Tag Archives: travel blog

Buenas from Costa Rica

2 Apr

So we missed a week and we would like to acknowledge that… but you can tell from our previous posts we are not dead; we are, however, sun burned in Costa Rica!

First, our stay in San Jose: We stayed in Nomadas Backpackers, an incredible hostel that we would absolutely recommend to anyone passing through or staying in San Jose.  They are centrally located, the owner are an adorable couple who are sweet and super helpful, and it’s within a few blocks of the large Estadio Nationale.  We set to the task and immediately explored the million habitant city. It just so happened that we were there during an art and music festival, which also happened to be hosted at the park within 5 blocks of the Nomadas Backpackers hostel. That meant that we were able to listen to live Costa Rican music, explore local green reuse arts and products, and saw the huge green campaign that Costa Rica is promoting in the sprawling city, which all happened to also be free! I was highly impressed.

We then took a seven hour bus journey which required two separate busses. This should have been an easy switch, but in Costa Rica the bus system involves multiple completely separate companies, and so we had to get off one bus in the sweltering furnace of the valley towns in the dry season, ask directions from as many people as possible in our weak Spanish to try to locate our next goal, and then hike with all of our ridiculously heavy luggage to the next bus stop, which was actually hidden amongst shops and stores as just a little tunnel through the buildings where a bus can just hide in the shade away from sight of the typical unobservant, tired, and sweaty traveler!

We did eventually get to our first destination: the weird hippie ville Dominical. This is a small town on the ocean where there is a consistent beach break to surf, but only draws a crowd when the surfers flock in for a swell.  This means that the accommodations are free hippie camping on the beach, which we plan on partaking in shortly, and very loved and used rooms that have seen their fair share of surfer parties.  We met a very nice English man named Richard who entertained us endlessly with his accented surfer/sailor talk and shared our rusted sleeping quarters.

We stayed one night. We did ask the chic hotel down the street, which costs considerably more than our budget will allow, but has a private jacuzzi, direct beach access, and AC in the rooms if they could use any help.  He said “Next week”, even though we looked like we had withered in the bus ride over and have minimal Spanish skills.  Apparently the Semana Santa week is a crazy busy time, and even we would be useful!  We’ll see if we hear back from them to make this all work!

We then ventured to the very south of Costa Rica and arrived in a wonderful jungle village Pavones. This small town that’s only a stone’s throw from Panama is full of surfers who can appreciate a quick, long, left point break.  Here we met Brother Kiwi, hiked to a Yoga Farm placed on top of a huge hill, surfed, hung out in a jungle tattoo parlor, and read!

There is also a restaurant outside of town on the way to Punto Banco that is like a little haven of tasty food in a land where we have largely been served bland rice and beans.  Don’t get us wrong, rice and beans are great, and we fully expected that to be our entire diet down this way.  But this little Ceviche specialized place draws people down from hours away and is worth every hot step if you hoof it.  They don’t cook vegetarian, but they whipped us up some veggies, beans, rice, and wonderful goodness so tasty we will consider the horrible bus ride well worth it to visit again if we are anywhere near the area!

We are absolutely LOVING the Frutas con Leche!!!!

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Guatemala from an airplane window

27 Mar

Guatemala is covered in a sea of clouds, washing over, between, and through impossibly high mountains. Small flecks reflect E already brilliant sun that pours into the early morning, the only markers of the people who live below.

Guatemala City reaches it’s fingers right up against the runway, only to spill back towards the edge of a nearby cliff. The houses appear small and simple from above, flat roofs throwing the sun’s blinding rays back upwards, as they tumble towards the various scars knifed between the mountains, only to come to rest just at the edge of a cliff, as if on a knife’s edge, precarious, waiting to slip over like the tumble of rocks just beside that points it out as a distinct possibility.

There are large, straight roads carving their way up the mountainsides, cutting back and forth like an artist’s blade through paint. My neighbor informs me this is la tierra del sol y de montanas. She is brimming with pride as I admire our view out my window, even though she has made her home in Los Angeles for the past 40 years.

She tells me that like a good strong tree she has spread more roots in the States, but that when she packed up and left everyone behind all those years ago, she left just the edges of her first roots here, still entwined underground with those of her mother and siblings.

She told me that no matter how far she is from her sisters and brother in time or space, no on could ever know her better or be a better support than those who first put their roots down beside you when you were new.

We learn to grow, to lie, to hurt, to laugh, and to cry with these people – and each holds an echo, scar, or mark of the other in their heart. Parents are there to pick you up, but siblings are there to help you fall together. They are the ones that are our secret holders – don’t tell mom I ate the last cookie, or let’s bring a pack of gum and see how long dad let’s us keep it.

And it is for my two sisters that I say I will jump off the cliff with you and hope that we land safely, I will keep your secrets and share your joy, I will steal your sweater and give you my trust, I will punch you on the arm and hold your hand when you’re scared, I will laugh with you until we cry and yell with you until you feel better, I will critique the finer points of your walk of shame and congratulate your accomplishments, I will compete for our parents’ attention but only complain to them if I lose from time to time, and mostly I will drop everything for you if you ask, with the sole exception being my obsession with getting to Antarctica within the next two years… I may sell your organs if mine aren’t enough to get me down there!

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