Dancing Saddle

After the bus meandered uphill through the Costa Rican country side, I got dropped on the west side of San Jose. I had to navigate through the busy downtown to get to my hostel in Barrio Escalante. It was fascinating making my way through the crowded streets. I took a sedate pace trying to observe as much as I could. The markets, the stalls and the locals. Part of the way was an actual bike lane and the majority through crowded pedestrian roads. People going about their day, occasionally glancing up at this random cyclist.

Playing the random game at Alma Collective. The best ramen in San Jose.

I was staying in Hostal Finca Escalante which was repurposed from an old Finca in the gastro neighborhood of Barrio Escalante. It is a quaint building with lots of hidden little gems. They provide a delicious breakfast and helpful staff, but it needed a lot more work to make it a true gem. The absolute highlight was the hot shower. My first hot shower in weeks and it was epic. Nothing could be better in that moment than that shower.

Yes the ladder was leaning against the power / telephone lines. Libertario was my favourite cafe to do work and research.

I needed a coffee and serendipitously, I went to the Alma Collective. The owner, Adriana, and her partner, Carlos, were one of the most engaging people I met. They were so helpful with getting me ready for the next stage of my journey. At the same time, they were collecting food and clothes for all the victims of the flooding around Costa Rica. They were truly an invaluable source of information and support while I was sorting out what I wanted to do next.

It felt great getting a haircut and looking smart again. All the consumables and clothes collected by Alma Collective for the flood victims.

I spent the next few days doing some research in some of the beautiful cafes in the barro. It was a constant struggle as I slowly weighed up all my options. One thing I did know I was exhausted from all the rain and I missed the quiet adventure of the back roads and wild camping. I knew I wasn’t going to find it here or in Panama.

The unused fire place at the hostel. Guava yes please. Guava beer. Hell yeah.

It was a tough decision but it was time to fly. Where to I was not sure but I gave myself, the time needed to decide. The exact destination would have be a balance between a cheap flight and near the start of one of the many biking trails. After going back and forth between a few options I eventually settled on Arequipa in Peru. It was one of the start points of the Camino Del Puma. Once I had settled on the where, I realized I would have to get a Bolivian visa and a bike box. The excitement was back.

My craving for mexican food kicked in again. And a very delicious booby shot.

The next day was time to get a haircut and sort out some cash. I had been struggling to draw money from the ATMs in the Barrio and so a quick side quest to the local mall was required. After trying several different ATMs with no luck. It was literally the last one in the mall that finally worked and the relief of being cash wealthy washed over me. One hair cut later and it was back to the hostal to get all the documents together. Adriana was a super star at allowing me print at her coffee shop.

Innocent me before the disassembly of Lorraine begun. Pizza night with a non South African.

The next day it was off to where google maps said the embassy was and as fate would have it, two bike shops as potential sources of a bike box. It wasn’t there but thankfully it was nearby. Once I found it, I was quickly informed that I was missing the online application. I had to scurry off and find some free wifi and I ended up in McDonald’s. As luck would have it, the wall behind me was white so I could take a profile picture there as well. The next day I returned but then found out I had to pay the exact amount in dollars. Costa Rica excepts dollars but always gives the change in Colons. I only got lucky at the second bank. I rushed back covered in sweat but ready for some good news.

The goods and food at San Jose Central Market.

That done I went to go collect the bike box. They were very helpful and I bought some water bottles to show my gratitude. The next mission was getting the box on the bus so that I would not have to walk for over an hour carrying a gargantuan box. To my surprise I was able to find a willing bus driver. Back at the bostel I began the process of breaking down my bike.

Touching the statue for good luck. Some crazy cool key rings.

It was significantly more time consuming than I thought it would be and every step was more arduous than expected. Eventually I got most of the parts disassembled that needed to be done but I couldn’t get the peddles off. I decided to cycle back to collect my passport when it was ready and then at the same time have the bike shop loosen the pedals. Next day all went well and I was set for departure.

Some of the old architecture in San Jose.

I booked my flight and had a few more days at the hostel before I had to depart. I went to the local market to get myself a duffel bag and to try out some of the market food.

Uglies was one of my favorite brand of chips I found in South Korea and the first time I have seen it since. Lorraine all packed up and ready to fly.

I had a weird encounter at the hostel. I saw two guys arrive and I knew instantly before they even spoke that they were Afrikaans South Africans. I don’t know why but right there in that moment I didn’t want to interact with any South Africans, especially Afrikaaners. To make matters worse they were in my dorm room. Every time they spoke, I had to hide my smile and I had to go the extra mile to pretend I was not a friendly person. I know it was wrong of me but that was what I felt at that moment. It was hard to explain but I enjoyed my journey more thinking that I was the only South African out there.

Delicous dulche de leche candy. My last coffee in Costa Rica.

The next day it was time to leave. It was hard to say goodbye to Central America. It was an amazing journey but nothing like I thought it would be. I also knew it would take me a long time to process. And as I type this, I still have not finished processing what I have gone through and experienced. I am not sure I ever will. I am okay with that.

Lorraine at the Airport. The plane taking me away from Central America.

I have so many valuable memories. Some a struggle but most of them are about the choices I made and the accomplishments I having done what I did. And mostly the wisdom that I picked up through this magnificent experience.