Wednesday, November 23

Manuel Antonio Part Dos

Here's everybody on the buseta, as we started out.

That's Yohana and Eduardo up front, and some seats with people behind them.

That small space to the left of Eduardo is where I would eventually find my home for most of the trip, as it allowed me a semi-direct view out the front windshield. Of course, when I first sat down in the fold-out seat and leaned back, the back rest broke and I ended up horizontal. Great. So I had to ride bench-style.

On the way we stopped so Yohana, the budding architect, could get some shots of the old casas bananeras, originally built to house banana plantation workers. Of course I took advantage to use the bathroom and get some shots of my own!

Some nice folks at what appeared to be a group home of some sort for those trying to get their lives on track kindly let us use their restroom, free of charge. It's not uncommon for establishments to charge people to use the restroom if you are not a customer.

Here are some of the words of inspiration that could be found throughout.

Edgardo and Yohana in Manuel Antonio, after about a 3-hour ride. Pretty quick.

I title this photo "Las difuntas," in memory of my now deceased brand-new flip flops. They were my second pair there, after my 7-year-old one perished one fateful morning. These lasted long enough to get all the way to Puerto Escondido (about an hour's walk after we went the wrong way) and then bit it just as I was getting down to the beach. I had to walk back through the forest, along a not-so-smooth cement path, barefoot. And spend the rest of the day that way. Now, mind you, there was a time that I would go everywhere barefoot, but that was back in Buff, and even then my feet were not so tough at the beginning of the summer.

Lastly, everybody finally on the beach: Glen, Vero, Eduardo, Edgardo, Yohana and Isabel.

Faltan: Merlyn and her mom.

We opted for the main one, as the more private ones we were trying to find were not up to par.

When we got back to the buseta before heading to lunch, we luckily ran into the driver and his two friends, just coming back from wherever. They hadn't gone swimming yet, so they decided to do that while we ate.

After lunch the adventures continued. When we got back to the buseta, the Three Amigos were just getting back from swimming. Good timing! one might be thinking. Well, not so fast. Driver and Amigo A needed to go get changed. Amigo B stayed "with the buseta" (translation: aways yonder, not with us). How much time would you say one would need to take a quick fresh-water shower and change their clothes? Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, perhaps? No, sillies, these fine gents required upwards of an hour to do whatever it is they had to do. So instead of leaving around 4 or so, we left well after 5.

But it doesn't stop there, see, because about an hour and a half into the drive (mind you, it gets dark early in CR), the buseta pulls over to the side with a busted belt of some sort. Now we're halfway between locations, stuck on the roadside. Another buseta was called from Palmares, but it would take them at least another hour and a half to get there (after we'd already been waiting an hour). Edgardo put up some reflective hazard triangles and stood out back with Merlyn trying to flag down anyone who would stop, and the rest of us hung out. Eventually Yohana's sheet and my giant towel came out and the younger lovers sprawled out in the "grass." I sat in the buseta, the spot I deemed safest, with the moms.

Eventually, as Edgardo had hoped, a man who had just dropped off a load of gringos at the beach was headed back to San Jose and stopped to pick us up. We grabbed our stuff, piled in, said good luck to the Three Amigos y vamonos! The guy who picked us up was really nice, his buseta was ten times nicer and had air conditioning, and I fell asleep on the way home, no barfiness!

We rolled in around 9 or so, and it was Tobedwego. Two days later I was to leave.

The End.


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