Playa Guiones, Playa Langosta, and Playa Grande

Miracles do happen. Greggy and I, after dropping Aaron off for the bus back to San Jose, headed to Nosara for a night at the Guilded Iguana and a day at Playa Guionnes. Our goal was to get some waves, sun, and let Greggy try to learn how to surf. It rained the entire night, and morning, but somehow cleared up for some beach time. We headed out to the stirred up, crazy waves crashing in, where I did a mini session to feel out my injured arm, and then took Greggy out into the waves with the board. Upon returning from his session, he commented that it's much harder than it looks - I agree Greggy, indeed it is. Surfing is certainly not for the faint at heart! From Nosara, we decided to attempt the beach road up to Brasilito, which was quite the adventure! Since the rainy season had come early and strong, the rivers were at the 'iffy' stage, however we managed to cross them all successfully, not without timely contemplation however. With Greg at the wheel, we had to discuss our plan of attack at a couple of crossings with locals who each had advice on which line to take, and how quickly to drive through. Each car we passed on the way up the coast was interested in hearing how we managed crossing the river they were about to approach. Nonetheless, we made it to beautiful Brasilito and made day trips into Tamarindo and Playa Grande for walks on beach, important shopping, and a trade in of my two un-needed 10-foot long leashes (thanks to Merc for leaving a brand new 7-foot leash with me) for a sexy and soft little surfer/salsa dress in a Playa Grande surf shop. One of my best trades yet!

Volcan Arenal

The journey up to Volcan Arenal is beautiful, with a very scenic and winding drive around large and scenic Lake Arenal. Having been lucky enough to have my good friend Aaron and my brother Greg come visit me in Costa Rica at the same time, I decided it would be a good time for me to actually venture out away from my the beach for a change. The journey was well worth the trip. Aaron flew in to San Jose, and I picked him up in Quepos. We immediately headed up the coast toward Liberia to pick up Greggy the next day. Unfortunately, the direct road up to Liberia was stacked with miles and miles of cars due to road construction, and we ended up having to take the ferry from Puntarenas to the peninsula, and driving up the west side instead. We reached the airport about 30-minutes after Greg's flight got in, and missed him, as he had taken a cab into Liberia when we were not there to meet him. After some frantic searching and trying to find each other, we connected in an internet cafe and headed to Canas for the night. We stayed in an overpriced run-down hotel, which allowed us just enough sleep to arise the next day, grab some coffee and breakfast, and head for Arenal. All was well until our gas tank began to leak after a long climb up toward Arenal. We found the closest mechanic who turned out to be very helpful and advised us to continue on with our journey, as the tank had a small open hole in the top, and since we'd just filled up the tank before climbing the steep and winding path upwards, the gas was leaking out the top. He advised us not to fill it all the way up next time and he was right, no more problems - thank goodness! On beautiful road which winds around the lake, we found a great place to stay with a perfect view of the volcano right from our back porch. When it rained, we played cards, and when it was clear, we did a waterfall cascade trip which turned out to be a blast. To our surprise, we were blessed with a large eruption the morning we were packing up to head out to Monte Verde, again, seen right from our very own patio. Growling, steam, and a perfect view made our trip to Arenal and La Fortuna extra coolio and well worth the trip!

Santa Catalina and into Costa Rica

I’m pretty sure that the stars were in perfect alignment, because the six-transfer bus trip went more smoothly than I could have ever imagined. A complete turn-around from the trip to Venao. We caught the 9:30 am bus from the beach, hopped directly onto the next bus in Pedasi, the bus guys took me directly on to the next bus in Las Tablas for Chitre, from Chitre to Santiago which was waiting for the last passenger which was me, from Santiago, the next bus to Sona which also had to wait for me to take a pit stop, and from Sona to Santa Catalina by 5:30 pm, without any waiting or troubles with either Josh or the surfboard. I’m still having a difficult time understanding how it all happened so smoothly and only took eight hours. I fully expected to stay the night in either Santiago or Sona’ because the very last bus of the day from Sona to Catalina is at 4 pm, but I was lucky enough to have caught it at exactly the right time! Yippee!

Catalina was a great time. I ‘attempted’ to surf the world class Santa Catalina point break the first two days, and took to the beach break at Playa Estero the third day after being thrown around in the washing machine of the break more than once and having the locals stare in awe that I came out without much damage, as lots of people apparently get banged up by the reef on the bottom after getting swallowed up in that same spot. Although the beach break was a good 35 to 40 minute walk away from town, I had a great session before heading out for Chiriqui at 2 pm.

Catalina was a powerful point break wave, with nice and helpful people out on the wave each day. On the world class point break, where many competitions are held, I tried to stay out of the way and catch what I could when vacant, but was encouraged each day by great surfers who helped me catch a couple, not without being put through the giant 'washing machine' several times however. After a good 20-minute paddle out to the break through lots of rocks, my little paddling arms were pretty darn tired by the time I got out there and was forced to rest for another 20-minutes before even attempting to catch my first ride. My final day I decided to hit the beach break at Playa Estero. A fellow traveler and I walked the 35-minutes to Playa Estero from our hostel, and I had a blast, as the waves weren't too huge, but were definitely plentiful. Three buses brought us to the city of David at 8:30 pm, with the nice surprise of bumping into a Rasta that I met and paid to make Josh a leash at the fair in Los Santos two weeks prior. I got to hang with Rasta and his friend who ‘gifted’ Josh a matching collar to wear with his Rasta colored hand woven leash. We officially changed Josh’s name to Pedro Tosh from that time forward (Pedro is Peter in Spanish). Josh is indeed a total Rasta dog – I never realized what a cool ‘religion’ Rasta is until hanging with all the local Rastas in this area. I have a much deepened respect for it all, and Pedro Tosh is a true believer and follower of Rasta. He's my little travelin’ Rasta doggie. I worked a plan with a local Gringo, who needed to cross into CR the same day as I for visa purposes, who brought my board up to David a couple of days later, so that I could travel into the highlands of Boquete without having to pack my board along. This worked out perfectly, as he picked me up in David, with my board in truck, we found a hotel right near the border to leave his truck at for a mere $10 for three days until he had to return, and then took a cab to the border, checked out of Panama and into Costa Rica, switched taxis, tied the surf baords to the roof, and headed for Pavones. As soon as we pulled into the Las Perlas hotel, where Vince was staying, my good friend Merc, who I'd planned to find once I got into town, just happened to be passing by at the same moment as Vince was checking into his hotel and I was waiting in the taxi. The three Mikes from Florida had a beautiful beach house rented out for us already, and I was living in luxury for the first time since leaving the Dominican Republic. Yippee! The Mikes are all amazing surfers and gave me some great pointers to help me improve. When we weren't surfing, we were eating great food or playing cards. From Pavones we headed in their huge Toyota Landcruiser up to Dominical where I was feasted upon by swarms of mosquitos from the time we arrived, until the time we left Dominical. From Dominical, to Manuel Antonio to surf Playitas, where Merc had managed to wrench his back the week prior, and I managed to do some serious damage to my left arm, which I later learned would end my surfing for the rest of my travels and continue to cause pain and havoc whenever in use. Still had a great time though, staying in beautiful hotels, eating great food, and grabbing good surf. Those Florida boys sure do know how to live it up - thanks for hosting me to an excellent four days Merc, Mike #1, and Catfish! You guys are top-notch in my book.

Pedasi and Playa Venao

Ty and Isha shared a twin sized bed the first night and I took the other, while Josh took Isha’s super soft blanket on the floor. The next day we all moved over to a much larger room with a double bed, two twin beds, and a roll out bed for the same price. Josh again took the floor on Isha’s comfy fleece blanky, she insisted was no problem for him to crash on. We enjoyed this set up for five days and nights, until I decided to stay in a Cabana right on the beach in front of the surf break. Extremely basic, but no better location for waking up and stumbling a whole 10 steps to the water for surf in the morning. Josh liked our dawn and dusk walks on the beach every day, and hanging out under the rancho with the other surfers during the day, snatching any morsels of food handed out, and sipping off of the Abuelo rum bottles left by other surf heads. The stars were amazing at night time, as the beach is 45-minutes away from the small town of Pedasi which doesn’t put off much light anyway. We had crabs join us in the cabana every night, and fellow surfers join us each day. Besides the lack of food and availability in getting any besides the ‘plate of the day’ cooked up at the rancho, consisting usually of rice, and either fried pork, fish, or chicken, the accommodations were perfect, even if bare.

Having had to sit Saturday out, due to the large swell that hit the area and challenged even the best surfers around, I caught a ride into Pedasi to check email and get a non-fried meal. I did only a mini session before sunset, and on Sunday morning, Josh and I set out for Santa Catalina. Ready or not.....ok, we were ready!

Traveling and the Journey from El Palmar to Pedasi

One of the things I like best about traveling, is hearing lots of stories by and about other travelers. I’m amazed at how many people I meet along the way who also are making a mini-career out of traveling, a non-salaried mini-career, of course. The information exchanged through other travelers is invaluable, but I’m talking of the crazy-ass stories that you think of time and again long after they are told.

Within the past week and a half, I’ve met five Vancouver Islanders (three separate groups who didn’t know each other), and I’ve liked every single one of them. I’ve learned that Vancouver Island is definitely NOT the same as Vancouver. I’ve met three people from Vancouver and found only one to be half-way pleasant (two of them stiffed me for their share of our lengthy bus ride to Pedasi). I’ve decided to place Vancouver Island as one of my first trips north once I return back home.

The journey from El Palmar to Pedasi was long, much more difficult than it should have been, and frustrating to say the least. I headed up the road for the bus stop at 7:30 am, intending to drop little Josh to Coronado in hopes that the vet could eventually find him a home. While walking up the road with trusty Tomaso, however, I was convinced that it would be best to take Josh along on the journey, so at 8:00 am, Josh, Tomaso, and I waited for the bus to Los Santos or Las Tablas. None had come by 9:15 am and Tomaso had to go into town (San Carlos) to pay bills so we said our goodbyes, but when he passed by on his way back to El Palmar, an hour later, I was still there waiting. One bus had come and gone – already full. He waited a bit longer, but no bus, so we said goodbye again, still no bus. Finally after running his last errand around the corner from the bus stop, he returned and I again was still there – surfboard, puppy, backpack, and laptop computer. After the third goodbye around 11:00 am, he went back home and I continued to wait. At noon I was joined by a Canadian from Vancouver, B.C., also headed for Playa Venao. About 15 minutes later two other Canadian surfers (also from B.C.) joined us in waiting for the bus toward Venao, when I told them I’d been there since 8:00 am, they decided that we needed to take a bus to the next small town in order to catch the right bus. Knowing that this was not true, I went along anyway, just to get heading in the right direction. From there, we took three more busses in order to get to where the correct bus would have taken us, but was always too full. After the fourth bus loaded with four gringos, three surfboards, seven bags, and a sick dog, along with all the locals crammed inside, we finally made it to Pedasi around 5:00 pm. Having been stiffed with my delightful Canadian companions on bus fare, I parted from them immediately upon arrival, and met two other Canadians, Isha and Ty, both with great attitudes, very pleasant and friendly, contagiously happy, and excited to be beginning their first trip ever to the ‘Tropics’ in Panama, and willing to share their room with me for the night. Since the towns’ three inns were either full or unwilling to accept Josh, and I knew I had no interest in sharing space with the first three Canadians from the trip to Venao, I took them up on their offer.