After being in Liberia for less than five whole days (and only working three), this weekend I set off on my first trip in Costa Rica. I spent the weekend in Playa Sámara (<– map), a beach on the west coast of Costa Rica.
After work on Friday, I caught a couple buses from Liberia to Nicoya and then Nicoya to Sámara. Unlike the air-conditioned, bathroom-equipped buses I was used to in Argentina, Central America’s buses aren’t nearly so luxurious. Only the special, over-priced tourist buses have air-conditioning and bathrooms on buses are unheard of. The times scheduled for leaving are more of a suggestion than a reflection of reality and it would go against a drivers’ instinct not to stop every couple hundred meters to let someone off or pick up a Tico on the side of the road. The bus I took to Sámara was no more than a retrofitted school bus, with a rope buzzer strung along the top and space for a hydraulic bus door chopped out of the back end. Driving up and down the mountains, I was definitely questioning whether or not the bus would make it. Picking up tremendous speed going down hill and taking blind corners at what-had-to-be unsafe speeds made me question whether the brakes even worked at all. With a little help from some kind Ticos, I got off the bus in Sámara only 3 ½ hours after leaving home (a surprisingly short trip).
Maybe it makes me crazy, but busing is one of my favorite parts about traveling. It’s a constant puzzle. “Where do I get on? When do I get off? Will the driver stop or do I have to ask? Am I going to end up at a terminal or just on the side of the road? What if I got on the wrong bus? Where does the next bus leave from? Do I buy a ticket or just pay the driver? Is the stop anywhere close to civilization or do I have a hike in store? What do I do once I get there? Where is “there”? What if I screw it up?” It could be the combination of anxiety and adrenaline that keeps me coming back. That or the incredibly low travel costs. I also find the reflection time enjoyable. I love not being responsible for anything for an hour or two and just enjoying the view. Buses are great for people-watching too. It’s usually mostly locals and it’s fun to get a glimpse into people’s lives simply by watching: Grandmothers, moms and children, boyfriends and girlfriends, even perfect strangers.
Sámara is nothing if not small and touristy and the main street where I ended up walked directly into the beach. I spotted a travel agency and got a recommendation for a cheap hostel only two blocks from the beach. (To be fair, nothing was further than four.) “Checking in” consisted of telling the old man in the rocking chair that I’d like a bed for two nights, him handing me a key and me giving him $20. I ended up with a three-bed private room with a bathroom and a working fan. A pretty good deal for the location-price combination. No hot water, of course, but I’m coming to expect that here. You know how sometimes you can’t figure out new shower faucets right away? “Do I turn and pull? Or just turn? Does this pulley-thing plug the drain or start the shower?” This wasn’t one of those. Turn the knob. Cold water comes out of the pipe at the top. Yay simplicity.
I arrived after the sun had already set, so I spent a short night wandering the little town and the beach before heading to bed early. The sun woke me up at 5:30 (just like normal) and I had time to hit a local bakery for breakfast before my morning started. I had arranged for a tour of the area on horseback and my guide met me across the street from my hostel at 8. I was lucky enough to have the tour to myself and I got to enjoy a three-hour ride on beaches and over small mountains with my guide. We saw birds, monkeys, iguanas, wild horses, and plenty of beach overlooks. Pictures show more than I can describe so check them out here!
After a wonderful, dehydrating ride, I was ready to hit the beach. I earned myself a nice sunburn enjoying the waves and the warmth for the afternoon. The sunsets in Sámara are supposed to be pretty noteworthy so I set out early to try to find a good spot to watch. While I did enjoy a nice sunset, I also ended up a couple miles away in my quest for a good watching spot. I walked so far that I ended up in a neighboring area outside of Sámara. The sand flies were so bad that I had to find a local hostel where I could call a cab to go back to central Sámara. I ate dinner at this restaurant where no one else was eating. I noticed they were playing Spanish Christian music on the speakers, but mostly songs I didn’t know. Then Hillsong came on, in Spanish! Songs I knew in English, sung in Spanish, by a band I listen to. Not only was the food good, but I just sat there laughing while I was eating. Of all the places/songs to find something familiar. After that, I started again from the hostel and spent a while just enjoying the sand and the sound of the waves before calling it a night.
They say that good things come to those who wait. And if “good things” include rickety school buses, they’re right. Forty minutes after it’s scheduled departure time, the bus that was going to take me back to Liberia showed up at Sámara‘s only bus stop. A couple hours later and I was back home safe and sound with Yelba in Liberia. In a little more pain than when I left (sunburn + horseback riding), but having enjoyed an incredibly pleasant weekend.