David, Panama

Nov 30, 2004

David is the second largest city in Panama. After a long day of travel and adventure, and a bit of anxiety crossing out of Costa Rica, constantly looking over our shoulders and expecting the worse at police checkpoints, we rode through David in darkness, looking for a hotel.

The Panamerican Highway from San Jose, Costa Rica was extremely poor and full of potholes that make you wonder if you broke a rim every time you hit one. The Highway went up to about 14,000 feet, through a forest that was covered in mist. It was freezing. Turns were extremely tight, and because it is the only road that traverses the country, it was full of trucks and tour buses, repairs and missing lanes. There are several very dramatic valleys with little towns nestled between the mountains. the potholes are enormous, and often full of water.

I went to buy gas and found out someone had given me a counterfeit 5000 Costa Rica shekel note. I thought about trying to exchange it with one of the backpackers on the border but decided to keep it as a souvenir instead. So I am out $11.

In Buenos Aires, Costa Rica, we stopped for lunch and my motorcycle, for no reason I can think of, picked itself straight off the kickstand and fell over to the right against a car and broke the mirror, not to mention scraping the side of the car. Of course I didn't see it happen, and have no idea how it could have. Previously, the bike has never shown an inclination to  lift itself up off the kickstand and fall in the oposite direction.

Fortunately, the owner of the car just happened to be standing beside the bike when I got there. He was very pleasant, and I offered him $40 for the damage, in order to maintain the sense of pleasantness that pervaded the scene. He suggested we go to a repair shop to see what it would cost, and so Mark and I followed him to the repair shop.

We passed five repair shops on the way to the special one, where he went inside and brought out the owner. After looking at the car, the owner of the bodyshop told me the door and fender of the car would have to be painted, because my bike had scratched a couple of places where the car had already been keyed by someone else. It was going to cost me a lot, and I could not tell if he intended to paint around or over the rust spots on the fender.

I offered the guy $50 and 5000 Costa Rica shekels. He held firm for $112, so he could get the side of his car painted, repeating over and over that it was not his fault that my bike fell against his car. I said "okay, I will go to the automatic teller," got on my bike and headed off in that direction, with Mark right behind me.

The ride to the border was fast and the falling rain made the potholes easier to see. 

I'm sure somewhere in Buenos Aires, Costa Rica a woman is telling her husband he is an idiot for not taking the $50.

On the border with Panama I had to pay $5 for a visa, because I'm from the USA, and Mark, being Dutch, didn't have to pay anything.

 

Playa Tamarindo, Costa Rica

I made it to Costa Rica. When I first thought about making this trip about three years ago, this was where I intended to end up. Mark and I spent last night in Liberia, Costa Rica, in the Hotel Liberia, where for $7 each we got to share a room with private bath and fan. In the morning, there was a breakfast of scrambled eggs, rice, beans and toast for another couple of bucks. The town is supposedly one of the rougher in Costa Rica, but by the time it gets going, I am usually exhausted and fast asleep. Crossing over from Nicaragua was a hassle. If you don't use one of the border guides to get you through, the officials start nickel and diming you before they will let you leave the country. We had to pay a mayors fee of $1, an after hours fee of $2, and three dollars for a passport stamp, which we got receipts for $2 for, so the government official got himself a couple of dollars for his efforts.

I haven't seen a lot of Costa Rica so far, but the infrustructure seems vastly improved over the other countries of South America. The people appear to take pride in their country, and the only unwashed masses I have seen are the hoards of backpackers that refuse to bathe or pay two dollars more for a room with a bathroom. And I stole their soap, so they can't bathe if they wanted to.

Tonight I'm going to watch endangered turtles lay eggs and afterward have a nice omelette and some soup made fresh on the beach. The beach towns are expensive, and full of surfers and more backpackers.