Hey Cheech, lookie-here!

I pranced out of immigration in Cancun for a 2 hour layover, and had just cracked open a Modello when none other than Cheech Marin comes into view, sending me into some weird internal Papparazzi debate that lasted about 3 seconds before I realized there was no reason to bother this guy. I would however, get my shot from a distance of 15 yards with a telephoto lens I had hoped to spy a macaw on (never happened). So Cheech will have to do ...



...sporting a not-so-cutting-edge louis vuitton travel bag, he was busy on his smart phone for most of the time he was sitting there. Interesting enough, the following day there is a story on the front page of CNN.com about how he handily beat Anderson Cooper in Celebrity Jeopardy that very day winning $50,000 for a Hispanic charity of some type. Apparently he's well-read and intelligent ... Anderson said on his own show later on that there was 'something wrong with his buzzer'.... really.

On to San Jose

Because I was not able to deal with the parts situation earlier, I absolutely had to get back to San Jose a day before flying back to the states to get what I needed. If they didn't have the goods, I'd find myself in a pointless place, cutting my trip short for naught. At this point in the trip, replacing the parts I had damaged was more out of courtesy than anything else, and I really wanted to avoid going back to the rental place with the potential impression that I didn't care about their machine, which is not the case. The guys at the parts desk were amazing, and had everything I needed for US$46! It was a proper bag full of spares, and I have to imagine it would have been several times that amount in the states. With the bike sorted, I had time to get a shower, organize a bit, wash and DRY a few things, and have a decent night out before returning the bike in the morning and catching a flight out of Costa Rica ...

Where are the monkeys Manuel?

I woke up to howler monkeys alternately competing with tropical bird calls at 5:30 am. The howler monkeys have special vocal chords that allow them to sound much bigger than they are. It's effective and not designed so sound pleasant. This mismanaged symphony continued for an hour before I knew that neither camp was going to give up so I started my day a little earlier than I wanted, but not by much as I had to leave for San Jose by 11 in order to get there by 2 to get the parts I needed. I spent a few hours exploring the cove and the national park it sits next to. Beautiful place and I'm glad I made this far south.

Then the rains came ...

A real equatorial soaking had me drenched in seconds with Manuel Antonio still an hour away at top clip. A relatively miserable ride, in part because you know what you're in for when you do get to where you're going - wet everything. With humidity near 100% day and night, it's impossible to dry your clothes naturally, or at least in any reasonable amount of time. I was very much looking forward to a hotel with air conditioning and a lavanderia. What I got was a crappy cabana with a weak fan and a broken clothes dryer. Of course, I didn't discover that the dryer was broken until after I had washed everything, so now absolutely everything is soaking wet again. The only way to dry the jeans and a T was to wear it to dinner. Not ideal but it's surprising how much less it matters after you have a couple beers.

Jesus Christo

You don't need look very far, or perhaps at all, to find the guy. He's apparently doing rounds between a very vacant stretch of road between the tropical beach town of Jaco and Manuel Antonio.



This gringo fully ran out of gas deep in a long run between towns, and I had made it about 1km pushing my bike before my own personal savior shows up and offers plenty of his. I was drenched in sweat and cursing the fact that I had been riding on the reserve tap since switching it on before the last fill up, essentially eliminating the existence of a reserve amount of gas. Heartbreakingly stupid, and especially so when you're trying to make it someplace special before night fall. The delay could have been several hours, as it was 8 km's before the next station and you cannot push a bike very fast in the tropics. We recycled a roadside Coca-Cola bottle for the transfusion, without spilling a drop.

Leaving the beach, for another beach.

I left Casa Brian and headed toward the reasonably sized town of Nicoya with the goal of getting the parts I needed to fix the bike I had to return in a few days. I went to no less than 5 shops, all had nothing. It was clear that the Honda distributor in San Jose was the only place that might be able to help at this point, but going there was an unattractive option, because San Jose looks like this.



Actually, that looks pretty good for San Jose, as good as it gets. From Nicoya, I had a few options outside of San Jose, none more appealing than Manuel Antonio, a 5 hour ride along the coast through the failed and distressed port town of Puntarenas. Having been to Manuel Antonio several years before, I knew what I was getting into, and it's the only thing that made that run even remotely possible. It's a beautiful beach, in a gorgeous cove, and I'd be there by 6pm.

Buena Noche at Casa Brian

After a moderate struggle with a place to crash on the coast, I happened upon Casa Brian. It didnt matter that it was on the beach, or that it was as charming and clean as it was, but rather that they had a room and it had a fan and a pillow. Brian is a expatriate from Nova Scotia, a 50 something guy that was a commercial fisherman for 20 years before his body gave out from the job. I regret not having taken a picture of him, because he's very much the part. He has a 20 acre coffee farm about 45 km's away, and is close to leaving the beach for it after another high season. He runs a small operation, maybe 4 rooms, at least 2 of them shares. Although he offered, I'm not the type to share a room with other travelers (out of respect) when I've been on a motorcycle all day in 90 degree swelter and the prospect of a shower is all that's moving me forward. Really great night out at the Mexican restaurant up the road. Fresh fruit and homemade jam for breakfast, everyone cleans their plate and does their own dishes.