Afternote on packing

WARNING: LIST IS NOT COMPLETE

While it's still fresh in my mind I thought it might be useful for the future trips (which there WILL be, lots of...I have to keep telling myself to keep my spirits up) and maybe for someone else too to go through my packing list and see what was useful and what I'd do differently.

Clothes:

• 1 pair of black trousers/shorts with legs that zip off (VERY useful)
• 1 pair of comfy beige cotton trousers (great)
• 1 pair of "respectable" looking dark green linen trousers (looked great before the trip but not so good un-ironed, so wouldn't take with me again)
• 1 pair of black under-the-knee-cotton "capris" (great)
• 1 yellow dress (not very dressy, used a couple of times, could've done without it)
• 1 green vest top (great, could've done with another one as well)
• 1 red sleeveless summer top (great)
• 1 normal t-shirt (ditto)
• 1 yellow cotton short-sleeved shirt (my favourite)
• 1 dark blue "baggy" cotton t-shirt (great for bus journeys and hiding the money belt)
• 1 turquoise cotton shirt with collar and long sleeves (cheap make, lost its shape after 1st washing so didn't use much)
• 1 "going-out" polka dot sleeveless top (which took no room in the bag and was allowed for that reason only!)
• 1 green soft cotton kaftan-style long sleeved top (great until it got ripped in laundry)
• 1 snuggly purple hoodie (my only 'jacket' and it was priceless)
• 4 pairs of underpants (I'd take more next time, they really don't take much room and it's a pain to keep having to wash them all the time)
• 1 pair of good-quality hiking socks (moisture-absorbent, worked a treat)
• 2 pairs of normal black socks (1 pair would've been enough, only used on the flights!)
• Hat (priceless)
• Silk pyjama trousers + old T-shirt for sleeping in (good choice)
• Worn black jumper that is thin (i.e. doesn't take much room) but still warm (used a couple of times at night plus on airplanes and was grateful for it)
  
• Hiking boots/trainers (fab)
• Flip-flops (made a mistake of taking a brand new pair with me which ended up rubbing my feet so badly I had to throw them away and buy another pair)
• Soft leather black ballerinas (fab)
• Pack-away rain jacket (came in handy too)
• Short sleeved rash-vest for surfing (next time I'd take a long sleeved one to protect from the sun)
• Surfing shorts
  
• Bikini
• Swimming costume
  

Equipment

• Mosquito net (used 3 times, would take again and made me wonder why they are not more widely used in Finland???)
• Sleeping bag liner (more a luxury item, not really needed but sometimes it was nice to have my own 'sheets' when the hostel ones looked a bit manky)
• Inflatable travel pillow (good for the bus journeys)
  
• Dry-fast towel (what a great invention)
• Water-bottle (plastic ones are just as good. I lost mine and didn't miss it)
• Head-torch (best thing EVER)
• Padlock (used both for luggage and hostel lockers, a MUST)
• Fits-all-doors-lock (didn't use once)
• 1 money-belt (good, used mainly on bus journeys to keep in money, passport and cards)
• 1 neck-wallet (bad, as so bulky it's way obvious to make any difference - ended up never using it)
• 1 purse (for keeping spending money in)
• 1 pink document wallet (came free with Marie Claire a few years ago) - good for storing flight details, travel cheques, travel insurance papers, hostel booking forms etc
• Camera
  
• Sturdy camera case
  
• spare battery (one of my better ideas!)
  
• spare memory card (was definitely needed)
  
• USB memory card reader (such a useful little thing)
  
• camera battery charger
  
• old mobile phone (which didn't work at all in Central America)
• phone charger
• adapter
• mini sewing kit (was needed when my bag burst)
• 
  
• 
  

Books and publications

• Lonely Planet Costa Rica (next time would go for another brand of travel guide - found LP a bit rubbish)
• Lonely Planet Nicaragua & El Salvador
• LP New York encounter (has the worst & most inaccurate maps ever)
• The Island by Victoria Hislop (ok, but nothing speacial really)
• Jaguar Smile by Salman Rushdie (still haven't started it...)
• The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo (started about 3 years ago and once again failed to finish it...)
• The Notebook by Eeva (which I sadly lost a week into the journey)
• Research International pocket diary (waste of space, although I used the world map in it once to point out Finland)
  
  

The Streets of New York

Granada - New York - London

I wake up in the middle of the night and realise that this is it, my journey had come to an end. I take my bag and close the door behind me. The little pool is glittering in the moonlight, no-one else is up yet. In the distance, I can hear loud snoring. It's the night guard who was supposed to make sure I was up. That's one thing I've definitely learned here: never trust the hostel's 'wake-up call' system...
There's me and another lady waiting for the airport shuttle to pick us up at 4am. She's an old acquaintance of mine, we already met in Ometepe where we shared a taxi once before. I'm so used to bumping into the same people now that it doesn't really surprise me anymore.
Five past four, no sign of the shuttle. Normally I wouldn't think anything of it, but bow I'm getting very nervous. We don't have a lot of time to wait. If it doesn't show up, there's no alternative either at this time of night.
I go to wake up the guard, and manage to express my worries to him. He shrugs, and says to give it 10 minutes.
10 minutes later, still no shuttle. It's now 4.15am. The American lady wants the night guard to do something about it. Of course, he doesn't speak English and doesn't have a clue what she wants him to do. Luckily I'm practically fluent in Spanish by now: Senor, telefono paxeos, por favor. Aeropuerto, (hand signing for an airplane taking off), a la seis!
He makes a phone call. It's on it's way. And soon we hear the brakes shrieking outside. The driver looks embarrassed. He's determined to make up for the lost time, and what follows is one of the most exciting car journeys ever. Me and the American lady are hanging on to the seats with both hands, as the driver shoots down the highway. As there's hardly any traffic, he makes the most out of it. We pass a few horse drawn carriages, nearly knocking one of them down. There are lots of people on the side of the highway waiting for a bus, or just someone to pick them up. There are more and more of shacks built on the roadside as we approach Managua, the capital of Nicaragua. It's a very poor town, often cited as one of the most dangerous in the world. I remember reading about regular robberies on the road leading to the airport. Well, there's no way anyone will be able to stop this car, that's for sure!

We make it to the airport in plenty of time. As soon as I step inside the terminal building, I leave Nicaragua behind and step to the world of an anonymous, spotlessly white airport, that could be anywhere in the world. It's hard to believe that just a few hundred metres away there are people living in so much poverty, and here the cheapest thing on the duty-free is a Toblerone bar costing $2.50. That would probably buy a week's worth of food to a family. I feel guilty when I buy that Toblerone bar and some Cuban cigars ($5) with the last of my cordobas. I wish I'd thrown the money out of the window on the way to the airport.

I don't like this world of spotlessly clean white tiles, people in suits and elevator music. I miss the hustle and bustle of the streets in Granada. I sit down near my gate and feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. I have to find a ladies room and have a little cry. I can't help the tears. I don't want to go. I'm not ready yet. I sob away in the toilet cubicle when I hear a few people walking in. Ok, I have to pick myself up now. I wait for them to leave so I can wash my face but it turns out that they're two air hostesses who've come to the ladies to gossip and to do their make-up. About 20 minutes later, they're still there and I'm still in the cubicle too embarrassed to come out now. The situation is getting rather comic, and at least I'm not crying anymore.

I can't wait for much longer if i want to make it to this flight. In the end, I have to come out. They give me some strange looks, which in all honesty I deserve.

I watch the dry land, the mountains and the lakes disappear in the distance, until I'm in the clouds.

I change planes in the George Bush International airport at Houston, Texas. Welcome to the United Sates of America, a friendly immigration offer tells me in a broad Texas accent. I get images of him in a cowboy hat riding a horse in an oilfield (yes I obviously watched too much Dallas when I was little).

Soon I'm standing in the middle of Manhattan, feeling completely surreal. I hang on to Minni's sleeve while Tero confidently navigates the streets, and I'm happy I'm with people who will do all the thinking for me until I've recovered. People everywhere. The lights of the Times Square make me blind, and London's own little Piccadilly suddenly seems laughably small in comparison. This is more like Tokyo.

Talk about a culture shock.

But it's strangely cool. Also strangely familiar. We've all been in New York already, though the countless films and TV series set there. And it really is like in the films. The taxis are yellow, although more polished than the ones I remember from the Taxi Driver.


There is steam rising from the ventilators on the streets, and there are amusing 'no standing anytime' signs everywhere. The buildings have fire escapes in the outside, etc, etc. And then there are the skyscrapers, that make Canary Wharf feel like a joke.



It doesn't take long for me to get back to my old consumer/fun-minded self, and as I'm knocking back Manhattans in a bar a few hours later, Nicaragua seems a distant memory.

Except that I'm finding it difficult to get rid of the habit of throwing the toilet paper in the bin next to the toilet. It took me a long time and a few blocked toilets to get the hang of it in Central America, and now that I'm finally doing it automatically I have to try hard to forget it again...

New York was amazing, but three days didn't do it justice. I saw Moma, Central park, wandered the streets and visited the bars and restaurants of Greenwich Village, Meatpackers distict, Willamsburgh. Spent a lot of time in the Moma shop. Saw a lot of orthodox jews. I never made it to Brooklyn Bridge, nor the Empire state building, nor the Statue of Liberty. Oh well, there's always the next time.



The depression started sinking in as soon as we touched ground in Gatwick. It could be worse, it could be worse, I kept chanting. I live in London. London is cool as well. It's not as cool as New York, fair enough, but there are worse places I could be returning to.

Still, it's never exactly fun when the holiday is over and one has to get back to reality. When you have to think about the 'normal' things in life again, such as BT bills and cleaning rotas and food shopping and work and college and the future beyond the next two days.

Maybe I'll start a London blog, and pretend that I'm still on holiday. I need to fall in love with my home city again. I could make my life a one big adventure.

Watch this space.

Adios

Granada - Laguna de Apoyo - Masaya

I´m now averaging about 10 hours of sleep a night. I fall asleep within 5 minutes of going to bed. It doesn´t matter if it´s hot, or if there´s a little bit of noise. I sleep like a baby, and it´s great. I´m sure it´s all a direct result of no stress whatsoever. Life is good when the hardest choice you´ve got to make is what to have for breakfast and which new place to discover next.

Granada is beautiful. It´s an old colonial town, and some parts of the city have been fully restored, lots of colourful buildings. But the buildings bearing the full signs of the past few centuries - all the earthquakes and the civil war - are the the best.

Inside the buildings, there are shops that sell everything you don´t need, and some very dodgy looking hot dog places. People go on about their daily life, children sleep under the display tables while their moms gossip with the ladies from the other stalls. At some parts of the city the pavement is so crowded with sellers that you have to walk on the main road, and try tyo avoid the cars, the motorbikes and the horses. It seems like horse-drawn carriages are still the main mode of transport for many Nicaraguans. If only it wasn´t that damn hot, you could walk around for hours and hours just letting it slowly sink in. But it IS damn hot, probably in the high 30s C...

I escaped the heat in the afternoon by packing a light overnight bag and taking the shuttle to a lagoon nearby. It´s a lake formed inside an old crater, and what a stunning place it was. I stayed in a gorgeous house called the Crater´s Edge, run by a lovely Canadian woman called Ann.

Straight away I took a dip in the lake. They have a cool little floating dock, and a bar right by the water. The dinner was served at 6.30pm under the stars, and I noticed that the only other people staying there were three couples. Ann lit the candles on the tables, it was so romantic - I´d gate-crashed a honeymoon heaven. Fucking fantastic. Two of the couples swiftly sat on their own tables. I was just about to reach to my Lonely Planet for some company, when Christi and Greg appeared and sat down on my table. Aah bless them! They were a really cool couple from New York and not even on a honeymoon. We drank the night away and I got lots of good tips for my New York trip. Things always seem to work out ok.

In the morning I woke up with the sun. One of the walls in the room I was sleeping in was open and it had a view to the lake, so I saw there was something special happening and got up and walked down the stairs to the lake. It´s not often that I get up at sunrise, but it´s more than worth it. The lake was even more beautiful than in the daylight, and I could hear the wildlife in the jungle going wild. (Wildlife going wild? Must think of a better metaphore...)

The moment passed quickly, and I went back to bed, and slept for another couple of hours, got up for a lovely three-course breakfast (fresh fruit for a starter, bread, eggs, cheese and salad for a main, and two types of home-made cake for a pudding, flushed down with three cups of coffee).

I could so get used to this, I thought, when I dived into the warm but refreshing volcanic lake afterwards.

But it as all good things, it had to come to an end. At midday, me and the New Yorkers caught a chicken bus to Masaya, a town famous for its artisan market about 45 mins away.

I shopped until I dropped, then had a faboulous veggie burrito in the best Mexican restaurant in Nicaragua (according to the bible). It was yummy, and I finished the whole grande burrito. Can´t say the same about the strange drink that I ordered, having slightly gotten lost in translation.

Exhausted from the shopping, eating and the heat, we caught a taxi back to Granada and Oasis again. I took another quick walk around the town, and thought about my approaching departure. I didn´t really want to leave yet. There´s still so much to see. But one thing is for (almost) sure - those places will wait for me. I say almost, as Nicaragua gets distroyed every now and then by earthquakes, so there´s always that little chance that a place won´t be there anymore when I come back.

My time here is up, for now. New York is waiting - if I make it to my early flight in the morning that is - have to get up at 3.45am. I´m just going to have one more beer and lie down in a hammock, while I still can. Actually, that should be possible back home as well, in theory. I bought a gorgeous hammock today, now just need to think where the hell to hang it in London.

Adios, Central America. You´ve been very kind to me. No robbings, no killings, lots of lovely people and bizarre experiences, one very uneven tan, a thousand memories.

Hasta luego.

How to climb a volcano

San Juan Del Sur – Isla de Ometepe (Nicaragua) - Granada

On Friday night there was a big party at the hostel . In the morning two guys were kicked out for breaking the rules, dismissing the night guard’s pleads for silence and keeping everyone awake. I slept through all of it. Poor Will and Claire didn’t, and they had to get up early to catch a bus to Ometepe. I didn’t go with them as I wanted to take my time and do laundry etc, before heading to Ometepe.

I walked around the town, there was some kind of art fair in the park and live music. And random monkey people.

I got a 15-min neck & shoulder massage for 60 cordobas - that´s about 3 dollars. It did the trick. I had some lunch before catching a local bus to Rivas. So one of those ex-American yellow school buses again (or "Canadian Blue Bird", as it says on the bus) . I need to take a photo at some point... It´s always such a painful experience that a photos are the last thing in my mind when I´m on board! And did I mention that such thing as gentlemen or manners really don´t exist here when it comes to fighting for space in the bus? Young men are quite happy to sit down and let the old ladies to stand, people don´t queue, they push, and slapping seems to be generally accepted as a means of making room. Then there are the sellers who get on at every stop, push their way up and down the aisle trying to sell ice, sweets and lots of unrecognisable food items as well as other crap. Fair enough, they need to make their living somehow, but it´s hard not to think that if the bus is jam packed as it is, please don´t even think about it!!! ...There are separate shuttles for tourists but they cost about 15 times more. Local buses are so cheap here. The 2-hour journey to Rivas was 15 or 20 cordobas I think - so less than 2 dollars.

Rivas was a horrible place. I got off the bus, realised that I didn´t actually have a clue how to get to the next point. The bus station was chaotic, dirty, noisy - not a sort of place I wanted to spend too much time on my own. I couldn´t spot any other gringos around, nor taxis. Oops. Finally someone approached me. "Taxi? taxi?" Obviously not licensed, but I did what a responsible traveller would never dream of doing and just hopped on.

Luckily he didn´t rob me and I got to San Jorge, where I had to catch a ferry to Ometepe, in less than 10 minutes. He did brutally over-charge me, but it was still less than a taxi driver would charge for starting the engine in London.

Ometepe looked beautiful in the distance.


On the ferry journey I was reading a local newspaper in English, and learned a bit more about the Finland-Nicaragua relationships.


It was an hour´s ferry journey, and I finally stepped on the volcanic soil of Ometepe at about 5 o´clock in the afternoon (there was some waiting around as the motor was broken). I ´d sort of made a plan to go to a certain place on the island, but my plans changed again at the last minute as I was talking to an American woman who lives on the Island. I decided to head to a backpacker resort called Hacienda Merida on the southern part of the island, and was very fortunate to share a taxi with three others so it wasn´t too expensive.

Ometepe is an island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua consisting of two volcanoes, shaped like the number 8. The ferry arrived on the top left side of the upper loop, and I stayed on the left hand side of the lower loop.

By the time I got to Merida it was already pitch black. I was feeling very tired and was happy to pay a couple of dollars extra for my own room - well it was a dorm but no-one else was staying there. Actually it looked like no-one else had been staying there for a very long time - it was a bit dusty and there were quite a few spider webs scattered around. No surprising really, as the building was kind of half-open and we were in the middle of a jungle. I had a shower anyway, and as I came out of the shower I spotted a huge hairy spider under my bed. Or it could´ve been a scorpion. What ever it was, I didn´t like the look of it AT ALL, and I´m not usually that fussed about the creepy crawlies. Suddenly the thought of being alone in this room for the whole night didn´t seem that attractive anymore, and it didn´t take me long to downgrade to a shared dorm with about 10 other people.

After dinner it was time to decide what to do on the following day. There are a few things to do on the island, one of which is hiking a volcano (one of which is active). One of the volcanos (Conception) takes at least 10 hours to get on the top, and the other one (Maderas) less than half of that. But it´s very hot (think 40 degrees C) and very steep, and according to the book tourists die on the climbs every year. So climbing a volcano was one of the activities I´d already decided definitely NOT to do.

So don´t ask my why and how, but within 15 minutes I´d signed up for a volcano hike. The "easier" one though (Volcano Maderas). What the hell. If I was to die here, at least climbing a volcano would be a cooler way to go than being bitten by a tarantula.

There were a few people at the camp who´d done the climb that day, and the girls I spoke to said it was the worst thing they´d done in their lives, and it was just madness. Apparently at first it´s very hot, then you get to the cloudforest where it´s a bit cooler but it´s full of insects and you get covered in ticks. It gets very muddy and towards thew end you need to use all four limbs to climb up the steep wall, to reach the top, from where there is no view whatsoever - it´s all covered in clouds. Hmmm...

It was five of us doing the climb, so we psyched each other up and got up at 6.30 in the morning to get ready. We had a nutritionally balanced breakfast of porridge, granola, fruit and coffee and packed our bags with snacks and water. We had two guides booked, and off we went.

The path was very rocky, and the ground was dry. We started the incline, and it had started to get hot already. I was chatting to a Swedish girl Sofia. My right foot slipped under the rocks, and I fell. Nothing bad, nothing serious - if only there hadn´t been a barbed fence to keep the cattle away on the side of the path. As I fell, I instinctively reached out my right hand, and hit the fence. Autch. There was a bit of blood. It hurt. I could see a deep cut on the right hand, just under a finger.

That was the end of my volcano climb.

I was in a shock a little bit and felt dizzy. After sitting down for a few minutes and talking to the guides I decided to turn back. It wasn´t even a huge cut, but I needed two fully functioning hands for the climb, and it just wasn´t going to happen now. Hand wrapped in tissue paper, I turned back and returned to the camp.

I felt shit. Someone kindly cleaned the cut and bandaged it, and I started to think of alternative things to do. But I didn´t want to do anything else. I wanted to climb a volcano!

From my hammock I watched a couple of boys packing their bags. They were going to hire a sailing boat to take them to the mainland, but they needed one more person to be able to do it. I couldn´t leave yet, surely not - I´d only been on the island for less than 20 hours. But I was over Ometepe by now. I was graving civilization. Sailing out straight to San Jorge with two blokes seemed like a much more attractive option than waiting until the morning to make my own way - a 3 hour bus journey followed by the ferry.

I ran to pack my bags. Cheerio, Ometepe and your stupid volcanos!

It was to be a three-hour sail to the mainland. A three-hour sail on a beautiful, hot sunny day sounded like the best idea I´d ever had. I had this picture in my head of sunbathing on the deck, feeling free as a bird.



I´d always loved sailing. I´d never been sea sick in my life.

There´s a first time for everything.

It was a small boat, and a very big lake which had bull sharks in it. The boat was rocking quite a bit. I´d just had a cheese sandwich, and as the boat nearly capsized a couple of times (or at least it looked like it) my stomach started turning.

I went to lie down in the cabin, and didn´t get up until we reached San Jorge.

Oh well. We made it to Rivas and me and one of the guys continued to Granada from there. It was another hot, sweaty and bumpy school bus ride, standing up for 1, 5 h, but was so happy to be on solid ground again and felt great.

We checked into hostel Oasis and I treated myself to my own room with a big, comfy double bed. The hostel was AMAZING. It truly was a little oasis.


I had a quick dip in the cute little pool they had and bumped into a couple of Dutch girls from SJDS. We went out for dinner (pizza, not my choice but it still tasted damn good, and did I mention the ice cold beer?)

Sampled some local rum with a bunch of Dutch people, and slowly but surely I started to get a feeling that I´d had a very lucky escape. Maybe one day I´ll climb a volcano, but it wasn´t my time just yet.

Surfing, beach, surfing, bruises

San Juan Del Sur

Two beach days behind.

Surfing here is amazing. Just picture this. A bus picks you up from the hostel at 10am and takes you to the Maderas beach.


It´s a very bumpy ride of about half an hour, but so worth it. There you can hire boards for 5 USD. It´s a beautiful beach break and it only takes about 10 seconds to get to the break - none of that walking for miles with a heavy board... The waves are about 2-3 foot, lovely waves, some surfers in water but never too crowded. When you feel like a break, there´s a "bar" on the beach selling cold beer and other drinks for 40p each, and the catch of the day grilled and served with rice, salad and fried plantains for $5. Or a bag of roasted cashew nuts for 10p.


There are lots of little crabs running around on the beach, and it makes very good entertainment. Ok, it´s a bit windy, the sand is blowing to your face occassionally, and the sand gets very hot at midday so it´s a bit painful to walk on it, but still, it´s pretty much a paradise.


aahh... but all this comes with a cost. That is, now after two full days on the beach and "surfing" , I look like I´ve been severely beaten up. Thursday was a very good day surfing wise, the waves were nice and gentle, lots of good long rides. I was using a 9ft longboard at the beginning and then changed to a 7"7 NSP (my all time favourite!!) and it was FUN! Friday was a lot rougher, and I made a mistake of taking the big and heavy longboard which definitely wasn´t a good choice for the massive and fairly choppy waves. After a few near-death experiences I gave up the longboard and changed back to the NSP, but the damage was done... I should really take a picture of my legs as they´re definitely a sight on their own right!

I´ve been hanging out with Claire and Will and some Dutch girls, it´s been really nice and chilled out. Bumped into the American bloke from my few days in San Jose, he invited us to a pool party at this fancy hotel on the hill. We went, and left very quickly after one drink. That place was just wrong! It just didn´t belong here. Not a 5 star resort like that, full of annoying drunken Americans, in the middle of so much poverty.

It´s funny how I keep bumping into the same people in random places... The three Aussies I was hanging out with in Puerto Viejo went gliding past me in a canoe in Tortuguero, and then we met again in Monteverde, on a ticket counter. When we departed in Puerto Viejo, everyone´s plans were still up in the air, so it was pure coincidence that we happened to go to all the same places... It was really nice to catch up again.

I´ve been so good when it comes to partying... well, I haven´t, at all. I´ve been such a little old lady on this trip. I get so tired by 9pm that staying up, not to mention going out, is completely out of question! Last night Sara the Dutch girl (she´s really sweet and just 19!) made us dinner and we shared a bottle of wine. I was up until 10pm, which is probably my record... I´m so sad. But I´ve been sleeping like a baby, 9 or 10 hours a night usually, regardless of the noise around me.

Leaving SJDS today, heading to Isla de Opetepe. My sunburnt face and bruised legs will thank me for that. I think another day on the beach would´ve killed me!

Arrival in Nicaragua

Monteverde, CR - San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua

Wednesday morning. The night guard at the hostel I´d bribed to give me a wake up call at 4am never showed. Luckily, this time I woke up for the alarm clock (after a night of very patchy sleep) and made it to the 4.30am bus. It took 2 hours to make the 40 km or so trip to the highway, as the bus stopped every 5 mins and the road was, to put it mildly, absolutely shite. Me and two other travellers (an English couple) got dropped off at La Irma, and watched the bus that the two others were supposed to get go straight past. This was the earlier Nica Bus that I didn´t get a ticket for when I´d bought it on the previous day, so I knew I had to wait for an hour for the next one, but these poor guys were not impressed, especially as the guy who sold us the bus tickets in Monteverde swore that the bus would definitely stop there and even wait for us if we weren´t there yet.

After an hour and a half´s wait, we saw another Nica bus approaching, and literally jumped on the road to wave. It stopped, and some 4 hours later we were on the other side of the border. It definitely wasn´t the luxury bus that we´d been sold tickets for, but at least it got us to Nicaragua. I had a nice lady sitting next to me, from Bolivia, who worked in Nicaragua for the Danish embassy. She spoke really good English and it was nice to chat to someone "local" in depth. She painted a very depressing picture of Nicaragua though and mentioned that Finland gives them a lot of money, but nothing ever improves because of the corrupted government. So stop wasting your money on Nicaragua, suomalaiset. :-)

Crossing the border wasn´t a massive hassle as a guy from the bus sorted it out for us. All we had to do was to work out how to get to San Juan Del Sur, which was all of ours final destination. Luckily there was an American guy on the bus who lived near SJDS and helped us all to get off the bus at the right junction and then catch the local bus. Now THAT was a proper local bus. It was basically an old American school bus, one of those yellow ones, that have seats measured for children. Not that we got seats though. The heat was getting unbearable, but just seeing all the smiling school children getting on and off made it worthwhile. I kept reminding myself that this was still better than Northern line in the summer. At least there were some people smiling!

San Juan Del Sur is a smallish town on the Pacific coast of Nicaragua, supposed to be good surfing. We checked out about 5 different hostels in town (they were all horrible) before settling for dorm beds in Casa Ora, which was the best of a bad bunch. I was still with Will and Claire, the English couple. The rest of the day was a bit hazy as I was so tired from getting up at 4am. It felt like I was suffering from a jet lag, even though there was neither a jet nor a lag involved in my journey. At one point I left my money belt with all my money, passport and credit cards lying on my bed as I went out. Luckily Will spotted it in time. At that point I decided that a siesta was probably a good idea.

The heat in San Juan Del Sur was just something else. Coming from cool Monteverde, it was especially hard to adjust to. In Costa Rica is was green everywhere even though it was supposed to be the dry season there as well, but as soon as we crossed the border everything went dry, dusty and yellow. The wealth differences between the two countries are really noticeable, and I think I had a bit of a culture shock. The first couple of hours here, I hated Nicaragua. It was a bit like crossing the border from Finland to Russia - those of you who´ve done it will know what I mean.

In the evening we went to get some dinner at one of the restaurants on the beach. We just caught the sunset, and all of a sudden I fell in love with Nicaragua.


I had lobster at the restaurant, washed down with a glass of vino blanca, which came to about 6 pounds. It´s generally really cheap here. A beer in a shop costs 37p, and in a restaurant about 70p. Main courses are usually about 2-3 pounds. The dorm bed cost 6 dollars.

It was an early night for me again, and I passed out within seconds of climbing to my upper bunk bed.

Touristy moments in Monteverde

San Jose - Monteverde

Saturday night in San Jose. I had my most expensive dinner to date: Pizza Hut delivery service. It was 9.30pm when I realised I was starving and it was the only place that was still doing deliveries. It cost me 8 quid. I so am living the high life here.

On Sunday morning I was still undecided on which way to head. I had several options: To take the scenic route to Nicaragua via San Carlos and do the 10h ferry crossing lake Nicaragua to Granada, but as the boat only goes twice a week I would've been very restricted with my schedule. This was what I's been planning to do all along, but the longer I've been on the road the more I've realised that plans are made for changing. I stlll wanted to see the Pacific side of Costa Rica as well, but at the last minute I decided to hop on a bus to Monteverde, 5h bus ride north of San Jose in the mountains. Before I left I went for a drink with Jorge, a Mexican guy from the hostel. We ended up in an Irish pub, and I made him to order fish and chips. Very Costa Rican!

Is there anywhere on this planet that wouldn't have an Irish pub?

Unexpectedly, I really enjoyed the bus ride, even though the bus was nowhere near as comfortable as the one I took to Puerto Viejo. The scenery was great, and I had a lovely ice cream at the roadside service station. Coming up to Monteverde there was the most amazing sunset.

Stepping out of the bus I was greeted by cool, fresh mountain air. I was actually quite shocked by how cold it was. Well, it must have still been about 20 C at least, but it felt soooo cold compared to the San Jose heat. It`s amazing how quickly your body adjusts to the temperatures, even my body...

I checked into Pension Santa Elena, where I'd reserved a dorm bed earlier that day. Did a bit of socialising with some very nice and some less nice (i.e. very annoying) Americans, before crashing to my bed at about 10pm.

On Monday morning I got a bus up to the Santa Elena cloud forest. Cloud forests are what Monteverde is famous for. This place was a sleepy little Quaker settlement until the 70s, when the National Geographic did a piece about the cloud forests and suddenly everyone came flooding in. Well, the Yankees mainly, and now this place is practically North American. It`s definitely the most touristy place I`ve been to in Costa Rica so far, but luckily the forests still remain as beautiful as ever. They`re all protected and much like elsewhere in CR, made into national parks. This country is actually one big national park, apparently about a quarter of the whole country is protected.

Walking into the Santa Elena cloud forest was like stepping into a fairly tale.

It was truly magical, a huge, enchanted forest and I wouldn`t have been surprised if the trees had suddenly started talking to me. There were lots of old men with big hanging beards and a dancing girl.

I`ve never been much of a tree-hugger, but there were a few old fellas I really wanted to hug. (yes, I think I`m losing it...) I saw a couple of tapirs as well. After a 2-hour hike a was completely exhausted, as it was mainly uphill so it was physically hard.

In the afternoon I went to supermarket and bought some food for the first time in 2 weeks. I`d developed a massive craving for a cheese sandwhich whilst hiking and none of the ready made one seemed that appetising so I made my own. They have a cheese factory in town (now you see why I like this place so much) and I bought some local cheese, it was delicious.

I`d booked into a sunset hourseride and at 4pm we got taken to a rancho and I hopped on a very appropriately named horse, Tequila. He was beautiful, if a bit lazy, but it suited me fine as it was only my 4th time ever horse riding. It was only me, the guide and another girl and both of them were experienced riders so it was up to me to adjust quickly.... The guide was a bit mental (his friend who we bumped to rode standing up... I can only be glad he wasn`t my guide!) but it was kind of good for me as he really pushed me to my limits - he even made us to do a galloping competition. Three actually. The first time was really scary. I just hang on to Tequila for my poor life and prayed silently. The second time was really scary. The third time was really scary, but I loved it. I lost all three, and I blame lazy Tequila. Obviously nothing to do with the freaked out jockey (is that what they call them?). Coming up to 6pm the sun was setting over the mountains. It was just breathtaking.

I`d moved to my own room at the hostel and even had my own bathroom. The life of luxury! Had a great shower (I`ve had so many cold and horrible showers here that a good one is defnitely worth writing about...) and went out for a posh Italian dinner with Ellie the other girl I was riding with. My posh Italian dinner with a starter, main and a huge glass of wine came to 10 dollars. The plan was to go for a few drinks with the mental horse riding guide but by 8.30pm we were both ready to hit the pillow.

This morning I did a very long tour around an organic coffee plantation and mill. I now know all there is to know about coffee. And something that I`d been suspecting for a long time was confirmed, regarding Starbucks. I really hate their coffee, and think it tastes like shit. Well, as we were explained about the grade A and B coffee beans that gets separated I asked what happens to the brade B coffee. I`m sure you can guess the rest. So they buy the low quality coffee for pennies and sell it to you for a lot of money. You`ve been warned!

This is my Amelie moment digging into the barrel of freshly roasted coffee. Mmmmm....

I bought some lovely organic Monteverde coffee to take home so you`re all invited to sample it once I get back.

In the afternoon I finally gave in and did the famous canopy tour. That`s basically 12 ziplines over the cloud forest, REALLY high, some of them REALLY long, i.e. over 600m. I wasn`t going to do it initially (being all older and wiser after my disasterous bungee jump) but everyone I met kept raving about it. It was actully good fun, but I wouldn`t recommend it to anyone scared of heights...

I`m catching the bus at 4.30am in the morning to get to the highway, and then hop on to a connecting bus to Nicaragua. My time is CR is nearly over, but I`m looking forward to Nica a lot.

I`m so so worried that I`ll sleep in again... Wish me luck. Thanks for reading. x

Eeva and the pickled turtle

Puerto Viejo > Tortuguero

...continues from the previous entry.

I jumped up, ran to towards the reception in my pyjamas and could hear someone calling my name. The tour cordinator was there looking for me, looking slightly pissed off. I pleaded for 5 minutes to get changed, got to the loo and get my bags and he shouted "5 minutes is too long!" I didn´t have any other choice but to try and be as quick as possible which is not easy when all your stuff is in lockers and you have to get changed in the bathroom.

I made it in 10 minutes, and as soon as I got to the bus I got a big lecture about being on time. I apologised profoundly over and over again and explained that I must have slept through the alarm clock and that I did not do it in purpose and that it would never happen again, but the tour guy just wouldn´t let it go. We picked up several other people, and ever time someone new got on he pointed at me explaining why we were 20 minutes late. Not very nice!

We drove to a meeting point to have breakfast and I was met by the rest of the Tortuguero group, luckily most of the others in the my bus of shame were going rafting and our mutual journey ended there, so I got to start afresh.

We drove through a banana plantation and stopped at banana packing centre were lots of illegal immigrants were washing bananas for Del Monte. Apparently all the workers were Nicaraguan, who are lured to Costa Rica because they get a salary of 400 dollars a month which is much more than they could ever earn in Nica. There was also guy with giant beetles, I´m not sure if he was trying to sell them or what. At first I though they were toys, i.e. plastic as they looked like some, about 10 to 15 cm long. Then one moved and I nearly got a heart attack. In the end I picked up the courage to even hold one, and to my surprise its shell was soft like velvet and it was actually quite a charming little thing. I still don´t think I´d like to find one in my bedroom though.

We changed to a boat, about 16 of us, and down we went the river towards the Tortuguero village. The boat journey lasted about 2 hours and it was very scenic. Tortuguero is in the northeast corner of Costa Rica, on the Caribbean side, and quite close to Nica. The name Tortugues means "turtle place", and the place is famous for, yes you guessed it, nesting green sea turtles as well as leatherbacks. It´s very remote and difficult to get to on your own which is why I´d opted for the tour option. Only 1200 people live there. Unfortunately it´s not quite yet the nesting season, I was few months too early for that. Anyway I wanted to see it because it´s a gateway to an amazing national park.

Me and a Japanese girl Kumiko were dropped off to the village, while the others, who had opted for the all inclusive delux tour option continued to their luxury resort on the other side of the river. We got to our cabins, desperate for a shower, and discovered that there was no electricity and no running water until further notice. The whole village was suffering from a power cut. The owner Sara was very apologetic and really sweet, and our rooms were so clean that it almost didn´t matter. I say almost, as by this time I was really quite smelly from the night in a hammock followed by long bus/boat journey.

We wandered 2 minutes down the road to the village to get some lunch, expecting a typical Tico fair with rice and beans and some freshly caught local fish. We found three little cafes, all selling just pizza and pasta. One of them did salads, so we opted for that, and asked for some fresh juice. By now I´d gotten used to the beautiful freshly squeezed fruit juices on sale everywhere, so we were horrified when they only did fizzy frinks which turned out to be made by Coca Cola company. Our idea of a remote fishing village started to crumble, and finaly came crashing down as we spotted the herds of American tourists strolling down the road. What a weird little place.

We met the rest of the group after lunch and visited the turtle museum, which highlight was an 20 minute video explaining the nesting process. As there was still no electricity, all we got to see were some picked turtles.

We did a walk on the beach were they come to lay their eggs and saw all the now empty nests. They were huge. I really want to come back one day when the turtles are in town.

The others left to their resort, and me and Kumiko were left to our own devices again. Thankfully the electricity came back so I was able to have a shower finally. My first hot shower in 5 days! The water was hotter than we get in our flat in London.

We had dinner in the restaurant attached to our cabins, and they even did dome seafood. We chatted to Sara the owner who told us about the village and the turtles and her life growing up in San Jose and moving to this remote place with her mum and little daughter. She can´t have been much older than me, and she had made the sacrifice for her daughter so she could have somewhere safe to grow up. It´s an incredible place to live in for sure, but she she admitted that the social life was slighty lacking in Tortuguero. But it was an adventure, and she told us about the baby turtles sometimes getting disoriented and wandering to the restaurant instead of the sea, and about the iguanas who lived on the nearby trees (we´d seen one already), the lost baby crocodile in the garden, and finaly about the boa she once found in the bedroom. I really wish she hadn´t told us about the last bit. She also told us that the villagers ate the iguanas and also the turtles, even though they´d been protected for a long time now.

After dinner we wandered down the street through the village, got lost (I didn´t think it would be possible in that tiny place) and found ourselves in the villagers living quarers, and briefly wondered if they ate tourists as well. (Bad joke I know, sorry.)

We found the beach eventually and sat down on a tree trunk to admire the amazing night sky. I hadn´t seen so many stars in a very long time. I secretly was hoping that we´d get lucky and spot a leatherback, but none showed up.

Had an early night and loved having my own room and a proper bed with clean sheets for a change. Thought about the boa for a bit before I drifted off to the sounds of jungle.

...


Woke up at 5.30am and the sun greeted me through the window. The curtain rail had come down during the night (the boa?). Had a lovely, lazy morning just reading, then had breakfast with Kumiko in the garden: cheese omelette and toast. They had table mats that read "Sweden". Maybe there was Ikea in the village, I wondered.

There was a chicken wandering around the restaurant, and as I was photographing the table she suddenly got all territorial or something and attacked me out of nowhere. I couldn´t stop laughing, even though the chicken wouldn´t stop and my legs were getting quite scratched. Finally the waiter run for my rescue and the chicken incident was over.

At 8am we were picked up again with the boat, and started the canal tour of the national park.
It was one of the coolest things I´ve ever done in my life.

We glided though the Amazonian like canals spotting all sorts of creatures left right and centre: many many different birds...



...poisonous frogs...




...monkeys...



sloths, caimans, and a big crocodile, chilling out near the riverbank but mostly in the water. The boat driver started poking it it a stick, and not surprisingly, it eventually got very irritated and made a move, at which point we realised that it was much bigger than we´d thought... at least 5 metres... and then we spotted the baby croc nearby.



It was just incredible seeing all the animals in the wild. The monkeys playing on the treetops, the sloth and all the colourful birds. What a different experience from seeing them in the zoo. There´s just no comparison.

In the late afternoon we started heading back towards San Jose, and I got dropped off at the Kabata Hostel in the evening. The little girl Jimena came running to the door and gave me a big hug, and my cat friend gave a me a long meow. It was like returning home from a long journey.

What an amazing day. I should´ve done this years ago.

Healthcheck:Toothache gone. Face peeled a few days ago. Sunburn slowly starting to turn into a sort of tan, although I´m still redder than I´d like to be. Mosquito bites: about 15 at various stages of itchiness, all over the body from face to toe. Mood: great.

More pictures at flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/eevaeevaeeva/sets/72157604307234503/

When drugs don´t work (or aren´t even needed, indeed)

Puerto Viejo

Wednesday morning started off well. I had a massage near the beach in the open air, to the sound of the Caribbean ocean. I could hear the howler monkeys above along with numerous birds, it was heaven! The massage was the best I´ve ever had in my life and just what my poor over-worked "muscles" needed. I was even able to forget my toothache for a moment.

Then it was laundy time (or more like dropping off the laudry for someone else to do... well worth the 3 quid), bank time, tour booking, and a taxi to the dentists, who was located in the next village called Hone Creek. I was really scared of how much it would cost and my insurance company hadn´t got back to me to confirm what counted as an emergency treatment, but it had to be done... two days of agony was enough. There was a slight communication problem with the taxi driver, who took me to the middle of a jungle first, which must have been called Hone Creek as well. By pointing to my teeth and acting like I was in pain I managed to get him understand that it was the dentists clinic in a village called Hone Creek that I needed. The dentist´s clinic was behind bars and locked doors with Jesus posters on the walls and the receptionist singing gospels. The treatment room was very cute, straight from a 50s American movie with a pastel blue chair. I really wanted to take a photo but felt it wasn´t quite appropriate. The dentist was very nice, and luckily spoke fluent English. She kindly confirmed that my teeth were a mess, and that I urgently needed to have a root canal, that would take several operations. I opted for the option b, which was antibiotics and strong painkillers to keep me going until I get back home. She suspected it had been the change in temperature that could´ve triggered the pain. Then it was time for the treaded bill. 5000 colones. That´s 5 pounds. My taxi to the dentist and back cost 12 pounds. It just didn´t feel right, but again it didn´t feel appropriate to tip a dentist.

Almost as soon as I left the clinic, the toothache mysteriously disappeared. No, I´d never heard of psychosomatic toothache before either. I decided to start taking the antibiotics anyway to reduce the swelling, but the painkillers have remained untouched.

Returned to the hostel to find out that there had been a cockup with my tour booking, and I could´t leave to Tortuguero after all in the morning as planned. There was a place for me the day after on the tour, so I had to settle for another lazy day in Puerto Viejo.

I´d decided to be adventurous and sleep in a hammock instead of a dorm bed that night since I´d never tried sleeping in a hammock before. The hammock quarters were covered but there were no walls, so it was almost like sleeping in the open air.



It was very soothing, and I drifted off almost immediately to distant guitar music and occassional whiffs of weed. A few minutes later I was woken by a drunken chorus singing Drugs don´t work, not so distant guitar noise, bongo drums and a thick cloud of smoke right next to my hammock. I got to enjoy the show until the early hours, hearing all the classics from Bob Marley to Oasis until I was tired enough to sleep through anything.



Thursday I slept in and missed a bus I´d planned to take to the Cahuita national park for a day trip. I waved goodbye to my Aussie mates who continued their journey, and then the heavens opened. For some reason (probably because I was desperate for something to do) I decided it was a good time to go surfing, so I rented a board and walked 20 minutes in the pouring rain to a surfing beach, only to discover it was completely flat, so I walked 20 minutes back. It was a big board, an 8ft softtop heavy as hell so at least my arms got a good workout.

Had lunch at Veronica´s Place, a cute little vegetarian restaurant whose owner also prepares herbal remedies. I lunched watching two blue crabs dancing on the floor, and reading about how Veronica discovered the power of plants (the plants talked to her, in case you were wondering) It was slightly surreal (and no I hadn´t been smoking anything).


The rest of the day I spent finishing my uni work, and IT IS NOW FINISHED. Spent another sleepless night in a hammock (my cunning plan of moving to the other side of the hammock quarters backfired, as the concert was held on the beach that night, i.e. away from where I´d slept the previous night and close to where I was now). (You may wonder why I hadn´t changed hostels by now, and the answer is ´cause I just couldn´t be arsed)

My alarm clock was set for 5.50am for a 6.15am pickup for the Tortuguero tour. I woke up in the morning to the sound of the birds and checked my watch. It was 6.23am. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

To be continued

Sun, surf, and sand (and a sunburn)

I´ve already learnt one new thing about myself on this trip: I like to hang around for too long in one place. It´s my 4th day in Puerto Viejo, and I definitely wasn´t planning on staying this long. But I´m lazy and it´s the Caribbean, so why not! I´ve already managed to get confused with the days, all day yesterday I thought it was Monday. I suppose it´s a good sign...

On Sunday night I went to bed early as I was still feeling unwell after the bus journey, and feeling a bit down anyway. I was in a place that was full of tanned, happy, young people yet I felt lonely and couldn´t bring myself to talk to anyone. I didn´t feel I belonged at all, everyone around me looked like they were pretending to be in The Beach and they just really annoyed me in my not so great state. I just lied in a hammock and read my book until I was tired enough to go to bed.

I woke up at six in the morning and walked to the beach. Not many people were up, so I had the beach pretty much to myself.

I walked to town, had some breakfast in a cafe on the beach, and life seemed much better already.

I was really looking forward to going surfing, and my date with the instructor was at ten. At eleven we finally set off... they have Caribbean time here. He was a sweet little local guy with dreadlocks, can´t have been much older than 18. We rode in the open trunk of a van to the surfing beach through beautiful scenery. The waves were big and powerful. I was unfit and lacking in experience. Paddling out was so hard that once there I had no energy left to catch a wave. My instructor was very patient and helped me a lot, but I was thrown around a fair bit by the waves. Actually, it was more than was fair. In the two hours I was there I cought four waves, but they were probably the four longest rides of my life. It was fantastic, the water was so warm and I don´t know if I can ever again face going surfing in the cold water... So much better without the wetsuit!

I returned to the camp (i.e. hostel) in the afternoon very exhausted, with a bleeding knee, some impressive bruises, and my face felt a bit raw. Over the course of the evening, I developed a nice pink colour on my face and my lower arms. Obviously factor 40 extra water resistant sun lotion didn´t do the trick.

Met my new roommate Dale, an Irish guy well into his weed. He kept raving about this best ever stuff he´d managed to get hold of, and made me smell and feel it. It smelled and felt like, erm, weed.

I had dinner in the hostel restaurant and got chatting to an Aussie guy Blake. He was travelling with his newly wed wife Kate and the wife´s sister Sarah. It was their honeymoon. Interesting arrangements, but hey not my business. We started knocking back beers and cocktails and soon Kate and Sarah joined us. By nine a clock my bed started calling me, and I retired to my cabin, hang the mosquito net up, and passed out.

The three Aussies had invited me to join them on a bike trip to Manzanillo on the following day. It´s a tiny little town about 13 K south of Puerto Viejo right next to the Panaman border. I´d been told that the ride would be very scenic and worth the effort, and Manzanillo itself was well worth seeing.

We set off at about nine in the morning, after we´d hired bikes that had frankly seen better days. They also had no gears, and the road was mostly a very bumpy ´dirt road´. Everyone who went past us would wave and shout "Hola"!

We passed some amazing beaches on the way, stopped at one for a swim, stopped for a drink, got to Manzanillo at lunchtime. Had the most amazing lunch.

Got lost trying to find the National park entrance, so we did an extra 5k or so, which wasn´t really needed. Found the national park, walked in for about 100m where we stopped at a little secluded beach and went for another swim. It was definitely a postcard Caribbean. Amazing.

The ride back was not fun. We were very tired, the road was so dusty and by the time we got back I smelled very bad. I don´t think I´ve ever smelled worse in my life. I was bitten by mosquitos, sunburnt and aching. And my tooth had been given me a lot of grief all day.

The evening was spent licking my wounds, enquiring about a dentist in town and a few beers at the hostel bar, followed by a hammock for about an hour before hitting the pillow.

Two good days. I´m starting to get the hang of it, I think.
Lots of love. xxx

Life's a beach!

Just a quick one, I've been busy surfing and cycling around the coast and now every inch of my body is aching. Booked into a massage for tomorrow morning though so hopefully that should bring some pain relief...
It was a great feeling waking up this morning and realising it was Monday!
More to follow tomorrow....

xxxx

I'm not meant for bus travel!

Yesterday I sort of finished the uni stuff, well it was so nearly there that I decided to give it up for a few days anyway and have a holiday for a change... Spent some time with the few people in the hostel: the American guy and the hostel owner Mauricio, not really doing much. Oh, I went back to the veggie restaurant with the American guy and this time I had the burger, which was great indeed. In the evening an Aussie girl arrived in tears, she'd just heard some bad news from home re: stepdad and a stroke, and then a Canadian girl arrived whose bag had just been stolen in a bus, with her laptop etc in there. Happy times!

So we just sat around and had a few beers watching some crappy films with Will Smith in them - I didn't bother even finding out what they were. Mauricio gave me some tips on where to go, and based on his advise I changed my mind about where I was heading today. Instead of Playa Hermosa on the Pacific I found myself today at the Caribbean side in Puerto Viejo. It wasn't easy to get here, well it was but I wasn't prepared for the zik-zak mountain road and 5 hours of that was NOT fun, even though the bus was much better than I expected with soft leather seats and air-con. I felt sick the whole journey, and still do now, three hours after we arrived.


I felt a bit sad about leaving Kabata Hostel as it had started to feel like a home after so many days spent in front of the computer there. I'd definitely become attached to the place and even the bloody American guy who I nothing in common with - he liked spending his time in casinos and loved himself more than anything else, but I guess it was because I hadn't really seen other people in days apart from the owners. I had definitely become attached to the guy running the hostel, what a sweetheart he was. He gave me a free shoulder massage and cheered me up when I was feeling a bit down about the dossier, and was very generous with his hugs. I don't think his wife liked me very much though.

I shared the experience of the bumpy ride to Puerto Viejo with another American guy Damian. We chatted a bit when I was well enough to speak at all, and ended up going to stay in the same hostel here in Puerto Viejo. Him and his two mates. I'm staying in Rocking J's or somehting like that - an "interesting" hippy resort with lots of hammocks everywhere and it reeks of weed. I've got my own "room" for tonight and I'll see if I can get comfortable there, if not I might go somewhere else tomorrow. It's right on the beach and definitely the most laid back place I've ever seen in mylife,but it might be just a bit too laid back for an uptight person like me! :-) ...I'm just not sure if it's my scene but I'll try and chill out, man - it's the Caribbean after all!

But I'm finally getting in the water tomorrow, I already booked a surf lesson for 10am. I can't wait. At the moment I'm still feeling a bit disoriented and not quite sure what to do with myself. I might have to go and pester the three blokes for some company, although I'm not really in a sociable mood. But somehow I don't think an early night is an option in this place...

I've not quite taken it all in yet, I guess it's a kind of culture shock. We'll see. Anyway, fingers crossed the surf's up tomorrow and I'll still remember how to get up on the board, it's been sooooo long since the last time.

Wish you were here. xxx

Cats, cows and the computer

Yesterday I slept until late, and some coffee and toast, did some work and went into town for a stroll when it started getting a bit too much. I'd read in the Lonely Planet that the market I'd been the day before was the Number One hangout for pickpockets in San Jose (Kaisa! Siis NIITA taas) and that tourists were strongly discouraged from flashing their cameras etc. Ok, it's good to read about these things afterwards. San Jose is supposed to be a bit dodgy anyway, but I followed Luis' advise to carry a plastic bag with me so I'd look like a local. So never mind the pale skin and my otherwise slightly unorthodox Tico appearance, it's the plastic bag that does the trick!



The town was full of cows, and the kids (and me) loved them. Not much else to see in town actually, so I purchased a massive pineapple and headed back "home".



The rest of the day was spent pretty much in front of the computer, but at least I had some company: the resident cat who became my new best friend, and an American bloke who's pretty much the one person living here besides me. He doesn't seem to be doing much, apart from checking his facebook account every ten minutes. We've sort of become friends though, even though we have nothing in common, but there isn't really that much to choose from.



In the afternoon the clouds gathered and the sky went black, and soon I was surrounded by a tropical thunderstorm. It rained pretty much for the rest of the day, and I had to venture out in the rain to get some dinner. I went to a vegetarian restaurant and ordered a salad, which was quite average. As I was eating I was reading the lonely planet and learnt that the restaurant that I was in did the best veggie burgers ever. Yes, very wise to read about it afterwards...



In the evening I lost my mojo with the dossier and started planning where to go next. I think I've got it worked out now. I migh leave this afternoon, if I get this fucking script finished, and if not (more likely option) then first thing tomorrow. I've had enough of San Jose now. I want to go surfing!!!



It's a beautiful, hot morning now and I've just had a pineapple cutting lesson from the hostel owner. I was doing it all wrong, apparently.

Thanks Sarah for pointing out that my "turtle legs" were in fact "turtle eggs". Not sure if that makes me feel any better about it, though...

So not much to report from the front line, I'm afraid! Sorry if I put you to sleep!

xxx

From Clapham Junction to San Jose

I left the house just after 6am, after about 3 hours sleep. The street was so quiet, London was just waking up to a new day. All the rubbish bags on the street were lined up waiting for a collection, a few ripped apart by foxed during the night. The birds were going crazy, it was like jungle in Earlsfield. Magical. I love London in moments like this. Waiting for the train at Clapham Junction, the sky was bright red, so beautiful. Not many commuters were up yet, but in about an hour or two the hell would break loose with anoher mad London rush hour.



The journey went extremely smoothly by my standards. Both flights were about an hour delayed, but there were no missed flights, no lost baggage. Unbelievable! I changed planed at Newark, and the flights went really quickly with my uni work. I snoozed off every now and then, cursed myself for having forgotten to order a veggie meal so I missed out on two inflight meals and munched on some crisps and lettuce instead. Yum! At Newark, I stepped outside the terminal for a minute to breathe some fresh air and Manhattan looked so inviting in the distance. I can't wait to go back in 3 weeks time! On the flight to San Jose I was sitting behind an Amish family. Or something. Think Girl with a Pearl Earring, that kind of clothes, hats and all. What a weird sight on a modern airplane. The strangest thing was that the mum had a moustache. The little Amish girl was very chatty, although we didn't have a common language.

And so I was in San Jose, some 20 hours later. I think. I lost track of the time as I was trying to keep up with the timezones. It was about 8.30pm local time that I landed and had a pre booked taxi waiting for me outside to take me to the hostel. The taxi driver's first question was where my boyfriend or husband was. I've heard that they're obsessed with that in Costa Rica, and simply can't comprehend that a woman would travel on her own, or even worse, not have a husband! Hmm. I sense some interesting conversations ahead. Practiced my Spanish with him and you should be proud of me Blanca!



I'm staying in Hostel Kabata in 'downtown' San Jose. Nice little place, quiet, just what I needed really. Run by a friendly young Costa Rican couple who've got a gorgeous little daughter and two cats one of which has got kittens. I treated myself to a double room for the first night as I wanted to make sure I'd get a proper night's sleep. It wasn't needed though, as the hostel is really quiet and today I switched to a dorm room which is only 12USD a night and I'm the only person there.



Woke up just before six this morning. Met a retired Costa Rican tour guide Luis in the kitchen, who made me beautiful coffee and invited me to join him on a trip to a market. He's taking 10 scientists on a virgin rainforest expedition next week, so I figured out he'd be safe company to go to a San Jose market with.

We walked there, and I got shown all the important places on the way. Took some money out, and got a bit confused with the exchange rate. I took out 10000 colones as it was the highest sum offered on screen, and it turned out I'd taken out just 10 quid. It probably cost me about the same in bank charges. San Jose is quite charming, in a strange, rough, rustic way. It reminds me of Spain a bit, but more chaotic. And hotter! I think I'll just stay indoors as much as possible. Even at 8am in the morning I was suffering with the heat. And this isn't even bad I was told. The taxi driver last night was moaning about the wheather being so cold, only about 30 degrees C.



The market was great. Apparenly it's THE place to go shopping in San Jose, they sell anything and everything there and the prices are much lower than anywhere else. They did have everything there, from turtle legs to mangos to Cuban cigars to hammocks to lovely handmade wooden toys. And the 'finest' coffee in costa rica, as well as the oldest cafe bar, 118 years old, still with the original furnishing. We had guanabana there, which was lovely. Some sort of fruit juice. Maybe made of guavas?



Now, it's midday and I've got to start writing my documentary dossier... Luckily they've got computers here and they're free to use so I've no excuse anymore. I'm going to be at it for the rest of the day. Yawn. Staying here at Kabata at least one more night, maybe two, depending on how I get on with my work. I uploaded some pics on flickr, and will try to link them here too, but if I don't succeed the link is:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/eevaeevaeeva/sets/72157604307234503/

Thanks for reading. Hasta luego!

p.s. Not sure how to link pictures from flickr to here. Does anyone know? Please let me know....