ExploringRTW
Registered user
Costa Rica
I needed a replacement battery for my Polar heart monitor (well, the years are ticking by and you can’t be too careful!) and had found the only supplier in this part of Central America was San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. So, I set off towards San Jose and resolved to get as close as I could before checking into a hotel. Nightfall came and I was still riding (breaking a rule John and I are trying to establish of only riding in day-light). An hour or two more passed and still no sign of a Hotel, although San Jose was now only about 30km away(as opposed to the 295km at the start of the journey).
Out of the blue came a three star Hotel for people using the near-by airport. I was very tired and decided, despite the expensive looking gates, that I’d ask. The price was $75 US !!!! I almost fell over…..I felt like saying you do realise this is Central America but I was too tired …….and handed over my credit card…this was an expensive day. ….However, the room was excellent. It was big, very quiet, had a decent TV, very quiet air conditioning and a great bathroom. I was pleased.
I was in the process of preparing to have a shower before going down for dinner when I decided that I’d rather not go through the palaver of getting ready and being polite in the dinning area, and eat in my room. I asked for a menu on the phone which was promptly delivered. I ordered dinner and beer and they were promptly delivered. The food was excellent, and with the beer, came to about $7, which seemed out of place for the Hotels pricing. I watched X-men 2 and went to sleep………
….The sleep was good-I felt a bit more refreshed for a change. I enjoyed a powerful shower and set off to the buffet breakfast. Not quite in the European league but the orange juice and scrambled eggs were perfect ! That done, the bike was loaded next and I asked the receptionist if she could translate some of the instructions I’d been e-mailed as to how to find the Polar shop. She explained it all clearly and I set off.
All the original “signposts” the receptionist had translated popped up quickly with the exception of one problem, which was like most cities, and that was of including as many one way roads as possible, and San Jose was no exception ! To retrace my steps to find one building( which was given as a landmark to find the Polar shop) took a few attempts. That done I was confident that soon I‘d find it….well about 4 circuits later (yes, the one ways again !, and again, and....) I was pulling my hair out…it was very hot and very busy. I saw a young man standing outside a Casio shop and I thought maybe this was it…after a few mins I established it wasn‘t. I showed him my instructions (back to the first day of school again !) and he said he thought that the road and building I wanted were on the opposite side to that which the receptionist had suggested. I was confident that she’d understood them but I couldn’t deny I wasn’t finding it
and thought “why not“ and gave it a try. Within a minute I‘d found it !!!.Battery fitted I set off towards Volcan Irazu, one of Costa Ricans most popular volcanoes.
Signposting is not considered worthwhile apart from the major highways, and then a whole host of signs when you are very near to your destination. I relied almost solely on the GPS which has me winding all over the place but did finally get me to the correct road. It was $7 to get in to the National Park and 50cents to park !! and there was only 45 mins left……”sufficient time to see and photo the craters” I was assured. Well, I wasn’t going to leave now. I coughed up and went in.
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Ever wondered what a volcanoe signpost would look like ??.....
It is quite a thing seeing inside your first volcano…the surrounding area resembling a lunar landscape(although nothing compared to Bad Lands(see South Dakota entry). The centre of the volcanoe is covered by pea green water which you can see one minute and is obscured by cloud the next. I saw, photoed and left, setting off towards my next destination, the protected coastal resort of Manual Antonio.
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Inside the crater with cloud obscuring the lake.
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...once the cloud had cleared......
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My faithful Dakar waiting in the car park !!
The lack of maps and having only a basic GPS map drove me half crazy. I was zig-zagging all over the place for about 2 hours. Finally I decided that if I took one of the major highways out of the town I was in, I might pick up the road I wanted. I was correct, and despite low cloud and light rain I managed to find “my” turning. Time was getting on and despite my desire to arrive at Manual Antonio this evening, I decided to find a hotel soon as it was getting dark and I was on very bendy country lanes. I found a small motel-type room for about $14.
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The heating device for hot water in the shower...yes that is the shower head you can see...
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A common site throught all Central America-the TV caged in to stop theft !...and this was one of the more tasteful designs !!
The town was strange. It is situated in a beautiful valley and seems at one level, very peaceable but at another I couldn’t quite relax. Despite the town being stretched out in a pleasant manner, the bars all looked dodgy and had their fair share of drunks-there weren’t any restaurants that I could see, just chicken and chips & Pizzas. All-in-all, not quite what I would have liked. So, I had me chicken and chips, updated some of the log you’re reading now and went back to the room and me telly !!
Up a bit later this morning and a bit fuzzy headed. I was heading back towards Manual Antonio which was only 80km I learned before leaving my Motel. It was about 11 o’clock by the time I’d finished breakfast, and with only 80 clicks to cover I was looking forward to my day or so on the beach. I had to ask around (as is becoming usual) for directions and soon I was off.
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One of the earlier views I was able to see.....
30 mins later the tarmac ran out and I was down to dust, still no worries there and I just continued. Then the dust turned to rocks, still ok except it started to get very steep here and there ,and quite narrow which made corner navigation increasingly harder.
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The tarmac runs out...
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...staring to get a bit rougher but still faily predictable to ride on.
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A dry mud trail I came across- I was glad that it wasn´t wet or raining....................
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The weather started to close in a bit, and the cloud became almost intimidating..
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...as did my options for a route !
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Choice made..Right !...based on a chat I had with a lorry driver an hour or so ago.
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Just a bit further along I was presented with this for a corner..........
Then it was mud and rocks, getting steeper still and very winding. All was still going quite well, with the exception of one corner where I managed to skid the front wheel three times, almost falling off on every occasion, until it started to rain……those rocks-cum pebbles started to be very slippery, as did the mud. This continued for hour after hour and I was getting a little anxious. The bike was veering all over the place even at 5mph and I was getting nervous and very tired-It was all down hill literally and my forearms were aching from all the braking. I had to stop from time to time to rest for a few minutes, but this time was begining to become tempered by my concerns of worsening conditions. The GPS was approximately showing that I still had a long way to get to my destination and there were no other tangible signs that I was even on the right road for quite a while. The clouds were already around me and the drops off to the side not even viewable for fear of following them down. I was, as I say, anxious.
In the middle of nowhere I find a man with his wife and baby, broken down with his truck so I stop to see if I can help. I soon deduce that it is his battery and we laughingly set about working out how we could jump his truck from my bike, when, as if scheduled, a small lorry comes along. Even with its power, my truck drivers impatience not to let the charge take hold before attempting to start it, assured that his truck would not start and he decides to enlist the assistance of a friend of his using the cell phone of the lorry driver. The rain re-started and I got my jacket back on and was off. More down-hills, more rocks, more mud, more sliding….still I was more accepting of it now (although a bit concerned about running out of light or petrol before reaching Manual Antonio)
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In another middle of nowhere I find this booth selling bits and pieces, so the owner, his dog and I share a packet of biscuits I buy for lunch.
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A view of the rainforest from the owners booth.
As I was coming down yet another incline I saw a truck in my rear view mirror who was keen to get by so I slowed and let him……….as he passed I saw a stream appear in a hairpin at the bottom of the descent we were currently undertaking, a stream that his 4 x 4 struggled to get over and up a first ridge(wet from other vehicles), so much so that he stalled. I am very tired and I can’t believe my eyes-I had been convinced that the worst was over. I can’t go back the way I came and am almost confident the stream trip will generate a crash, so I try to calm myself down and break down the problem into managable chunks. I settle for getting across the stream in one, and then taking care of the ridge in a second step-I wrestle with the implications of letting off the power after the stream to get over the ridge but decide that control is better than the risk. To my amazement it works, I cross the stream and manage to get up the ridge without falling off. I am a happy man and confident that that is the worst I will see as I can sense I’m getting near the bottom.
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An idea of how rough some of the roads actualy got.
The hills continue and finally I run into a ‘traffic jam’ of about three vehicles as someone has crashed(I’m not surprised) and the police and a small ambulance are there……I still don’t know how they managed to get there…the roads were dismal. In fact, they originally headed up with their passenger(s) the way I had just come down but they turned round somewhere and came back down the hill again. I was soaked…my t-shirt was saturated with sweat and rain, my gloves with rain. I decide to take my gloves off.
After they’d gone, I set off again and discovered another wider stream not long after but it was the sort of stream I could look at, and prepare myself to enjoy. I did and I enjoyed it. The hills continued, as did the rain. Then I came to a wet wooden bridge with no sides, just a few planks running along where car wheels normally go and supporting planks running perpendicular to them. The normal car planks just weren’t an option as by this time they looked like ice to me, and so I decide to go for the perpendicular planks…but at the last minute I see that one is broken. I weigh it up again and it still looked a heathier option and so I wound up the Dakar and went across for all we were worth…and made it!! I felt like a cat who been presented with all their 9 lives for use in one day and I was rapidly getting through mine. Finally the hills start to come to an end and I start to feel a bit safer again. I come into the first village I have seen for about 2 hours and notice a large river to its left and a chap on a lightweight un-laden motorcycle who is just about crossing it. I’m sure it can’t be the way I need to go but go down to look as a matter of interest.
That done, I resume my route, only to be told by a villager, when checking to see if my exit road was correct, that the best way to the Manual Antonio is to cross the river, otherwise I will add Muy(many) Kilometres. My senses and body had been severely assaulted today and the thought of the crossing the river felt like another blow to my usual common sense so I consider the options of "muy" kilometres or the river. Filled with apprehension and resignation I turn back towards the river, knowing at one point, I was looking forward to an occasion such as this…before I left England. I looked on at the river, which was split into two sections, each about 70’ across and study the progress of a newish 4 x 4 going across. His route put the deepest point at just above his axle line. Then a truck goes through, their route similar but perhaps a bit deeper. I look on and wait for ‘my’ right moment.
It never comes and I try to remember the basic river crossing skills I learnt from a(the) Ford at Eynesford in Kent, and on the BMW off-road course in Wales, and the advice presented by Chris Scotts AM handbook. The last of which encourages you to walk it first if you don’t know it. I weigh all the advice and decide that if I ride in the path of one of the two vehicles I stand the best chance of making it. My experience has taught me to keep the power on and keep it steady, don’t go too fast but keep the power on even if it gets a bit bumpy.
I leave the shore and off I go, the bike wobbling on every stone it passes over-the steering veers as it fancies and I basically just keep the power on…at one point the drag seemed so significant I thought the bottom of the panniers might be in the river as well…(I‘m still not sure now)….I wobble this way, that way..and every time I’m convinced that I’ll be off soon……BUT I get to the other side and my antics are witnessed by a few spectators in the back of the lorry that had just crossed. My fist went up in the air, as did a couple of the guys in the truck who celebrated with me.(If you think it´s an over-reaction, look again at how much luggage I´m carrying !) One river down, one to go. I sit there still shaking from the first one but aware that keeping going is good. Off I go again…same saga, steering feels like the handlebars are connected to the top yoke by elastic bands, rear end feels like I’m displacing the stern of a boat…..BUT I make it again. Fist straight back up in the air again and joined again by one of the spectators in the lorry…who is now quite a distance away.
Not long after that I come across another wet wooden bridge and opt for the central perpendicular planks again. Finally I come to dry and dusty flat tracks which look like they are going somewhere. I finally get to Manual Antonio at about 5 o’clock and look down at my jacket and my bike, both now covered in a brown mud dust sticking to the wet from the rain. What a mess !! …. What an adventure !!
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My pad for two nights...and well earned they were too !!
I find a reasonably priced room at $25/night (many basic hotel rooms were going for $75!), have a good dinner and settle down into my bed……….My new neighbours must have somehow become aware of my new found celebrity status for surviving today and decide to party for most of the night with specific highlights being at about 1 and 4 am.
I appreciated their enthusiasm , particularly when calling and shouting to each other across the little forecourt that was formed in front of our habitations, and was delighted that the children felt they could join in too !! I think at one point their excitement got the better of them and they just needed to tell someone else as they went out in the car at about 1 or 2 and then came equally excited at 4. I was naturally pleased to have be recognised, the only thing was, they forgot to invite me !! When morning, the normal one, did arrive I thought I’d have a bit of a lay-in but my friends next door were unable to curb their enthusiasm as they seemed to want me up..and so carried on in jubilation from the previous night. I can be slow to know when I’m beat, but on this occasion I gave in, got up and prepared for a beach day. I got me cozi and me beach kit and set off for breakfast !
It was hot even in the shade and I was joined by a retired American chap who just couldn’t bear any more heat and so came into to sit in the shade to pass some time and have a chat.
Finally I pluck up the courage to leave for the beach….the sand is so hot it actually radiates heat similarily to an English crop field on a Summers day, albeit 4 or 5 times fiercer. After 5 mins of this I go in for a swim, there is no shock from the cold water as the water isn’t cold ! It’s somewhere between 70 & 75 degrees. It is actually hard to believe when you’ve been in the water for 5-10 mins that outside can be any hotter, but it is, and within 10 mins I’m cooking again. I go through this exercise 3 times over 2 hours and finally can bear no more-that and the fact that my back felt like it had been under the grill led me back to my room to prepare some web updates for you………as we´ve said before, there is no end to my sacrifice !! In the evening I catch-up with my e-mails and up-load two web updates.
The next day I prepare to leave for Panama and nip down to a beach café to get some breakfast before leaving. Whilst I’m finfishing Breakfast I meet up with two Dutch girls who are travelling through Central America and intend to walk the Matchu Pitchu in Peru and so we discuss the possibilities of meeting up.
Finally…….. I leave and have to drive quite a few miles to get some more money and petrol before heading off. It is phenomenally hot, and the upset stomach I’ve had for the past few days, is not helping. Finally I get back onto a bone-shaker of a road to leave Manual Antonio. 40 or so miles later and I’m back onto paved roads….with huge craters at unsuspecting points and places in the roads. The poor old Dakar thumps it’s way through a few of these this afternoon. All-in-all, Costa Rica was very expensive and I couldn’t help feeling at times that I was just another Gringo with Dollars and that any service I got was in the expectation of more Dollars. With this in my mind I wanted to leave as soon as possible and so was preparing myself for a long ride this afternoon to get across the border. By about 15:30 I’m very tired, hungry(ish), and still very hot and so decide to find somewhere to stop for lunch. I see a large restaurant which looks like the food won’t add to my stomach condition and so stop. I manage to get a decent salad and some fruit and bits and enjoy the breeze that cooled me down a bit. Just as I was coming to the end of lunch a chap apparently trips and spills some water just to the right of me and apologises-I say ok as everything is ok. 5 mins later I’m getting ready to leave and I realise my wallet is missing and further realise that the water incident was only a diversion !!…. I ask a few people if they saw anything and they have…just the people leaving in a green Hyundai- 2 guys and 3 girls. To cut a long story short, the Police are called and arrive in about 10 mins, I give them a report. Whilst waiting I learn that the same group had been operating in a nearby town yesterday as one guy I spoke to had felt them try to steal his wallet. What I don’t understand is, if he recognised them, why didn’t he say anything to anybody ? !!!!! I’ve lost in total about $140 and one credit and one debit card, plus the e-mail addresses of a number of people John and I have met recently. I now have no money and only the hope of access to a new account I opened in England before leaving. The account has not yet worked on a cash machine yet. I learn to my pleasant surprise that there is a cash machine not more that 10m from the restaurant, and further more learn that my card works !! , and manage to get enough money out to secure accomodation, food and petrol etc. I thank two of the girls who work at the restaurant in particular as they were very helpful. I pack up and leave even more disgruntled with Costa Rica and consider if I can still make it to Panama before it got too late. Dusk comes and goes and the pot-holes of the afternoon re-appear, the problem now is I often can’t see them until it’s too late. I hit quite a few but manage to take some of the weight of the bike out of some of them by pulling up as I hit them BUT I hit 3 or 4 really badly, one so much so that I can actually see gravel etc getting thrown up off of the front wheel and I am wary of what I might find in the morning. Finally I decide that the risk of continuing to drive is too great and start looking for a Hotel. No much further along I see a very smart look Hotel. Concious it may be expensive I ask at the desk. It was the equivalent of $9/7pounds !! How bizarre. I take the room !
Mike
I needed a replacement battery for my Polar heart monitor (well, the years are ticking by and you can’t be too careful!) and had found the only supplier in this part of Central America was San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. So, I set off towards San Jose and resolved to get as close as I could before checking into a hotel. Nightfall came and I was still riding (breaking a rule John and I are trying to establish of only riding in day-light). An hour or two more passed and still no sign of a Hotel, although San Jose was now only about 30km away(as opposed to the 295km at the start of the journey).
Out of the blue came a three star Hotel for people using the near-by airport. I was very tired and decided, despite the expensive looking gates, that I’d ask. The price was $75 US !!!! I almost fell over…..I felt like saying you do realise this is Central America but I was too tired …….and handed over my credit card…this was an expensive day. ….However, the room was excellent. It was big, very quiet, had a decent TV, very quiet air conditioning and a great bathroom. I was pleased.
I was in the process of preparing to have a shower before going down for dinner when I decided that I’d rather not go through the palaver of getting ready and being polite in the dinning area, and eat in my room. I asked for a menu on the phone which was promptly delivered. I ordered dinner and beer and they were promptly delivered. The food was excellent, and with the beer, came to about $7, which seemed out of place for the Hotels pricing. I watched X-men 2 and went to sleep………
….The sleep was good-I felt a bit more refreshed for a change. I enjoyed a powerful shower and set off to the buffet breakfast. Not quite in the European league but the orange juice and scrambled eggs were perfect ! That done, the bike was loaded next and I asked the receptionist if she could translate some of the instructions I’d been e-mailed as to how to find the Polar shop. She explained it all clearly and I set off.
All the original “signposts” the receptionist had translated popped up quickly with the exception of one problem, which was like most cities, and that was of including as many one way roads as possible, and San Jose was no exception ! To retrace my steps to find one building( which was given as a landmark to find the Polar shop) took a few attempts. That done I was confident that soon I‘d find it….well about 4 circuits later (yes, the one ways again !, and again, and....) I was pulling my hair out…it was very hot and very busy. I saw a young man standing outside a Casio shop and I thought maybe this was it…after a few mins I established it wasn‘t. I showed him my instructions (back to the first day of school again !) and he said he thought that the road and building I wanted were on the opposite side to that which the receptionist had suggested. I was confident that she’d understood them but I couldn’t deny I wasn’t finding it
and thought “why not“ and gave it a try. Within a minute I‘d found it !!!.Battery fitted I set off towards Volcan Irazu, one of Costa Ricans most popular volcanoes. Signposting is not considered worthwhile apart from the major highways, and then a whole host of signs when you are very near to your destination. I relied almost solely on the GPS which has me winding all over the place but did finally get me to the correct road. It was $7 to get in to the National Park and 50cents to park !! and there was only 45 mins left……”sufficient time to see and photo the craters” I was assured. Well, I wasn’t going to leave now. I coughed up and went in.
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Ever wondered what a volcanoe signpost would look like ??.....
It is quite a thing seeing inside your first volcano…the surrounding area resembling a lunar landscape(although nothing compared to Bad Lands(see South Dakota entry). The centre of the volcanoe is covered by pea green water which you can see one minute and is obscured by cloud the next. I saw, photoed and left, setting off towards my next destination, the protected coastal resort of Manual Antonio.
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Inside the crater with cloud obscuring the lake.
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...once the cloud had cleared......
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My faithful Dakar waiting in the car park !!
The lack of maps and having only a basic GPS map drove me half crazy. I was zig-zagging all over the place for about 2 hours. Finally I decided that if I took one of the major highways out of the town I was in, I might pick up the road I wanted. I was correct, and despite low cloud and light rain I managed to find “my” turning. Time was getting on and despite my desire to arrive at Manual Antonio this evening, I decided to find a hotel soon as it was getting dark and I was on very bendy country lanes. I found a small motel-type room for about $14.
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The heating device for hot water in the shower...yes that is the shower head you can see...
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A common site throught all Central America-the TV caged in to stop theft !...and this was one of the more tasteful designs !!
The town was strange. It is situated in a beautiful valley and seems at one level, very peaceable but at another I couldn’t quite relax. Despite the town being stretched out in a pleasant manner, the bars all looked dodgy and had their fair share of drunks-there weren’t any restaurants that I could see, just chicken and chips & Pizzas. All-in-all, not quite what I would have liked. So, I had me chicken and chips, updated some of the log you’re reading now and went back to the room and me telly !!
Up a bit later this morning and a bit fuzzy headed. I was heading back towards Manual Antonio which was only 80km I learned before leaving my Motel. It was about 11 o’clock by the time I’d finished breakfast, and with only 80 clicks to cover I was looking forward to my day or so on the beach. I had to ask around (as is becoming usual) for directions and soon I was off.
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One of the earlier views I was able to see.....
30 mins later the tarmac ran out and I was down to dust, still no worries there and I just continued. Then the dust turned to rocks, still ok except it started to get very steep here and there ,and quite narrow which made corner navigation increasingly harder.
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The tarmac runs out...
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...staring to get a bit rougher but still faily predictable to ride on.
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A dry mud trail I came across- I was glad that it wasn´t wet or raining....................
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The weather started to close in a bit, and the cloud became almost intimidating..
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...as did my options for a route !
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Choice made..Right !...based on a chat I had with a lorry driver an hour or so ago.
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Just a bit further along I was presented with this for a corner..........
Then it was mud and rocks, getting steeper still and very winding. All was still going quite well, with the exception of one corner where I managed to skid the front wheel three times, almost falling off on every occasion, until it started to rain……those rocks-cum pebbles started to be very slippery, as did the mud. This continued for hour after hour and I was getting a little anxious. The bike was veering all over the place even at 5mph and I was getting nervous and very tired-It was all down hill literally and my forearms were aching from all the braking. I had to stop from time to time to rest for a few minutes, but this time was begining to become tempered by my concerns of worsening conditions. The GPS was approximately showing that I still had a long way to get to my destination and there were no other tangible signs that I was even on the right road for quite a while. The clouds were already around me and the drops off to the side not even viewable for fear of following them down. I was, as I say, anxious.
In the middle of nowhere I find a man with his wife and baby, broken down with his truck so I stop to see if I can help. I soon deduce that it is his battery and we laughingly set about working out how we could jump his truck from my bike, when, as if scheduled, a small lorry comes along. Even with its power, my truck drivers impatience not to let the charge take hold before attempting to start it, assured that his truck would not start and he decides to enlist the assistance of a friend of his using the cell phone of the lorry driver. The rain re-started and I got my jacket back on and was off. More down-hills, more rocks, more mud, more sliding….still I was more accepting of it now (although a bit concerned about running out of light or petrol before reaching Manual Antonio)
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In another middle of nowhere I find this booth selling bits and pieces, so the owner, his dog and I share a packet of biscuits I buy for lunch.
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A view of the rainforest from the owners booth.
As I was coming down yet another incline I saw a truck in my rear view mirror who was keen to get by so I slowed and let him……….as he passed I saw a stream appear in a hairpin at the bottom of the descent we were currently undertaking, a stream that his 4 x 4 struggled to get over and up a first ridge(wet from other vehicles), so much so that he stalled. I am very tired and I can’t believe my eyes-I had been convinced that the worst was over. I can’t go back the way I came and am almost confident the stream trip will generate a crash, so I try to calm myself down and break down the problem into managable chunks. I settle for getting across the stream in one, and then taking care of the ridge in a second step-I wrestle with the implications of letting off the power after the stream to get over the ridge but decide that control is better than the risk. To my amazement it works, I cross the stream and manage to get up the ridge without falling off. I am a happy man and confident that that is the worst I will see as I can sense I’m getting near the bottom.
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An idea of how rough some of the roads actualy got.
The hills continue and finally I run into a ‘traffic jam’ of about three vehicles as someone has crashed(I’m not surprised) and the police and a small ambulance are there……I still don’t know how they managed to get there…the roads were dismal. In fact, they originally headed up with their passenger(s) the way I had just come down but they turned round somewhere and came back down the hill again. I was soaked…my t-shirt was saturated with sweat and rain, my gloves with rain. I decide to take my gloves off.
After they’d gone, I set off again and discovered another wider stream not long after but it was the sort of stream I could look at, and prepare myself to enjoy. I did and I enjoyed it. The hills continued, as did the rain. Then I came to a wet wooden bridge with no sides, just a few planks running along where car wheels normally go and supporting planks running perpendicular to them. The normal car planks just weren’t an option as by this time they looked like ice to me, and so I decide to go for the perpendicular planks…but at the last minute I see that one is broken. I weigh it up again and it still looked a heathier option and so I wound up the Dakar and went across for all we were worth…and made it!! I felt like a cat who been presented with all their 9 lives for use in one day and I was rapidly getting through mine. Finally the hills start to come to an end and I start to feel a bit safer again. I come into the first village I have seen for about 2 hours and notice a large river to its left and a chap on a lightweight un-laden motorcycle who is just about crossing it. I’m sure it can’t be the way I need to go but go down to look as a matter of interest.
That done, I resume my route, only to be told by a villager, when checking to see if my exit road was correct, that the best way to the Manual Antonio is to cross the river, otherwise I will add Muy(many) Kilometres. My senses and body had been severely assaulted today and the thought of the crossing the river felt like another blow to my usual common sense so I consider the options of "muy" kilometres or the river. Filled with apprehension and resignation I turn back towards the river, knowing at one point, I was looking forward to an occasion such as this…before I left England. I looked on at the river, which was split into two sections, each about 70’ across and study the progress of a newish 4 x 4 going across. His route put the deepest point at just above his axle line. Then a truck goes through, their route similar but perhaps a bit deeper. I look on and wait for ‘my’ right moment.
It never comes and I try to remember the basic river crossing skills I learnt from a(the) Ford at Eynesford in Kent, and on the BMW off-road course in Wales, and the advice presented by Chris Scotts AM handbook. The last of which encourages you to walk it first if you don’t know it. I weigh all the advice and decide that if I ride in the path of one of the two vehicles I stand the best chance of making it. My experience has taught me to keep the power on and keep it steady, don’t go too fast but keep the power on even if it gets a bit bumpy. I leave the shore and off I go, the bike wobbling on every stone it passes over-the steering veers as it fancies and I basically just keep the power on…at one point the drag seemed so significant I thought the bottom of the panniers might be in the river as well…(I‘m still not sure now)….I wobble this way, that way..and every time I’m convinced that I’ll be off soon……BUT I get to the other side and my antics are witnessed by a few spectators in the back of the lorry that had just crossed. My fist went up in the air, as did a couple of the guys in the truck who celebrated with me.(If you think it´s an over-reaction, look again at how much luggage I´m carrying !) One river down, one to go. I sit there still shaking from the first one but aware that keeping going is good. Off I go again…same saga, steering feels like the handlebars are connected to the top yoke by elastic bands, rear end feels like I’m displacing the stern of a boat…..BUT I make it again. Fist straight back up in the air again and joined again by one of the spectators in the lorry…who is now quite a distance away.
Not long after that I come across another wet wooden bridge and opt for the central perpendicular planks again. Finally I come to dry and dusty flat tracks which look like they are going somewhere. I finally get to Manual Antonio at about 5 o’clock and look down at my jacket and my bike, both now covered in a brown mud dust sticking to the wet from the rain. What a mess !! …. What an adventure !!
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My pad for two nights...and well earned they were too !!
I find a reasonably priced room at $25/night (many basic hotel rooms were going for $75!), have a good dinner and settle down into my bed……….My new neighbours must have somehow become aware of my new found celebrity status for surviving today and decide to party for most of the night with specific highlights being at about 1 and 4 am.
I appreciated their enthusiasm , particularly when calling and shouting to each other across the little forecourt that was formed in front of our habitations, and was delighted that the children felt they could join in too !! I think at one point their excitement got the better of them and they just needed to tell someone else as they went out in the car at about 1 or 2 and then came equally excited at 4. I was naturally pleased to have be recognised, the only thing was, they forgot to invite me !! When morning, the normal one, did arrive I thought I’d have a bit of a lay-in but my friends next door were unable to curb their enthusiasm as they seemed to want me up..and so carried on in jubilation from the previous night. I can be slow to know when I’m beat, but on this occasion I gave in, got up and prepared for a beach day. I got me cozi and me beach kit and set off for breakfast !It was hot even in the shade and I was joined by a retired American chap who just couldn’t bear any more heat and so came into to sit in the shade to pass some time and have a chat.
Finally I pluck up the courage to leave for the beach….the sand is so hot it actually radiates heat similarily to an English crop field on a Summers day, albeit 4 or 5 times fiercer. After 5 mins of this I go in for a swim, there is no shock from the cold water as the water isn’t cold ! It’s somewhere between 70 & 75 degrees. It is actually hard to believe when you’ve been in the water for 5-10 mins that outside can be any hotter, but it is, and within 10 mins I’m cooking again. I go through this exercise 3 times over 2 hours and finally can bear no more-that and the fact that my back felt like it had been under the grill led me back to my room to prepare some web updates for you………as we´ve said before, there is no end to my sacrifice !! In the evening I catch-up with my e-mails and up-load two web updates.
The next day I prepare to leave for Panama and nip down to a beach café to get some breakfast before leaving. Whilst I’m finfishing Breakfast I meet up with two Dutch girls who are travelling through Central America and intend to walk the Matchu Pitchu in Peru and so we discuss the possibilities of meeting up.
Finally…….. I leave and have to drive quite a few miles to get some more money and petrol before heading off. It is phenomenally hot, and the upset stomach I’ve had for the past few days, is not helping. Finally I get back onto a bone-shaker of a road to leave Manual Antonio. 40 or so miles later and I’m back onto paved roads….with huge craters at unsuspecting points and places in the roads. The poor old Dakar thumps it’s way through a few of these this afternoon. All-in-all, Costa Rica was very expensive and I couldn’t help feeling at times that I was just another Gringo with Dollars and that any service I got was in the expectation of more Dollars. With this in my mind I wanted to leave as soon as possible and so was preparing myself for a long ride this afternoon to get across the border. By about 15:30 I’m very tired, hungry(ish), and still very hot and so decide to find somewhere to stop for lunch. I see a large restaurant which looks like the food won’t add to my stomach condition and so stop. I manage to get a decent salad and some fruit and bits and enjoy the breeze that cooled me down a bit. Just as I was coming to the end of lunch a chap apparently trips and spills some water just to the right of me and apologises-I say ok as everything is ok. 5 mins later I’m getting ready to leave and I realise my wallet is missing and further realise that the water incident was only a diversion !!…. I ask a few people if they saw anything and they have…just the people leaving in a green Hyundai- 2 guys and 3 girls. To cut a long story short, the Police are called and arrive in about 10 mins, I give them a report. Whilst waiting I learn that the same group had been operating in a nearby town yesterday as one guy I spoke to had felt them try to steal his wallet. What I don’t understand is, if he recognised them, why didn’t he say anything to anybody ? !!!!! I’ve lost in total about $140 and one credit and one debit card, plus the e-mail addresses of a number of people John and I have met recently. I now have no money and only the hope of access to a new account I opened in England before leaving. The account has not yet worked on a cash machine yet. I learn to my pleasant surprise that there is a cash machine not more that 10m from the restaurant, and further more learn that my card works !! , and manage to get enough money out to secure accomodation, food and petrol etc. I thank two of the girls who work at the restaurant in particular as they were very helpful. I pack up and leave even more disgruntled with Costa Rica and consider if I can still make it to Panama before it got too late. Dusk comes and goes and the pot-holes of the afternoon re-appear, the problem now is I often can’t see them until it’s too late. I hit quite a few but manage to take some of the weight of the bike out of some of them by pulling up as I hit them BUT I hit 3 or 4 really badly, one so much so that I can actually see gravel etc getting thrown up off of the front wheel and I am wary of what I might find in the morning. Finally I decide that the risk of continuing to drive is too great and start looking for a Hotel. No much further along I see a very smart look Hotel. Concious it may be expensive I ask at the desk. It was the equivalent of $9/7pounds !! How bizarre. I take the room !
Mike
