The Lobster
The highlights and lowlights of my first trip to Costa Rica occurred outside of the NASA offices. Tom, DD and I took off to a place called Manuel Antonio on the Pacific Ocean. Manuel Antonio is just outside of a small town called Quepos on the west coast of Costa Rica and hidden along the hillsides with majestic views of the jungle bordering a thin strip of beach with giant rock island formations about a quarter of a mile out. The three of us ventured off one evening after work. Tom loaded up with a couple bags of potato chips, two bottles of Guaro which is the equivalent of the American farmer’s corn liquor with a brutal taste, chest burning after taste and label on par with Mad Dog 20/20. In layman’s terms, its bum’s liquor, along with a couple six packs of Imperial Beer, the local brew. The three of us then ventured through the dirty seedy areas of downtown San Jose en route to the bus stop where we were getting ready for a 4 hour trip through the mountains and down into the west coast of Costa Rica which is 20 minutes by flight but the BOS workers just were not paid enough to afford air travel.
The three of us boarded the bus, taking the back seats where we patiently consumed beer as Tom had already chugged the Guaro before we could get on the bus. We were patient because there were no stops along the way to drain the bladder. About two hours into the trip I look over and notice Tom has downed all the beer and cannot wait any longer so he quickly ate all the potato chips than in MacGyver* like fashion used the potato chip bag as his own personal potty. Disgustingly he sprayed the rest of us inside the bus with the wind blowing his make shift potty back into the bus. That was about as unpleasant as the trip would get and really scar me on bus travel in Costa Rica. Luckily we traveled by night and I was unable to see the rickety old bridge with alligators or crocodiles hanging out below. I am not sure exactly about the differences between the two but they were big lizards in the daylight. The bridge was literally big enough to have about 3 inches of grace room on each side of the bridge before it was time to test oneself in a speed swimming contest against a gator.
We arrived in Quepos at nightfall. It is a dirty little Central American town bordered by the incredibly beautiful Manuel Antonio. We spent three hours on the bus and decided to do the last two miles on foot while sharing some wacky Costa Rican grown tobacco as we ventured through the jungle en route to our hotel up in the hills while carrying our daypacks. The night was very clear as if it had just rained and thousands of stars shown in the night through the jungle trees on the single road up to Manuel Antonio. While walking under the moonlight I never thought I would see a giant satellite dish in the middle of the jungle big enough to engulf a couple of Hummer sports utility vehicles. The whacky tobacco was certainly making me question my own vision. This was my first time in a jungle and I fell in love with it from the get go. I thought it would be really nice to see during the daylight and see what was howling and chirping.
After checking into the hotel we quickly unpacked and were ready to appease our growling stomachs. Dinner the first night was spent in Quepos where we wanted to parlay the evening with the nightlife at the nightclub inside the Holiday Inn where music could be heard blasting from blocks away and social beverages were undoubtedly flowing freely. We took a cab into Quepos and once I got out of the cab I had to step over a poor fellow who looked like Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street with a full grizzly beard and hair covering just about the rest of his body was taking a nap/passed out next to the gutter. I had to do a double take at the grizzled fellow and realized he was wearing a natural sweater of human hair. Then I had to walk across a wooden plank over the gutter as turds and piss flowed by below, not exactly the ambiance you want for a mouth watering dinner. The picture on the outside of the restaurant would never be confused with elegant or even a 2-star restaurant but the food inside was delicious and the American dollar was quite strong back in 2000 before the US dollar began to decline. The entertainment was none other than good old porn on television. Was I in romantic Paris? No this was just a simple town lost on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica that catered to the poor man’s budget. The entrée for the evening consisted of pollo (chicken) and fresh seafood accompanied by bottle after bottle of beer for 250 colones (Costa Rican currency) which was than the equivalent of about $.75 US. Later that night I spoiled myself spending about 500 colones for Coronas with loud music, dancing and socializing with the party friendly beach dwellers at the Holiday Inn. The only thing I didn’t like was all the beautiful, friendly girls in this beach community that teased my manhood to the point of frustration.
I often enjoyed the nightlife throughout my first trip to Costa Rica. And there was a lot of nightlife to be had. There were plenty of bars, nightclubs, strip bars, and the more popular tourist medical bars. The medical bars where unique where every girl in the place was ready to give you a sample of Costa Rican health care/hospitality by checking out your balls with a firm squeeze followed by some Spanish. Since I am not completely fluent in Spanish I assumed the girls were saying “Turn your head to the left and cough”, just like doctor's do back home when getting a physical. The one thing I didn’t do was take advantage of these natural pleasure resources staying true to my girlfriend back in Los Angeles. So that night in Quepos was generally a night full of cheap beer and cheap laughs with a pending hangover to commence.
Upon returning to the hotel I tried to sleep out on the balcony as the full moon shine down on the Pacific Ocean from our hotel room a couple hundred feet above the ocean surface. The hotel view at night was beautiful. I wanted to soak it all up by sleeping out on the patio in the hammock. After a nightcap and a smoke with Tom and DD, I lay down to rest in the company of the hordes of flying bugs that also seemed to enjoy the views of Manuel Antonio. After about maybe an hour of trying to sleep with buzzing going on in my ears and consistently slapping myself in a not so pleasing manner to ward off the bugs I retreated to the safety of the hotel room and crashed on the couch as Tom and DD occupied the bedroom of our suite. As I looked up at the ceiling of the darkened hotel room listening to absolute peace and quiet with the exception of a few chirping crickets and an occasional restless howler monkey, I smiled to myself knowing I was going to be in for a pleasant nights rest.
Waking up the next morning a hangover would have been justified but the beauty of Manuel Antonio was breath taking that morning offsetting anything that could be construed as throbbing cranial pain. Not to mention we were out very late and never settled in long enough for a hangover. I sparked up with Tom on the balcony while gazing out across the awe inspiring views of the Pacific blue ocean under equally clear blue skies with not a cloud in sight. The morning was perfect. I took a moderately cool shower that was offset by the intense heat that I could feel inside the open air hotel room. Then, I adjourned to the balcony with the sun crashing down against my pale off-white California skin for some much needed breakfast compliments of DD. She cooked up a healthy combination of eggs, toast, and sausage while Tom rolled joints and I mixed bloody marys and screwdrivers. The simplest breakfast was enhanced greatly by the drink and Mother Nature at her best blasting her warm rays of sunshine down on us along the hillsides of the Costa Rican Pacific coastline while the parrots and howler monkeys gawked and screeched respectively.
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