In preparation for our visitors who were soon to come, we continued the search for the best of Costa Rica. However, first was another short gig with a fellow couchsurfer. Not that we had much need for this, as we had a van to sleep in, but the idea of couchsurifing was such a neat concept that we just enjoyed the experience of it. There we were complete strangers, Christopher a recent Polish migrant to Costa Rica and us the Canadian Bosnian trio exploring Costa Rica. Not having a common language, the communication took place in Spanish (by Christopher) and English (by us). Each of us (with some minimal sound effects and mimery) was able to understand the other, this gave us a great sense of accomplishment, which faded once his Costa Rican neighbours came in speaking Spanish without us understanding a word of it. Our host was also a former employee at an Italian restaurant as well as a pizzeria. For us this was great news, as he proceeded to prepare an amazing spaghetti lunch followed by some home made pizza for dinner. We were giddy with excitement at the prospect of non cabbage/carrot/bean meal we were about to have. And there it was, a place of couchsurfing, where (for the most part) strangers are greeted like old friends and where fear mongering has no hold.
We parted ways with Christopher to head to Costa Rica’s east coast, better known for its reggae vibe (at least Puerto Viejo). From there we ventured back through the central valley over 3000 meter high mountains and down to the Pacific mainland coast.
West Pacific mainland beaches, like many other beaches may be secluded during workdays, but on weekends they fill up with Costa Rican families picnicking and camping. The food was plentiful, at least on their end, as they enjoyed bbq meets, fried chicken and other home made meals along with gallons of pop and chips. Not having prepared so well, we enjoyed smelling their delicious meals while preparing our own dough stuffed with cabbage concoction, or what in El Salvador they might call pupusas. Aside from eating, other activities included swimming, as you would figure on a beach, but not quite as you would picture. Swimmer’s squealed and giggled excitedly, arms flailing in all directions as waves bashed into them, while others just rolled around in the sand, with a more of a beached wale look. From previous misadventures we have learned that there is a reason locals do as they do, so we followed in their path, throwing ourselves against the waves and rolling in the sand.