Published: April 11th 2015
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Up early as the local busses to elsewhere were revving to go at the crack of dawn. I had hoped to sit out on the pool patio in the early breeze. Instead, I found a quiet little nook within the building to record my journal. By six-thirty, all the bus racket had ended and it was pleasant to sit outside for the included breakfast. Not as comprehensive as in Fortuna. Tom, the owner, circulated amongst the guests.

Since the street was quiet, we decided to walk around and find a place for lunch. It was quite a surprise to find that we were only a few blocks from the pedestrian streets we had walked yesterday. We could have avoided all those rowdy bars and tired whores.

Our bus arrived half an hour late. Traffic was fine out of the city and only started to congest when we got to the national park. Bumper to bumper in both directions and with fitful stop and starts. It seemed that it was all downhill through the park with more turns than the drive north had been.

Approaching Limon, on the eastern coast, more and more fruit plantations and processing plants appeared on both sides of the road. Even closer were acres of shipping containers waiting to be filled with pineapple and bananas and shipped around the world. Laden trucks spewed their black death for the next 20kilometres. I wouldn’t dare pull over as, by the frustrated expressions on the faces of drivers trying to merge showed, it might take a while.

It was dark when we reached our cabin for our stay here. This was after a 40 kilo detour. The driver tried to let us off at a place with a similar name at a town further down the road. I had seen the sign for Coahuila earlier but said nothing, thinking the driver knew another way into town.

He left us in the shadow of the barred reception booth. There was a phone laying on the shelf and we used it to contact the owner. She showed up a few minutes later riding her bike. Even though it was dark, I knew there was one beautiful thing here. She showed us to our cabin and left. This place is fully equipped so we will be able to prepare our own breakfast and lunch.

I just had to stretch my legs so decided to head back into town to grab something to eat and buy some water. I had a nice calamari in coconut sauce. When it came time to pay, I found I was short. The cook/owner was a kindly soul and said I could pay him tomorrow. On the way back the Rasta man found me. I took him we would talk after I went and paid off my check. After that, I again forgot to buy water but was well stocked for breakfast . All in all, I made three trips to town. Not so bad though, it is only five minutes each way.

Spent the rest of the evening in the hammock, listening to the surf. It is close but not sure in which directing. Destination for tomorrow, fer sure.


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