Leg 4 - El Salvador to Costa Rica
Bahia Del Sol, El Salvador
Daybreak on December 13th, 2003 found us within 2 miles of the location where we would call for an escort over the sand bar and through the entrance to the bay. We called on the radio, and fellow cruisers Murray and Colette from Terasad came out to show us the way through the 10' breakers. As we entered, we were at full throttle doing 7 knots, but the seas were so large behind us that when the caught us, we surfed down the fronts for about 30 seconds each, and we went through 3 of them. It was a little intimidating, but we made it through without mishap. We anchored in 15' in what turned out the be an estuary, and while the tide is running you experience about 2 knots of flow. A policeman doing double duty as an Immigration office boarded our boat, stamped our passports, and helped us fill out the tourist visa paperwork, which was pretty easy. We paid him $40, and gave him a ride back to shore. Nick and Steve went to town to get some American money (used in El Salvador) with Terasad, who arrived here 2 years ago and forgot to leave. We also got some special burn ointment for Katherine's leg. Upon returning, Steve cut and drained about 1/2 cup of ooze from Katherine's blister, and cut away the loose skin, then applied the ointment and bandaged. We had lunch at the Bahia Del Sol Hotel waterfront restaurant, and spend the afternoon planning our stay in El Salvador. A number of other cruisers came by our table and gave us information about the country, and one individual who indicated he owned a catamaran design/manufacturing plant, and once ran for President. We went back to the boat because Leslie had a headache, and Katherine's leg was hurting, but when Leslie got 5 Tylenol's for the two of them, she mistakenly took them all, giving her a stomach ache. Within a couple of hours, she felt better, though.
Bahia Del Sol Estuary
On the 14th, Steve went into Zecatecoluca via buses, which was much more difficult and time consuming than in Mexico, as they do not run as often, and the people in El Salvador do not speak as much English, which for Steve is a bit of a setback. He got a battery for his watch, updated the website, got some butter and washcloths, and headed back to the boat, a total trip time of about 6 hours. The kids did schoolwork and swam at the Hotel, and also took the dinghy to explore the nearby islands in the estuary. That night, we ate at the restaurant and talked with some other cruisers. \\
The 15th found Steve catching a ride to the airport to get a rental car, getting back to the boat around 1100, where we ate lunch and packed up for our inland excursion. We drove to San Salvador, the nation's capitol, and had some problems getting our permit to take the car into Honduras, but after an hour, we were on our way to the border. Despite information to the contrary, we found El Salvador to be more developed and less impoverished than Mexico, as the roads were in fair condition, and roadside villages were more like towns you might find in the Midwest of the United States. We arrived at La Palma just before dark, and although we had planned to get a 'cheap' hotel ($15), Leslie insisted on one that cost us $40 for the night, as the others looked like someone's garage. Even so, the room didn't have any hot water, one window was missing (we stuffed a pillow in the hole), and the other window fit badly, leaked a lot of air, and rattled. For the first time in months, we were cold, as La Palma is in the mountains. Oh, yea, the beds were rock hard. But we did hear over the TV that they caught Saddam Hussein (Leslie translated for us). Nick and Steve went into 'town' and bought some dinner and odds and ends, delighting the little hamlet by having visitors from California, as it appeared that they rarely got any gringos, let alone ones from the Sunshine State. The locals were absolutely giddy with excitement when we entered, and we were quickly the talk of the town. They got Steve's kind of dinner ($8 total), and ate in the hotel room.
Honduras, typical Central America countryside
Early on the 16th, we drove through the border, giving up our El Salvadoran tourist visas, and getting Honduras ones at a cost of $8. We drove the next 4 hours through some of the most beautiful, exotic jungle areas we had ever seen - just like in the movies! Honduras seemed to be less developed, but the towns the best kept of those we had seen in Central America thus far, each little village having a quaint charm about it. We saw a lot of wood gathering going on, with dozens of people walking the roads with bundles of wood on their back, presumably for cooking and heating. We arrived at the Copan Ruins, some of the largest Mayan ruins anywhere, and spent the rest of the afternoon looking at the pyramids, temples, sculptures, and artifacts from about 1300 years ago. It was certainly a highpoint to our trip, as we had to keep reminding ourselves that we were actually here, not watching National Geographic. It was a little slow going, as Katherine's leg was still hurting her quite a bit, and she soon tired of dealing with the pain. We went into the nearby town of Copan Ruinas, the quaintest cobble-stone village we had ever seen. It was a great haven for people from many countries, artisans, and catered to the more 'exotic' travelers. We had dinner at a restaurant owned by Germans, and served about everything but Hispanic food. Afterwards, we watched a dance & music presentation at the town square, our favorite being the skinny person wearing a chicken head running around showing off his chicken legs for about 5 minutes. Afterwards we watched movies in the hotel, as they had cable TV, and a few channels were in English, the first time we have watched English TV for almost 2 months.
Copan Ruins
The family crashes in front of a temple
Mayan Sculpture
The next day we drove through Guatemala to get back to our boat, because someone said it would be shorter. It may have been shorter, but after the stops at the borders of both Guatemala and El Salvador, it certainly wasn't any faster. But we did get to see some of Guatemala, and get some more stamps in our passports. We stopped in Santa Ana in El Salvador for lunch and some internet time, and ordered tickets for our flight home. We got back to the boat about 1500, and tried to do some schoolwork. We played Scrabble, and went ashore for some fancy fruit drinks at the restaurant.
On the 18th we took the car into Zecatecoluca and did some grocery shopping, picked up some light bulbs for the boat, and checked out the town. We returned via Herradura, and small town just a little out of the way, and checked our email, only to find that the plane tickets for Leslie, Nicholas and Katherine had been mailed to our house rather than being e-tickets that you can pickup at the airport. They were going to fly directly to Fresno, while Steve was going to fly to San Diego to get our car and drive home. As it turns out, e-tickets can only be issued where only one carrier is used, and the commuter flight from Los Angeles to Fresno was on another airline than that from Costa Rica, so we had to cancel their tickets and purchase new ones that go to San Diego. Now, we are concerned that we have too much stuff to bring home to put in our car - a problem to be resolved later. We cooked the fish that we caught a few days ago, and played cards before turning in for the night.
Puesta Del Sol, Nicaragua
On the 19th, Steve took the rental car back to the airport, while the family readied the boat for our departure. We bought diesel, weighed anchor at 1100, and headed off for Nicaragua. The wind was about 20 knots, and the seas were moderate, fairly good sailing during the day. But at about 1900 the wind picked up to 25, then 30 knots, and the seas built to 10', and Steve was left doing all but 2 hours of the night sailing, with Nick taking a turn in the early morning. We reefed the main, and partially furled the headsail, but at 0200 the seas were breaking on the boat, and the nose was regularly submerged. We turned downwind, hoping to get some relief from the pounding seas, but began surfing down the waves at 13 knots, too fast to control our boat. So we turned directly into the wind, and brought down all sails, and began running in front of the wind still making 6 knots. But at 0400, we were so far off course that we turned sideways to the wind and waves, started up the motor, and hunkered down for a tough ride to make directly for Puesta Del Sol, our next port. It was a real wet trip, and Leslie couldn't sleep because of the rough motion of the boat. At 0600, the wind had diminished to 20 knots, so Katherine was able to steer the boat, and regular watches resumed as Steve tried to sleep in the plunging seas. We arrived at Puesta Del Sol, Nicaragua, at 1200, and got a slip in the partially constructed resort marina. Few of the buildings are completed, and the docks are still in construction with almost none of them having power, but the location is in a nice, protected estuary. We had some problems with the Navy, as we didn't get the proper paperwork when we left Mexico or El Salvador, and it was only through the intervention of the marina manager that they didn't deport us - it was getting pretty tense for a while, and Steve was finally required to sign a paper indicating the boat wouldn't leave the port until they get it straightened out. There are about 6 other cruising boats here, and their owners are very nice and helpful.
Marina Puesta del Sol
On the 20th, we got a ride with another cruiser to a local baseball game, played in little more than a pasture. It was a big deal for the area - two tractors, about 10 horses, one car and dozens of bicycles brought the 100 or so spectators to watch two local teams vie for a spot in the championship game. Leslie and Katie sat on a felled tree limb, and Steve sat in one of the tractors. The team we were rooting for won with a triple in the 9th inning, so that made it even more entertaining. That same morning, Nick went fishing with the marina owner, and caught a 40 pound yellowfin tuna, but for reasons unclear to us, he didn't get to keep the fish, as it had disappeared from the custody of the boat owner the next day. But, as we were getting our fill of fish, we didn't even ask about it.
The 21st and 22nd were pretty lazy days at the marina. Leslie began a two day ordeal of washing all our clothes in a couple of 5 gallon buckets we carry on board, where she would let the clothes soak for a few hours before giving them a vigorous churning, followed by wringing them out by hand and hanging them from our lifelines. Steve, as usual, performed various boat repairs and such, and the kids continued their schoolwork and played Nintendo and watched DVDs. The evenings included an hour or two at the palapa bar where we would talk with the other cruisers while drinking sodas and eating popcorn.
A home near Puesta del Sol
The 23rd was a sad day, as Leslie had planned to have Christmas dinner with a couple of other boats by having a potluck, but despite discussing it previously, one boat invited the other over for dinner, and that left us the odd boat out. Leslie was pretty depressed, so we decided to go to a nearby town called Granada (it bills itself as the oldest town in Central America). We made hotel reservations, as well as reservations for the 26th on a canopy tour in the rainforest by way of ziplines from tree to tree. Still, Christmas was in jeopardy of being memorable only in it's infamy, and we spent the evening feeling like we were only making the best of a bad situation. A bright spot was that we decided to open up the gifts that my sister had given to us before we left Fresno, as we didn't want to take them with us in our luggage to Granada. We each got something we wanted, and we went to bed feeling a little bit more in the proper spirit.
Merry Christmas, Wabi Sabi style
We caught a bus on the 24th at 0500 which took us to a town about an hour away, where we took a taxi to another bus area, caught a second bus to Managua, took another taxi, and the final bus to Granada, all told taking about 5 hours. The details of the various bus and taxi rides would in themselves be a story, but suffice it to say that they really can pack a lot of people, chickens, and agricultural goods into these sad excuses for public transportation. (Wait, that's Steve's opinion...I (Leslie) think that any town that can provide a bus which will pick you up wherever you happen to stand and wait for it is very advanced in terms of spare-the-air technology.) The buses are the old yellow bluebird school buses from the U.S., and up front by the driver there is a sign with the headline "instructions for pupils." The good news was that the total transportation costs were less than $20. Upon arrival, we quickly located our hotel, the Posada Don Alfredo, run by a European gentleman (we never could figure out where he was from) The hotel was a home built in the mid 1800's with rooms surrounding a courtyard, and community bathrooms. Our room was about 1,000 square feet (big) with 4 double and queen size beds, and a hand-carved wood ceiling. It was really special, except that the outside wall of our room was adjacent to a street and had non-closeable louvered windows, so that every car, person, or dog that went by felt and sounded like it was like it was going through our room. We had lunch at "Nacho Mama's Cafe", and spent the afternoon visiting various local shops and artisan tables in Central Park, where Leslie negotiated a good price for some cool handcrafted pottery. We went to the travel agency to arrange for our canopy tour, where we found that we could take the tour on Christmas (!), and later went to dinner at "Pollo Restaurant Don Alfredo", which came highly recommended by the hotel owner. The atmosphere was marginal, the service was terrible, but the food was great - Leslie indicated that it was the best she had ever had. We ordered ice cream for desert, but after waiting 15 minutes for it, and looking like nothing was being prepared, we told Don Alfredo we were leaving, and would pay him later when he had more time for his customers. We then walked to a local ice cream shop to satisfy our cravings. The ladies went back to the hotel, and the men went out to buy fireworks to celebrate Christmas Eve. After setting off many about the size of a stick of dynamite (and subsequently being chased away by some displeased homeowners), they returned to the hotel, only to find that a group of people decided to set off their fireworks right outside our room's windows. Until shortly after midnight, it was like being in the middle of a civil war firefight! Leslie & Steve sat on their bed, waiting for the commotion to settle down, while the kids slept like always.
Nicaraguan Transportation
Christmas morning, and we had breakfast at a nice sidewalk cafe overlooking the town square, with horse-drawn carriages carrying locals and tourists to various destinations. It was like being taken back in time when things were simpler to understand and appreciate. We met our canopy tour guide, and had a great morning gliding from tree to tree with a great group of guides that really made the whole thing wonderful.
Us in a rainforest tree canopy on Christmas - really!
Steve trying to look like he's having fun 80' above the ground
We roamed the city streets for a while, and walked a couple of miles to Lake Nicaragua, where there is a park, concessions and beaches. It was a little different than what we were prepared for, as it looked like half the town was there, and both the beach and water were filled with clothed people - we concluded that swimwear must be a luxury in Nicaragua.
Lake Nicaragua, Granada on Christmas Day
After taking a carriage ride back to town, Christmas dinner was had at the Hotel Alhambra, with tables outside and overlooking Central Park. What a great and memorable experience. Afterwards, we each called family and friends to wish them a Merry Christmas, which was a very rare treat indeed, especially so because we got a good rate on telephone calls and could talk for a long time. We visited an old church that was inspiring because of it's grandeur and history, and languished the rest of the day until it was time for more ice cream. Christmas 2003 was saved, and will likely not be topped, if only in it's uniqueness.
On the 26th of December, we loaded up and took 2 bus rides and 2 taxi rides on our way back to Puesta Del Sol, only to be told that the bus for the final leg wasn't running today - something about not having a driver. While we pondered our fate in the little town of El Viejo, Leslie drew a crowd in the park, and began giving English lessons to the locals. We ultimately arranged to take a taxi back to our boat (not cheap), and resumed our routine of lounging and putting around with mundane chores, while trying to complete the allotted schooling. The weekend of the 27th and 28th were likewise uneventful, except that we donated our two bicycles to some locals, and made a couple of trips over the peninsula to the beach - one of those unspoiled, uninhabited beaches you see in the travel brochures.
Finally, on Monday the 29th, the Port Captain's office and Immigration arrived to declare the outcome of their investigation into our improper international paperwork, and impose justice. After collecting another $40 in routine fees, they informed us of our $75 fine. When the marina owner found out, he exploded into lengthy discourse with the unprepared officials, and called the Port Captain by phone, finally getting our fine money returned. After paying our rather pricey marina bill, we cast off for Costa Rica with conflicting weather reports, but we were running out of time to get to our final destination. Our total stay in Nicaragua was 9 days, about twice as long as we had planned.
A Tough Passage
The first day of sailing was good, with moderate winds and seas, but over the night the wind built to 30+, and the seas grew to 15' The wind ultimately topped at 44 knots (almost 50 miles per hour), and the waves began breaking on the boat. Steve was called into long duties at the helm, as the crew was too scared and unqualified for the conditions. All but Leslie were perpetually seasick, the only irony being that the breaking waves rather effectively washed the contents of the stomachs off of the topsides of the boat. We each wore our waterproof jackets (provided as a bon-voyage present from Steve's sister and brother-in-law Ginger and Bryan), as water was constantly washing through the cockpit. In the morning of the 2nd day, we made a decision to head back closer to shore (we were about 90 miles out at this point) to try to seek shelter, but this course brought our beam (side) to the wind and waves. Around noon, with no relief from the conditions, a wave crashed into the side of Wabi Sabi, flexing the hull and cracking the bulkhead at Katie's door into her room. Water was leaking into the boat from nearly every hatch, and our books and other articles were strewn around the boat, with us all too sick or discouraged to try to put things back. Leslie wanted to call for assistance on the radio, but Steve was confident that he could maintain relatively safe control of the boat. As the day progressed, and the conditions did not abate, Leslie gave up hope and was convinced of our impending doom, especially as night came and we were still 50 miles from shore. Early in the passage, we had reduced sail as much as possible, and were forced to run the engine to maintain control of the boat, as the waves twisted the boat too much for the small sails to remain filled and provide forward momentum. The bimini (cockpit cover) frame broke in two locations, and with heaving seas, Steve jury-rigged them with bungee cords and electrical tape. Then the reefing line broke (the rope that reduces the mainsail), and the boom crashed onto the already failing bimini. Steve got Nick to take the helm as he donned a harness and lanyard, and climbed onto the top of the main cabin tighten up the topping lift (a rope to support the boom when the sails are down) to get the strain off of the bimini. The sails flapped terribly, as we could not raise them because of the wind, and could not tighten them because of the broken line. Ultimately, the mainsail would need extensive repairs, but with nothing more that could be done in these conditions, Steve returned to the relative safety of the cockpit.
During the night, the wind diminished by fluctuating between 22 and 33 knots, and the seas steadily diminished as we approached the protection of land. Everyone was able to again stand watches, but it was still hard & wet going. By dawn we were within sight of land, and all remaining thoughts of our demise wafted away in the growing light. We had planned on making an intermediate stop in Punteranes, about halfway down Costa Rica, but as the morning continued and our confidence grew, we ultimately decided to press on to Golfito. But to make it before dusk on the following day, we needed to maintain a minimum of 5 knots the entire way. With the 2 knot counter-current this proved to be difficult, and although the wind was relatively steady and moderate, we were forced to continue motoring, which we had been doing for the past 30 hours. The remainder of that day and night were uneventful, except that we were all rather quite, and caught up on a lot of sleep. Leslie baked us a New Year's cake, which Katie decorated with Nerds (a candy thing).
Our New Year's cake!
On New Year's day, the 4th day of this passage, our spirits improved, and Leslie was found reading a book while sunbathing on the bow of the boat. The kids played Nintendo and listened to music, and Steve just enjoyed the monotony. With only 30 miles to port, the fuel gauge read empty, but a measurement of the level in the tank indicated we still had a few gallons left. We shut down the engine for the first time in 3 days, and made 4-5 knots in some of the calmest seas of our trip, and the best wind. We entered the large bay beginning the final 20 miles to the harbor, and marveled at the beauty of Costa Rica. The rainforest hillsides were breathtaking, and the dolphins had joined us for the final run of our adventure. We tried to revel in the significance of what we had accomplished and the surrounding beauty and great sailing, but were compromised by our desire to get to safe port, and home to our families and friends. The wind died 10 miles from the end, and we started up the engine again, hoping for enough diesel to get us there; making plans for how to get the dinghy into towing mode in case we don't.
7 miles from Golfito, Costa Rica, our final port
The Golfito Greeting Committee
Golfito, Costa Rica
At 1730 on January 1, 2004, Steve, Leslie, Nicholas, and Katherine Abston, following a setting sun and with failing light, picked up a mooring ball in Golfito, Costa Rica. 66 days and over 3,000 miles have passed since leaving Ensenada, Mexico on October 25, 2003.
Steve, Nick and Katie went ashore to Banana Bay Marina where the Owner was there and let us get some ice cream and sodas from his inventory, and we took them back to the boat. Leslie had been working on some awards for each of us - paper fishes nicely decorated, extolling each of our contributions to the trip. Leave it to Leslie to think of such precious, enduring gifts, and we all agreed that we need to have them laminated when we get home.
On the 2nd, Steve spent most of the day checking in with the Port Captain, Immigration, Quarantine, and Customs, taking 6 taxi rides, 4 bus rides, and walking about 10 miles, but by 1500 we were all legal. We took in 5 loads of laundry, which was done the same day - it usually takes the laundry services 2 days. Leslie and the kids went with Tim, the owner of Land Sea Services (they will be taking care of our boat in Costa Rica) on an excursion onto some nearby land, trailblazing the rainforest and seeing some ancient ruins. One of the other people that went on the hike broke her leg on the trip, but somehow limped out and got a ride to the hospital where they put a cast on her. Leslie spent much of the day preparing the boat for our departure, and spent some time investigating various tours and venues we needed to see while we are in the area. Nick concluded his schoolwork for the trip, and Katie continued her work on a PowerPoint Presentation for school on Central American Indians. Steve & Leslie visited a cemetery across the street that looked interesting, and turned out to be a paupers cemetery, as many of the graves were marked only with a cross made out of plumbing pipe. That night, we had dinner at Banana Bay Marina, as we had opened an account there, and the banks were closed so we couldn't get any money to eat elsewhere.
Cemetery with a view
On the 3rd, Steve worked on the boat, including scraping barnacles from the hull, getting diesel and gasoline, and changing the oil in the engine. Leslie continued preparations for our return to Fresno on the 9th. We were able to get money from a bank that was open, so we could pay our debts from the past 2 days. We went grocery shopping, and worked hard at eating what remaining food we have on the boat - instant potatoes are starting to get a little tiring. We went into town to get ice cream, and check our email. The kids watched borrowed videos of some "The Simpsons" episodes, and later Steve, Nick and Katie watched "The Great Escape" while Leslie read a book.
On the 4th, we took off the sails, but Nick dropped a sail batten (long fiberglass rod) into the water, and we had to hire Tim (from Land Sea) to dive the area and find it. We found that the parts for our watermaker did make it to Costa Rica, and we need to make arrangements to now have them shipped to us in Golfito. We took the dinghy on a 15 mile excursion through a mangrove-lined jungle river, emptying into a bay with an okay beach, where we spent the afternoon chasing crabs and playing in the water. We returned to the boat just in time for a little rain, and then went into town for a dinner at a Chinese restaurant. We then played Yahtzee, and everybody went to bed except Steve, who spent 4 hours updating the webpage. By the way, you should really check out Leslie's webpage link, as she updates it regularly with interesting, insightful stuff.
Captain Steve on jungle river trip
I could live here.
The next morning Leslie, Katie and Nick took a ferry boat to a peninsula about ten miles away, arriving at a town called Puerto Jiminez. The man who collected the fares evidently assumed that Leslie would not notice that he had kept about $10.00 which he should have returned to them in change. She did notice, and as the passengers were exiting, she blocked the door and said loudly in Spanish, "You need to give me 5,000 [Colones] more." He pulled it out of his pocket and all was well. They were then picked up by a four wheel drive pickup and taken to the other side of the Oso Peninsula via a road that went from rocky to underwater quite frequently. On the way, the driver pointed out a sloth and a crocodile. The scenery was spectacular. They arrived at their destination, a lodge called Encanta La Vida. Amazing! The lodge is surrounded by several white-sand beaches with gorgeous turquoise waters, lined by palm trees. The other trees, also beautiful, were full of scarlet macaws, cara caras, toucans, pelicans, and, of course, monkeys. Lots of monkeys. Howler monkeys, white-faced capuchins, spiders, and a fourth kind that I can't remember right now. Anyway, they spent two days surfing, hiking (with Barb and Raul from San Pedro, CA, the only other guests at the lodge and excellent interpreters) and just enjoying the scenery and wildlife. (Well, if you can actually "enjoy" monkeys who howl all night and are the loudest mammals alive. There is probably another word for that experience.)
Playa Pan Dulce near Encanta La Vida
Bottom side of Howler Monkey
The return trip was via a water taxi, but after Leslie, Nick and Katie were dropped off to catch it, the skies broke open and the wind raged. The water taxi driver told them to wait, but there was absolutely no shelter and they were soon severely soaked. They asked an American fellow if they could wait in his SUV with him, but he mumbled something which meant "No way, white woman." After a wet half hour, things quieted down enough for a fun passage back with dolphin escort. Poor Steve had spent the day getting the boat bonded to stay in Costa Rica without us. Actually, that was a very good thing, because now Land Sea Services are bonding agents and other people will be able to leave their boats with them, which is more economical than the lovely Banana Bay Marina.
The next day, January 7, was nothing but packing, pizza and ice cream. After trying to get all our stuff into the bags we had brought with us, it became obvious that more suitcases would be required. Steve went to the Duty Free compound at the west end of town and got a set for $50. Two concerns persisted, however; that we couldn't carry all our stuff, and that it weighed too much for the airline to let it go home with us without additional costs. To make things worse, Steve wanted to take home the spare dinghy, as it just took up space on Wabi Sabi. We removed the bimini, removed 2 of our solar panels, filled the diesel tank, hoisted the dinghy and stored the outboard at Tim's, and performed dozens of tasks to mothball the boat for an extended period of time. The watermaker chemicals showed up (YEA!), and we were able to pickle the watermaker for the duration. Tim came bay the boat in the afternoon, and we showed him around and they discussed the various maintenance duties that Tim will perform over the coming months, including running the engine, cleaning the barnacles off the bottom, waxing the hull, polishing the stainless, and cleaning the inside so mold doesn't take over. The family called it a night about 2000, but Steve kept chasing last minute items until after Midnight, when he finally gave up (but didn't really finish).
at 0430 on the 8th, Tim picked us all up in his dinghy and we caught the bus for the 8 hour journey through rain forest and cloud forest to San Jose. We had a houseful of gear with us, each person carrying 3 bags, all told weighting over 400 pounds (including the extra dinghy). The bus handled it find (with underneath storage compartments) but when we arrived in San Jose, the taxis were very small. One jolly driver told us not to worry, and he then won Steve's award for macho manly-man dude of the year as he loaded everything into, on and around the trunk and drove us safely to our hotel in Alajuela, near the airport. We were glad to exit San Jose, because it is huge, not so gorgeous, and something way beyond crowded. Alajuela is one of the prettier towns we saw on our trip. We relished in having McDonald's for lunch, as we were getting quite tired of mystery food. We were planning on taking a taxi to a Taco Bell for dinner, but Steve got rather ill in the evening, and the young man managing the hotel (actually a home with lots of rooms) got a doctor to come in and see him. By then he had been as sick as he was going to get and was asking for a vanilla milkshake, but Leslie wouldn't let him have one. Like a lot of Central American towns, Alajuela stays up all night. It is very clean and safe as well, not true of some of the places we have been.
Chapel in Alajuela
On the 9th we had a great Costa Rican breakfast of gallo pinto (beans and rice) ...no menu, just a friendly waiter who comes to the table asking what you would like. We found a shop with local handicrafts at about half of any of the prices we had seen before. Later, at the airport (which is very modern and beautiful) we saw the same things for at least four times as much. There was kind of a tug to buy as much as we could hold, maybe a way to connect us to a country we didn't want to leave. Lucky for us, we were already overburdened! The flight home left at Noon and was uneventful, although the lines to get through immigration in Houston were huge. The process went quickly, however, and at 2230 we were seeing Bobbie Dean's smiling face at the San Diego airport. He had been taking care of our car, and brought it to the airport. Also saw Bobbie Dean's dad and now understand why Bobbie is such a charming character. He helped load us into the car and sent us off for our 5 1/2 hour drive home. Home!