Episode 9 - no-one knows the way to San José

I hadn't expected to spend so much of my Costa Rican sabbatical on a bus, but this is life.

I checked out of the delightful 'House of Macaws'.  Whilst I had seen a plethora of dogs, cats, baby cats, crocodiles (from a distance), lizards and bird life, I failed on the macaw front, which was unfortunate but couldn't be helped.  I spent time sitting on my tiny balcony watching for macaws, but it wasn't to be.  

I arrived at the bus-stop at 10am and there was a man there waiting for a bus to he-wasn't-sure-where.  Another man arrived and he also couldn't be sure where he was going, but he assured me that the San José bus would come in twenty minutes; this changed to forty minutes; then sixty minutes.   I think perhaps he was just being polite.  

At the end of the day, or the middle, or even the beginning - do any of us really know where we are going? This life is such a curious mixture of twists and turns. Every day throws up new decisions you didn't realise needed to be made; new experiences, good and bad.

A bus did come and they both boarded, assuring me that this wasn't my bus.  I waved at the next few buses which passed, but the drivers just waved back then accelerated.  It is the rainy season here, although the humidity is crushing.  The heavens opened whilst I was at the bus-stop and the rain pelted the ground unapologetically.  

The longest I have ever waited for a bus is eight-and-a-half hours. That was in Ghana in 2002.  I was in a town called Sunyani, trying to get to Bui National Park, (which I did eventually reach; I went on a water safari and saw a hippo's ear, apparently).  The process is simple - the bus goes when it is full. And filling it took eight-and-a-half hours.  Time isn't always money.    

After just over two hours, I decided to go back to Jaco, which is anywhere between 20 and 45 minutes away, depending on who you ask as they may never been there.  Jaco is in the opposite direction and I had already passed through it twice.  On arrival in Jaco, I was given three different sets of instructions as to where the bus station was.  I walked and walked, with bluebird.  She isn't very heavy but the humidity is tough.  The third set of instructions were correct - the bus station is opposite the Best Western - you walk through a little complex of buildings and suddenly there is a 'ticquette' bureau where you buy your ticket. 

We are well and truly west of West Drayton, so they don't take Oyster here unfortunately.  

I already had my ticket, so showed it to the ticket man.  He hesitated and said something in Spanish - I looked blank - he typed furiously on his phone - 'That is for a different company'. 

I looked in my wallet.  Colones look remarkably similar to M&S vouchers, but they are not accepted here.  

I purchased another ticket.  I had chatted to a lady who said that the ticket I had was valid, but only from Panama, which is the next country along.  Yay.  

This 'in-country spending' malarky, which no budget for an international trip should be without, is very important.  It's all very well including the obvious - travel to the place; accommodation; food, but the additional things, like buying the wrong bus ticket, buying water (I have a LifeStraw water bottle which my brother-in-law gave me a couple of years ago - it filters water all by itself - but where is it? It is on my bedside table in my room, at home.  It would be much more use in my rucksack) 

In-country spending is even more important in countries like Switzerland, where you have to remortgage to buy a keyring.  Don't get me started on the cost of everything there - no really, don't.  

After buying my ticket, I came across a taxi driver touting for business, offering to take people direct to San José for $60. I was tempted, but having already paid for this journey twice, I didn't want to pay a third time. 

I found a baños and made the mistake of looking in a mirror.  I was so hot that I actually had sweat cascading down my face.  I couldn't quite believe the face that looked back at me, but there was nobody else there.  This is why one always takes the refreshing wipe from the aeroplane (and the sanitising wipe, and the sick-bag, just in case)

The bus was leaving at 3pm. It arrived in San José just after 6pm. Anyone who tells you that Tarcoles is an hour and a half way from San José is lying to you. It might be that long in a taxi or private car driven by someone with a sense of direction.  They are big on car hire here. I struggle enough with Purple, with her steering wheel on the right side, and driving on the right side of the road.  The thought of an alien car, with the steering wheel on the wrong side, driving on the wrong side of the road - well, no, just no.

I was allocated the very back seat on the 3pm bus - I bundled Bluebird into the hold, said a little prayer for her, then clambered aboard, so excited to be heading on the right bus in the right direction.  I soon fell into conversation with a friendly very well-travelled Chilean travel agent who is now based in Costa Rica.  We chatted all the way to San José - I wouldn't wish three hours of me on anyone, but we had a great chat about life and travels, plus she very kindly helped me to find a cab once we got to the bus station.   

I went to check into my budget hotel but - despite having had a confirmation this morning - there was some problem with the booking.  Due to my ongoing ineptitude in Spanish, this conversation was conducted entirely through google translate.  It seemed that there were not enough rooms.  Then something changed and there was a room.  Would I like to see it? Of course.  So I was shown to the room then presented with another google translate screen which said, 

the other person will soon be arriving.

Oh no, I thought.  I've checked into a brothel. Not again.

Fortunately something had been lost in translation and what she meant was -

the other person who wants this room, I am sending them to another hotel

which was actually a very kind thing to do.