in bikinis and hot water. It's nighttime by now, so all the women look gorgeous. As BJ put it: "I think we just slid into heaven." Awesome, and all for the perfect budget traveling price of free. After a bit of chatting with other tourists we head out hoping to meet up with some later at a club for some dancing. Turns out we're too cheap to pay a ridiculous eight dollar cover, so after a few drinks in town we call it a damn good Saturday night.

One last thing about traveling right now, while everybody back at home is enjoying an absurd heat wave, I'm enjoying non stop rain. No matter what time of the day I get on the road it's been raining. At least I'm lucky enough to have a decent rain suit that keeps me soggy, but not soaking wet. Oh the joys of traveling by motorcycles, sometimes I wonder why I didn't just take a car. Too late now, motorcycles are more fun and dangerous anyway.