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Greetings from San Jose, Costa Rica
Greetings from San Jose, Costa Rica. And the adventure continues! Today, we crossed the border between Nicaragua and Costa Rica. It was unbelievable! There were no computers, only stacks of papers waiting to be filed, rubber stamps, long lines and little pieces of paper that required somebody’s stamp or initial in order to proceed to the next window, which was not marked, often times in a separate building. Inside the windows were one or two people with a baseball hat or t-shirt on indicating their importance, who would examine your papers and, assuming the gods were smiling, stamp your little piece of paper so you could proceed to the next little window, as you prayed for your next stamp of approval. There were hoards of people milling about, no rhyme or reason to the process and absolutely no direction whatsoever. He entire process took over 5 hours!


Some friends from Guatamala

After the mayhem at the border, we drove about a hundred and fifty miles to the South to a really beautiful lake, Lago de Arenal. We inadvertently drove the circumference, or most of it, looking for a road to volcano Arenal and a small town to the east of it, La Fortuna. It took a while to find the road (more on the street signs in Costa Rica momentarily), but it turned out to be one of those “damn am I glad we got lost” kind of things because, despite really strong winds (nowhere even close to the wind in XXXXX, Mexico), it was stunning! The water was a deep blue that reflected the green mountains, banana trees, bright colored flowers and palms that surrounded it. We could hear the howler monkeys and parrots squawks over the sound of the bikes. The street had a canopy of foliage that looked like a movie set. Phillipe ran over an iguana, a ram gave us a challenge to pass (eventually he moved aside and let us by), a turkey buzzard made a dive that I’m sure was aimed at me (he missed), a group of cows blocked the street but eventually moved aside, and we passed by some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen. What I believe to be a lima jumped out in front of Phillipe, ran in front of his bike, and stopped. It had no fear of us whatsoever, despite our “spaceman” looking outfits and extremely large BMW motorcycles. Phillipe pulled out his camera and took a picture. Welcome to Costa Rica.

The road passed the lake and went from pavement to dirt and went into the jungle. It was a little daunting at first because it felt very isolated, but after a while, we passed a tourist bus or two and we realized this was just another territory of the USA (so to speak). Even so, the jungle was difficult to navigate because the rain forests seemed to seep a constant moisture, like it was raining when it wasn’t, and that kept the road a little muddy. My tires are much better suited for the highway than the mud, and I had a few close calls, but we both made it to La Fortuna without incident. In retrospect, it was not really a problem, although it slowed our travels down tremendously, so I was close to dark when we arrived.

Go to market, Honduras style!
La Fortuna is one of those small towns that seems to hover around just about every tourist attraction that I’ve ever been to, outside of a large city. They all have the “tourist info” stands, the “guided tours” sign that promises an amazing adventure for not much money and the inevitable restaurant that, despite the advertised economical “special”, somehow manages to hand over a bill for a surprisingly unreasonable amount of money no matter what you order. Each and every one of them, no matter where in the world you are, seems to have a club sandwich with fries. Anyway, we managed to find a really nice little hotel for about with a private bathroom and hot water, which is a real find in these parts. I washed my clothes in the hotel wastebasket (after cleaning it of course) and then we got a bite to eat.
Going to work, Nicagura style!
The big attraction in La Fortuna is, of course, the volcano, which is still active. On a clear night you are supposed to be able to see lava emitting from the top, although it was cloudy that night, so we were deprived of the spectacle. Fortunately every tourist stand, restaurant, grocery store, billboard and t-shirt in the vicinity proudly featured the mini eruption, in all of its grandeur, so we got a pretty good idea. We did see the cloud of steam rising out of the top during our trip in, and it was impressive. With visions of Pompeii dancing in my head, I asked the woman who ran the hotel if she was in the least bit concerned about the volcano erupting and engulfing the entire town in flame and ash, and she made some joke in Spanish that I did not understand. I took it that she was not overly concerned.

In the morning it was raining. This was a bit of a disappointment for me, as I has been so lucky up until this point with the weather. We decided to grab some breakfast and wait it out, but after checking email, eating breakfast, packing, loitering and hitting the money machine, it was apparent mother nature was going to have her way with us despite our patience. On we went. The Costa Rican rain was more of a drizzle than downpour, but it lasted the entire day so were forced to take a route that was paved, as the dirt roads would have most certainly been treacherous with a good soaking. After studying his French guide book, Phillipe decided we needed to see some other volcano some 100 kilometers away, and I said ok despite my gut feeling that the clouds would prevent us from seeing anything even if we could find it (sometimes it is easier to go along than to try to argue…) so on we went. Somehow we missed our turn (see note on street signs in Costa Rica) and ended up some 100 miles north of our destination, at the Nicaraguan border. No big deal, we backtracked over some beautiful mountains and made it to San Jose, the largest city in Costa Rica, just before nightfall.


Hanging out in Granada

In Costa Rica, there are very few signs that mark the streets. For instance, we found a hotel, the Cozal Azul, in a guide book. It was on Av 5, between calle 3 & 4. In most Latin America cities, it is usually easiest if you go to the town center, or the Zocolo as they call it, and from there just count blocks. Easy enough, right? Wrong. In this city there are no street signs. I don’t mean they are difficult to find, small or rusted. I mean there are NO street signs. Throw in the rush hour traffic, lack of stoplights, a general disrespect for motorcyclists and the one way streets and I was not having fun. We asked police, taxi drivers and pedestrians, and nobody even knew the names of the streets! It was absolutely insane! Finally we found the hotel but they were booked solid. We got directions to another, booked. And another, and another. 7 hotels later, we found a place, but parking was not included. The clerk suggested we go to pay parking lots and try to negotiate a good price for overnight parking. Eventualy we found a parking garage, but we had to be out by 7 or would be charged additionally by the hour. We were so tired at that point we said ok. There is a reason the Latin American countries will never rule the world.
Jungle critter, Costa Rica
The next morning we got up, showered quickly, as to not have to pay more for the parking, got out and pulled the bikes in front of the hotel. By 9am we were off, headed for the coast. A beautiful ride over the mountains and into the rain forest had us to the city by 2 in the afternoon, so we grabbed a quick bite on the beach and fou nd a nice camping spot. I got such a kick out of watching Phillipe set up his camping site. He is VERY particular, and must have carefully examined 5 separate spots before choosing one, not even close to my tent, before setting up. He is carrying enough gear for an expedition up Everest, I have no idea how he gets all that stuff on a motorcycle.
Philippe at imigrations in Honduras
OK, all for now. We'll be heading to Panama in the am then flying the bikes and ourselves to Ecuador shortly thereafter, so stay tuned. More adventure to come!
Trade the bike for a popsicle? No way kid.

Picture for my friend Paige
Taken somewhere in Costa Rica

trace amigos having some lunch