Risking our lives to cross the border.

not our picture but i was too scared to dig my camera out

Cabinas Safari’s motto is your home away from home and it was. Although our time in Cahuita had been stressful, the awesome folks not just at the hotel but throughout town had made it one of my favourite places. However, today we were moving on to Panama.

We were close to the border but because our destination was Bocas del Toro, a group of island off the shore, it was not going to be easy to get there. But thanks to an awesome website I found and emails from a friend of a friend living on one of the islands, I had a clue how to do it and what to it expect. There was one comment from the friend that did puzzle me. “Be forewarned about the bridge crossing b/w CR and Panama,” she wrote with no further details. Curious and curiouser. I guess we’d find out soon enough.

At the bus station we used the bank machine to take out American dollars which are the local currency in Panama (although they still call them Balboas, handy). Then hoped on the bus to Sixiola. The ride was relatively short and the town was just as small. Just a couple of stores beside the river. We walked to the Costa Rican border control where we were stamped out of the country by a border guard who didn’t even look up at us. The next step was the Panamanian border control on the other side of the river. Getting there involved crossing the bridge and once we stepped on it, I understood the reason for the cryptic email message. The bridge was an old railway bridge, meaning that it wasn’t made for foot traffic. Instead there were wooden slats with huge gaps between them revealing the river below. At some point in time, wooden planks had been lain down on top of them to make it easier to walk but they were half rotten and no longer nailed down. On the Panamanian side I was surprised to see heavy trucks lined up waiting to drive across. I know I wouldn’t want to drive across it. I didn’t even want to walk across it. Walking without packs would have been a challenge in itself but with packs our centre of gravities were thrown off and we walked very slowly and very deliberately and made it across in one piece.

Now we had to deal with immigration and that proved as challenging as the bridge. The woman at the office wouldn’t let us in until we had proof of exit from Panama. Luckily, there was a bus ticket office across the street. It was just a shack, and I’m not even sure there were buses but they sold us two tickets for $20 to prove we were leaving Panama. Part of me can’t help but wonder if this is some scam run by the immigration lady but I swear I’m not a conspiracy theorist. We headed back to the lady expecting to be stamped in. But not yet. Next she sent us to another office to buy our official tourist card for $5. Only once we had all that did she stamp our passports and welcome us to Panama.

Once that was done, the money changers swarmed us. We changed our remaining colones to dollars and the rate wasn’t too bad. One of the touts then tried to shuttle us onto the $15 “bus”. It was clearly marked turismo and is a minivan. I told him I wanted the public bus and he again tried to convince me his tourist van was the public bus. I spotted the real bus around the corner and told him that’s where we were going. He then changed tactics. He called out “it’s not going where you want to” so I pointed to the sign in the bus’ window that said it was. “It’s too dangerous” he called out. We ignored him and began boarding. “You’ll have to take a taxi to change buses. It’s too much money.” He was still shouting after us as the bus drove away. We paid 75 cents for the first half of the journey to Changuinola where we changed buses. And then it was another $1.50 for the second half to Almirante. $15 my ass.

Once we were in Almirante the drive signaled to us that we were at our stop which is the docks. We follow the rest of the passengers (all locals a good sign) to the water taxi office. The boat ride costs just $4 each which surprises me considering our other boat trips had been so much more. I soon realized why. Bocas wasn’t some far away island chain. It was a group of islands just thirty minutes from town or 10 minutes from land. It was also bigger than I imagined it. Yet once we stepped off the boat it was exactly what I imagined and feared. It was very built up with cars and roads which also manages to give it a run down and seedy feeling somewhere between Belize and Utila. Of course coming from the peace and quiet of Cahuita I was bound to be disappointed.

In such a touristy place, there were also a lot of touts, one of whom begins following us as soon as we step on the dock. He tries to get us to his hostel but armed with reco’s from the friend of a friend who lives in town I tried to shake him. He still followed us to the place and as luck would have it, it was closed for renovations. While Adrian and I try to decide where to go next, ignoring the touts pitch of his “friends” place, we are rescued by a woman. She was the maid at the hostel we’re standing in front of but now she was working around the corner and she says they have room. We follow her. The Estrella de Bocas hotel (yup a hotel not a hostel) looks really nice. It was $25, has a private bath and a tv. With that last point, Adrian was already unpacking. I left the tout as he asked the owner for a commission but closed the door before I could find out if he succeeded.

When we left to the hotel to explore the town, I expected the tout to still be there. Luckily he was gone. But our trip around town took just 30 minutes and was still disappointing. The clouds had rolled in casting a grey pall over the town and the line ups of hotels, and tourist greasy spoons are a bit depressing. Since we didn’t need dinner (we still had lots of pizza left over from the night before), we popped into a dive centre. Thanks to a relationship with our schools in Utila we would get a 10% discount on our dives. Sounds like a plan. I told the guy we’d be back in tomorrow to book something once my stomach bug has cleared. He said he understood as he was recovering too. Oh great, the virus was here too.

That leaves only bars left to check out and since I still couldn’t drink we decided to pass. It was back to the hotel to chill out in front of the tv. After our death-defying walk across the border and yesterday’s trip to the hospital, I think we deserved it.

Calling in sick.

Looking at the date on this post you may be thinking that you’ve missed a day here. Well actually four days to be exact. But you’re not – I am. I didn’t expect to miss those days. In fact when we woke up Saturday morning, we started to plan what to do. Another day trip to a indigenous chocolate farm or perhaps to the other beach. But almost as soon as those words came out of my mouth, I was rushing to the washroom where I was holed up off and on for the next four days (I’ll spare you details). At first I thought it was food poisoning and blamed the shrimp dish I’d had the night before. But after 12 hours, I still couldn’t hold water down. I was worried. Adrian was worried. And the owner of the little hotel was worried. So worried that he sent Adrian off to the pharmacy to get me some medication. The rehydration salts, keg of gaterade and horse pills he brought back stayed down for a bit. But that night was still rather unpleasant.

I’ve been struck suddenly before by these lovely stomach upsets on the road. Once in Tunisia and the other time in Gambia. And as violent and horrible as they are, I remember them clearing up in 24 hours. So the next morning, I assumed I was better. I had some bananas and crackers while Adrian went out for breakfast and to check out the music festival going on the park. When he returned I told him I felt well enough to go out. So we headed to the other beach. We had to walk quite a way down it to get to the green flags. Within 5 minutes of being out there, I realized perhaps I wasn’t well. While Adrian played in and got pummeled by the huge waves, I dug a small whole in the sand and promptly deposited those bananas and crackers in it. (ew gross, but it was a loooooooong walk back to the entrance of the national park so please forgive me). I tried to signal to Adrian it was time for me to leave, but he had lost his sunglasses in the last wave and was blind and too busy looking for them. Finally I got his attention and we went back to the hotel.

I wasn’t sure if my stomach was now off because I’d basically eaten nothing in three days or the bug. I thought I’d try some soup. But there was none on the menus nearby but the nicest man in the world (at the restaurant next to the hotel) let Adrian warm up a tin of soup for me. I tried to eat it but just the smell turned me off. So I went to bed at 6pm and slept for 12 hours.

The next day, I was still nauseous but able to hold down a banana milkshake and some toast. I was so optimistic I began making plans for us to get the heck out of lovely Cahuita. Of course that night it was back to abnormal. Very abnormal. I knew I was really sick but the kind people of Cahuita soon came to my rescue.

That morning the hotel owner told Adrian to take me to the clinic in the next town and even arranged a cab to come pick us up. The driver didn’t speak English and realized that we didn’t speak much Spanish. So when we got to the clinic (essentially a tiny hospital), he stood in line, talked to the admitting desk and nurse, and filled out the forms for us. He waited for an hour until I told him it was okay to leave. He said he’d come back in three hours to pick us up. After puking a few more times, I finally saw the doctor who thankfully spoke perfect English. She immediately sent me to get hooked up to an IV because I was badly dehydrated. But the good news is that it was just a really bad stomach bug made worse by the drugs the pharmacy gave Adrian.

When I looked around the hospital ward, I noticed that everyone else was in the same state and recognized the wife of the owner of the internet café in an adjacent bed. Apparently, this bad bug was going around the area. The IV also contained a heavy duty anti-nausea drug that knocks me out for the next four hours. When I woke up I felt better but a bit dead to the world. The super nice taxi driver had come back and Adrian paid him for his time and told him we’d call him when we were done. I had to get another IV and then it was time to settle the bill. As we paid the $40 for 6 hours of hospital care, I was also handed a baggie full of free drugs (photo above) to take for the next 8 days. I have to say that was the best $40 we’ve spent on the trip.

Once back in Cahuita both the hotel owner, the internet café guy and the restaurant owner asked how I was doing. They were all concerned and are relieved to hear that I feel like a new person. And it was true, I was still nauseous but I wasn’t throwing up, so we went out for the first meal I’ve had and held down in the last 4 days. I couldn’t eat much but I felt like my health had finally turned. Now I was looking forward to moving out. Cahuita was the best place I could have possibly gotten sick in but I thought a change of scenery and country would help as much as the drugs had.

Sloth – the cutest of the seven deadly sins.

Cahuita was cheap (for Costa Rica) so we were in no hurry to do or see everything. So we took a day off. Well it was a day off from enjoying the beach and doing fun things like laundry and getting Adrian a haircut. The barber was a teenager named Blin Blin, not to be confused with Bling Bing, he told us. At $8 it wasn’t much of deal but it was needed. Blin Blin tried to improve his profit margin by trying to sell us some dope. He didn’t make any money off us but that appeared to be his main source of income. More people stopped by for dope than they did for a haircut. Back at the hostel, I worked on the blog and looked into some stuff about Panama while Adrian spent the day hanging in the café next door watching the soccer. It was a beautiful day so there was some guilt associated with doing nothing but it was worth it. And the perfect day ended with good food at an Argentinian restaurant (run by a couple from Quebec) and a phone call home with even better news.

Of course, the next morning the sun was replaced by grey clouds and pouring rain. Oops perhaps we should have done something yesterday. But a quick look at the weather satellite showed the clouds clearing in the next couple of hours. So we had a lazy breakfast and let the guy at the desk know that we were staying a few more days. In keeping with our sloth theme we decided to head to the sloth sanctuary. Plus my sister is obsessed with sloths and I figured some pictures of them would make her happy. There were tours advertised around town at $40 per person . But we decided to go on our own and save ourselves some cash – you know me, always looking for a better price.

The rain stopped at noon and we headed to the bus station to catch a bus back out on the highway. We had seen the sanctuary on our way into Cahuita from Limon however not knowing the word for sloth made it nearly impossible to buy our tickets. Refugio? Sanctuario? Animales? I went through my list of words. Finally the ticket guy got the gist of what I was asking, said something I didn’t quite catch and sold us two tickets for less than a dollar – a much better price. Soon the bus arrived and I repeated my list of words to the ayudante trying to indicate where we wanted to get off. He immediately knew what I meant and told the driver where we were going.

The bus ride would have taken about 20 minutes but the police stopped the bus at a checkpoint. An officer boarded the bus and began checking the id, and baggage of everyone on board. It was the most thorough checkpoint we’d been through until the guy apparently got bored and stopped after checking Adrian’s passport. Once we got going again, it wasn’t too long until the bus driver called out Aviaros del Caribe a few times. It wasn’t until he motioned to us that I realized that’s what the sanctuary was called.

Now it was time to arrange a tour. The woman at the desk seemed a bit confused where we had come from. I guess most people come on a tour or by car and not by the public bus. She offered us a guided tour for $25 each. Ouch, but it did include a canoe trip through the canals, video as well as a visit with the sloths. The canoe tour was a mini version of our time in Tortuguero so Adrian and I had to feign interest as the boatman pointed out birds, lizards, crabs and monkeys. He stopped for a moment and asked if could have a minute. Adrian and I thought he was taking a bathroom break but he came back with a big bunch of tropical flowers for me. How sweet.

Back to shore we were met by a young American guy who took us on the sloth part of our guided tour. I wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or trying to be funny and sarcastic - probably a combination of both. But all that was forgotten when he first took us to see the baby sloths. There were 10+ and it was feeding time. A couple of volunteers were feeding the little ones by hand – formula for the youngest and fruits, veg and dog food for the slightly older ones. Some could barely lift there heads up off the table as they shoveled the food into their mouths. It was sickenly adorable.

The sanctuary had both two and three fingered sloths which are completely different animals but they’re both super cute. Most of the sloths were orphaned when their mothers were run over by a car trying to cross the highway. Or abandoned when the mother gave birth to more than one at a time. At the sanctuary, they did their best to try to teach the sloths how to live in the wild but it was almost impossible to reintroduce them into the wild. So their future was a spoiled sloth filled one (sorry more puns) here at the Aviaros del Caribe.

Then we were introduced to Buttercup (photo above). At 17 years old she was the oldest sloth in the facility and it’s with her that the sanctuary started. When she was just a baby, local kids brought her to the family who were known for taking in and rehabilitating other local animals. As the family researched how to take care of sloths, they became taken up with their plight. And of course they began adopting more and more. But Buttercup was their baby and equally attached to the owners. Our guide was the grandson of the owners and had grown up with Buttercup who kept reaching out to him to be picked up. More super cuteness.

Next we watched the video on the sloth and the centre. It was super cheesy involving a guy with a British accent singing a song about the sloth ballet. No it was worse than I’ve made it sound. But it also had lots of information on sloths and the mission of the sanctuary which was a good primer for our visit to the adult enclosure. There were another 6 adult sloths here which meant 6 times more cuteness. Adrian distracted our guide by talking about the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. He was convinced that it was sloths not dolphins that were the real intellects of the planet. And considering they’d convinced this family to house and feed them for the last two decades, maybe he was right.

We said goodbye to the staff and the sloths and got to the highway just in time to catch the bus back. Good thing since it only comes every hour. And back in Cahuita, we applied all our newfound sloth techniques to do nothing for the rest of the day before heading to a nearby restaurant for their 2-4-1 cocktails. Margaritas were followed by piña coladas, by monkey madness by another unnecessary round of pinã coladas. Tomorrow, we promised, we’d get out and explore a bit more.

Getting paradise all to ourselves.

Cahuita. Be still my beating heart. Within seconds of getting off the bus, I felt comfortable for the first time since arriving in Costa Rica. Although, our bed the night before hadn’t been incredibly comfortable. Taunted by our first choice, Cabinas Safari, across the street, we decided to splurge and move – provided they had room. The guy at the desk was cleaning the rooms so he told us to come back after breakfast. We went next door to get something to eat from the nicest man ever. We shoveled it down, anxious to get settled into new and comfier digs before everyone else filled up the rooms. The guy laughed at our quick return but had just finished cleaning our room. We checked it out and it was great. They had hot water and real mattresses. For $20 Cabinas Palmer was fine but Cabinas Safari was twice as nice for the same price. Now I was really in love with Cahuita. It felt a bit weird moving our stuff just across the street especially with the owner watching us. But Palmer didn’t seem to mind. I think he was now making his money from the internet business and that’s why he hadn’t upgraded his cabinas.

Once settled into our new room, we decided to head out to the beach. It was sunny and hot but we knew that by the afternoon that would change so we had to take advantage of the sun while we could. Luckily the beach was just a short walk east or west. We opted to go west to the black sand beach of Playa Negra, stopping along the way for refreshments and snacks. After a 15 minute walk we arrived at the beach. Unlike Tamarindo, we had the entire 2km beach all to ourselves, oh except for the workman catching some zzz’s in the shade. We found a palm tree to sit under and set up our towels. Then we spent the next three hours hopping in and out of the crystal clear water and under the blue sky, until the clouds rolled in and the sand flies came out in swarms. It was time to leave our little bit of paradise .

As we walked back to town, it began to spit and by the time we got to the hotel it was pouring. It hadn’t let up by the evening. But with a restaurant next door we got something to eat without getting wet. And it gave us a chance to talk to the nice man who ran it. He filled Adrian in on the latest Costa Rican soccer news and they made a date to watch the Brazil vs. USA game tomorrow. Despite the rain and the soccer talk, Cahuita was still paradise.

Early mornings are for the birds.

If you’ve ever had the pleasure, ahem, of trying to deal with me before 11am, you know I’m not a morning person. So you can imagine how I was on this the second day in a row of getting up at 5am. My ‘super’ mood was compounded by the shampoo explosion I discovered in my bag. Thankfully Adrian came to the rescue and washed everything and packed up. Probably out of fear more than anything (no, really, I am that miserable in the morning). After our breakfast of eggs, rice and beans, we headed off with our bags to meet Fran, Eddie and the boat. We were off for another birdwatching tour. Oh yay (yes that was sarcasm). Actually, the tour was better than the first one. Not only was the boat trip an hour shorter. But we also had binoculars and a bird chart this time so we could actually see what was being pointed out to us. And the route was more picturesque as we passed by the misty peak of an old volcano. This time we managed to see caymens, as well as sloths and birds and a troupe of capuchin monkeys jumping through the trees chasing a howler monkey or two. That was pretty cool, although impossible to photograph so you’ll just have to trust me. The closest we came to an animal was a bunch of river turtles (photo above) who swam right up to me in the boat. I felt like the turtle whisperer but made sure to keep my fingers far from the top of the water in case they liked to bite.

Once we were back in Moin, it was time to settle up our bill. We had to pay with a combination of cash and travelers cheques, reminding me just how over budget the tour was. Because we weren’t going back to San Jose, Fran did knock $40 off the total but it still hurt. We’d have to scrimp at our next stop to try and make up the huge deficit. But first we had to catch a taxi to Limon. I asked the driver how much and for a refreshing change, he put on the metre. He dropped us off at the bus station – wait bus station is a strong word – the cab driver dropped us off at the bus office. And once again we had a pleasant surprise, as the bus fare was only $3 for both of us. Maybe we will recoup our costs after all.

The bus was comfy and the ride along the Caribbean coast was quick. The sea wasn’t the azure colour of Mexico or Cuba due to the grey, almost black, sand but the sky was blue and there was a nice breeze. And soon we were in Cahuita, a small town 2 hours from the Panamanian border. It was another pleasant surprise. Unlike the rest of Costa Rica, it was chilled and laid back and for the first time we saw more locals than tourists. We walked to the middle of town and began our search for a room. Our first choice was booked so we started walking around town before coming full circle and ending up across the street from the first place. The room was basic with a cold shower and a bed with foam mattress but they had wifi and it was only $20.

With all that out of the way, my priority was calling home. With the wifi and no phone offices in view, I decided to finally join the modern era and download Skype. Then of course I felt stupid for not doing it earlier. It was easy and cheap. And it worked. I finally talked to my mom and found out the news was a bit better, not great, but better. At least we had talked which made us both feel good. I started out as grumpy guts but ended up a happy camper.