Adventuras Acuáticas: Capitulo Cuatro - From Cahuita, Costa Rica to our home in Merida

[continued from Capitulo Tres]  We walked back into town and had dinner at Riki's.  There wasn't much open, so choices were limited which was a good thing.  Our ability to make choices was drained.  It was a quiet dinner - we were both road weary.  Full stomachs made falling asleep in our dirty, creepy room a little easier.  

And, hey, we made it!!  All in one day, all the way to the Caribbean!  Tomorrow would be a better day!

Ah, Cahuita!  We got up and were grateful that our room at Sam's Cabinas didn't look quite as horrifying in the morning light as it had when illuminated from the one bare bulb the night before.  Still… arguably clean bed sheets, strange hairs and used soap in the bathroom had us in the hunt for new digs today.  But first - food.  We walked down the road and found Soda Chocolatte.  Wonderful spot!  In fact, this would be the place for breakfast for our entire 3 day stay.  They bake bread fresh daily, so they have the aroma thing going on.  Plus the coffee is strong and portions good enough to fuel you through the morning.  We had their plato grande - eggs, fresh fruit, cheese, ham, the aforementioned fresh bread, plus coffee or tea and juice.  Yes, please!

See?  Today was already better.

We found a new place to crash at Spencer's Seaside Lodging, snagged our stuff from the Crack and Smack Shack, and moved to our Caribbean paradise.  Seriously, right on the water, second floor room, rocking chair and hammock.  Nice room, quiet - only the sound of waves.  Very reasonably priced.  

An excellent example of a formal Costa Rican hammock garden in full bloom.

If only we could have stumbled upon this place while wandering around last night!  This hotel is why one comes to the Caribe!  We made several passes by Sam's place to drop the key, tell him we moved and to see about getting a refund (in our travel weary stupor, we had foolishly paid for three nights in advance).  Yeah, we never laid eyes on Sam again.  Thank goodness his room was dirt cheap (key word:  dirt) or we may have looked a little harder for him.  As it turned out, we ended up just slipping the key through an open window and walking away.  Chalk that up as a lesson learned.

We put on swim suits, packed some water, and headed for Cahuita National Park.  There is no admission fee; they rely on donations via a choose-your-own rate voluntary fee.  It's a great way to get rid of the pounds and pounds of coins you end up with when in Costa Rica!  

Bex! and Beauregard

The beach is white sand and gorgeous.  There is a trail that rambles through the trees along the edge of the beach but we opted to barefoot it through the sand.  Bex! had never been in the Caribbean before, so - here ya go!

We reached the end of the beach, where a river flows into the sea.  From this point you can hire a boat to take you around the point to pick up the trail again.  We decided instead to wade the river and go as far as we could, which was about… here...

Umm… honey?

On the way back across the mouth of the river, I had the sudden scary image of caimans and crocodiles.  Did they have them in these parts?  Maybe they hang out right here to catch fish and (gulp) gringos.  Or maybe it would be sharks lurking near the mouth of the river!!  Yikes!  Or perhaps my huge and manly calves would be considered delectable to (double yikes!!) piranhas!  

"What's that dark spot under the water??!!!"

I scurried across to the safety of shore and waited, camera at the ready, to see if the wife's presence in the water would answer my question or substantiate my fear.

The answer was… no.

Sigh.

We found a nice spot on the beach about half way back to the park entrance and went swimming.  Oh, the water was luxurious!  It was warm and lovely, very relaxing.  After getting our swim on, we went back to the room, changed clothes and went for lunch.

We had read about a place called Miss Edith's, a local joint where they served up authentic Caribbean cuisine.  We were not disappointed.  When we walked into the open-air restaurant, we saw a middle-aged woman sitting at a table.  She looked like the cook and, in fact, was none other than Miss Edith herself, in the flesh and blood.  A young guy named Tyrone, his mountain of dreadlocks held under a Rasta knit cap, gave us menus and took our drink order (beer, duh).  Oh, my - the menu.  I'm a fan of spicy food, when it's spiced to complement the dish not overwhelm all flavor.  And my wife has elevated her appreciation of heat in food and now she quite enjoys a little zing.  Jerk chicken, rondon, coconut curries, smoked chicken, … I could hardly contain myself. 

I settled on the jerk chicken and Bex! ordered the coconut curry ginger with smoked chicken.  There were two women just finishing their lunch and they confirmed that we had made excellent choices, although they warned me about the jerk chicken.  "Be careful!  You'll need more beer."  I took that as a good thing.  Miss Edith got up to get the order from Tyrone and went back to the kitchen to make magic.

OMG!

Um… wow!  The food was amazing!  My chicken was wonderfully spiced, so complex and just the right amount of heat.  Tyrone told me that she made it about medium heat for me.  Feeling a little insulted, but thankful at the same time, I mopped the sauce off the plate with my finger.  Bex! loved her dish, too.  She loves ginger and you could see fresh grated pieces throughout her coconut curry.  You could also see the beautiful smoke ring, where the slow-cooking flavor permeated the chicken.  Some online reviews say Miss Edith's can be 'hit or miss' - no miss here, it was outta the park!  As an example, Bex! was so into her dish, she had to drink her beer like this…

Eating at Miss Edith's requires a fork and all ten digits.

Bellies full and tongues tingling, we went back to the hotel to sit on the balcony and listen to the waves crashing on the rock wall that keeps the sea at bay.  Drinks, chilling with iPads and playing some cards was the order of the afternoon.  It was very relaxing and wonderful.  Later that evening we walked the two blocks to the town center to find dinner.  

We settled on Restaurante La Fé, only because the reviews we'd read said the owner and chef here was colorful and friendly.  He was, indeed.  A young man was taking our order but out from the kitchen came Walter to personally give us the run down on what he could offer us this evening.  We each ordered dishes with his 'famous' coconut sauce - I had shrimp and Bex! had fish.  The food was average, honestly, but the vibe at this place was lively and engaging, a people watcher's paradise.   As we enjoyed our meal, locals came and went, in and out of the restaurant or passing by on the street.  La Fé was like the hub for locals and everyone knew Walter and his staff!  At the end of our meal, a guy walked in off the street and cleared my empty plate!  Confused at first, we soon realized he was an employee who was being efficient while coming on shift for the night.  Ha!

One thing we noticed during our stay in this fantastic little seaside town is that there appeared to be only, like, four dogs in the entire community and that everyone must share them.  We saw these dogs everywhere we went but never saw any others.  And all the locals seemed to know the dogs, calling them by name.  Not a bad idea, really.  Community-owned dogs, everyone is responsible.  I like it.

After dinner, we crossed the street to have drinks at Coco's Bar, the spot for live music in town.  Locals and tourists alike hang out here.  We sat outside but there is also seating near the bar inside as well as some booths and tables further back near the huge dance floor.  Sitting outside is where it's at, though.  We enjoyed watching Cahuita pass by and listened to a local calypso band, all while enjoying twoferones during happy hour!  Bex! likes gin and it's difficult to find in Central America, so she was pleasantly surprised to be able to order a gin and tonic.  Or as they call them here, a gintonic.   The highlight of the evening was the band performing their rousing version of Harry Belafonte's 'Matilda', replacing 'Venezuela' with 'Cahuita'.  So make that change in your head when you're tapping your toe and whistling along.  "Ma-til-da, she take my money and run to Cahuita!"

Back at the hotel, we sat outside for a short time then went to bed.  The white noise of the waves lulled while the calypso beats of the band kept running through my head.  Today turned out great!!

After breakfast at Soda Chocolatte again (our motto:  if it ain't broke, don't fix it), we headed north through town to check out a different area of Cahuita.  We stopped by the bus terminal to check departure times for the next day.  We picked our time and bought our tickets, then continued walking north through town.  Cahuita is unusual in that it is flanked by two very different beaches.  Yesterday, we had explored Playa Blanca to the south and its white sands but on the north end of town the sand is black - Playa Negra.  

Look at those legs!

Ooh!  Never mind - look at those legs!

This beach was much quieter - we only saw two other people as we walked to the far north end and back again.  We noticed there were many newer, high-end BnB's and inns as well as a lot of expats up this way whereas the area we were staying looked to be older, more established and the part of town where the locals lived.  Later, at the hotel, we were debating where to go for lunch, couldn't decide and so chose to hit the nearby white sand beach for a swim first.

After our dip in the sea, we hit Miss Edith's for lunch - again.  I know it may seem boring to you but the food is exactly what you think of when you envision 'Caribbean'.   Plus, we had walked past most of the available restaurants in town and none of them seemed that interesting.  Plus plus, if the locals dig it, it's a good sign.  So there.  Bex! had the coconut curry with peanuts.  Based on Tyrone's suggestion, I ordered rondon - a delicious soup/stew.

Rondon - and, yes, that is an infamous scotch bonnet pepper resting on top.  And, yes, I ate it.  Bex! even tried a small piece.  Hot hot hot!

Miss Edith visited with us for a bit.  She asked when we were leaving town.  Alas, tomorrow.  She jokingly said 'Well, you can come back tonight, then!'  We did.  We walked back to the hotel, making a stop at the local grocer for some drinks and travel snacks for the bus trip the next day.  The afternoon led to more relaxing on the balcony, me in the rocking chair, Bex! in a hammock.  Booby joined us for some chill time, too.

Not Bex!

By the way, you read that correctly, above.  We did indeed return to Miss Edith's for dinner.  And we even ordered the same stuff we'd had that first day - coconut curry with smoked chicken for Bex! and jerk chicken for me.  It was as good as the first time and my mouth waters as I type!  After dinner, we sat and chatted with Miss Edith even more.  She is very active in the community and is the president of the school board.  She spearheaded improvements to the local schools, including getting a fence built around the primary school for the safety of the children.  She is tenacious, too - fighting for better facilities for the kids, even when administrators were not siding with her.  And she gets things done!  She was proud of the fact that she holds the purse strings and "… if Miss Edith believes that the expense is best for the children, Miss Edith will write the check."  People like Miss Edith can talk in the 3rd person, with her Caribbean/Garifuna accent, and it's way cool.  If David tries it, David just seems like an idiot.  (See?)  We talked at length about the importance of making sure our children had every opportunity to succeed in life.  She even holds cooking classes for kids, one of her cooks tonight being an alumni and now chief baker for the restaurant.  

As we were saying our goodbyes, I was turning on the charm, being witty and fun.  I had her giggling and telling stories and distracted and… 'So, Miss Edith, what spices did you say you used in your jerk seasoning?'  'Oh, no no no no.  No.'  Damn.  I've lost my mojo.  

Miss Edith! (harsh lighting but wanted you to see this awesome woman)

Since it was out last night, we decided to go have a couple of drinks at Coco's.  As we were walking past the shops near the center of town, Bex! saw a woman tending a clothing store, someone who seemed familiar to her.  We got a little ways past the shop when Bex! stopped and said "I think that was Kika back there!"  Surprised and curious, we backtracked and sure enough, it was the Italian woman we had met on the far opposite coast of Costa Rica on our last border run!!  Small world, right!  She remembered us and was as surprised and happy to see us as we were to see her!  Amazing, and we had a nice visit with her that night.  Crazy, right?

We returned to Coco's for good Caribbean drinks and more music.  Yes on the former; no on the latter.  But it was karaoke night, which was entertaining in its own unique way, as only karaoke can be.  The place was much busier tonight, so we stayed later and had plenty to drink.  Hell, it was our last night in this groovy little town, so why not.

With a midday departure for San Jose, we were able to enjoy a leisurely breakfast at Soda Chocolatte, where we purchased some still-warm-from-the-oven whole wheat rolls for the road.  We checked out of our hotel, said goodbyes to the staff, the hammocks, the rocking chair and the Caribbean - and promised ourselves we would someday return for a longer stay.  

Cahuita was amazing!

We walked to the bus station and dropped some postcards in the mail, since this was one of the few places we'd traveled on this yearlong adventure where we felt the mail actually had a decent chance of making it out of the country.  We passed the time, playing cards until our ride showed up.  At this point in the card game, Bex! was ahead and I was in a major slump!  Thank goodness the bus showed up!  We loaded on and settled in.  Just a short ways out of town, we stopped at a police checkpoint.  Again, I think with the proximity to the Panama-Costa Rica border and an international port in Limón, smuggling is a 'thing'.  A couple of Costa Rica's finest got on, one from the front entrance, one from the rear.  They checked passports and, quietly, pulled two people off the bus!  Better them than us, I suppose.  

It was fun to pass through Puerto Limón in the daylight.  The town was not so busy and bustling as it had been when we came through at night!  But seeing the thousands and thousands of shipping containers and the constant action as we passed by the port was fascinating to the logistics geeks in us.  The bus cruised down the narrow two-lane road toward San Jose.  After a couple of hours, we actually started to recognize the area we were passing through.  In fact, we went very close by the scene of Event 50!

We arrived at the bus terminal, waded through the sea of aggressive taxistas, all looking for a fare.  We hiked a few blocks to get our bearings, not knowing exactly where we were within San Jose proper.  We soon figured out which direction we needed to go, so we started walking.  We got to familiar ground, near the main post office.  From here, we knew for sure where we were - and that it was too far to walk to our hotel, so we hailed a cab.  The driver was very nice, no attempt to up charge us and we had a great conversation.  Like many people have done down here, he complimented Bex! on her Spanish.  She rocks.

We got to Hostel Casa Colon, our go-to place to stay in San Jose.  To save some money, we opted for a small room this time.  But, man, there is small and then there is small.  It was so tiny, most of the floor space was bed, that we almost couldn't be in the room on our feet at the same time.  But… it was also just fine for one night and we had all the amenities we desired.  After freshening up from the bus trip, we walked to the store to get road snacks and some grocery items we have only found in Costa Rica - some spices, mostly.  Oh, and wine.

We sat on the covered balcony at the hotel and watched rush hour traffic on the Paseo Colon - Main Street, if you will.  Horns, horns, horns.  Having refilled our lungs with exhaust fumes, it was time for our highly anticipated culmination to this trip.  With only one evening in San Jose there was no question where we were going for dinner.  The Corner Pizzeria is exceptional!  We ordered a wonderful appetizer - an Italian empanada - melted cheese on the inside.  Mmmm… cheese.  We also had a salad, a couple of pizzas and shared a very nice bottle of Chianti.  It was a slow, relaxing dinner - our last meal on our last border run.  We reminisced about our trip and discussed our upcoming class schedules.  Plus we had volunteers coming in soon, so we talked about that, as well.  It was a great night, topped off with coffee, tea and dessert.

We walked slowly back to the hotel, holding hands and feeling in some ways like we were home.  Comfortable.  While we didn't pursue living in this huge city as we had originally planned, we are confident we would have rocked it.  Back at the room, we watched TV and checked in on wifi.  With an early bus home tomorrow, we showered and went to bed.

We had the included breakfast at the hotel the next morning.  Nothing special but some food was a good idea.  After checking out, we walked the few blocks to the Tica Bus station and went through the familiar drill there - check bags, pay exit taxes, check in at the counter.  After a short wait, we boarded and got comfy for the bus ride north - to our home.  We had an unexpected treat when the video they played for the long ride was 'Star Wars' 
dubbed in Spanish.  Ha!  Great fun!  "Estos no son los robots que está buscando."

Batteries recharged, heading for home!

The bus trip was smooth but we experienced a new procedure when we reached the Nicaragua border.  We got our exit stamps for Costa Rica and got back on the bus for the drive across no man's land to the Nicaraguan immigration and customs area.  Same ol' same ol'.  On our last border run in July, however, we had to fill out a form for the Ministry of Health - usual questions:  do you have a cold or flu-like symptoms, are you suffering from headaches, nausea, etc.  On that trip, a lady presumably from the Ministry of Health got on the bus to ask some questions of the entire group all at once.  I guess if anyone was sick, they were to raise their hand, maybe.  Her questioning seemed to be a mere formality, like she was checking a box on a form.

This time, we again filled out the form, just like the last trip.  But this time the bus stopped part way across the border and they had us all get out.  We had to queue up, have our pictures taken and then submit our form to official looking people wearing surgical masks.  We breezed through but a few people were asked more specific questions.  One of the things they wanted to know for sure was where travelers were heading.  Normally you can just write on the form the name of the city/town/village you'll be in and they don't give it a second look. This time they wanted to know specifically which hotel.  While we don't know for sure, I read later that they were tracking for Ebola reasons.  Plus, we were entering dengue and chikungunya seasons.  Dengue outbreaks filled the hospitals last year at this time. 

After this new rigamarole, we finally got to the Nicaraguan immigration/customs stop.  And this, family and friends, is where - after all our crazy travels and adventures over the past year - we had our first serious issue.  To say that it was terrible would be an understatement.  It breaks my heart just thinking back on it.

If you recall, this is the part of the border crossing process where we get off the bus, collect our bags, line 'em up on the makeshift tables and wait for customs to inspect them.  Well, the customs guys were manhandling the bags and they… they… 

I'm sorry - I need a moment.

(sniff)  Okay.  

They tossed Bex!'s backpack out and broke the bottle of wine she had stashed!!  Oh, the agony!!  

Meh.  We hoped the customs official didn't smell the vino and hold us up - he didn't, so that was good.  While we were waiting, Bex! bought a new watch, too.  We exchanged some Costa Rican colonés for the more familiar Nicaraguan cordobas and bought some fresh roasted cashews from one of the many vendors plying their wares.  After a pretty long wait, we had our passports back and were heading for Rivas. 

Some taxi drivers are awesome, like the guy we had in San Jose.  And then there are the ones like the group that greeted us when we got off the bus in Rivas.  Good lord, they're borderline obnoxious.  I understand they're trying to make a living but when they get pushy, that's where the line is drawn.  Plus they all start so damn high in price, like we don't know better.  We're not the usual first timers, so we know what the rate should be to get us to the port.  Bex! speaks much better Spanish and, boy howdy, does she get stubborn when they started shouting (all at once, mind you) crazy high costs.

We settled on the one guy who came down to a fair cost and we made it to the port, with just a few minutes to spare.  We decided to take a lancha instead of waiting for the ferry.  We wanted to get home.  We noted, sadly, that there were about a bazillion chayules swarming the port.  Hopefully, they were staying on the mainland.  Even though we only had a few minutes, we still found time to buy rosquillos, a tasty little baked snack sold by women who work the ports and bus terminals.  We get 'em every time we take the ferry.

The sky was blue but there were low clouds - we still enjoyed seeing our island in the distance.  We have fun when we travel but it's nice to be home, too.

Crazy gringo photobomb!

Heading straight for the Concepcion Airport… in a boat.

Bex! called our friend, Miguel, to pick us up at the port in Moyogalpa.  He was busy but he sent his buddy, Wilbur, to meet us.  Like any transportation spot in Central America, the taxistas were waiting for tourists to get off the boat.  Bex! whipped out her Spanish to tell them we had a ride - they responded with surprise at her language ability and wished us a good day!

Wilbur dropped us off in town so we could hit the ATM, the farmacia, and the grocery store for supplies.  It was good to be back on the island!  You may recall I mentioned the heavy rains that hit the region when we were in the Solentinames at the beginning of this little adventure.  Well, we were about to see the results of that storm.

We got held up near Santa Teresa.  The backhoes, dump trucks and bulldozers were working nonstop to clear the road.  The devastation was incredible!  We waited 20-25 minutes before they could let us through.  They had one lane open, just barely.

[Note:  Look for a separate blog post about the landslides and the damage.  We went back over on our bikes two weeks after our return to get a close up look.  Stay tuned.]

We could see dirt and rocks all along the road, along with some places where the rain had completely washed out drainage ditches and culverts.  And, man, once we got off the paved section near Santa Cruz… the road was horrible.  Yeah, we've written about the bad road before.  But it was so much worse now.  So much dirt had washed away that even in a 4-wheel drive rig, we had to pick our way through parts of it.  It took a lot longer to get us home and we were grateful for Wilbur!

Hamilton met us at the house and helped us get our stuff inside.  The place was immaculate, of course, and there were even fresh flowers in the house and on the bed to welcome us.  Hamilton and his family take great care of us.  His wife, Maria Estella, brought dinner over a little later, too.

Hamilton had mention that he really likes Imperial, the national beer of Costa Rica.  So he was very happy when we gave him his present.  We would have brought him more, but we were traveling light!

One for each hand!

And… that's the end of our last border run adventure!  It was epic in every way.  We saw a lot of new places, met some great people and made new friends.  We will definitely return to the Rio San Juan and Cahuita someday!  

But for now… there's no place like home.

Videos from Adventuras Acuáticas

While you're anxiously awaiting the final installment of Adventuras Acuáticas, here are a couple of unedited videos from our trip.  Don't worry, though - Capitulo Cuatro is coming soon! 

In the meantime - enjoy!

David and Bex!

*****     *****     *****     *****

A snippet of the rapida trip from El Castillo to San Carlos.

Video from one of the ferry crossings.  To get a true sense of how rough the water was this day, pop a Dramamine, put the video on full screen, sit really close to your monitor and keep your eye on the horizon…  pitch… and roll… pitch… and roll...

Adventuras Acuáticas: Capitulo Tres - From El Castillo to Cahuita, Costa Rica

[continued from Capitulo Dos]  The boat again stopped in Boca de Sabalos and, yes, we still very much want to come back to explore this town.  And to see El Castillo again, of course.

But for now, our border run adventure would take us to…

…to… to… (wait for it!) to… okay, nothing too cool just yet.  We just went back to San Carlos for the night.  Check out the Garmin map here.

We noticed on the boat trip back upriver that there was a LOT of debris in the water, especially coming out from the Rio Sabalos.  Our river pilot had to slow down and pick his way through the deadwood a couple of times.  The heavy rain over the past few days had let loose all kinds of detritus! 

The rapida got us back to San Carlos before noon and we walked across town to get checked in at the Hotel Gran Lago, a reservation we had made prior to our trip to El Castillo.  We relaxed in the room a bit, checked the ol' wifi and freshened up prior to heading out for lunch.  We had plans to visit this cool little European place that, by reviews online, seemed promising and a unique change of pace, culinary-wise.  Schnitzel??!  Plus the restaurant is located near the mercado, and you know how we love us some mercado!

Wear insulated gloves when you take energia en sus manos

The market was the usual hustle bustle - we didn't go in, just skirted the edges.  We hit a farmacia for more bug bite anti-itch cream, too.  [Note to Anne and Mike:  I think Bex! is addicted.  We'll talk more when we get back.  I'm thinking intervention.]  We finally arrived at the restaurant - Parador Berlin - only to find it closed and boarded up.  Drats!  We walked back toward the hotel but first stopped at a licoria to buy a bottle of wine from the very surprised proprietress ("What?!  No rum?!").  Still hungry, we figured we'd find a place to eat along the way.  Then we recalled that earlier, at out hotel, while we were checking out the rooftop deck, we heard the magical sound of a cocktail shaker in action.  Right across the street from our hotel is the Hotel Orosco and they have a restaurant on the third floor.  From the roof of our place, we could look right into it.  So we went there for lunch.  

Perusing the menu, I found what I wanted almost immediately, although I only ordered it because the name was funny.  I ordered the Chicken Gordon Blue.  Yes, that is spelled just as it was on the menu.  It was the same dish we'd get in the states under the boring name 'chicken cordon bleu', just with a way better name.  Bex! again ordered pollo jalapeño but it didn't stack up very well to what she'd had in El Castillo.  I admit I was slightly disappointed that the chef didn't come out to check on us and introduce himself as 'Gordon… Gordon Blue.  Damn glad to meet ya!'.

Disclaimer:  This dish is an original culinary creation of Nicaragua and any similarity to other dishes, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The restaurant here is open and airy, with great views.  We played cards (I was still holding a lead, although barely) and enjoyed the fresh air afforded by being up high with all the openness - i.e. no windows.  One thing we noticed from up here was more cannons nearby!  There was a small artillery unit on this hill, sort of a last chance to shoot at any bad guys who made it past El Castillo.  These were aimed at the point where the Rio San Juan begins its journey to the Caribbean.

Now, this here is your standard Type D cannon.  But let me show you the deluxe model...

After lunch we walked to the waterfront to check the boat schedules for getting across the border to Los Chiles, Costa Rica - perhaps the coolest border crossing option in Central America.  Alas, this crossing may go away if Nicaragua and Costa Rica ever get things worked out for the new Puente Santa Fe crossing.  The posted schedule said 11 AM for the next day, which would be perfect.  Errands and food completed, it was time to veg out for a bit.  We went back to the hotel and borrowed a couple of glasses from downstairs, then went up on the roof to take in the breeze, the views and the sunset.  

The rooftop is awesome, although there are no railings of any sort.  Railings are so… USA.  Gawd.  Really, though, I love how the culture in this part of the world is based on 'Don't be stupid'.  I wish the US took this approach instead of, say, removing playground equipment for liability reasons.   But oh well.  The view from the roof was impressive!  We watched the afternoon fishermen returning home and we could see quite a few of the Solentiname Islands from up here.  

My pride still stinging from the 'archipelago' fiasco, I was ever on the lookout for an opportunity to score a win.  I finally realized this victory when I pointed out that way across the lake we could see Isla de Ometepe - our home.  Bex! didn't agree that it was Ometepe, arguing that it couldn't be in that direction.  We debated a bit, discussing the direction we had traveled on the ferry, geometry, how much wine was left, the position of the setting sun, etc. and she finally admitted that I was right.  It was indeed Ometepe.  Score one for me!!  [Bex!'s rebuttal:  Okay, honey.  I'll let you have this one.]  We enjoyed our vino, which  suddenly tasted much sweeter to me.  Mmmm - victory.  And then we hit San Carlos to find dinner.

Ometepe!

Restaurant Kaoma looked neat and had a nice location with good views.  Like most restaurants here, it's up a couple of flights of stairs, allowing for cool views of the malecón (waterfront).  The food was good, nothing outstanding, but certainly tasty.  Their menu also had a Chicken Gordon Blue but I didn't order it.  The thing that made the evening here especially memorable wasn't the food but the Ricardo Arjona music videos they were playing.  This guy is what you'd get if Jack Johnson, Shakira, and sappy-love-ballad era Bryan Adams had a baby.  It was really cool, actually, and we will be downloading some of his music.

Our hopes of falling asleep to crime dramas on AXN didn't pan out.  The TV in the room had crappy reception and only a handful of channels.  But we had AC and hot water, although the pressure was minimal.  I know it sounds a little whiny, but considering where we live, these trips are a chance to spoil ourselves a little - hot water, cable television, etc.  We look forward to these treats; being deprived of them is a tiny letdown.

We had a nice leisurely Sunday morning.  After packing up, we walked the malecón and ate breakfast at a soda on the waterfront next to the dock we'd soon be departing from.  After food, we went to the immigration/customs office and were disappointed to find out that the posted schedule was incorrect.  Our 11 AM departure wasn't actually leaving until 12:30PM.  There was a benefit to the delay - we were still in town when the clerk from the hotel came running over to the customs office.  We had forgotten to return the room key!  Oops!  After that excitement, there was nothing left to do but wait.  We drowned our sorrows in fresh fruit smoothies, playing cards to while away the time.  Eventually, it was time and we got stamped out of Nicaragua and boarded the boat that would take us up the Rio Frio to Los Chiles (see the Garmin map of the day).

Collecting more stamps!

The Rio Frio starts near the middle of the image by the buildings and goes to the left.

Most all of the boats we've been on in Nicaragua have life jackets.  We see them stashed but (thankfully) have never needed to use one, although on a couple of occasions during rough water, I made sure to pre-plan a route to a life jacket and an exit!  We'd never been up the Rio Frio, although we knew it was a smaller river.  It surprised us, then, when the copilot walked down the aisle of the boat, handing out life jackets and telling everyone to put them on.

Um… yikes.

Rough water ahead?  Rapids?  River monsters?  We didn't know, so we followed instructions and donned our chalecos.  As it turned out, the life jackets were only required to be worn juuuust long enough for us to nose up to the Nicaraguan military outpost marking the border with Costa Rica so the pilot could hand off a copy of the passenger list.  Once we were out of sight, the copilot collected all the life jackets and stuffed them into a Hefty bag for storage. Ha!

Los Chiles was much closer than we thought.  We'd read that the river trip takes a couple of hours but we were pulling up to the dock in about an hour.  We heard a large troop of howler monkeys in the trees as the boat docked and kids were swimming in the river, doing cannonballs off the shore.  Everyone lined up at a folding table that was customs for bag inspections.  My honest face got us waved through immediately.  During the boat trip we had chatted with a US expat named 'Bob'.  'Bob' is in quotes because he had to seriously think of his name when I asked the really tough question "What's your name?"  "Um, (think think think) ...Bob."  He had been living in Costa Rica for 10-12 years, I think, and was returning from making his border run.  He seemed burned out on living down here, not excited about much of anything in Central America.  He appeared to be in a rut, much like if he had a drab 9-5 job in the states.  Regardless, he was a big help to us because he had made this run many times.  After customs, we followed him a few blocks into town where we paid a municipal tax; then it was on to immigration for entry stamps into CR.  

To make the jaunt through Los Chiles more interesting, I forgot to mention that it had started raining pretty damn hard as soon as we got off the boat, which added to the urgency to get through lines and onto the next step in the days itinerary.  After waiting for a bit at immigration, we were ready for the bus terminal, which we found out was maybe a kilometer away - and it was coming down harder than ever.  Our new friend, veteran border crosser 'Bob' snagged a taxi and waved us in to share the ride.  He even paid for the short trip to the terminal!  

And, hell, as our travel luck would have it the bus we needed to catch arrived a few minutes later!  We thanked 'Bob' for the travel advice and the taxi ride, bid him safe travels and settled into for the trip to Muelle de San Carlos - or Ciudad Quesada.  One of these towns would be our layover for the day.

[Note:  This is the part of the blog where we would ask our dear friends at the Poás Lodge - Stephan,  Jimmie, Gertie, Don - to just skim down a ways.  We passed within spittin' distance of you guys!  But we were on a mission to see the Caribbean, had limited time - and we hope you can appreciate that!  Don't worry - you're not rid of us forever.  We WILL be back!]

Our backpacks had been stashed below in the under-bus luggage area, so each and every time the bus stopped to pick up/drop off we were watching to make sure our bags didn't get unloaded 'by mistake'.  Hate to be paranoid, but it happens - caution and awareness is always best.  Not knowing how the bus schedules worked on Sundays we decided to stay the night in the first town we would hit, Muelle de San Carlos.  After checking with the driver a few times, he dropped us off at the intersection of highways 32 and 4, which meant about as much to us as it does to you.  We were wondering if it had been such a good idea to get off a perfectly good bus in the middle of nowhere.

At the intersection, there was a grocery store, a gas station/auto shop that also worked on big rigs, a liquor store/minimart and maybe a handful of other businesses.  Hmmm…  We asked a nice young man if there were any hotels nearby and he smiled as he pointed to the logo on his very fancy polo shirt - the Tilijari Resort and Spa.  Yes, he said, the place he worked was close by.  We didn't want to spend a gajillion dollars on one night, so we were scratching our heads as to what to do, when Bex! saw a sign right next to the liquor store that advertised rooms for rent.  Figuring it was worth a shot, the place turned out to be an actual hotel a block off the highway, behind the hustle and bustle, and the rooms were awesome, as was the price.  Plus, the liquor store/minimart was, like, right there!  Perfect!

Which filter makes a truck stop look more glamorous?  #lipstickonapig

The familia Ruma apparently runs this area of Muelle de San Carlos.  Their name was on several of the businesses - the licorera, the hotel, the minimart, the gas station/service center.  After we settled into the room and with dark fast approaching, we thought we'd grab a bite to eat.  We walked north, back the way we'd traveled on the bus and had a decent dinner at Restaurante y Bar La Subasta.  Subasta is Spanish for 'auction' and the upstairs dining room of this restaurant overlooked a bullpen.  There was even stadium-stye seating for the cattle auctions held here.  There was no auction this day, unfortunately.  But the food was good, the meat portions were large, the beer was cold and, as we realized, they were nice enough to serve us even though we kept them a little late after their normal closing time.  We tipped appropriately.

We walked back to the hotel, but hit the store for snacks and alcohol.  It was beer for me; Bex! was very excited that she found this to drink:

A nice change of pace, indeed.

In fact, my beer and her wine tasted so good that we went back to the minimart/liquor store for refills - and so she could do this:

Did I mention that we slept well that night?

Between the after dinner drinks, AC, a nice shower and some TV, we indeed slept very well.  We needed the rest for the travel day we had ahead of us.  Up early the next morning, we dropped the key off at the front desk/check out counter of the liquor store and asked if there was a bus running east.  Nope.  We were told our best bet would be to continue south to Ciudad Quesada, where the larger bus depot was and where we could get where we wanted to get, get it?  We popped into the grocery store for breakfast-type snacks and other junk food to get us through the day.  After a short wait at the bus stop, we were back on the road.

To assist you in following along, our goal today was to travel via bus:

Muelle de San Carlos to Ciudad Quesada;
Ciudad Quesada to Puerto Viejo de Sarapiqui
Puerto Viejo de Sarapiqui to Guapiles;
Guapiles to Puerto Limon;
and finally, Puerto Limon to Cahuita on the southern Caribbean coast of Costa Rica.

Will our intrepid travelers still be smiling at the end of the day?  Stay tuned!

We gained a fair amount of elevation on the way to Ciudad Quesada.  When we got to the terminal, we saw we had a couple of hours until the next leg of the adventure.  We really had no idea how far we'd get in one day.  It would all depend on bus schedules that were mostly unknown to us as well as the timing of our arrival at one stop and the departure to the next.  As we pieced it together after the trip, we realized we did pretty well.  We couldn't have gotten much further than Muelle de San Carlos or Ciudad Quesada the previous day, anyway.  And given the waning daylight, it was smart to stop early to find a hotel rather than be stuck somewhere unfamiliar at night.  Plus we caught the same bus we would have caught out of Ciudad Quesada anyway, so it was a wash. 

We made Puerto Viejo just fine, except we had another two hour wait.  Too many of those would hinder travel but we had no choice.  Besides, it gave us time to have lunch and stretch our legs.  The trip to Guapiles went pretty quick and things got interesting from here on out.  

The Guapiles terminal was much busier than the others we'd hit this day.  This terminal was a hub, so there are different bus companies heading in all different directions, and they have assigned bays in the terminal.  Their schedules are posted above their respective bank of parking spots.  We walked the length of the depot and discovered that if we hustled we could just make a bus to Puerto Limon leaving in just a few minutes.  Otherwise we had another wait ahead of us.  To conquer, we divided - I got in the ticket line and Bex! scouted the parking area to see exactly which bus was the one we wanted.  She got varying answers - ugh.  But we got tickets and even had time to buy a couple of bottles of water before getting on the bus we needed.  Whew! 

One thing we do well when we travel is make friends.  We met another 'travel angel' on the bus to Puerto Limon.  This is a bustling city, one of the largest on the Caribbean, at about 60,000 people.  It is the home of many produce processing and export companies.  Dole, Del Monte, Chiquita all have facilities here - pineapple, bananas, coffee.  Ships head out from the port to all points on the globe.  Thousands upon thousands of containers are stacked in yards along the roads leading into the city.  It was impressive!

Our bus dropped us at their terminal and we knew from the research we'd done that the bus we needed to get was a few blocks away.  But once we got off the bus, we had no clue which direction to go.  It was dark, the terminal was crazy busy, we were being solicited for all kinds of things - everything from taxi rides to souvenirs to drugs to who knows what else was being shouted.  It was nuts and we were not feeling like we were in a safe enough place to put our bags down and dig out the map.  Then this nice man we had chatted with on the bus walked up to us and told us to follow him closely.  He hurried through the crowds, with us right on his heels.  

Turns out he was headed for the same bus we were, his destination being one of the small villages south of Cahuita.  He blocked traffic, waved us through, held off the riffraff that seemed to be everywhere and led us to the bus terminal we needed.  We got tickets, had enough time to use the restroom and get more water, then got on the bus with our new friend and were on the road after about 10 minutes.  Without his help, we would never have caught this bus, the last for the night heading south.  The fact that this guy stopped on his travels, risked missing his chance to get home just to help us was admirable.  We've had many experiences like this but this man was exceptionally helpful to us.  We couldn't thank him enough, so we'll look for opportunities to pay it forward.

And… we ended up making it all the way to Cahuita in one day!!

[Note:  Okay, Stephan, Jimmie, Gertie, Don - you can start reading again from here]

"And that's how we caught a helicopter ride from Los Chiles all the way to Cahuita."

Here's how the Garmin captured out 5 bus day:  Muelle de San Carlos to Cahuita

We got off the bus in Cahuita and headed into town on foot.  The terminal is a couple of blocks from the main drag.  This is a tiny town, it was late and we had a general idea which way to go.  We got to the main road and walked in the direction we thought we needed to be going to get the hotel we had in mind.  Yeah, this is the part where being travel weary led to bad decision making.  We were both fried from the long day.  We couldn't quite get our bearings, although we did find the town center.  No street signs, no idea which way to go, tired and hungry for real food, not sure what time the town would shut down, we bagged the idea of finding the place we wanted and just picked a place that was, hey, look, right in front of us.  Bad idea.  It was called Sam's Cabinas Safari - or as we called it after the fact, Sam's Crack and Smack Shack.  Ugh.  It would do for the night, but just barely.

We walked back into town and had dinner at Riki's.  There wasn't much open, so choices were limited which was a good thing.  Our ability to make choices was drained.  It was a quiet dinner - we were both road weary.  Full stomachs made falling asleep in our dirty, creepy room a little easier.  

And, hey, we made it!!  All in one day, all the way to the Caribbean!  Tomorrow would be a better day!

[continued in Adventuras Acuáticas:  Capitulo Cuatro]