After an early and quasi frantic market session for fresh fruits and veggies to tote to the Carib side (with Dulce Cake in hand of course), we collected our belongings and prepared for our BeGo farewell. From now on, it’s buses and bikes again. We dropped the rig at Budget, it somehow cleared inspection despite multiple broken parts and so much mud that the blue exterior was now entirely brown. I think they EXPECT cars to be returned this way. Once more thru San Jose, where the holiday parade set up was in full effect. Like deja vu, we tried to find our bus station. The amount and types of busses that run this this country is complex to say the very least and takes some savage savvy to navigate. Another day, another adventure as we begin the last leg of our trip. And, as the locals declare, we saved the best for last. The ride was mostly in the dark so we missed much of the scenery thru Limon and down the east coast. However, it wasn’t far outside the city that the humidity crept and then dripped in. Thicker, heavier and wetter than ever. On top of the heat.
Puerto Viejo del Talamanca
Getting off the bus, we were completely drenched and had to unpeel ourselves from one another thru the stickiness. At the Puerto Viejo stop, it was driving rain. We walked the strip. The new swanky, hipster hostel Pagalu was full and we went to the only other one, the Sunrise Backpackers. Clearly a bottom feeder. Homeboy at Pagalu saw a window of opportunity to create a nice hostel environment that would attract everyone and took it. One of those things I wish I would have discovered. We tossed our sopping stuff down and walked a few blocks to Chili Rojo for dinner.
A couple of distinctions between this side and that, meaning the Carib vs the Pacific right off the bat. Food on the east side is all fusion. Whatever that means. Not “fusion” by American definition. There is more Japanese, Thai, and Euro influence here, making it not as exotic or authentic for that matter. Goodbye casados and tipico food. Hello Caribbean Jerk and coconut milk infused everything. Not that it’s bad. Just more fattening. And more expensive by at least 2 mil colones per dish. Lame.
The other. The people. On the west side, the Highland and thru the Peninsula, there are way more natives and people that only speak espanol, forcing you to use and recall any little bit you may have learned X years ago in high school. It’s more important to be fluent on that side, or come armed with a few key phrases. Even those who may speak ESL coax you to speak espanol so you can learn. On the Carib side, do not bother to speak to the local of of Afro Carib descent unless you are fully fluent and know the appropriate slang. If you try and fail, they’ll answer you in pure English or Spanglish with a “nice try” look. Bonus points for knowing and understanding rasta.
Apres dinner we scoured the street of town and down along the beaches. Playa Cocles, Playa Chiquita and Punta Uva and the route to Manzanillo. There are an abundance of restaurants and cabinas evenly spaced, all to suit the intrigue of any sort. On the north end of town, Playa Negra is where the surfers retreat so as to not get tore up among the coral reefs along the other three.
