Too Many Bodhi's Spoil the Beach


Advertisement
Published: March 14th 2012
Edit Blog Post

There wasn’t many areas to lie down at the spa and escape the screaming kids accept one pool that was an absolute scorcher. No one dared to enter it. So as I approached the lonely pool a few people watched on in anticipation of my reaction as I stepped in. I eased myself over time and managed a good 3 minutes. From then on I realised lying down to relax was not meant for here. Instead I’d have to wait until I explored some of Costa Rica and then try and block out the Bhodi’s on the Costa Rican beach.



My idea was to try and get to a beach that is nice and spend a few weeks to recoup properly. I was hoping for it to be Nicaragua but I fell short a destination before it. I spent some time exploring the middle starting with the capital San Jose.



Prostitution in San Jose is legal and when I arrived at the hostel there were two on the corner. I needed to go to the ATM to complete the check in process. By the time I left my bags at reception and walked out one had gone. By the time I walked the 3 blocks to the ATM and back the 2nd was gone. The next day a few who looked like men were at the same corner.



The whole reason to visit San Jose was to get to Volcan Irazu. This is the most common of volcanos in the Costa Rican brochure. It’s the one with the turquoise-green lake inside the cone. To get here is a half-day trip from San Jose. Tours are expensive and there is public transport that takes you there and back which is much cheaper.



I was expecting a bit more than what I got. It was my first taste of Costa Rica and I didn’t like it. As I approached the lip of the volcano, a log fence blocked off any chance for a decent view of the inside. Large green leaves and some flowers cover parts of the volcano, which is now extinct.



To get a decent view people had to get up onto a half trashed brick wall to get their photo. I on the other hand walked underneath the fence and those around me were shocked at my actions. Please note some photos are taken from this angle. Time is restricted to only a couple of hours and there is no easy trail to explore any further. And no indication on how long it would take to get back.



From that disappointment, to travel time - I can’t wait… I just can’t wait for someone to tell me how easy it is to travel Central America. I don’t recall one person telling me the truth about travelling here. I was lied to by everyone. So many times I’ve heard people say. “Oh its so easy to get around.” And, “The beauty, is that the Pacific is like 4 hours away from the Caribbean.”



These people either were on tour, took the tourist shuttles all the time or smoked too much of the local stuff to realise that it took longer than they thought. The roads once off the Hwy 1 are terrible.



Costa Rica is known as the most advanced of the central countries. It’s the most expensive and the locals seem better off but money has not been put onto roads. One time I was lucky to bump into a Dutch woman who had a car so that made one trip okay.



The next was going to see 3 changes over miniscule distances and would take 9 hours. On the tourist shuttle service it took 3. I continually said to myself. “Oh yeah its so easy to get around here.”



La Fortuna was the next destination; I saw a photo of natural hot springs, the volcano in the background as two people sit in a natural hot spring. Pictures told a thousand words but in reality if you go to Baldi hot springs it is just one word - Crap.



It sums up Costa Rica really, tourism has taken over here and it’s for the less confident traveller who’s testing the waters of off the beaten track travel. For me, not to sound pig headed, its boring and expensive.



Baldi is ideal to go in the evening especially in the xmas, new years period. Children are in all the tame pools screaming and carrying on. It is a fun park version of natural hot springs with themed pool and water slides and who knows if it is ‘natural’- there was no smell. So night is the only peaceful time. The natural hot spring pools are probably reserved for TV shows like the Bachelor like one of the billboards say on the way in.



The next day I went zip lining through the forest of the volcano. Again packed with USA and Canadian tourists. This meant there were only two buzzes of the 14 lines I swung along. It was too much stop and starting. The highlight was the Tarzan swing where you do a very mini gorge swing. There were two 4 year old kids and one was strapped in and the workers picked him up and realised him by throwing him down with force. The kid loved it.



I heard later that Monteverde was better; this is where I ended up for New Years. It was quiet in a sense especially after last years sneaking into the Sheraton Hotel in Addis Ababa. I was content that I wouldn’t beat it, the hostel was small and good enough company to get pissed and go to a nightclub. Whilst there I found motivation to test out my Spanish in the form of a hot local from San Jose. She was not a prostitute but was there with her brother, which means the same for me either way.



I know I am sounding down on Costa Rica but here’s another problem. I went to Reserva Biologica Bosque Nuboso Monteverde - A cloud forest reserve. It was nice, really nice but it cost me $20 and it was just down the road. It was no tour just me walking on my own. I don’t think you get your monies worth compared to elsewhere. I couldn’t even get a hot shower for most of my stay in Central America (not that you need it.)



From a disappointing week I hit Tamarindo (Nicknamed Tamagringo – after the nickname, gringo, as in foreigner) probably the worst place to end up after the synopsis above but I came here for turtle nesting and my poor research of the region was really starting to stand out. Turtle nesting is everywhere and here is probably the worst place on the coast.



They try and make it sound like a turtle came 2 days ago but waiting till 2am and 4 hours in the sand, I don’t know. Whilst waiting the guide went through some information like how 30 years ago 1000 turtles use to nest here now its like 30 because of the development and the thumping of nightly music on the coast. The nesting is on the beach north of the main beach with limited development but still it’s too close to Tamarindo.



Apparently a turtle knows its home from the texture of the sand but that sand is now home to gringos and future Bodhi’s. I have never seen so many prams being pushed on a beach before as g-string wearing MILF Americans go on their daily walk. Police on motorbikes patrol the beach. It’s still kept some of its charm like the long stretch of beach but it lacks culture in almost every way.



It is now dominated by North American tourists building apartments and little holiday homes. Opening little take away shops or cafes. In contrast to other places in the world it’s kept it low scale till now but it has the bars and restaurants that indicate high tourist influx. It also is a haven in January for the Argentine tourist.



Now Argentines are nice people but when they come in groups, which was the hostel I stayed at, they are almost unbearable. There were only a few non-Argentines so it was a bonding of necessity to compete with their group. In all honesty I wanted out. I was planning 2 days or play it by ear.



I ended up testing out a new story which has not been typed up on this blog thinking I won’t be seeing these people again so any embarrassment will be short lived. I tell three people half the story and the owner tells us to move on we are closed. I put my laptop and the now 1/4 left bottle of rum in my room and came back to a now 7 crowd with people saying, “I have to hear this story. How does it finish?”



This is one of those stories to be told over a drink or two and not on this blog but gives an indication on when I know I’ve got a good story. I use other backpackers reactions as an indication on how I should tell a story on the blog and for the future. What this story meant was that nearly every new person that arrived and became my friend or acquaintance heard about the story from someone else. When that happens you know you are on a good thing.



I somehow ended up staying here for almost 3 weeks. Always telling reception “I should be leaving tomorrow.” And it was not because Tamarindo is anything special, it’s not. Just sometimes the body is telling you no more and it happened here.



I had a system going. Wake up at 630-7 have a quick breakfast and head to the beach for a sleep. By 1030 back to the hostel to do some stuff on the Internet. Lunch, followed by a siesta. By 4pm consider another stint at the beach till sunset (usually involving a light sleep). Back again for dinner than siesta again than on the piss till the early morning where I’d repeat this action for 2 more weeks.



Nightlife was good for Central American standards but ordinary really. You can always tell who’s the backpacker and who’s on their two week holiday tourist by the way they dress at a bar. It was set up nicely with 4 main bars and each one having their special night. But I’d say my ordinary comment has more so got to do with that it’s a bit same old same old for me. Beach town, a bar plays reggae and top 30 hits. Not my idea of a good time.



It was quite addictive getting pissed off with the young 18-19 year old Argentines not use to not having mummy and daddy cleaning up after them. Playing annoying music and singing all the bloody time got on my nerves too.



However one bar produced a few beaut stories that covered my bar scene blues. Sharky’s is an all American sports bar and every Sunday they have beer pong. On the back of my college experience on the US road Trip I was confident as I teamed up with my British mate I met at the hostel.



We win the first round no sweat. Come round two and we are playing a local guy and some other guy who both work at the sushi shop up the road (yes very Costa Rican cuisine) These guys are taking it really seriously and at one point I do a bounce move allowing the Tico (local) guy to swipe it away.





In his enthusiasm he swipes my shot and 3 of his cups over. I’m thinking oh bad luck mate you’ve just spilt your beers. But some in the audience were saying, “Take three cups away!” I didn’t care but under pressure from others they took it away.





They look like they are about to explode they are that pissed off. The game ends in overtime, which we take the lead. A few attempts later I throw and miss but the pong comes back to my side of the table. The rule is you get another shot behind your back if you re gather before the other team. I throw and it hits the rim after possibly hitting the guys hand as he tried to get in the way.



Next shot my English mate shoots and it’s blocked as it was going in. He then got another shot in and said. “No, no you stepped over the line.” I say, “What are you talking about his arms are too short for that.”





So in due time the Tico guy yells out, "I am Tico (Costa Rican) I can do what I want!” Some people from the hostel behind us start laughing at him on a dickhead comment and he steps over to our side and wanting to smash someone’s head in. Eventually we ease the situation and say we have one left each and be done with it. So that’s what we did and we lost.



Not all bad in the end but I’d be back in the bar about 9 days later for Karaoke. I was pretty grumpy at this point. I had got a sore throat again, probably tonsillitis. Very similar to the one I had back in Sudan a year earlier and I was not feeling the best.



There are many factors that could have contributed to this. One is the beach water quality got downgraded a few years ago so I put it down to that is the reason I got a sore throat. Also drinking out of glass bottles. Sometimes I forgot to clean the rim since sometimes companies only clean the inside of the bottle before re-distribution.



I met up with a friend of a friend of mine and could hardly talk. Eating and drinking was excruciating. So bad it took 90 mins to finish a meal than I had to have siesta to recover. The face scrunched up with every swallow. I was not the best company. Add to the pain was putting up with Argentines singing all the time. I did make some nice Argentine friends but the others were just torture.



The English guy kept on getting his milk stolen every morning. So a few times he went out and bought some fresh milk used it on his cereal than filled it up again with a bit of shampoo. The next day it was near empty. That was his way of getting back at them. Mine was more subtle.



With my throat slowly receding back to normal and able to talk. I took this as my opportunity for payback. Adele was the artist of choice for many of the female wanna be singers. Latino’s really think they have voices like the black divas of America but they are so wrong.



Knowing the way Argentines party they don’t leave until late so I made sure I got there by midnight and went straight to the karaoke DJ. No time for a beer, this was business. I say, “Has anyone done Adele’s, Someone like you?” He looks at me pleasantly and replies, “No, why, you wanna do it?” Before I could even complete the word “Yeah” he says “Your in!”



It was about an hour before it was my turn and its very busy. My name is announced and I rotate myself diagonally through the crowd. I grab the mike and notice that a bunch of people are on ‘my stage’. Than a bunch of Argentines are yelling out their friends name. Like it would be much better served if our Argentine Diva sings this than some guy from who knows where. I mean this is a female song… It was time to sing it for the boys!



The piano starts and the dot starts bouncing on the words. I forcibly move the mic from their hands and stretch out my left arm and ever so slightly remove them from the stage as I use their body to push myself to centre and front stage “I heard that you, settle down…” It was a hit (dare I say).



So much so it scored Karaoke song of the week. At the end of the song everyone was singing and I got a clap off at the end to not indicate get off but “Well done you had some balls to come up with that.” The next day I went to another bar and I saw people whispering to one another. “Hey… that’s the guy who sang Adele.” It was quite funny.



I’d have to say I nailed the first third but it was a slow deterioration of the voice meaning I couldn’t sing the last part, as the voice went again. It was a promise I made Robert Parish on the road trip in USA. It was on the radio so much that Parish woke from his slumber on the passenger seat and goes. “Are you singing Adele?” From then on I said I’d do it and with that I completed my promise.



By the time I left here I had a love hate relationship with the place. On top of the constant Argentine groups coming in. It’s a haven for beginner surfers. Which is the beginnings of the Bhodi’s of this world. When I say Bhodi I mean the Patrick Swayze character from the movie Point Break.



The waves are only small so for beginners it’s ideal. But it is over crowded with people with boards flying in the air. Surfers on surfboards are like 4WD’s of the waves. Just because they are bigger than you they think they own the world. So in the end it is hard to body surf.



Thus far Central America was full of surfers and they are nice enough but I don’t know? They’re a bit to show pony for me. Especially with the whole handshake thing of a clap in a handshake stance followed by a connecting fist… Please.



But it might be me jealous because they are surfing when really I should have been surfing since I was 10. I’d like to learn how to surf properly but I just can’t do it. I feel that, as a Sydneysider there is no excuse learning how to surf anywhere else. So this joy of life I have deprived myself. One day in the comfort of home I will learn but not on the crowded beach of Tamarindo.


Additional photos below
Photos: 60, Displayed: 34


Advertisement



15th March 2012

Blame it on the Bodhis...
[i]I've been to every city in Mexico. I came across an unclaimed piece of meat in Baja, turned out to be Rosie. I guessed he picked a knife fight with somebody better. Found one of your passports to Sumatra, I missed you by about a week at Fiji. But, I knew you wouldn't miss the fifty year storm, Bodhi. [i/] Great blog, and yeah you are right. Too many Bodhis in CR for me brah.

Tot: 0.111s; Tpl: 0.016s; cc: 10; qc: 24; dbt: 0.075s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1; ; mem: 1.2mb