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| On down the Pacific coast to the steamy Paradise Cabinas. We strategically positioned three fans around us but still sweat all night. Though it was tempting, we avoided the murky looking swimming pool. On to Jaco the next morning. We went for a walk along the palm lined beach and did yoga. Tried to find an ice cream cone, but it was too early. Saw a lot of people with tattoos. We were propositioned by gentlemen on horses for an expensive jungle tour. Seemed like a popular gringo Spring Break destination. We continued along the Pacific coast to Quepos and Playa Manuel Antonio. On the beach we drank cold drinks and ate watermelon all afternoon. A young man selling his own art described how the waves used to crash over large rocks at the mouth of the bay. They are smaller now and he believed it was due to global climate change. We went out to dinner where we received a warm welcome from the host, who led us in through streaming red, green, and yellow silken curtains. He threw up his arms and said, "Welcome to my Jamaican bar!" We enjoyed a dinner of fresh fried whole snapper listening to live Caribbean music, and finished the evening with black forest cake. Out to the beach to camp with the dogs. I awoke in the morning with something warm against my leg. A small white dog had curled up next to our tent. His friend was just a few feet away. We drove to the national park entrance. Several bird watching groups entered the park with us. Toucans were everywhere! We hiked further to secluded jungle coves and beaches ruled by large iguanas. Monkeys ran around in the trees above us on arboreal trails, connecting high branches with large leaps. We took a trail up a mountain for a view and arrived at the top drenched in sweat. On the way back down a small black and white hairy anteater crossed our path. We moved into a hotel that afternoon--too many bugs and fleas on the beach. We drank icy strawberry and pineapple drinks and watched the sunset. Back to the Jamaican Bar for Pizza night (and e-mail and foosball). Took an easy day the next day. Paddled in the surf a bit. The waves were not too big, but they sometimes closed out quickly. Got rolled up on the beach once, scraping up my shoulders and filling my ears with sand. Hung out at the pool and drank more icy tropical drinks. The next day we were on our way south. We drove a bumpy dirt road through endless palm plantations and finally arrived at the beautiful long white beach at Dominical. Had lunch in this small but thriving surfing community. Found a tranquil campsite at the far end of the road on the beach. Initially parked on a line of large marching ants, I moved Mo for fear he might be carried off. Great paddling session on waves of all sizes. As we watched the sun go down, a 3 wheeler came screaming down the beach. The driver finally let off the throttle just before he hit the rocks at the end of the beach. He turned around and opened it up again. The wind pressed against his beer belly and his pony tail sailed behind him. We then returned to our peaceful observance of the sunset. We left the next morning for Cerro Cirripo, the highest mountain in Costa Rica. Leah was driving as we entered the town of San Isidro de El General. We encountered a confusing labyrinth of one way streets and Leah got going the wrong way on one of them. As we turned around, we caught the attention of a motorcycle cop. He pulled us over, but did not want to write us a ticket. He would escort us through town. We told him we needed to stop at a bank first. As he led us through town he waved at everyone and stopped to shake many hands. He was obviously a very popular man and loved his job. He took us to a bank and then to the turn off to the mountain and waved us on. The police in Costa Rica are called the "Fuerza Publica", or the Public Force. They always seemed friendly and helpful; never a menacing threat. The road soon turned to dirt and became very bumpy. It was bothering Leah's back so we decided to turn around and head for Panama. It was a long, hot and humid drive through a greening landscape. We arrived at the border town but couldn't find the customs buildings. We asked a few people and they said we were already in Panama! It's a pretty lax border between the two countries, but to avoid any trouble, (after changing Mo's oil) we went back to the border and filed the necessary papers and got the necessary stamps. The money changers were entertaining a Downs Syndrome man. One was playing the guitar and others were clapping and beating on their brief cases and all were singing. The man began dancing in circles, faster and faster with a huge grin on his face. The money changers had humble smiles. We got some fried chicken and coconuts, and picked up a fellow gringo who'd biked down from California. He had his bike and most of his gear stolen and now had only a surf board and a small back pack. On to the city of David. |
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