Grabbed the Train Wreck brekkie at a local dive, complete with Bloody’s, strong-as-heck coffee, fried papas and huevos. More coffee (mental note to detox at home) and a bee line to San Jose, our only stop a gas up in San Izadro, rolling thru Cartago and up the Highlands to Volcan Irazu to find lodging.
We did at Grandpa’s BnB, and old plantation with plenty of land, grass, a tropical garden and amenified log cabins tucked in neatly. We’re stoked. It’s like Alaska, but tropical. The weather had done a complete 180 in a 4 hour drive. From coast to mountain and a couple thousand feet up into the highlands, we step out of the car, clad in suits and sarongs still, it was COLD! Had to completely undo the backpack to find something with sleeves. Thank god I didn’t donate that shirt days ago. The great thing about carrying only a 20 lb pack for a month is that whatever you need is not so far away 
City of Cot
We drove up the volcan and the little village of Cot caught our eyes. A washed out, condensed, pastel-paint commercial tucked compulsively into the hillside. A wonderful stop for those craving non mainstream attractions, or perhaps a painter/photograher’s muse. Very romantic in sunset light. Back at the cabin, we cozied up to some show in Spanish, taking note that this is the first place we’ve stayed at so far that has any kind of comforter on the bed. It’s just too hot everywhere else.
Cot Church
We dined on the traditional Gallos Pinto in the am and drove 17 km above the cloudline, gaining glances at Cartago and the valley below. It was sunny when we arrived at Irazu Volcano. We were told to get there early for a decent view. Afternoon tends to bring clouds and rain. We hiked along the edge of the crater rim. In hindsight and sans snobbiness, we could have skipped this stop. It was cool indeed, but having Helens and other more impressive volcanic features right in our backyard, we didn’t need to spend money on this. May have been worth it if the hike extend further/deeper in and around the blow pit. We quickly realized that all the super impressive photos we’d seen of this place were captured aerially or from a place we were not allowed to go. By the time we walked to the upper observation point, the crater was covered in clouds. Que lastima!
Volcan Irazu
Zipping over to San Jose, we got our MEPE bus tix to Puerto Viejo and the Caribbean side. Casados at a market soda and a looong drive to the outlying suburb of Alajuela for a supposedly quiet night out of the city. We found Mango Verde Backpackers and found out that Alajuela is not so little, or quiet. It’s like Beaverton to Portland or St. Paul to Minneapolis. Bustling with folks racing around the market and shops lining the streets, it’s the countdown to xmas in full effect. Dinner at Roastie’s, where we guzzled two glasses of vino that have far surpassed anything we’ve had so far. Sometimes, especially after a hard day driving in the city, it IS about quantity and not quality. Pescado fajitas that satisfied. Walked to the junk market around Parque Central and discovered my new food fetish. Churros. Not just any. Dulce de Leche filled churros. Pumped fill of creamy caramel, deep fried, sugar and cinnamon doused perfection. 22 and I said not a word during those first bites, but shot each other the knowing glance of an instant addict. Another note to self: a deep fryer with a Play-Doh star shaped dough pump cutter is in order immediately upon return to PDX.