We earned our buddy passes by hopping on 3 layers of scaffolding and painting Mat's parents gigantic living room. Costa Rica was a random choice, but we were in need of somewhere out of the ordinary. When we were looking at where to stay, we chose the Caribbean side of the country, which is rural . Mat and I found and fell in love with a hostel called Rocking J's in a tiny town called Puerto Viejo de Limon in Talamanca. We rented 2 tents that were $6 per person, per night and planned our trip around that. With public bus instructions from San Jose where we were flying to, the four of us headed off for a week, unknowing of what awaited us.

As most of you who have travelled with buddy passes know...flying standby is a joy. But with Mat as our lucky charm, we made all of our flights without a hitch. From Salt Lake City to Orlando, and onto San Jose, Costa Rica, we landed safe and sound at 5 am. We hired a sketchy taxi to the public bus station where we were to catch the 4 hour bus to Puerto Viejo de Limon. What was supposed to be a 4 hour bus ride, turned into an 8 hour ride. People packed into every seat holding their luggage in a non air conditioned greyhound tour bus through the winding roads through the rainforest. Just leaving the city, we saw houses formed of multicolored tin and concrete, clothes lines bordering property lines. Rainbow eucalyptus trees among tall, thick, palm trees and a brown river running between. The bus ride was humid, most of the time spent just waiting. We were stopped in a long line on a two way road, the opposite side was clear of oncoming traffic, so when our driver saw an opportunity, he sped ahead in the line to where a coworker would clear a spot. Passengers who got stir crazy got out to wander among the banana trees and beverage stations.

When we finally arrived in central Puerto Viejo, at twilight, we walked parallel to the beach until we finally arrived at Rocking J's hostel with the huge banner over the entrance that read "Pura Vida" which seemed to be the motto of Costa Rica. We checked into our tents, situated on an upstairs porch, equipped with a matress and bedding. Then we went to find a place to eat, being famished and dehydrated from the exhausting trip. We found a little place, empty, but had an outside covered porch lit by candlelight. We each splurged on a "Pura Vida" cocktail, consisting of coconut water and liquor. The meals were cheap and decadent with rice and a muriad of vegitables in flavorful sauces. The waiter was patient with our American-ness, and very friendly; not only there to wait on us, but to socialize and get to know us, not as foreign customers but as welcome guests. After dinner, we all stumbled onto the beach in the absolute darkness. Then I heard the first scream from Bethie. She ran, picking her feet up high while putting some distance between her and whatever startled her. The second scream came from my own lips as I saw a shadow scurry across the sandy floor. Instinctively I perch myself on Mat's arm for...protection? I was worried about big hairy spiders, but found that there were several credit card sized crabs that blended perfectly with the sand. Needless to say, we watched our steps fairly closely. With some drinks in our stomachs we settled into our tents pretty early the first night and let the lull of the music in the bar ease us to sleep.

We woke early, sweating, and thirsty. After a cold shower in the communal tin facilities in the center of the grounds, we felt brand new. We treated ourselves to a decadent breakfast at Rocking J's bar where we feasted on crepes stuffed with fruit and honey, and the best breakfast burritos ever; accompanied by bloody marys and mamosas of course. A few friendly dogs of employees kept us company and made us feel welcome as we ate and explored the grounds. Walked the 20 yards to the beach and walked South in search of...anything. We walked through the rainforest at the edge of the sand, through the moist trees and thick air, stomping on the ground to startle the bright orange crabs that covered the ground, they disappeared in waves. Finally we cut through to a wide open beach with warm green sea and a rock island not too far out. A friend we had met on the bus and our hostel was in the water already. Not hesitating for a second, we all looked at one another and knew what our next move was. We all stripped (and happy to do so in the humidity), and ran full speed into the two foot waves. The water was luke warm like that of a bath, so not much for cooling off, but refreshing and fun. We soaked until lunch time, then rented bikes for cheap and rode them down the narrow dirt road to town to check out the roadside craft stands and shops. Playing around wore us out quickly as we were dripping sweat. So we stopped at a little bar/cafe Monita Bonita, and sat on the top deck with the breeze and a view of the ocean with our 2 liter bottles of water and wads of napkins used to dry our brows. It was barely dark when we rode back to our side of town, in Cocles. We stopped for dinner at a charming houselike building selling pizza. We were seated oceanside at a wooden table with an umbrella overhead, and a palm tree lit with white christmas lights. We shortly discovered that every hour is happy hour in Costa Rica, and if you get one drink, you must have two. We indulged in daiquiris, coladas and frozen lemoncello; and were all pretty inebriated after only two rounds. The pizza was wonderful and the locals were eager to make friends. We continued on our way down the dirt road, and made another side stop at a backyard porch bar called Cafe Mango. With both hands full with rum and cokes, we sat in hammocks and watched their open mic night, the hunky proprieter played lead on ukelele.

Later, in desperate need of an air conditioned room, we all upgraded to a place down the street that offered beachside apartments, we each got a bed and private bathroom, and a few paces out our door to the water. The owner, Cecilia, took us on a flashlight tour of the surrounding trees to introduce us to some sloths and monkeys. We retired that night appreciating air conditioning.

In the morning, we rode on our rickety bikes down the street to find another small streetside cafe. We sat ourselves on the porch on the edge of some beautiful hibiscus bushes and underneath the dried palm frond awning. A shy dark girl, no more than 20 years old waited on us. She was a great little hostess and a wonderful cook, she brought out a traditional latin breakfast of rice and black beans with eggs doused in hot sauce and pepper. The coffee was local Costa Rican grown, cheap, and wonderful black without any alterations. After breakfast we were already beach ready in our suits so we headed down to the same wide sandy beach to take a swim and play in the late morning waves. When we got our fill of swimming and relaxing beachside, we went back to Cecilia's to rinse off in a cool outdoor shower situated inthe hollow of a split tree. Then we were packed, said farewell to Cecilia and headed further up the street to our bungalows at La Costa de Papito. It sat at the end of a long road boardered by walkways through the trees to secluded bungalows. We checked in at the main house that included a restaurant, bar, pool table, and spa; the top floor was Papito's personal home, it was open to the natural air, the walls to the outside as spaced wooden poles. His dogs roamed the property and greeted guests while the new puppy ran freely after wild rabbits that hid under the patio.

We didn't have to walk far from the main house to our personal bungalow, the Dolphin Bungalow, which had: a bed for each of us, complete with an insect net, an outdoor porch with full size table and hammock, and mosaic tiled walkway to our own personal bathroom with vanity and shower. Every building had a 12 inch screen boarder from the ceiling so as to airate the room and circulate the cool rainforest air. It was amazing how different it was staying on one side of the street along the beach where there was always a cool breeze, no insects and no rain, to the other side which was 100% rainforest, monkeys and sloths howling and climbing from tree to tree in all hours of the day and night, and plenty of tropical birds as well as an abundance of insects and rain all throughout the night. But it was a hot, soft and cleansing rain. It was nice to even lay in the hammock on the porch and read through the storms and watch our roof become the arch of a waterfall.

With a new energy, we rode to the far end of town to a black sand beach where there was a shipwreck right off the beach where locals waved to us from the edge and dived into the water. We mostly played around in town and enjoyed the rastafarian culture, talking to people at roadside stands selling their crafts and the people walking past us with backpacks full of hash brownies and other illegal goodies, looking for buyers. Eventually it turned dark and our stomachs began to growl. On our way back to our little bungalow we passed a sign that read Happy Hour (go figure) and half price pizza. We were sold. So we sat at a table on the open sandy floored porch next to a comfy hammock. We ordered four pizzas, but they were going to take a little while so we ordered a few rounds of drinks (two each, of course). The pizza was awesome, on another level from the ones we had previously, and it was hard to believe but the drinks were stronger. Smashed, we stumbled onto our bikes and rode back to Cafe Mango where we enjoyed more rum and cokes yet before we retired in our sweet bungalow.

The next day was our long awaited adventure day where we were to be taken deep into the rainforest for a canopy tour, or more modernly known as ziplining. With the tour included a shuttle from the resort, which tossed us around through deep divits in the dirt road, by the time we got to the zipline starting point, we had already had more adventure than we had expected for the day. Wild mares walked with their colts on the road, but were unbothered by the van full of tourists that unloaded feet away. We climbed up to a treehouse where we were strapped with our gear and given instructions to prepare us for the ride through the rainforest. I had only been ziplining once earlier in the month in Hawaii, but the differences surprised me. The lines on this canopy tour were much different as we were given gloves and shown how to lean with the gloved hand behind us to push on the line to slow us instead of it being automatic as in Hawaii. They started us off with a couple slow easy lines to practice our slowing and landing without plowing into the employee at the end of the line. Soon we were wooshing through rainforests, inches from trees and what seemed to be miles off the ground. The sensation was amazing and the lines were all different. The employees had us running from line to line quickly so as to not bunch up or slow our adrenaline. They took us on loose lines and bounced us, high lines to treetop decks just to be transferred to another line, and quickly declining lines with a long runway at the end to ease us to a stop. Some lines we had to hike to, through beautiful mountainous rainforest, lush vegetation. The higher we climbed, it began drizzling...then POURING! It was that nice Costa Rican rain, but it made those lines very slick, therefore making it harder to stop as the faster we went. We had a BLAST!

That night, with our new energy, we ditched our ever de-flating rickety bikes and hoofed it in the dark to Cafe Mango. The girls took the time to primp for the first time since we arrived in Costa Rica, we put make up on our ever perspiring faces and attempted to straighten our ever frizzing hair...the works! We put on our most appealing apparel and headed down the dark dirt road. We soon came to realize that the crabs that scuttled further from the beach, including on the road, were full size. We used the flash from my camara to see in advance where we were to watch our step, lifting our knees to our chests as to touch the ground as little as possible. We didn't go all the way to Costa Rica to be eaten alive by monster crabs. By the time we made it to Cafe Mango, all the familiar staff were there having a good time. We ordered some spicy pasta and a round of mango daquiris, specialties of the hunky proprieter, Liam. We were disappointed to learn he had a girlfriend, but Selda was so much fun, we couldn't help but fall in love with her, too. Another familiar face hanging around was John, a gentleman that worked at Rocking J's. He invited us all to sit on the bar and have a picture, John suggested I put my leg on his shoulder since we were family now. Haha. They helped us call a cab as we were too inebriated to continue crab-dodging. The employees and other tourists on the ziplining tour talked about going to a bar in town called Monita Bonita. The same two story bar we saw earlier in our trip was much livelier in the evening. We endulged in a few rounds of a myriad of happy hour spirits. I started out with a screaming orgasm and a different take on the 'pura vida' coconut drink. All I can say is that the bartender at Monita Bonita was extremely generous. I personally did partake on at least 2 rounds. Needless to say we were heavily intoxicated. The lights bounced on and off as the rain continued across the street. The air was cooling off but no rain for our side by the beach. When they went out, a local ran up the spiral staircase with his guitar and led everyone in an impromptu chorus of "Everything will be alright" by Bob Marley, how suiting. Our friends from ziplining took us to an outdoor club that was empty...and then to a popular bar where we had MORE to drink. Ah the stomachs of 20 year olds. That night turned out to be a big mistake as the next morning we had planned another adventure which included snorkeling and a hike through Cahuita National Park. I was feeling awful. We paid $8 for breakfast at our bungalow, the most expensive meal in town, and it didn't stay with me long. The van ride was crazy as usual, bouncing heads against each other and the ceiling, stomachs flying, butting against other guts. By the time we reached the beach to catch the boat, I was ready to call it a day, Mat even gave me cab fare to get back to our bungalow. But as I saw the boat begin to back out into the water, I couldn't watch it leave without me, so I sloshed through the water and jumped in the boat. I was not going to let some stupid hangover force me to miss out on anything. So I puked off the side in a fashion that if we were to get lost, we could follow the strings of chunks back to shore. Just saying - it was bad. Once I was able to get off the boat I as okay, the cool water helped soothe my eratic stomach. Under the surface, there was beautiful coral, fish, and even chased a sting ray for while. We floated for hours and watched the world below and were welcomed by the serenity of the cool waves and playful wildlife. We were treated to a snack of tropical fruit and sweet bread on shore, a short swim from where we had snorkelled. The picnic table was surrounded by tall trees infested with howler monkeys, who made sure to let us know they were interested in claiming our scraps for themselves. We walked parallel to the sea, trekking norht back to where we began. It wasn't just a walk, we played with capuchin monkeys, who stole whatever loose goods they could get their sticky fingers around. But not everything we encountered would fit in the cute and cuddley category. Immediately off the side of the trail, at ankle height sat a coiled yellow snake, about 3 feet long in its entirity. Scared the living....off of every single one of us. Every step we took we saw something else amazing, beautiful views peering out the trees to the ocean, all sorts of plantlife, and the occasional critter or two. We trudged through rivers, traipsed on bridges made of 100% recycled bottles (Costa Rica's very eco-friendly) and avoided a swarming wasp nest by detouring to the beach over logs and back to the forest. Another snake made its appearance that had us all jumping up on top of picnic tables and screeching. He slithered from shrubs out to our open space right past our feet, at 7 feet long and thick and dark black, we weren't taking any chances. The guide had a good laugh, though. He was patient and took his time to point out everything he thought we would find interesting: a hummingbird nest, a beached sea cucumber, and sloths hanging invisible in the tree tops.

Later that night as we packed to leave the next morning, we arranged a personal shuttle to the airport instead of taking the public bus again, we tagged along with and English woman from Sri Lanka that was just happy to have someone help split the bill for the ride. We were all sunburned from floating face down in the ocean all day without sunscreen...so we sported our reddened backs glistening with aloe vera.

The next morning as we were waiting on our patio for the van to the airport to pick us up, I had noticed my ipod was missing (I had wanted to listen to it on the way), and had no idea where it was. I asked the front desk if anything had been turned in and described the item, but no one had seen it. I worried about it the whole way to the airport. We slept most of the way there with one bathroom break in which the driver took his time and had a meal...while we waited in the van. His musical selection was good at least, classic American rock. We screeched into the terminal drop off with minimal time to spare, we ran as fast as we could to the counter, Mat ran into an oversized fire hydrant and broke his phone, then dropped the duffle which carried our combined extras (we only wanted to check one bag) ended up dragging it across the hard concrete floor when he dropped it, and cracked a bottle of white wine...releasing the alcohol on the contents of the bag. We ended up missing our flight by a mere 2 minutes. But...rules are rules. So we hunkered down at a Holiday Inn in San Jose that had a Denny's across the parking lot. Even though we had been completely pampered in Puerto Viejo, we appreciated the sentiment of home. But the sandwich and fries we ordered were the most expensive meal, totalling to about $15 American. Having been hung up on my missing ipod, I finally remembered where I left it. The first night, in the tent of Rocking J's, under the pillow. God Bless Holiday Inn for having free local and international calls. I called Rocking J's and talked to a girl at the front desk who found it when I gave the description. She said she'd hold it and send it in the morning. I was soooo relieved. They did eventually send it to me, after an email to John at Rocking J's, he sent it back to the states at no charge. I was impressed. My ipod would've been long gone if I had lost it in the U.S.

We went to Costa Rica not knowing what we'd find, and found that the people we got to know were genuinely friendly, helpful and fun. A trip that was supposed to be a peephole into another culture turned out to be different in some ways but similar in more, and inviting. I would definitely recommend Puerto Viejo de Limon to anyone who is looking for an amazing adventure and experience. I will without a doubt go back to sleep in a tent or hammock at Rocking J's someday...maybe even pay rent for a couple of months to live the...

PURA VIDA!!!