Costa Rica (Page 2) Hold onto your Wallets Bitches

.....I'm telling you, the Harpers are cursed and I KNOW all them chicharones they were eating had something to do with it.

Question: Which of these events could ruin your vacation?
a) your car breaks down

b) you get mugged

c) you have shitty weather

d) you run out of beer

e) all of the above

I guess the answer to this would be "all of the above" - so thankfully only three of the four shitty things happened to us. We never did run out of beer - THAT would have ruined the vacation.

After hiking all day in the blazing-assed sun from Rara Avis - we got back to the car in Horquetas ready to get on the road to the Carribean coast. We showed up and the car had a flat tire - no big deal if you got time to burn, which we didn't. We change the tire and de-funk the car of some rotten food that was left for 3 days in the heat and finally hit the road. Getting dark so we end up staying at a road-side hotel (Las Palmas). Clean up, eat at the on-site restaraunt, drink some beers, Jen and Doreen go to bed and Earl and I drink another beer. It's 9:00 and the bar closes. We're finishing our drinks and hear some music coming from down the road. "Hey, sounds like a bar, lets go get another beer!" - What an awesome idea - it was only 100 yards down the road. Nevermind that we are dressed in tourist surf trunks and are totally out of place with the locals. The beer was good and there was even a bar fight between two young punk kids. Pretty cool. OK, midnight, let's head back to the hotel. (walking-walking -walking) - half way back in the pitch black, some fucked up dude shows up out of nowhere, right next to us and mubbling something. Next thing you know, two other dudes grab me from behind and I'm on the ground in the middle of the (normally busy) highway. After a long scuffle (it seemed long, but was probably only 30 seconds or so) one of the guys says "the money! - the money!" I pull out my wallet (which, dumb-ass me forgot to leave back in the room) and a third dude swoops in and takes it and takes off running down the highway. The other two guys jump down the embankment into to woods. Meanwhile Earl is trying to chase the guy with my wallet down - but he's gone (the fucker's on speed or some shit). We collect ourselves, Earls leg is bleeding (he got tackled but fought em off), we're both pissed. We head back to the hotel and there are the wives waiting for us - all upset and even MORE pissed. I lost my wallet with about $100/credit cards/drivers license/free drink with purchase of Burger and fries at Wendys coupon....and a headlamp (which I was geekily wearing when the shit went down) and my wedding ring which I didn't even notice was missing until 2 days later. I also had some road rash and two black-ish eyes. Earl kept everything but a bit of blood - he got sliced a few times by a broken bottle one of those punk asses had. Thankfully we were both OK and there were no knives or guns involved.

Finally made it to Puerto Viejo for a little beach time - you know lay around in the sun drinking lots of booze and pretending to know how to surf. First off, we spent several hours driving up and down the coast trying to find a place to stay - everyplace was booked. We happened upon El Pizote (or something like that) on the north end of town. The place was reasonable and frikin' awesome - the Colombian family that runs the place is great. Stay there if you're in the neighborhood.

OK - now, beach time. Wait a minute, it's raining. OK, lets drive down the coast and "sight see" until it stops. Oh wait, we've got a problem -the car won't start. Son-of-BITCH. Nobody in town owns jumper cables so we have to swap batteries with a cabbie dude to get it going. Sweet - we're in business - it's running. Let it charge baby, don't shut er down. After an hour of "charging" we shut it off to test it before we head out of town. Shit, it won't start again. We find a guy that does not have jumper cables, but he's got some "wire" - I'm talking LITTLE wire. His buddy says "don't worry, he's an electrician". He holds the wire on his battery and I hold it on ours and HOLY SHIT the dammed insulation is melting off the wire along with my palm prints. Battery swap number two.

Last resort: keep the car running all day long. Bad thing is: we need to stay close to the car AND there is no gas station in town so we can't run it too long. We make the best of it. The next day we waste bumming rides off of people to get a new battery for the rental car.

In the land of the "rent-a-rasta" (male prostitute) - you might want to stay away from the "Chocolate Salami".