Mission

“These are the voyages of the traveler Steven. Its five-year mission: to explore the strange world, to seek out life and civilizations, to boldly go where few men have gone before.”

When I set out to see the world, my goal was to check off a bunch of boxes. I set some goals, got a full-time job, added some more goals, learned that taking 50 vacation days a year was not considered acceptable, figured out how to incorporate all of the goals I set, and had at it. My goal was never to explore new cultures, yet that is what these voyages have become. I have started to understand foreign cultures, but I have learned one fundamental truth. Human beings are, for the most part, the same.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Costa Rica - Day 0 - Unprepared

“Costa Rica”


10/9/15, “Unprepared”
Aboard UA 1082, En route EWR-SJO

There are exactly 10 countries in continental North America.  When I next write, I will have visited all 10 of them.  US, Mexico, and Canada I had visited by the time I was a teenager.  Panama was my first foray into Central America, two years ago this very weekend, a last minute decision, everything planned within a week.  I had been planning to save a Panama/Costa Rica trip for a weeklong trip during Passover.  Instead, I split it.  I did Panama two years ago, and now I’m doing Costa Rica.

During those two years, I managed to visit the other five countries in Central America (El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Belize), seeing every World Heritage Site they had to offer, along with every national congress, and collecting my flag pins.  If all went well, I would have said, “Costa Rica Complete.  Central America Complete,” by lunchtime on Monday.  All did not go well.  I am so unprepared.  This trip to Costa Rica I have had on the books for a year, I think, and, yet, I was better prepared for the Panama trip I planned within a week.

Why?  Well, it’s simple.  I have become complacent.  I was pretty new at the whole solo travel thing two years ago.  Sure, I had done a few big trips, but I still carefully planned out each detail of every trip.  Now, I’m so used to it that, more often than not, I just wing it.  I don’t confirm tour guides or reservations.  I don’t plan detailed routes or minute-by-minute itineraries.  I’m good enough at it that usually everything works out.  However, every once in a while, everything falls through.  I am experienced enough, though, to know how to adapt, and that’s I’ve had to do today, adapt.

Before I get on with the details of what happened, I want to remark on an interesting similarity between now and October 2013.  The whole reason I went to Panama was because the Government shutdown caused me to cancel my National Parks trip, because the House refused to pass a stopgap funding measure.  Now, Speaker Boehner is losing his job in no small part for passing one of those stopgap funding measures.  After the government reopened, who put together the new budget?  Paul Ryan, among others.  Now, with the Republican Party on the verge of collapse, Mr. Ryan appears to be their last, best hope for unity.  No one was prepared for any of this, least of all Paul Ryan, and there are very similar parallels to the urgency to nominate Vice President Biden for president with the impending collapse of Hillary Clinton.

Okay, so I had the flight, the tour guide, and hotel all booked.  That should have been enough.  It would have been.  I had been unsure if I would be able to leave work early today and get to work late on Tuesday, so I had booked the tour guide for just Sunday and Monday.  Wait, no, that’s not right.  Whatever it was, I booked the tour guide for Sunday and Monday, and they appeared to confirm.  I emailed her today to ask if I could change it to Saturday and Sunday.  Right, because I had originally planned to fly out Saturday morning, and now I was flying out Friday afternoon instead.  Anyway, I got a response that I had never acknowledged the confirmation, and they were now overbooked and didn’t have any availability.  Fuck!

They suggested I ask my hotel to arrange a tour guide.  The wheels in my head were spinning.  These were not exactly well known tourist spots, nor were they in any way close to the capital of San Jose.  What I’m saying is that it wasn’t anywhere as simple as hailing a taxi and having the taxi driver take me around.  I needed a knowledgeable guide with a solid commitment.  I got in touch with the travel agency, but she said it was impossible.  I hate that word.  I am not hiring your agency for trip planning advice.  I am hiring you to provide me with a car and driver to guide me.  I am well aware of the times.  My question is, is the driver willing to put in the hours and the miles.  Fernando would have done it.  Enrique would have done it.  After a lot of back and forth and numerous phone calls, I got my answer.  The driver was not willing.  I was not about to chance it with a taxi.

She suggested we drive to the first WHS on Day 1, overnight in Liberia, drive back to San Jose Day 2, and see the other WHS Day 3.  I literally booked the hotel in Liberia as we were boarding the plane.  The, price, however, was outrageous, as in it would constitute 50% of all trip-related expenses, more than air, lodging, and food combined.  I didn’t see any other option.  There was one other small problem.  I actually wanted to see two WHSs on Day 3, and I thought the other one was en route, but the driver might push back, and then I’d be fucked.  The more I thought about all this, the worse of an idea it all seemed.  There was one other option.

I went to Hertz’s website and reserved a car, a big SUV.  The price, less than a quarter of what I would have had to pay the guide.  I called the tour guide and cancelled.  In the end, I came full circle.  My first trip to Central America I went at it alone, and I haven’t done so since then.  Now, with my last trip to Central America (if everything goes well), I am going at it alone once more.  Alright, so what about Day 0?

It has become an almost unofficial tradition for me to wake up hungover on Day 0, rush to get packed, and suffer through a busy day at work.  Perhaps it is a sign of maturity at 28 that that was not the case for this trip.  However, my lack of preparations did apply to this regard.  Typically, Day -1 is beyond the scope of the Travelogue, but it speaks to the point.  I had not packed or anything by yesterday, hadn’t even done laundry, didn’t have any clean socks.

After work, I went to drop off my laundry at 8 PM, asking if they could have it ready before they closed at 11 PM.  My movie would be over by 10:45 PM or so, and I could pick up the laundry on my way home.  No, they were too busy, so they couldn’t have it ready until 9 AM the next day (today).  Crap.  I wanted to get to work early, so that was no good.  They agreed to 8 AM.  I figured that I could work remotely in the morning, get my clothes, pack my socks, shower, get dressed, and be at work by 8:30 AM.  I figured wrong.

Back to Thursday night, I went out for Chinese, but my sesame beef was too spicy, so I didn’t enjoy it.  I would have sent it back, but I didn’t have time for them to make a new dish if I was going to get to my 8:40 PM movie on time.  The movie (Pan) sucked, too, really bit the big one, which was a real shame, since I had been really looking forward to it and had high hopes for it.  I woke up at 7:30 AM, lit up a Jericho Hill, and worked remotely for an hour.  In the end, I got to work at 9:08 AM, a minute late.  Fuck.

I had a busy and highly productive day at work, especially since I had gotten the most tedious part of the day out of the way before I even got in.  I left a little before 1 PM, got my usual pre-departure lunch from Hop Won.  I then went to Duane Reade to pick up some Nexium, as I was down to one pill and did not like my chances of finding any in Costa Rica.  I went to the cigar shop, where I picked up the cigar I had dropped off in the morning, got my hand shakes, relit the cigar, and headed to Citibank to get some cash for the trip.

I found a taxi with some difficulty, but I got to the airport with plenty of time.  I checked in, went through security, and had lots of time at the gate to figure out the tour guide situation and get caught on the news.  I soon boarding the plane, and I had the entire three-seater to myself, in an exit row (better than first class) where I proceeded to write this entry once we reached cruising altitude.  I got a snack box, a Diet Coke, and, to my delight to see onboard, a Buffalo Tracve bourbon, one of my favorites.  On that note, I will close so that I can finish my bourbon and figure out how to spend the next three hours until we land.


San Jose, Costa Rica



There’s no Ottawa, Canada entry in this Travelogue, since I started the Travelogue after my big Canada trip, but the rest of them are there.  “Mexico City, Federal District, Mexico,” “Panama City, Panama,” “Washington, District of Columbia,” “Guatemala City, Guatemala,” “Tegucigalpan, Honduras,” “Managua, Nicaragua,” “San Salvador, El Salvador,” “Belmopan, Belize,” and, now, here it is, the last one, “San Jose, Costa Rica.”  Ten countries in continental North America, and now I’ve visited them all.

It’s not been easy, and it’s not even close to over.  I have numerous challenging trips left in Canada, U.S., and Mexico, and “Costa Rica Complete” is still three days away.  This is but Day 0 of what promises to be an intense trip.  Sitting here in front of the National Assembly, I finally feel prepared for the next three days.  It was slightly after 7 PM local time when I got off the plane at SJO.  The hotel was less than 20 klicks away.  I did not get to the hotel until 9 PM.  The line for immigration moved way too slowly.

After I cleared it, I picked up some cigars at duty-free.  She told me the price, I picked up nine cigars and handed her what I thought was exact change.  She handed me some change.  Wait, what?  Was my math off or my Spanish.  I got As in both subjects in high school.  Surely I could not have forgotten the difference between once and ocho, could I have?  I could have misheard, I suppose.  Either way, I was glad to have the cigars at a much lower price than I thought.  I cleared customs and went to the Hertz counter, but he told me that they do everything at the main office.  It seemed that his only purpose was to direct people to the van that took customers to the main office.  With the Immigration booths so understaffed, I found it quite ironic.  That was when the fun began.

Reader, I had a splitting headache and was starving at this point.  I just wanted that first Official meal in Costa Rica.  The van took me on some back roads, and the driver asked me where I was going.  I told him San Jose.  He said that it was usually 25 minutes.  He pointed to the traffic and said it would probably be an hour and a half.  I couldn’t tell if he was joking.  When we got to the office, the clerk told me the most ridiculous thing.  He said that because my CC didn’t have raised numbers to create an imprint, he couldn’t create a voucher, and I would have to purchase the collision damage waiver, even though my CC would have covered me otherwise.  The price he quoted me, with a large deductible, was over double the original quote.  Between the GPS, the CDW, and the third party liability, those items alone were more expensive the rental and taxes.  It was still cheaper than the guide, but only marginally so now.

Still, I figured I’d be better off going this one alone.  I got everything situated in the car and got on the road.  Reader, I had driven in four countries in Central America.  I was unprepared for the driving here.  Outside of India and Israel, I have never witnessed such aggressive driving, and this might even be the worse.  Not only aggressive, but unsafe and obnoxious.  This is not a country where you can focus on the radio or the controls.  You have to be 100% focused on the road 100% of the time.  People cut in front of you, cars back out of driveways without yielding, so much bad driving.  It was quite a harrowing experience to make it to the hotel.

I had lit up one of the Partagas cigars I picked up at duty-free once I got on the road, and I was almost finished by the time I got to the hotel.  I took a ceremonial picture, literally fighting back tears as I recognized that I had now been in all ten countries on the North American continental mainland.  I ditched the cigar and checked in.  The restaurant had a local dish and was still open, so that would be my plan.  The clerk told me they didn’t have any rooms with views available, but he could switch me to a room with a balcony Sunday night.  That would be good.  He wasn’t kidding when he said my room didn’t have a view.  There was a small, frosted window, and I couldn’t imagine it was overlooking anything interesting.  It didn’t matter, though, as I couldn’t see through it.

I changed and headed down to the restaurant.  I got guacamole and chips, a local beer, their local specialty with beef, and a crème brulee.  The main dish was very disappointing, as it was a tiny portion of beef, like really tiny, a small amount of plantain, and lots of rice, beans, and salad.  When it came out, I announced, “57,” signifying this was now my 57th country.  I then said, “Well, that’s all ten of them, and it’s been a hell of a journey,” referring to the numerous journeys I have undertaken to see all ten countries on the continental mainland.

After dinner, I lit up an Opus X and walked the two blocks to the main plaza in front of the National Assembly, where I sat down and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can finish my cigar in this happening plaza before I got back to the hotel and get to sleep.  Oh, right, my hotel room doesn’t have AC, but it’s close to the National Assembly, so that’s what matters, I guess, and it was cheap, real cheap.

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