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I had agreed to get a taxi at 7am with this (annoying older) American guy dave to Rivas and catch the international Tica bus from there to San Jose. Unfortunately the office wasn't open (well no one was at the desk!) and a guy there had told me when he bought his ticket the previous afternoon that yhere were only two seats left. Without getting too flustered I walked towards where the chicken buses left to go to the border, but ended up getting a young cool taxi driver who took me there for $15. A chicken bus would have cost me <$1 but would have been horribly crammed in and would've had to watch my stuff. The border crossing wasn't exactly a breeze. Someone lead me through though (I had a feeling he was going to expect some money in return and that it wasn't just a favour) and I only paid $1 more than I expected to so was a lot better than $10 more from Honduras to Nicaragua! I got a bit confused when I went into Penas Blancas (where it turns into costa rica) because the immigration place was not well sign posted, so went to buy my bus ticket without a stamp in my passport, which cannot be done! Got the 9:30 bus and was sweltering at the back by the window without any air because we were moving so slowly due to the kilometres of trucks banked up. We had four police checks of our passports within about an hour! It cooled down dramatically as we neared San Jose and poured a lot of the way. Got to San Jose and i realised I didn't have enough for the taxi to the other bus station so I had to walk! The streets were confusing and I had to ask a couple of people (thankfully I'm a good judge of character and got friendly ones!) where I was going. Didn't take long before I was freaking out a bit, and hating my life!! The quieter streets of downtown were pretty scary, with people saying things to me and one guy jumping with his hands like he was imitating a dinosaur and something trying to scare me. I held onto my stuff pretty tightly and was almost glad to get to the renowned pick pocketing area because it meant more people! I hopped in a taxi (I had enough to get from where I was!) to escape the rain and the driver was really nice and gave me a towel to soak up some of the water that I was covered in! I got out of the taxi near the bus station to find that the ticket place didn't have eftpos and the nearest ATM was outside and around some corners and through lots of crowds where I held my bag firmly and eventually got on board. The bus was a colectivo - meaning it stopped a lot, but I was pleased when I noticed that we went past the international airport so I didn't have to go back to San Jose again! Four hours later I arrived at Quepos, a gateway town to the famous Manuel Antonio national park on the pacific coast. I started walking in the wrong direction from the bus station (hate arriving anywhere in the dark!!!) but eventually found my way and checked into the hostel, 17 hours after I left this morning!
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