After the tour finished at about 9:00 a.m. we ate a little
and hung around until our vans departed for Flores.
We stopped back by our hotel on the way back to pick up luggage and arrived
just before 11:00 a.m. Here we encountered a little problem. We were almost out
of money and had nothing to do until 10:00 p.m. when our bus would depart. We
each had about the equivalent of $2.00 in Córdobas, which were roughly
20 to the dollar, and being at the very end of our trip with the rest of our
transportation paid for, we refused to pay ATM transaction fees for just a few
more dollars of foreign currency. We found a hostel that would hold our luggage
for the day for just 5 Córdobas, and then wandered around the little town that was
actually formed on a landmass surrounded by rivers. We learned that it was one
of the last strongholds for the natives as their territory was continually
shrinking from European invasion. We were approached by several tour guides
trying to offer us boat rides and cave excursions which might have been nice
had we had a little more cash, but we had to just make due killing time. Katy bought a sleep aid pill for the bus ride back
and I a beer for the equivalent of 50 cents and a few postcards.
With several hours left to kill and the temperature rising,
we searched for some shade (of which there was very little) to just sit and
relax. We were hungry, but only had enough for one meal so we figured it best
to wait and eat later so as not to be too hungry on the bus. We finally found a
spot near the water next to a dock under the shade of a tree. We tried to relax
but the ground was rocky and rather uncomfortable. There were also an unusual
amount of flies buzzing around. We tried our best to ignore them until I began
to notice something smelled funny. I looked to my right and realized we had sat
down right next to a pile of dog poop. I gave a shout of disgust which was
echoed by Katy. Then, taking
everything into perspective, we started laughing hysterically. “It’s like we’re
homeless!” I said. We were tired, hungry, poor, felt dirty, and were surrounded
by flies.
We picked ourselves up and, wiping the tears from my eyes
from laughing so hard, I suggested we try the other side of the island where we
had seen a couple trees. We found a good spot, but decided we’d be better off
with a blanket on the bumpy grass. Of course, by the time I got back from our
hotel with a blanket, a guy with an snow cone cart on wheels had parked right
next to our spot and some other vagabonds were hanging around making
conversation. “Great!” I thought. “Now we’re competing for plots of grass! I’m
not sure this can get any worse.”
There was a bridge crossing the river that lead to a small
park area with a couple trees and we decided to try that out. As we were
spreading out our blanket, a local about our age approached us, asking what we
were doing. He told us that napping on the grass was a bad idea, making
ourselves a target for a possible mugging. So now we felt like some odd combination
between homeless people and naïve tourists. There was an empty little
refreshment bar with some tables out front and he invited us to have a seat. I
think he had already been drinking some, but he seemed harmless and there were
two of us plus the bartender, so we figured we were ok. He bought us each
beers, but Katy didn’t want to drink
so I ended up with two. We went on to talk about all kinds of stuff, including
where we had been and where we were going and he talked all about his past.
He’d made it to the states to work illegally, but then was discovered and
deported. He hadn’t seen his family for years and his mom was supposedly
finally arriving by plane that day. Why he thought it would be a good idea to
get drunk before her arrival is beyond me, but he eventually got there. I got
close too, considering he insisted on buying Katy
beers that she handed off to me. After a few hours of rambling conversation
that eventually was more annoying than amusing, we decided to make our exit. I
had had 3, trying to distract myself from my rumbling stomach, and had reached
my limit, but I felt bad leaving two full beers on the table. He got a phone
call and when his back was turned I dumped the warmer of the two on the grass.
I figured one full beer was okay and maybe he’d drink it himself. That might
sound like a waste, but you have to realize that the beer was cheap, and not
accepting the offer would have been worse. In his state he wouldn’t know I
hadn’t drunk it. After he finished his call, we thanked him for his generosity
and left. He was sad to lose his company, but wished us well.
We had finally arrived at dinner time and decided to
surrender the last of our dollars to a meal, but it had to be cheap. I had 27
Córdobas left and Katy had 30. She had
a craving for a burger and I felt like pasta. We browsed menus of several
restaurants and none offered both items inexpensively. I found a place with a
cheap spaghetti marinara plate and Katy
saw a sign for burgers and set off to get one to go, planning to return and eat
it at my table. I didn’t sit at my table long before two 30-something guys, the
only other people there, invited me over to their table. My food came and I was
relieved that it was a large-sized portion that would fill me up. My new
acquaintances were very interesting people and made great conversation. It
turns out they were both gay, a suspicion I had from the start, and were
actually exes, but still friends and were traveling together. We made
conversation about their past, which they were surprisingly open about (they
had had a couple drinks) and each told stories of our travels. Katy arrived with her burger and joined the
conversation.
We stayed chatting there in the restaurant after our food
was gone, which helped to pass more time. Finally 9:30 p.m. rolled around and
we returned to the hostel to collect our bags and walk to the bus stop. The
arrival of the bus was a great relief and the beginning of our journey home.
The 8-hour bus ride passed in no time for Katy,
who was lucky enough to not have anyone sit in the seat next to her and, with
the help of her pill, passed out for the whole trip. I on the other hand,
having not had a problem sleeping the first time, opted not to buy a pill, but
got stuck sitting with someone next to me in a partially broken seat that
rocked from front to back with the driver’s every application of the break
pedal. I got little more than short cat naps and the ride dragged on through
the night. At 8:00 a.m. we arrived at the Guatemala bus station and found our
prearranged shuttle for the airport. I had to charge my $7.00 exit tax to my
credit card and bought an apple with the last of my change. I ended up with a
couple Córdobas to spare as souvenirs. We took a 45 minute flight back to Costa Rica and
a 2 hour bus ride back to Puntarenas. I arrived late afternoon, completely
exhausted and extremely grateful to collapse onto a comfortable bed and lay my
head on a pillow without lumps.
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