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Boat, Buses and a Car - Oh my!
After a day of relaxing and exploring Tortuguero on Saturday, we were headed out on Sunday for the next leg of our trip ~ to La Fortuna and the Arenal volcano, where we would spend four nights.
At 5 a.m., we woke at Casa Marbella with the sun shining through our window, the birds chirping outside, and Bill suffering from a sudden high fever and deep cough. Uh-oh, . . . Bill rarely gets sick but when he does, he's usually really sick and {for some strange reason} we're usually on vacation. Out of an excess of caution, I had packed a large supply of Emergen-C {an immunity builder filled with high doses of Vitamin C and minerals that our family swears by}, Wellness Formula {another herbal immunity builder that has saved me several times}, ibuprofen, and cold medicine ~ all of which I started pumping into Bill in an attempt to fend off whatever was getting to him. The kids and I had our morning elixirs of Emergen-C, hoping to steer clear of it as well.
At 6 a.m., the motorboat picked us up at the dock of Casa Marbella for our return jungle cruise to the farm/bus stop known as La Pavona. About half-way through the hour-long ride, the rain started to fall, becoming quite heavy at times. As our motorboat had a roof, we were able to enjoy the rain, watching it downpour on the river and surrounding banks, hearing it pound on the roof, and feeling little more than a refreshing spray carried by the wind as we sped up the river. Sitting behind {and thus being downwind from} a couple of Tico teenaged girls, Bill and Lane were also treated to a heavy dose of bubble-gum-smelling body spray that the girls all felt compelled to douse themselves in.
When we reached our destination at Pavona, we retrieved our luggage from under the tarp at the front of the boat and climbed the muddy riverbank to head over to the corrugated tin-roofed structure to await our bus. In doing so, the shoulder strap on the large duffel bag Bill was carrying gave way, with one of the fasteners snapping off into the mud. Soaked with a combination of rain and sweat from his increasing fever, Bill was able to locate the piece and try to jerry-rig the strap back together ~ while the strap would hold for a while, it was never the same again, giving way several more times over the trip. {This was the first in a series of instances that told us that our decision not to invest in backpacks was not a wise one.}
Around 7:15 a.m., we piled onto the bus for a bumpy, muddy 1.5-hour ride to Cariari {ah, Cariari}, where we would catch another bus to Guapiles, where we would then pick up our rental car. Between the bumps and splashes through rain-filled ruts and potholes, the bus stopped frequently to pick up the Ticos, many of whom were traveling significant distances to attend church. By the time we reached the "new bus station" in Cariari, it was standing room only with every possible space in the seats and the aisle occupied. The bus dropped most of the passengers at the new bus station, where they would connect on to San Jose, while we rode a couple more blocks to the "old bus station" to catch the bus to Guapiles.
At the old bus station, now familiar territory, we got our bus tickets to Guapiles and stood in a long line for our bus. We boarded a very crowded bus, with the driver telling us to put our luggage on board with us in the open space designated for handicapped. Lane, Carly and I stood with our bags and Bill took a seat in the raised area behind us, since he was not feeling well, as we embarked on a 45-minute ride on paved but winding roads in this standing-room only bus that continued to fill as we went along.
We arrived in Guapiles at a large bus terminal around 10 a.m. We had arranged to meet our rental car at 11:30 at a hotel that was "right next to the bus station" called Hotel Talamanca. While the kids and I stayed with our bags, Bill went to ask directions to the hotel and was told that it was about 500 meters up the street ~ it turns out that it was actually closer to ½ mile and all uphill.
At this point, I must digress to give you a bit of background. . . . When planning our trip, Bill and I discussed the purchase of two internal frame backpacks to fit clothes and miscellaneous for the four of us. I was a big proponent, having backpacked in Europe between college and law school and knowing how invaluable a good backpack can be and how much easier it can make going through airports and navigating treks with luggage. I researched packs online, we went to REI to check them out, and we had decided which packs we would get. Ultimately, though, since we were trying to keep the costs to a minimum for this trip, and since we knew that we would have a rental car for the majority of our trip, we decided to forego the internal frame backpacks and stick with our tried and true duffel bags. How did that work for us, you say? Well . . .
Our luggage consisted of one backpack for me {a fantastic American Tourister canvas backpack borrowed from a neighbor}, a large black duffel bag for Bill and Carly {the one that the shoulder strap had popped off of at La Pavona}, a duffel bag for Lane, and another duffel bag for the overflow that we could not fit in our three bags {miscellaneous but necessary items like hiking boots, sunscreen, cold medicines and herbal remedies, etc.}. So, theoretically, each of us had a large backpack or duffel bag to carry, as well as our carry-on tote bag or backpack. I say "theoretically" because the extra duffel bag, laden with our hiking boots, was really too heavy for Carly to carry very far and the large black duffel bag that Bill was carrying was a real struggle once the shoulder strap kept giving way.
Meanwhile, back in Guapiles . . . We all grabbed our items of luggage and set out for our trek to the Hotel Talamanca. Rain had started to fall, but it felt good as we labored under the weight of our bags and the humidity in the air. About 50 yards up the street, the shoulder strap on the black duffel bag gave way again. Bill was able to find the little piece and put it back together, and we continued on. About 25 yards further up the street, and I do mean "up" the street, the strap gave way again. This little trek was quickly deteriorating into a miserable experience, as Carly was struggling with the weight of her bag and Bill was trying to plow through the fever and weakness with this beast of a bag. This time, when Bill stood up after piecing the strap back together, his shirt was soaked and his ashen face was dripping with sweat. We looked like quite a clan on the side of the street, struggling with our packs and stopping every few yards ~ do you think we stood out as tourists? much? {At this point, I decided it was probably best if I refrained from asking Bill whether he still thought it was a good idea to forego the purchase of those internal frame backpacks!}
Time for a new plan! I showed Carly and Lane how to strap their duffel bags across their shoulder to better carry the weight and, with my borrowed backpack delightfully leaving me hands-free, I grabbed one of the side handles of the black duffel bag to help Bill carry the load. We continued on, making frequent stops to adjust bags, the kids switching shoulders, and Lane and I alternating helping Bill carry the beast bag. At one point, just as we were starting to despair that we may be going the wrong way, since we had definitely gone at least 500 yards, I stopped a local guy riding by on his bike. Borrowing a phrase from our wild-ride driver on our first night, I called "Amigo, por favor!" He immediately started speaking to me in English {how did he know?} and confirmed that we were on the right track and that the Hotel Talamanca was just at the top of the hill ~ about another 300 yards away.
The kids were real troopers. Once we knew we were in the right direction, and Lane was determined to get to our destination that surely contained seats and food, Lane turned to us and said, "OK, we're going to power-walk the rest of this hill. Ready? Let's do this thing!" and he turned and sped with determination up the hill. It gave us all a laugh and the boost we needed to make it the rest of the way up the street. As we got to the Hotel Talamanca, right near a fairly busy intersection, we decided to walk the rest of the way to the corner to see if there might be a place to park ourselves and eat. What appeared around the corner, but the Burger King and Church's Chicken that we had stopped at on our first night in Costa Rica on our way through Guapiles! We all started laughing at this "small world" feeling.
The Burger King was our oasis for the next hour, as we quickly unloaded our burdensome luggage and made ourselves comfortable in a back corner of the restaurant. We were all craving breakfast after seeing all of the BK breakfast posters up in the windows featuring pancakes, eggs, bacon, . . . alas, just as we completed translating the menu and deciding what each of us would like, we walked up to the counter to order, just as the employee flipped the menu signs from breakfast to lunch. Arrggh ~ we had just missed the 10:30 cut-off and had to talk our taste buds into lunch. After our trek up the long hill, those chicken nuggets and burgers never tasted so good as we delighted in a place to sit, eat and play cards ~ out of the rain and free from the need to lug our bags any further!
Just before 11:30 a.m., our Daihatsu Bego 4-wheel drive ~ aka our ticket to freedom from public transportation and the beast of burden that would carry our luggage for the remainder of our trip ~ arrived like a silver knight in shining armor. {Although we had never heard of this make and model of car, the fuel-efficient, compact 4-wheel drive Bego is ubiquitous in Costa Rica.} The process of completing paperwork with the Mapache Rental Car agent was longer than expected. We had to stick to our guns quite a bit to fend off the hard-sell of buying insurance from Mapache. After a good deal of research, we had learned that our Visa credit card would provide rental car insurance, but only if we declined any additional insurance over the minimum required by Costa Rica law. After much back and forth, we finally had to give the agent the copy of our credit card agreement that we'd brought with us before he would let us leave without purchasing the additional insurance.
We piled our luggage into the tiny rear compartment and climbed in excitedly to this small but cute and functional chariot. We were surprised to see that it had a manual transmission ~ it had been 20 years since I had driven a stick shift and nearly that long for Bill. {I was taken back to the time that I first taught myself how to drive a stick shift on a rental car that I drove from Lake Tahoe to the Bay Area during my blackjack-dealing days ~ this sink-or-swim approach worked well for me on more than one occasion in my life.} As Bill got the seat and mirrors adjusted, I pulled out the detailed driving directions and map that I'd found online that read something like this: "After 12 minutes, you will pass a one-lane bridge; after 7 minutes, you will turn right." You see, Costa Rica is notorious for its lack of directional and street signs, with directions provided primarily in the form of landmarks. All part of the experience!
We set our for the next leg of our adventure and, as Bill looked down to tune the radio, I was just about to nag him about watching the road when we both saw a van passing another car and heading straight for us in our lane. This provided a very quick lesson on the need to be ever-vigilant when driving in Costa Rica! The 3.5-hour drive to La Fortuna wound through some of the most beautiful mountains and valleys in the Central Valley of Costa Rica, with breathtaking and panoramic views of the countryside and equally breathtaking scenes of hairpin turns and cars, trucks and buses passing each other around blind curves. On the road again. . .
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