After we left Tamarindo, we traveled hard and stayed in a new place for three nights in a row. Each movement took between 3-6 hours so there was a lot of time for reflection. With the exception of the trip north to the Costa Rica/Nicaragua border, we’ve found affordable means of comfortable and efficient travel. (We’re avoiding stinky rinky local buses.) We splurged on the trip to the border, hiring a private driver for $100 a piece, because what normally would take 10-18 hours of travel time (with no delays) and multiple local connections only took us 4.5 hours (sans one small breakdown on a one-lane bridge) and saved us a full day on the trip and massive mental exhalation.

Driving through Costa Rica was absolutely beautiful, I will admit. The glowing greens in the mountains and rain forests, highlighted by the reds, pinks, oranges, and yellows of the yawning flowers, as well as the fields of coffee and pineapple plants and coconut and banana trees made the travel an experience in itself.

Not only do I enjoy watching the countryside roll for this discovery, but also for the self-thought and reflection, and the content, somewhat laziness of the moment, where I sit still, almost removed, and still get to see the world pass by. It’s an easy and pleasing thing to experience. That’s why it doesn’t surprise me to get a sinking feeling when I’m nearing my destination and realize I have to re-insert myself.

When I’m not thinking and watching, sometimes I read or write. I brought the bulky book of ‘Basic Economics’ in hopes of prepping myself during this trip for school, but that was a big mistake and lump of space in my backpack. Wishful thinking. My Apple Macbook Pro (shameless plug) has been a blessing though.

On one of the trips we traveled between the two mountain towns of Monteverde and La Fortuna, we took a jeep-like bus, then a boat, then another jeep-like bus. It was a neat leg. Marshall and I crammed up front next to the driver while other people sat in the back rows. There were two vehicles traveling together. At one point we passed a large pig loitering in the road and the driver of the first jeep stopped, got out, walked over to our driver and rattled something in Spanish that I didn’t understand. Our driver responded by shaking his head, no.

I asked Marshall what he said, and Marshall replied, “He asked if we had room in our jeep for the pig”.

After this, the other driver opened the passenger sliding door to his vehicle, looked inside, closed the door, came around, looked at his rear bumper, then walked over to our driver and said something else through the window, who laughed in response. Again I asked Marshall.

“He said they could always tie it to the bumper.” The driver got back in his jeep and took off. I laughed for a while at this random exchange and was disappointed when Marshall later said he had no idea what they said and that he made it all up. Smooth.

In the town of La Fortuna we stayed at a hostel in one of those communal rooms. We were the only two guys, with six other girls which was cool at first thought but bad in the morning because we didn’t want to wake up crack early and they all did, doing the annoying zipping and re-packing game with their luggage for what seemed like hours, keeping us from beauty sleep.

The town volcano actually erupted the day we arrived, which was cool because if you looked closely you could see some ooze. Later we went hiking to the giant waterfall near the base where we people watched and swam. Sometimes on a two-dude trip if you don’t plan ahead and scout out girls to accompany you on things like this, you’re stuck experiencing the majesty together and alone, in which case you’re never allowed to comment; rather, you simply nod in approval and appreciate the moments in silence. Or you just take crazy pictures.

The night before, we went out dancing at the local discoteca, which was funny because no girls would dance with me. Actually I did get this one local girl to dance, but I think it was because I stooped and gave her major puppy dog eyes in hopes of her teaching me a little latin flavor on the floor. One dance it was and no repeats unfortunately, for they all must have an image to protect in this town, particularly in the art of salsa dancing, and when you have a white guy in sandals moving his hips like a uncoordinated bull, I don’t really blame them.

The neatest part of the night came when they randomly parted the seas of people on the floor and a guy came on the loud speaker and introduced several girls who were going to belly dance for the crowd. They did and it was ok. Afterwards, the encore showed up and it was in the form of the main belly dancer, who kicked ass. Apparently there is a La Fortuna Belly Dancing Club and she is the ring-leader. Belly dancing is pretty cool, but belly dancing to salsa infused beats is awesome. She did some inspiring things. (Sometimes I have to remember that I’m a guy and I shouldn’t try to replicate girl dance moves.)

After the show, Marshall boldly asked her to dance and she told him a cold quick no, so I didn’t feel so bad about my rejections.