Monteverde, Costa Rica

There is an annual fiesta festival in tonight (a couple of days ago now) in Cerro Planno, Monteverde. Some random Nicaraguan I met on the street invited me to join him and his friends in his conveniently ready and running vehicle to attend the party I hadnt yet known about at that junction. I almost got in. Trust strangers, right? Trusting strangers … with prudence 😦 unfortunately The following dthe same guy was asking me for 2 colonas to buy a serveza. I told him there is absolutely no way I am giving him colonas to buy servezas. Laughingly I asked if he was serious, but I knew he was before he could respond.

In the supermarket I ran into the 5 other quebeckers from the water fall the other day. They invited me back to their hostel, Backpackers Monteverde, for dinner. I joined ijn the 50 cents worth of pasta. At the hostel was Allen, the receptionist from La Fortuna- Arenal hostel. Good guy. we shared some beers and he told me about the annual festival. There was also a really cool Big-4 Long Island chick, a dude from cali and a few other Americans from Colorado I believe. I´m having trouble keeping track of all the people.

The local mountains{s peace and quiet was ravaged by the festivals music, food, imperials, drunken tico fights and carnivalously nauseating swing spin twirl rides. Everyone was under the lights at the festival. First was the bull “fight”, it was more of a celebration of inebriated ticos dancing around the toro. Everyone in Monteverde was in attendance. The Germans on the jeep-boat-jeep ride, cafe server, ziplining guides, hostel owner, Californians fromt the supermarket, shady Nicaraguan, out-of.this-world–beauty-Swiss chick from lunch, local rural ticos, 16 year old Americans studying in Costa, and the 3 Hollandians I would soon share a back row of a Yarus with as we cross the border into Nicaragua.

ChaChaCha and Salsa packed the dance floor. Kabobs of shrimp, pollo and steak were served as well as zeppolis, rice and beans and other Rican spins on carnival foods. The bathroom cost 50 cents, unless you ignored the attendant and just walked by him. By 11 pm I had the confidence to give him a “I know youre scamming” nod as I walked pass.

The power outed, which seems to be a common occurence here, and the true colors of the night fell upon the crowd, blanketing everyone with THE MOMENT to make a move. beers lifted, women kissed, fights broke, the sudden darkness was a catalyst to act on secret intentions. When came back on, the party went on.

The pizzeria bar was the only place open on the walk home. We replenished and continued the hike up and down the steep roads. This part of town was paved. The 40 kilometers of road leading to Monteverde was dust, rocks, stray dogs, and a walking path for the rural locals. It twisted around the mountain drop-side lined with barbed wire strung from wood stake to wood stake.

5 hours to Nicaragua. I am now at the Surfing Donkey in San Juan Del Sur. The hostel used to be an elementary schoold. Its colorful, and very hospitibile, with a big open court yarded, hammocks, a pool, a bar, a balcony viewing the mount that plummits into the boat filled water and the most adorable kitten unnamed and reffered to as Cattino.

It seems the place was put together by stoners, security desk facing the less rational way, lockers with open backs, chair under the tree that is constantly dropping bird poo. But the people are great, friendly and helpful. Its 9$s a night for a private room, bathroom and shower. 1 dollar Victorias at the bar, and a barbaque to grill. Only 2 blocks from the beach which I am on my way to now.

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