8:15am Coco Loco Lodge -- checking out, ready to go, bags packed by the door...
but oops = Clyde left an hour ago with the list of all possible rental houses I have gathered all over town off posters and bulletin boards. They were scribbled on the back of his travelocity returns policy (which, of course was 4 pages of useless scratch paper until he needed them back to change his flight due to mudslide road-closures.) (Who saw THAT coming?)
Until late yesterday, I had NO CLUE where to go when he left (can't stay here by myself) but we stumbled into this nice hostel down a nondescript (unpromising, possibly sketchy) dirt road off the "main" "highway" (both Highly Inappropriate word choices.) It's on the way out of town, heading south toward beaches and on down to little towns and then to Panama...
There are four different hotels/hostels at the end of the little dirt road so we each took two. My first one was dead empty, if you don't count numerous dogs lounging in the sun. Second was similarly quiet, similar sleeping dog and lethargic cats on every surface. I was going to give up after creeping around the garden path and through a lounge with no walls but plenty of tables and hammocks, peering over the breakfast bar into a wee galley kitchen-- say! two happy moka coffee pots look promising.
Clyde caught up with me just then, also having no luck at his two, and saw a bicycle bell nailed to a wooden post "RECEPTION" painted jauntily down it. "For service you think?" I shrugged, okay = go.
Well!
The lazing dog sprang to life, showing real dedication to his guard duties, a mom-looking woman (if your mom is possibly Dutch and wears dresses from beach vendors), came down the stairs with a dish towel in one hand from the upstairs open lounge-- books, more hammocks and a little WIFI if you stand where the railings meet (and face another hotel through the trees.)
(No, seriously. That was her answer when asked if they have internet.)
There are no other guests (!) so "shared bath" isn't so grievous really. And if I end up staying a full week (I told her my whole- Inability to Rent a House By Phone B/c I'm Afraid to Attempt Spanish- plight) the rate will drop from $15/night (really) to $13.
She is Katty and very nice and maybe German not Dutch but how would I know?
It must be after 9am because here comes Manolo from the front desk, following the concrete path system (like the canals of Venice) up to my bungalow door. He is the nicest person, friendly, generous, soft-spoken from Brazil I think but lived here for years.
Am I checking out? Do I wish to see the little apartment "#3" ?
The owner (originally from Vienna, lovely even at 6am, waiting for the school bus with her daughter where we spoke this morning while watching Clyde's van take him away from the front gate) had offered it to me for $300mo. A good deal. Kitchen and bedroom/bath, on the grounds so - safe at night with gate and guard, beautifully kept gardens and lawn, a little secret haven at the end of a rough corner of town.
I'm grateful, it seems like they don't make it public or offer it always but I tell Manolo that, maybe south of the town proper where it's quieter, might be more for me. (I'm no back-packer and no late-night club goer. There's a standard 7-night scene and everyone knows the schedule. Some bars pick up at midnight after the crowd leaves somewhere else. That may be fun once or twice but not as part of my daily life.)
I tell Manolo about going to yoga in Cocles and good things I've heard about Playa Chiquita... Well, dontcha know: He lives there. (of course you do)
And he knows people with rental houses. He'll make some calls.
>These are rentals that aren't advertised but known by your neighbors and friends and only found by word of mouth - in my experience they are Much cheaper than anything found on craigslist, obviously but also much simpler, more true to "Tico" = Costa Rican style. Not frilly, not the steam-cleaned ClubMed version of "Gosh Beautiful Jungle without Annoyances of Real Jungle!" No, these are little casitas, cottages tucked away between banana trees, no hot water, no paper in the toilets, no phone, no internet.
You live within 3 inches of FULL SCALE NATURE at all times. And that can be cool, if a little daunting in a land of things that bite, large and small (I mean the things and the bites.)
He is so kind to do this, I'm really grateful and a little humbled by such instant warmth from a man I've only spoken to - barely, shyly- maybe once about the various plants on the property, pointing at nearby trees with fat green fruits hanging off them, asking which is which and if he takes the noni juice and if natural remedies were standard in his family growing up (which is when he told me he's actually from Brazil) but did give noni to his 2 boys when they were young.
Perdon? He has two grown boys living in the city of San Jose??
It seems impossible looking at this man that he could be much out of his 20's.
Is it his clean living? Calm demeanor? Warm heart?
He is making calls for me - since I have lost my own list (but think of re-tracing my steps with a pen & paper to find them again).
It's a Great Promising Start to the Day!
oh -but- fret/worry: am I leaving here then or not?
is it rude to check out while he does favors for me?
should I stay on one more night @ double the price, out of obligation?
and disappoint Katty whom I told to expect me today at Vista Verde?
I'm Awful at this.
Decisions without data fill me with worry and guilt.
Either way it's rude to someone, isn't it?
And now Manolo has called people, he's got the run-down.... my first choice was from a bright pink photocopy stuck on walls in several locations but she was hard to reach and we need to set an appointment, because of her work.
(I'm already nervous at the word "appointment". It sounds officious.)
And there's another place they're expecting me.
And near him, up a dirt road on the "mountain" above the beach, there's a tiny cabina for only $200 but it has no kitchen, no frig. He can draw me a map.
(and apparently, around here, if someone is not "on the phone line" you just show up at their home)
So. Find a bike, go out of town a couple of miles, find houses in a land with no street names, and introduce myself to total strangers. Guess I didn't think this part through.
Suddenly I'm over-whelmed by the "Right Thing to Do" hotel part and the sudden appointments and the renting a bike and meeting so many strangers
...look, I can't commit to anything right this moment while he's standing there, looking at me.
I can't even THINK clearly.
Manolo tells me with sincerity in his slow gently Brazilian accented english,
"You'd better relaaax, these is the Caree-bbean."
Brother, you have no idea.
But I take the advice = time out, calm down, no more thinking for a bit.
One: agree to stay another night. That's settled.
Tomorrow I will show up and make apologies to Katty.
Next: go back to CariBeans : organic, fair-trade Coffee & Chocolate. (Right? Do I even need to expand on such a name? properly done cappuccino, super dark local chocolates and ice-cream in ridiculous "I am now in the Tropics" flavors. If they just called the cafe: Heaven, it wouldn't be an exaggeration.)
11am. phew. sit. sip. think. regroup.
Manolo has been amazing* making lots of phone calls, offering local advice.
The room #3 is fine: clean, new construction, little house at the very back of the property.
I followed him out there across a warren of intersecting concrete raised paths, past more noni trees and prickly pear cactus (ooh, for trying out recipes). Really nice but it IS a hotel room.
Will I feel stuck at the ugly side of town if I really want a more open, natural neighborhood?
is it too far from 1. yoga down in cocles, 2. beaches down in cocles and chiquita, 3. wifi turns off at 9pm when the office closes (Clyde & I learned one night.)
The locals I've talked to all seem to live down in Cocles and beyond.
There's a place in a hostel for 250, shared kitchen but it's north of town, on Playa Negra (where no one seems to swim.) And maybe sketchy: Hotel LeBlanc. It may be fine but it's associated with a craiglist ad poster that is annoying in the extreme: Dominic.
(3 or 4 rental ads a day for MONTHS. Yes, I have been reading rental ads for months, learning just such patterns, prices, who's who, which houses are often empty, and questioning: Why the heavy turnover? RESEARCH, baby.)
but oops = Clyde left an hour ago with the list of all possible rental houses I have gathered all over town off posters and bulletin boards. They were scribbled on the back of his travelocity returns policy (which, of course was 4 pages of useless scratch paper until he needed them back to change his flight due to mudslide road-closures.) (Who saw THAT coming?)
Until late yesterday, I had NO CLUE where to go when he left (can't stay here by myself) but we stumbled into this nice hostel down a nondescript (unpromising, possibly sketchy) dirt road off the "main" "highway" (both Highly Inappropriate word choices.) It's on the way out of town, heading south toward beaches and on down to little towns and then to Panama...
There are four different hotels/hostels at the end of the little dirt road so we each took two. My first one was dead empty, if you don't count numerous dogs lounging in the sun. Second was similarly quiet, similar sleeping dog and lethargic cats on every surface. I was going to give up after creeping around the garden path and through a lounge with no walls but plenty of tables and hammocks, peering over the breakfast bar into a wee galley kitchen-- say! two happy moka coffee pots look promising.
Clyde caught up with me just then, also having no luck at his two, and saw a bicycle bell nailed to a wooden post "RECEPTION" painted jauntily down it. "For service you think?" I shrugged, okay = go.
Well!
The lazing dog sprang to life, showing real dedication to his guard duties, a mom-looking woman (if your mom is possibly Dutch and wears dresses from beach vendors), came down the stairs with a dish towel in one hand from the upstairs open lounge-- books, more hammocks and a little WIFI if you stand where the railings meet (and face another hotel through the trees.)
(No, seriously. That was her answer when asked if they have internet.)
There are no other guests (!) so "shared bath" isn't so grievous really. And if I end up staying a full week (I told her my whole- Inability to Rent a House By Phone B/c I'm Afraid to Attempt Spanish- plight) the rate will drop from $15/night (really) to $13.
She is Katty and very nice and maybe German not Dutch but how would I know?
It must be after 9am because here comes Manolo from the front desk, following the concrete path system (like the canals of Venice) up to my bungalow door. He is the nicest person, friendly, generous, soft-spoken from Brazil I think but lived here for years.
Am I checking out? Do I wish to see the little apartment "#3" ?
The owner (originally from Vienna, lovely even at 6am, waiting for the school bus with her daughter where we spoke this morning while watching Clyde's van take him away from the front gate) had offered it to me for $300mo. A good deal. Kitchen and bedroom/bath, on the grounds so - safe at night with gate and guard, beautifully kept gardens and lawn, a little secret haven at the end of a rough corner of town.
I'm grateful, it seems like they don't make it public or offer it always but I tell Manolo that, maybe south of the town proper where it's quieter, might be more for me. (I'm no back-packer and no late-night club goer. There's a standard 7-night scene and everyone knows the schedule. Some bars pick up at midnight after the crowd leaves somewhere else. That may be fun once or twice but not as part of my daily life.)
I tell Manolo about going to yoga in Cocles and good things I've heard about Playa Chiquita... Well, dontcha know: He lives there. (of course you do)
And he knows people with rental houses. He'll make some calls.
>These are rentals that aren't advertised but known by your neighbors and friends and only found by word of mouth - in my experience they are Much cheaper than anything found on craigslist, obviously but also much simpler, more true to "Tico" = Costa Rican style. Not frilly, not the steam-cleaned ClubMed version of "Gosh Beautiful Jungle without Annoyances of Real Jungle!" No, these are little casitas, cottages tucked away between banana trees, no hot water, no paper in the toilets, no phone, no internet.
You live within 3 inches of FULL SCALE NATURE at all times. And that can be cool, if a little daunting in a land of things that bite, large and small (I mean the things and the bites.)
He is so kind to do this, I'm really grateful and a little humbled by such instant warmth from a man I've only spoken to - barely, shyly- maybe once about the various plants on the property, pointing at nearby trees with fat green fruits hanging off them, asking which is which and if he takes the noni juice and if natural remedies were standard in his family growing up (which is when he told me he's actually from Brazil) but did give noni to his 2 boys when they were young.
Perdon? He has two grown boys living in the city of San Jose??
It seems impossible looking at this man that he could be much out of his 20's.
Is it his clean living? Calm demeanor? Warm heart?
He is making calls for me - since I have lost my own list (but think of re-tracing my steps with a pen & paper to find them again).
It's a Great Promising Start to the Day!
oh -but- fret/worry: am I leaving here then or not?
is it rude to check out while he does favors for me?
should I stay on one more night @ double the price, out of obligation?
and disappoint Katty whom I told to expect me today at Vista Verde?
I'm Awful at this.
Decisions without data fill me with worry and guilt.
Either way it's rude to someone, isn't it?
And now Manolo has called people, he's got the run-down.... my first choice was from a bright pink photocopy stuck on walls in several locations but she was hard to reach and we need to set an appointment, because of her work.
(I'm already nervous at the word "appointment". It sounds officious.)
And there's another place they're expecting me.
And near him, up a dirt road on the "mountain" above the beach, there's a tiny cabina for only $200 but it has no kitchen, no frig. He can draw me a map.
(and apparently, around here, if someone is not "on the phone line" you just show up at their home)
So. Find a bike, go out of town a couple of miles, find houses in a land with no street names, and introduce myself to total strangers. Guess I didn't think this part through.
Suddenly I'm over-whelmed by the "Right Thing to Do" hotel part and the sudden appointments and the renting a bike and meeting so many strangers
...look, I can't commit to anything right this moment while he's standing there, looking at me.
I can't even THINK clearly.
Manolo tells me with sincerity in his slow gently Brazilian accented english,
"You'd better relaaax, these is the Caree-bbean."
Brother, you have no idea.
But I take the advice = time out, calm down, no more thinking for a bit.
One: agree to stay another night. That's settled.
Tomorrow I will show up and make apologies to Katty.
Next: go back to CariBeans : organic, fair-trade Coffee & Chocolate. (Right? Do I even need to expand on such a name? properly done cappuccino, super dark local chocolates and ice-cream in ridiculous "I am now in the Tropics" flavors. If they just called the cafe: Heaven, it wouldn't be an exaggeration.)
11am. phew. sit. sip. think. regroup.
Manolo has been amazing* making lots of phone calls, offering local advice.
The room #3 is fine: clean, new construction, little house at the very back of the property.
I followed him out there across a warren of intersecting concrete raised paths, past more noni trees and prickly pear cactus (ooh, for trying out recipes). Really nice but it IS a hotel room.
Will I feel stuck at the ugly side of town if I really want a more open, natural neighborhood?
is it too far from 1. yoga down in cocles, 2. beaches down in cocles and chiquita, 3. wifi turns off at 9pm when the office closes (Clyde & I learned one night.)
The locals I've talked to all seem to live down in Cocles and beyond.
There's a place in a hostel for 250, shared kitchen but it's north of town, on Playa Negra (where no one seems to swim.) And maybe sketchy: Hotel LeBlanc. It may be fine but it's associated with a craiglist ad poster that is annoying in the extreme: Dominic.
(3 or 4 rental ads a day for MONTHS. Yes, I have been reading rental ads for months, learning just such patterns, prices, who's who, which houses are often empty, and questioning: Why the heavy turnover? RESEARCH, baby.)
CariBeans is on Playa Negra too and has tables across the street, between palm trees at the top of the beach. There's a great rusting barge run aground right in the middle of the view, just a few feet into the water. I think it's rather famous for Puerto Viejo, post-cards and travel books have its photo. It has been there long enough to collect greenery on it's surface, full-scale growth is going on up there: grasses and small trees... it's cool looking. There is a pole running down from the end near the beach into the water so you can walk up and use the barge for fishing, which people do all day long.
Okay, I should call those rentals back and set times.
Rent a bike and/or price a used bike.
Is Chiquita far enough to take the MEPE (public) bus?
should I go look at LeBlanc at least?
I should swim at Playa Negra today and see if I could live up here before ruling it out.
>I don't want to cave to fear of being homeless, take the first thing just
for stability -- AGAIN-- and end up in another mediocre rental situation,
just like every other miss-step I've taken and settled for. I'm tired of
gloomy, inappropriate rentals that you'd never call "home"; a person should feel good to get home, should feel relaxed there, comfortable, at ease. Not in any luxurious, spoiled way. I just want to be free from fear & dread when I'm on my own sofa (alcohol-fueled domestic drama from landlords and roommates, police visits, bank forclosures, eviction notices) and that is such a small request, isn't it? It always struck me as sad, to have such a tiny, basic ambition and knowing there are people, whole communities that live like that their whole lives - having only the most humble wishes and STILL being unfulfilled.
So, ask yourself: in a perfect world, what would I want?
a simple little house alone, near to swimming and yoga, a bike, fresh fruit every day, and a good program of Spanish study.
(Seriously, no mansion, no bijoux, no Laboutins. Just sweet, calm quiet.)
It's not quite noon and all I want to do is sleeep.
No more thinking and weighing and fretting. Just leave it.
(can I do that? would a nap be shockingly indulgent? it is the Caribbean after all, not DC.)
a simple little house alone, near to swimming and yoga, a bike, fresh fruit every day, and a good program of Spanish study.
(Seriously, no mansion, no bijoux, no Laboutins. Just sweet, calm quiet.)
It's not quite noon and all I want to do is sleeep.
No more thinking and weighing and fretting. Just leave it.
(can I do that? would a nap be shockingly indulgent? it is the Caribbean after all, not DC.)
I was wide awake at 3 a.m. and it is costing me now but it was worth it at the time.
So, these two guys stroll out in the moonlight and catch crabs (amazing, given how speedy they are.) One raccoon sat down right in front of my hiding place and, using his little black hands, ate that blue crab like a Baltimore native. I just stared. It was excellent.
Our bungalow has a tiny porch with a thick weave hammock where I crept out and got in, pulling up the sides around me, it was so chilly & damp. Not long after, raccoon-like critters came out of the tree line behind our row of bungalows... toward the ditch (that doesn't do it justice= stream?) where the steep dirt sides are covered with holes of all sizes, dug out by blue land crabs. The stream runs all through the property and the top edges are lined with flowering trees.
So, these two guys stroll out in the moonlight and catch crabs (amazing, given how speedy they are.) One raccoon sat down right in front of my hiding place and, using his little black hands, ate that blue crab like a Baltimore native. I just stared. It was excellent.
From 3am to 5am, I stayed out there and watched the garden change.
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