Pura Vida

Alajuela & San Pedro de Poas, COSTA RICA
Jan.29, 2015

From the book Colin is reading - Tim Cope's "Off the Rails"

So here I am, landed in Costa Rica [MAP - Leg II].  I am on my own, as Colin couldn't get the time off work - he will instead take some of his vacation in a month or so, and catch up with me then.

I'm starting off in this town called Alajuela - definitely not a tourist spot, but, close to the San Jose airport for my late evening arrival, and a heck of a lot cheaper than San Jose, the capital.  I'm in a B&B with a fantastic breakfast - none of this continental breakfast sugar pile of bread and jam, instead Costa Rican style rice and beans, eggs, bacon, fried caramelized plantains, coffee, fresh squeezed juice of some fruit or other...  After that, I can face anything.

Some people think of traveling solo as a Scary Thing.  It is, to start off with.  You basically show up knowing only what you've read (if you've had any time), what you've heard from other people, and hopefully with a place to stay for at least the first night or two.  But you have no idea if the people bite, if what you learned is in fact the language they speak, where is the bank, how to get food, what to do first, what to do next...

But, if I could deal with my IT department at work without getting fired, I could certainly navigate day to day life in central Costa Rica.  As with anything anywhere, pants on one leg at time, then set off one step at a time.

It becomes a series of small accomplishments and victories, maybe an occasional setback or two.  Finding the bank.  Finding food.  Finding the bus station and how to get around on local transport.  I find I become friends with a place only once I've walked around, got to know it a bit.  Because fear comes mainly from not knowing.

No lingering in Alajuela - after a day of taming the masses, I left for San Pedro de Poas on the bus, barely more than a school bus.  I rehearsed and used my best ever Spanish to ask the nice lady sitting in front of me about the place I wanted to get off - "get off by the yellow sign for Finca Nazareno" were my instructions, a farm about 2km outside of San Pedro.  Once off the bus I asked any local soul who would talk to me where Leo's place was, and was sent first in one direction, then in the other.  That's OK - I'm missing most of ski season this year, so wandering the road with my pack, Big Bertha, made my ski legs feel better.

When finally I set my pack down in my own little casita in Leo's back garden, I was elatedly proud.  Not necessarily on the edge of dangerous trouble, but, I wasn't sleeping in the ditch tonight.

As they like to say here in Costa Rica, Pura Vida...  Life is good.