Part 1 - London to Tamarindo
Mosquitoes 42 (bites) - John 14 (kills)
Hola Amigos,
Well it is now about 6 weeks since I left the comfort and security of the UK which is extremely worrying as it mostly seems like very little time has passed since that day. So, time for an update before you all forget who I am!
As many of you know the first stop from Brighton was San Francisco, amongst the first of a healthy number of muppets to arrive in the US for Duncan and Lisa Jackson’s wedding extravaganza. Touch down was around 5 pm and I jumped aboard a Super Shuttle (an A-Team type van that acts as a shared taxi) and was whisked around the airport about 5 times before heading off to Haight Ashbury to meet up with Jason Nolan, long resident in this fabulous part of the city and ex of Barcelona and Clapham North, London. After a hasty greeting I headed off full of confidence to Walnut Creek, a 45 minute trip to the Jackson P Diddy palace in the East Bay. Somehow or other I managed to get my addresses totally confused (must have been jet lag) and ended up totally lost in an unknown neighborhood, the daylight long departed and beginning to question my ability to navigate my way around the world. So, with this sobering thought in mind I accepted the shot across the bows and headed back to Jason`s for some much needed sleep.
After this rather estupido beginning I embraced the new dawn, laughed it off and tried again, this time with the right address and some sleep under my belt. Lesson 1, always double check your double
checked details, then double check, assume stupidity and then recheck your original plan.
The Jackson pad was all it was cracked up to be, and a few comfortable nights were spent hanging out by the pool and enjoying the Californian sunshine with friends. And so, to the wedding week which I shall summarise thus!
Stag night, BBQ, Gold en Gate bridge, wine tasting, redwood forests, frisbee, beer, super strength rita`s, nightclubs, fabulous city scapes, cable cars, sea lions, clam chowder in a sour dough bread
bowl, the ever present begging bush man, late nights, later mornings, suits (insert Reservoir Dogs soundtrack here), top hat and tails, beautiful dresses, sunshine and sunscreen, tears and laughter, champers and chumpsters, the tango, the band and the DJ and finally, dropping the bride and groom at their hotel in our taxi, stumbling into the night in full regalia, highly amusing!
And so, with most of the Brits back where they belong 
I spent another three weeks or so enjoying the comforts and frustrations of Californian living with a beautiful house and amusing car at my disposal, catching up with old friends making some new ones and generally not doing any of the things that a visitor to this part of the world should be doing, i.e. Lake Tahoe, Yosemite etc. Yes, I know, but I needed the rest!
Soon enough it was time to board my red eye flight to San José, Costa Rica and to begin my cultural integration into the Latin American life - or so I thought….
As most of you know I had booked a 4 week Spanish course in Playa Tamarindo and pre-programme for 3 days in San José. I was picked up at the airport by the wonderful Carlos and was delighted to find the conversation rapidly turning to the imminent world cup, after 5 weeks in the football starved US this was a great relief. At last, even with the inevitable language barrier I could feel the excitement of a country about to enter into the most amazing sporting competition in the world, but more of that later.
Carlos dropped me at the International Language School house in central San Joséé and I found to my surprise that almost the entire place had been invaded by University of Texas kids here to gain Spanish credit as part of their studies - right, er, international language school??? well, anyway, what the hell I thought, this means I`m going to have to spend the next 3 days hanging out with students of about 20, able at last to enter a bar legally and get trashed while I consume a mere average number of beers and watch it all unfold. OK, no problemo. Also amongst these kids was another Texan, J, this time though, my age and another corporate escapee, albeit briefly from the work environment, who was room mate, friend and drinking partner on numerous occasions.
The house and pre-programme course was run by a 38 year old American chap who as far as I can tell is searching for some kind of identity and recognition in his life while still being “down with the kids”,
something I suspect he has never been in his life! I was able to enjoy the ensuing issues with an amused and distant British detachment. This guy was our tour guide around San José and began by
scaring the living daylights out of the little darlings. I would of course have killed anyone who described me thus at 20 and I really refer to the two 17 year olds, boy and gal, first time out of the US, and from the deep south - cute, indecipherable accents. The scares took place in a place delightfully named Coca Cola which is the main bus terminus for the country. A sprawling, filthy, impoverished area where crime is fairly rife I guess but is nothing compared to some of the places I`ve been and was totally over emphasised - the guy swaggered around the place showing how wonderful he was to be hard enough to be here without fear. When I tried to engage him in a discussion of the comparisons between say Bombay or Jo`burg and San José he seemed somewhat reluctant to talk, sensing I suspect that with this particular Englishman his act was not washing. Anyway, Coca Cola dispensed with and some encouraging words to the trembling tykes and we were off to explore the rest of the city.
San José has some fairly pleasant architecture in the city centre. The highlight is the peoples theatre which was built to resemble some the finest in France. Called the peoples theatre because it was
constructed so that all members of Costa Rican society could enjoy and benefit from the diverse range of performances staged. This said, there was pretty predictable segregation by socio-economic
status and gender. The whole floor of the place can actually be raised from it`s standard angle to a flat surface for balls. There, it`s not just cervesas! That`s about all I can say about San José as
like most developing world cities much is off limits to the gringo and rest is entertaining if unremarkable.
The following day was absolutely fantastic. White water rafting down world class rapids with 6 20 year old Texans, high fiving with our oars (surprisingly easy to get into when your adrenaline is pumping at Schumacher speeds), and generally getting way too confident as we were excellent. So much so that our guide made us spend most of the time going down the rapids backwards. We kept losing people over the side, including him at one point which just heightened the hilarity. You`ll be pleased and probably surprised to hear that I managed to stay in for the entire trip, except when I dived in to float through an absolutely beautiful canyon halfway down the descent. The river runs right through the rain forest and at times you are in the absolute middle of nowhere with just the sound of water surging
through the rocks or the bizarre and beautiful noises of the rain forest. I even dived into a waterfall pool and sat under the tumbling agua. Excellent fun and if you ever get a chance, go, and if you you don’t get one make sure you make one.
So now to Playa Tamarindo, my current home, school and playground. It`s a pretty touristy place with quite a few bars, rather changeable weather and great surf in beautiful warm water. Spanish school is going reasonably and I`m trying my best not to be a naughty boy in class, trying not always achieving and Monday mornings prove no easier here than anywhere. I surf every other day or so and am catching some good waves occasionally and getting totally dumped by others. I religiously enjoy the sunset across the bay with a cerveza in the locals beach front bar with the Costa Rica world cup round up show behind me. I`m also managing to catch the games although they are seriously damaging my sleep pattern. England, Argentina was “enjoyed” with my next door neighbors and usual lunch providers - a couple of great Argie guys about my age. Mmm, interesting atmosphere at 7.00 am that morning. While those of you in the UK were probably rolling around frighteningly drunk and full of the worlds joys I was quietly making my exit, trying to pass on condolences in very broken Spanish. Tonight is the last group game for England and the location will be the same only we have to watch the Argies first at 12.30 am the us at 2.30 - a long night and school in the morning - DOH!
Been getting my atmosphere from watching the Tico`s (Costa Rica) in one of the more local bars and they go absolutely nuts. The first game was great and I met a bloody Don`s fan would you believe -
there can only be about 5 Brits here at any one time, small, small world, you can`t even find one in London! The second game was at the end of a 12 hour session which began with the Tyson vs Lewis fight build up at 5 pm and ended at 5 am jumping up and down, covered in beer and Cuba Libra (Rum and Coke) cheering the Tico`s drawing level. Those of you who have ever braved a mosh pit can appreciate the experience! The walk back along the beach with the sun rising at the beginning of a beautiful day was to die for.
So, there I shall leave it for now as there are probably very few of you left with me. It`s nearly time for my sunset cerveza and this trained killer must get mosi-guarded up for biting time!
Hasta Luego - Pura Vida
John
P.S. I didn’t reread this so excuse spelling and grammatical errors
or complete rubbish.
Cheers!