Escape from Costa Rica

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I last left you all stranded in San Jose with an itchy crotch, a vile demeanour, and in desperate need of fresh underpants... my friend Jackie suggested I keep my soiled socks for the return flight when I can pull them out in mid-flight and have my very own terrorist extravaganza... JIHAD!

I spent my purgatory in San Jose with a charming French biologist named Isabelle and we partook in eating various delicious local dishes, sampling some of the best espressos I have ever had, and drinking as many Costa Rican beers my exhausted body could handle. It’s funny how food and drinks taste sooo much better on vacation!

My bus to Managua, Nicaragua was leaving at 3 am and I still had no luggage... around 11pm my backpack arrived at the guesthouse with a thump like a drunk crashing after a three day bender... I jumped on my bag and hugged it dearly to my chest before berating it and asking where it had been all this time... I then proceeded to strip it down, extracting the valuable soap and boxer-shorts to then take a most enjoyable shower(the entire population of the guest house finally started breathing again)... ahhh, to be semi-human again(the feeling would not last)! By the time I got to bed it was 1am, and although I closed my eyes I don’t think I actually lost consciousness at any point... at around 2am I dragged my sorry-ass out of bed and called a cab for the Tica-Bus station... San Jose at night sort of resembles Las Vegas if George Bush would have won another 3 mandates... junkies and freaks dot the streets here and there with the occasional well armed policeman shaking down homeless children for bribes... actually sounds like Obama’s Washington right now!

The atmosphere on the bus was most festive as it was New Year’s Eve. Everyone referred to each other as “Mi Amor” and whenever someone got off the bus they were sent off with countless Feliz Aňo Nuevos. I can’t actually fathom this taking place in a Canadian bus unless everyone was pissed drunk or on acid...

The Peňas Blancas border with Nicaragua was a happy zoo filled with Costa Ricans and Nicaraguans bustling to and fro in order to make it home for the New Year. The only unpleasantness came in the form of a Costa Rican guard hopped -up on paint-thinner and an extremely large ego who kept pushing me forward in the line, then stopping me harshly and then pushing me some more... although I was in excellent spirits I was also sleep deprived and had to delve deep inside to find the patience to not use mortal hand-to-hand combat moves I had acquired during my years with the Israeli special forces...
Eventually we got through and then I began to ask myself where exactly I planned on celebrating New Years that night... you see until then I was keeping my options open, but now that I was actually in Nicaragua I had to make a decision... I was toying with making things easy on myself and getting off in San Juan Del Sur, a small surfing resort just passed the border... luckily I met some Quebecois girls who unknowingly convinced me not to go... first of all of all I don’t yet surf and more importantly I don’t do resorts!

I then thought of getting off in Grenada, a lovely colonial city, and the country’s economic engine, but unfortunately the philosophical capital of conservative politics which served as the political hub for the Contras during the US instigated civil war/massacre(thank you Ron Regan: defender of freedom and democracy for no one save himself)... Although I intended to visit the city it just seemed a bit strange to be celebrating New Years here when the philosophical capital of liberalism and the Sandanistas(Leon) awaited just an hour past my terminus.

And so, having reached Managua and the end of the line(in every sense possible) ... I reluctantly got out expecting mortar fire and battling militias... It was not nearly as dreary and dangerous as I thought till I remembered that it was 11am and not 11pm! Managua kinda reminded me of pictures of South Central Los Angeles at the height of the crack epidemic but with more flowers and way more guns(hard to imagine)... as I value my life, and was in no mood to bring to bear my extensive counter-insurgency training, acquired during my days with the Ugandan Military fighting the Lord’s Resistance Army, I decided to head to Leon without delay... I got in a shared cab, which my guidebook warns against, and asked for the Leon bus station. My taxi driver was nice enough and his warnings of not trusting Managuan women, yet still recommending me to give them a whirl, kinda reinforced my belief that Managua is a city worth passing through rapidly... after heeding half his well-intended advice(I’ll let you decide which) I threw myself onto a packed “Chicken Bus”, minus the chickens, and braced myself for the hour-long journey to Leon...

The escapade continues shortly...

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Comments

[Pinouche]

Training
Geez, I never realized how much military training you received on your travells. Such hidden talents! Keep a tight hold on that back-pack, your underwear and your socks! Smooches, Pinouche XXOO