Costa Rica: the story so far

(((WRITTEN LAST NIGHT, BEFORE MY INTERNET KEYPASS EXPIRED)))

I only have a few minutes here, probably, as we’re huddled in a mountaintop hotel in the middle of what, by my estimation, is a total fucking hurricane, but we’ll try this out and see how it goes.

In Costa Rica, so far, I have:

– drunk beers in the back of the rental car
– swum in several lovely pools
– swum in the ocean
– borne witness to the most amazing sunset EVER, while swimming in the ocean
– stolen a bunch of shit from our crappy hotel in Dominical
– gotten a huge zit on my chin
– possibly been stung by a jellyfish
– fed wild monkeys
– sampled several different ceviches
– ordered several meals that I knew I wouldn’t like, but somehow liked anyway
– including a meat empanada I bought at a gas station diner near Puntarenas
– read 113 pages of literary porn, seven pages of which were repeated aloud to my friends

Today we left the beach town of Manuel Antonio with the intention of staying a night in Jaco, some 2 hours north. But the scene in Jaco was pretty touristy and lame, so at 3pm we decided to forge onward to Monteverde (Green Mountain, aptly named). After many soul-jostling miles of winding mountain roads, we conducted an economist survey of local hotels before settling on an admittedly seedy room in the center of town. It was wickedly cold and windy, not so much raining as whipping vapor, and just as we began to unpack… all the lights went out.

The hotel we’d decided on was a tiny place on what I suppose is the “main drag” of town. It looked like a flophouse – there was an old drunk passed out on the sidewalk outside, a gaggle of chain-smoking teenagers, a groceria, and a bar, and the entrance to our hotel was a series of sliding glass doors which enclosed a massive, low-hanging tree. Instead of linoleum, the hotel had a gravel floor, and the reception booth was caged in by plexiglass, like you’d see at a carnival ticket window. Rooms were $80/night for a double, and were barely large enough to fit two double beds. The bathroom sink was chafing tile, and the shower looked sketchy, at best. On the upside, though, I was promised free internet, free cable, free breakfast, and an in-room safe. The other hotels, although cheaper, had even smaller, sometimes windowless accommodations, and we’d have had to leave our valuables at the front desk. Seriously, I’d rather sew my computer to my leg than leave it with some of these people.

I’d been having fun with the drive and all, but hopping in and out of the car wearing shorts and a tank top in morbidly damp wind and rain had worn me out. “I’m SO done with not being drunk,” I said, moments before we lost power. “Where’s the fucking vodka?” Then everything went black. Seriously. WHERE is the fucking vodka??

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