Meaning to Life

Lonely Planet tells you and I am telling you

They say you can never say never. I have one serious exception: never, ever put anything that you own of value on the luggage rack in a Costa Rican bus especially between San Jose and La Fortuna (the usual journey to see the Arenal volcano).

At the time I was travelling with Pete the Viking Swede and we had noted on page 580 of the invaluable Lonely Planet guide to Central America on a Shoe String there is a prominently placed boxed text item specifically warning against this. Peter and I were sitting on the rear most seats of the bus, conveniently just beside the rear exit door. Suddenly there was a lurch of the bus and money dropped down between my legs seemingly from an old guy standing in front of me, I thought he was waiting to get off and I was not wrong. He was actually very very eager to get off the bus. I naturally stooped down to pick it up when I looked up the man was gone quicker than you can say 6 colones, the precise value of the coins he had relinquished (total value about one US cent). In the second I was grappling to recover his money the kind old forgetful gentleman had helped himself to a bag immediately above our heads. It wasn’t my bag nor was it Peter’s but that of another unsuspecting young Costa Rican passenger who after about 20 minutes discovered his loss when he was about to disembark from the bus. It transpired that the old thief had escaped with five new pairs of shoes which the young fellow mourned in particular because they actually belonged to other people. Unknown to me during the incident it seems that Vikings can be very untrusting especially of others marauding in their own territory (presumably something that was self-taught) and Peter, sitting on the window-side of the bus, had been eagley watching my back in case the thief dipped his hands into my pockets but not noticing what he was doing with them on the luggage rack.

As if to finally cement the “never” idea not too many days later we bumped into another very experienced traveller from Poland who had been denuded of his camera, money and other personal belongings. “It was just seconds that I had my stuff there,” he defensively opined. Where did he have the stuff… you bet on the luggage rack!

It does not take long to realize that there is something seriously wrong, apart from failure to put up street signs, with the authorities in Costa Rica that something that is advertised worldly wide such as in a Lonely Planet publication after so long (at least 2 years since publication of the edition I had) that they cannot do something to hinder this. I naturally indicated quite volubly my disgust to the rest of the bus who in predictable fashion shrugged their shoulders and pointed to yet another authority problem; “they don’t do anything with them even when they catch them,” the passenger on the other side lamely claimed.

So the two safety tips I have for Central America is NEVER put anything on a luggage rack in a bus in Costa Rica and always be very very careful about which kind of vehicle you hop into even if you think it is a taxi near Tipitapa in Nicaragua.

 

 

The horse parade that tops all Costa Rican horse parades

Just a month after the ox-cart parade downtown San Jose presents another testament to Costa Rican transport through the ages. This time it is all about the horse. Once again the parade, conveniently for me, passed right through barrio Lujan adajcent to Hostel 1110.

The event dates back to colonial times when it was of course the only form of relatively speedy transport and marked the inauguration of the San Juan festivities while determining which were the fastest riders and best horses of the day.
Reportedly it is the largest people-watching event of the Costa Rican calendar and the extent of its popularity can be seen here in some of the photos I took of last year’s activities. If you look closely you will see at least a couple of famous people. President Laura Chinchilla would be one.

And as a little travel trip if you stand around barrio Lujan next month, on the 26th to be precise, you will be able to see the great event all over again.

 

 

To be with all the other bananas of course!

Due to it’s simple abundance at any time of the year waltzing around central America could make you think that the banana ranks low in the esteem ratings. They are everywhere, any time you want and the price – well they are a real steal but that is not to take away from the lifelong value with which I have always revered them.

It all began as a child when we heard with childhood boredom time and again from our father that there used to be a man with a barrow standing outside Her Majesty’s Devonport Naval Dockyard in Plymouth on a Friday just at clocking off time where my father’s father worked and received his weekly pay packet. This, apparently, was always his first easy consumer decision of the new spending week. Six pence bought a bunch of seven and probably could not have been money better spent for the family. As there was a family of four I now wonder how they arranged the seven to be divided each week. Funny how so many years later the boredom turns to interest and curiosity. So cemented in my childhood learnings and such a genuine fixture in the family memory archives that it is hard to imagine that the man and his barrow are still not there.

In Costa Rica, at least, the banana retains its position of importance, enough even to halt the traffic!
Travelling along on a typical semi-tropical Costa Rican road our bus was brought to a casual but seemingly natural stop of near homage as we witnessed the bananas rush from one side of the road to the other.

 

 

Tortuguero and Cabinas Miss Miriam #2 by motor boat

The Costa Rican Atlantic coast is certainly less visited than that of the Pacific probably for all sorts of reasons but beginning with the geographic fact that it is somewhat less accessible. I soon found it more to my own liking and that is probably because of the very starting point of it indeed being less visited.

We set off to travel the length of that Atlantic coast (well almost the length, Barra del Colorado is actually even more inaccessibly to the north just before the Nicaraguan border) heading for our first port of call in Tortuguero. Our entry to this part of the world had an initial very favourable impact due to the unconventionality of another form of Costa Rican transport: motor boat along the river from Cariari.

Tortuguero is a little gem in the ecological cornucopia that is Costa Rica and endeared itself to me precisely because of its inaccessibility by car or bus. For good old fashioned urbanites the entrance to the enclave is entertaining and exciting. The motorised launch shoots you right into the centre of the community. Tortuguero most certainly qualifies as a vacation idyll that allows you to get away from it all. Sure there are tourists but at times I felt almost as if I wasn’t one which is quite an exceptional knack for a place, which clearly relies heavily on tourism, to engender.

We can thoroughly recommend a stay at Cabinas Miss Miriam number 2 (the number 2 seemed to be important although we never actually saw a number 1) where the owners personified the kindly laidbackness of the community and the following video provides a little visual taster.

 

 

Ox-carts used to rule the Puntarenas highway and Costa Rican drivers had a more relaxed attitude to the meaning of life

After a very enjoyable time journeying all around the rural central highlands and Pacific coast side of Costa Rica in our minimalistically budget rent-a-car we drove back to the centre of San Jose and the Dollar rental car company on Paseo Colon only to find the way barred by a reminder of bygone transport times in Costa Rica.

The festival of the ox-cart parade is almost exclusively homage to a very ecological transportation method of yesteryear. In observance of the importance of agriculture to the country and hopefully also at least as a passing salute to the ecological urges of today, Costa Rica reveres its oh so sublime method of transporting goods in the past. In the 19th century yoked oxen pulling a cart loaded with coffee bound for export to the wealthier markets of Europe and north America was the means by which the Costa Rican farmer got his produce out of the Central Valley to the main Pacific coast export outlet of Puntarenas.

These ox-carts were first introduced in the 1840s, taking over from the presumably less yokable mule, and lasted through to the middle of the 20th century although coffee was increasingly transported via the Atlantic-bound railway towards the turn of the century. The railway offered the coffee industry a huge double gain. Not only was the previous 10-15 day ox-cart journey reduced to one but incredibly the Atlantic outlet at the port of Limon circumvented the need to take coffee all around the Cape of Good Hope to markets in the northern hemisphere.

The colourful pageantry of the festival of the ox-cart parade follows along the central Paseo Colon from Sabana park of San Jose every November 29th.

 

 

 

Still in training for the Liveable City!

“There is a quirky rickety little single railway track with a quirky two carriage train that slowly passes very near-by continually sounding its horn and quaintly tingling its bell in warning because there are no level crossings and I suppose also because it does run right in the middle of the street “.

When I first arrived in San José I thought it was ever so atmospheric to hear that train jangling its bell repeatedly as it passed through barrio(district) Lujan, just a stone’s throw from Hostel 1110. While walking and jogging over and around the simple single track I often pondered as to the meaning of ‘its’ life. The track seemed very old and I observed two types of train: either rather dilapidated looking haulage engines or extremely modern passenger trains that, oddly, never appeared to have any passengers. Whichever way I looked at it it left me with a sense of sadness. Something really wasn’t right? How could they possibly run a two-way service on a single track? They certainly wouldn’t be able to keep this train running economically with the passenger numbers I saw. I could only conclude that it would eventually degenerate to a standstill and San José would be left without any railway service, not even have the minuscule service that it appeared to have.

A casual inquiry of Rodrigo, the main man in charge back at Hostel 1110, soon revealed that there was far more to this than met the eye. Juan, one of Rodrigo’s partners had been very much engaged in the city’s urban transport planning and he explained to me that the introduction of an urban train network was part of a green plan for a “Liveable City” (Una Ciudad Habitable) for San José. What I had been observing was merely part of a kind of pilot plan.

This put a wholly different complexion on my sad quirky rickety confused train and its track. It immediately dispelled the sadness and engendered a new sense of well-being with the culmination of all good things coming together in a bright new future: modernization, reduced traffic congestion and numerous ecological benefits; not least less pollution. The in-depth coverage of the full plans on the TREM (Tren Eléctrico Metropolitano) web site backed up the seriousness of the initiative and heightened my own enthusiasm. “So when is this all going to happen, Juan?” I asked. “Well”, and those dirtily arresting words were uttered, “it is all so political”.

The project has been on the table for many years and has been subject to numerous stops and gos usually for political reasons and even now, although a timetable was set up up last year for full implementation to begin between this year and next, the latest Costa Rica administration under President Laura Chinchilla is currently in contemplation of another grand metropolitan transport plan which could result in well… presumably a bit of a delay at the very least. The announcement of those particular plans has rather inconveniently not been given a date yet either.

That is the story seen principally from barrio Lujan in downtown San José but to be more San José-encompassing there has at least been greater movement on plans along the principal stretch of the urban network between central San José and Heredia. The inauguration finally came about in August last year, overseen by the then President Oscar Arias Sanchez, but it has a limited service running in the rush hour on weekdays only. The global San José urban transport plan is now waiting for Laura Chinchilla and her government for the launch of that Liveable City initiative.

For a Spanish translation of this article – San José Una Ciudad Habitable

 

 

Potholes, recklessness, falling trees and earthquakes – have a safe trip!

Now that the 2010 World Cup that Costa Rica could have won is over (don’t forget Costa Rica only very narrowly lost to the team that narrowly lost to the triumphant Spanish) the country can get back to planning and not just for the Brazil World Cup in 2014.

Some serious attention to transportation control and transport infrastructure planning would certainly not go amiss.

I have in previous blog posts passed comment on different aspects of San José’s transport situation and by way of an easily identifiable example I highlighted in some detail the very surprising lack of street signposting in San Jose causing considerable difficulty for the directionally challenged. I surmised from what locals said that the old bureaucratic evil of corruption was the villain behind this. Ticos were again willing to offer this as the ready reason for the deplorable state of some of the roads outside the capital.

We journeyed by car the length and breadth of the country and observed that virtually anywhere away from the notably “developed” Guanacaste region on the Pacific north side there was a serious problem with potholed roads. I came across this highly illustrative cartoon from a national newspaper noting that the problem has hardly gone unnoticed in Costa Rica.

The translation of the caption would go something like: “Look, excellent!... they’ve put down road markings!”

We observed apart from the fact that potholes were a common occurrence the true danger lay in their sporadicness and occasional dramatic size. In simple terms, just as you may be relaxing your attention on a relatively long uninterrupted section of smooth asphalt a single huge hole can suddenly appear that can swallow a large part of your car momentarily with underside damage being the least you are likely to get away with. I often cringed imagining what the perils must be like for motorcyclists and at night… dios mio!

Unfortunately driving dangers were not restricted to this but added to by commonly observable reckless driving habits. Some while ago I recounted my views of the narrow margins of safety afforded the pedestrian in San Jose by the car driver. Well, the San Jose car driving mentality is given space to fully blossom out in the provinces where speeding circuit takes on a more sinister meaning. Our observation was that the going rule for Tico drivers is that completely regardless of whatever else is happening you really must overtake. Very regrettably there were few days that passed without us seeing multiple remnants of accidents on the road side including numerous upturned cars. One could only conclude that many of these other drivers failed to see any correlation between the overturned vehicles at the roadside and their own overtaking recklessness.

Nature also plays its hand occasionally. Tropical rain quite easily loosens the soil and before you can say “timber” you might have to stop for a fallen tree or two. Here you can see -during our only night-time journey- the simple technique of removal. This particular tree blocked our way on the very scenic lakeside road that hugs the shores of Laguna Arenal.

And do not forget the aftermath of earthquake damage to Costa Rican roads either.

Bon voyage (buen viaje)!

For more background on aspects of current road transport in Costa Rica read “therealcostarica” blog especially the section on Road Conditions

Costa Rica Transport – Driving Dangerously

The entrapment conspiracy theory or the triumph of corruption?

I refer purely and simply to the status of the humble street sign in the Costa Rican capital of San José. Quite frankly it is abysmal. It is so abysmal that only the blind would fail to notice such a glaring hindrance to making your way around this city. I am talking specifically of signs for identifying the name of the street although it was fairly apparent in moving around on occasion by car that directional signs were none too common either.

To keep it simple there are four observable facts.
1. The norm is that there are none. Zip nada, absolute desert.
2. When they do appear they are nearly always attached to buildings on the corners at intersections.
3. The majority of the few that exist are difficult to read.
4. Some are impossible to read.

The paucity of these signs in a large city that obviously has sufficient resources and has failed to do anything about it for so long leaves the visitor with only one entertaining outlet on the subject which is to ponder as to why? There is, after all, ample time to do so as you trudge between unmarked street corners trying to work out where exactly you are.

If it is intentional, why so? Is it that it is just not important to San Joseans, is entrapment part of the picture or even exclusion, is it to confuse an unidentified enemy as the British tried by removing all street signs in case the German army should have made it across the channel during the second world war or is it trying to encourage people to tap more into a directional sixth sense?

If it is not intentional then what? Regrettably after consultation with locals it seems that the most likely reason is misappropriation of budgets; plain and simple CORRUPTION.

The story amusingly also encompasses the way in which they identify addresses which traditionally, thereby indicating that this has been going on a long time, do not necessarily use the names of the streets either but a commonly identifiable landmark. The hostel which has been my home for some time was 525 meters east of “La Biblica” (an admittedly well known hospital in the area) and for greater exactitude the address can include “the yellow house on the right”. The amusement value runs further when it is learned that sometimes they continue to use landmarks that no longer exist. I heard of one especially amusing locator, admittedly not in San José, as being: 200 meters west of where Juan’s cow gave birth last year.

This might help to support the theory that they just don’t need them but the inefficiency or corruption theory sounds more likely when you consider that some kind of attempt at signing of streets has happened at whatever low key level at some point in the past. Furthermore almost like a testament to logic from another world if you make your way to the junction of Avenida 14 and Calle 7 you will encounter a scene that is a sight for directionally challenged sore eyes:

Unique street corner sign post AND street plaques

Just makes you want to ask again why though?

The occasional helpful street sign in San Jose, Costa Rica	When you get on top of it, so much clearer now, don't you think?
Nicely painted corner building with helpful street name plaque	So much better - with a nice new paint over job that is!

 

 

Costa Rica’s Urban Conundrum

San José is a large capital city and is importantly the fulcrum of an even larger metropolitan area comprising also the separate cities of Alajuela, Heredia and Cartago, actually the capital of Costa Rica prior to 1823.

San José itself has the unremarkable reputation of being a rather tedious and ordinary urban city much like any other anywhere else in the world. However, in spite of the seemingly unspoken prerogative afforded to the motor car here in the downtown area, there are some redeeming features. For example there are some fairly sizable pedestrian thoroughfares, not an inconsiderable number of parks and various areas of other greenery scattered in and about. Considering Costa Rica’s very positive ecological stance it would be a travesty for the national agenda not to have some kind of an influence on its capital city.

At the west end of the city is the extensive La Sabana Park which was in fact the main aerodrome until international flight got very serious in our modern world and they created Juan Santamaria International Airport further to the west in Alajuela. The park is an ideal size for not being able to lose yourself but large enough to feel you have escaped from metropolitan life. At the weekend it is littered with various football (soccer) matches taking place: a clear reflection of the importance of football as the national sport. This however is not to the exclusion of baseball that also has a standing but based on numbers I saw in La Sabana Park football would win; actually “hands down”.

Of the other smaller parks dotted around, one morning I was fortunate enough to stumble across Parque Espana where a school group were practicing for a musical performance. Parque Espana lies a little to the north of the central area in Barrio Amon where the greenery of the park blends very nicely with some distinctively designed housing and hotel structures in the area.

I have also heard directly from the horse’s mouth (a member of a certain management project team here) that the city has some grand plans to make the city more “liveable”. The project focuses on a huge transportation renewal plan and the development of a modern urban transport system in the heart of the metropolitan area. Unfortunately this will take a lot of time and a lot of money and even more unfortunately it is at the dictate of the hands of an imminently changing government.

Meanwhile you can enjoy a current very liveable scene directly from Parque Espana.

 

 

Serendipitously travelling – a notch below the spiritual journey

I was happily minding my own business tucked away in this little corner of San José, actually very near the Vizquez Gonzalez Park on Avenida 14 and Calle 11 if you should be familiar with this city, when I had a serendipitous Skype chat with Peter “The Swede” that threw off numerous serendipitous by-products in a kind of serendipitous chain reaction. I was actually calling back to base camp in Boca Chica and discovered that Peter had turned up for his annual Dominican rest and recuperation. In good Viking tradition Peter does not hang about and upon learning where I was he immediately offered to run roughshod over (another of those Viking traditions) the formalities of a few hundred miles distance and a whole sea to make the same generous offer he made every year when we met up, “Dinner on me!”

A few days later there he was at the airport (Juan Santamaria International Airport, not actually in San José but in Alajuela one of the component parts of this extensive metropolitan area). I had no idea what, other than dinner, he had up his sleeve, although Vikings are indeed usually pictured without sleeves: I simply imagine it must have got terribly in the way of all the killing. I considered -in the knowledge of one of his other Viking traits (he liked messing about on boats)- it rare that he would be interested in San José (which with the gathering momentum of my geography for dummies has well established that we are most certainly not on any maritime coast here and don’t even have a small lake for a dinghy).

Fortunately for everyone, presumably including himself, Peter has given up the oldest Viking tradition of visiting foreign lands and simply taking, proven by the fact he immediately chalked up another free dinner for me as a payment for meeting him at the airport. On the journey to the airport I reflected on that fascinating world (that we can all enjoy at times) of the person with a little knowledge being way on top of the person without any knowledge; the stark simplicity of a world we can sometimes share with computers where there is an enormous difference between zero and one. From Peter’s viewpoint this was my town and my bus route. Though he did soon begin to see the error of that view when 40 minutes into the bus ride we were still seemingly some way off our target of downtown San José for what I had told him was a 25-minute journey.

Later that evening as I heartily consumed the first of my free dinner tickets (in deference to expediency I refrained from taking them both because it is just not possible to consume heartily twice at the same sitting) we talked of our relative situations and came up with an excellent travel plan of taking a journey together up to Costa Rica’s famously most active volcano Arenal and staying at La Fortuna about a three hour bus journey to the north west of San José.

A couple of days later with bags well and truly packed, and as we admittedly made rather a meal out of toast and coffee in our efforts to wake up before trotting off to the bus stop, we serendipitously learned that one of the other hostelers was just about to set off to the very same town of La Fortuna in his rental car to also visit the volcano.

Richard, the would-be doctor and temporarily resident artist, was at that moment waiting for his car to be delivered. Richard, without any Viking roots whatsoever, was unhesitating in offering us space in his Suzuki Alto, not usually one of their chief selling points but we really couldn’t ask him to upgrade just for our sakes and especially at such short notice, and we promptly sped off in the direction of La Fortuna. Speeding because that is what the San José traffic always does and with the aid of the absolutely indispensable GPS tracking device we could not only speed but keep on the right course that otherwise might have been perilous considering all the speeding that was going on.

In the great natural world of balanced energy (although how is it that the forces of destruction and construction are just so perversely asymmetrical?) for every serendipity I suppose there has to be an anti-serendipity and that came in the form of rainfall coinciding with our timed visit to La Fortuna. We had been warned that the non-appearance of the volcano was a common occurrence and we waited three days through a lot of rain and mist and the volcano barely even revealed its ankles.

As we careened around in our poncho protective gear we had our first experience of the world-renowned Costa Rican rain forest and were delighted to distinctly hear the volcano on one occasion as it belched out a deep rolling gaseous sound mixing perfectly into the swirling atmospheric mist. It was either the volcano or the as yet unseen Costa Rican Yeti but as far as we were concerned whichever it was it steadfastly remained completely and utterly out of sight!

Serendipitously travelling – a notch below the spiritual journey