World Costa Rica Limón Puerto Limón

Two Gringos in Costa Rica: A Valiant, Revolutionary Adventure of Epic Proportions

The Caribbean Coast Jan 4, 2005

CAHUITA: United Airlines managed to fly my misplaced back pack into San Jose and were nice enough to deliver it to our Hotel. From there, we went straight to the bus station to buy our bus tickets toward the town of Cahuita on the Caribbean coast. We had to purchase our tickets ten minutes before departure time and were given standing room only tickets for the four-hour bus ride over the mountains. This was a daunting proposition for the King of Claustrophobia and the Queen of Car Sickness, but we knew we had to get the heck out of San Jose, and get settled in Cahuita before nightfall. A couple people actually let us sit in their seats towards the end of the ride. On the bus, we met a couple of Texan tourists- a mother and her college aged son. He had been in the country for a few weeks already, and was showing his mom around. That's a really good son... maybe we should have brought our moms.... We arrived in Cahuita and found a decent hotel that night. It should be noted that from here on out, when I use the word hotel, I mean four modest rooms, possibly a private bath, and the phrase "hot shower" used very loosely. We stayed in backpacker hostels rather than hotels for most of the trip anyways... The town of Cahuita is a bite size hybrid of Costa Rica's rainforests and beaches, and the Caribbean's rastas and reggae. Every creature there, from the pot head to the rainforest sloth, seems to have the same approach to life. The quiet laziness was a nice contrast to the pandemonium of car horns and melee of people that characterized San Jose. Our first night we met some other American travelers in the adjacent hotel room. One of these travelers was a surfer and amateur chiropractor who not only gave us great advice about Costa Rica, but adjusted Sharon's back as well. Go figure... The following morning we decided to search for accommodations on the outskirts of town. We found an incredible little beachside bungalow run by a jolly old ex-Californian. The man's enthusiasm for horticulture was obvious- both in his landscaping abilities and his recreational habits. But his property was incredible and surreal in its relaxing atmosphere. That night, the hotel owner let us borrow a couple of old bicycles complete with tooting horns and banana seats. So there we were on our way into town: two gringos on rusty bikes traversing pot holes in the middle of the rainforest. It doesn't get any better than that... seriously....

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