I wake up excited to go to breakfast with Chantelle and Carlie. I throw on my clothes from yesterday, I can shower later, and I scoot over to the breakfast place. I get lost in the hotel - having the bearings of a magic eight ball - and go to ask the way at reception. Their instructions are good and I arrive at a stunning buffet which will easily set me up for the day: Succulent fruit and freshly cooked omelettes quickly adorn my large plate and I decide to stay here until they remove me by force ;)
At the drinks area I see hot chocolate but no hot milk so I decide on a mocha... Mmmm. I see no spoons over by the coffee though and I have only collected a fork and so I give it a ago retriving the fine brown powder using a fork. The coffee table is located right next to a dining table with a green cloth where an American gentleman is having what looks like a super healthy breakfast considering the options.
"Have you considered using a spoon?" he enquirers and I realise simultaneously that I am being watched and that I look like a idiot ;) I consider defending my mental capabilities with "I have a PhD in physics ya know?!" and realise that would only add fuel to the whole clever people have limited common sense theory, and so I decide to be honest and reveal my inner thoughts:
"Ok so here is what I was thinking..." I say, fully focused on my culinary equipment, "...to get a spoon, I have to go back up the stairs and my legs are tired, so I figured the powder might be moist enough to clump and thus stay on the fork. It is in fact very fine and so this plan has truly failed! However my backup plan was to do this..."
I lift the pot and tip a steady stream of the fine brown powder into my coffee creating a whisp of cocoa dust to delicately curl upwards towards my face... So much powder enters my drink that it is probably closer to hot chocolate than coffee now.
I look up grinning, internally pleased at my resourcefulness despite my now intensely chocolatey drink, and see the smiling gentleman sitting holding out a teaspoon.
"Ah!" I laugh and blush, embarrassed that I had been so engrossed in my self-defined challenge that I hadn't noticed him offer the solution. "Thanks!" I say. "No problem, you clearly got the job done there" said the gentleman kindly smiling the patient smile that I have seen before on parents watching toddlers figure out which wooden block fits in which toy space. Hehe I decide I am happy with by non-conventional inefficient but comical ways ;)
Chantelle and Carlie arrive and join me at breakfast. It is great to see them. They are both such warm and caring people. I see their similarities and differences too and there is such a lot to respect about these ladies.
The primary thing I am thinking about them this morning is their patience and acceptance. They exude a relaxed acceptance of the moment around them and their place with in it. This makes me feel very comfortable with them. It's like being around people who are competant at their jobs, it makes you relax. These beautiful ladies are competant at just being and their effort on me is to bring out my inner happy child self: boucey, joyfilled and wanting to tell them everything I have recently seen and done and to hear what they think.
After eating, it's time to leave and Chantelle reports we only have a few minutes before they need to go. My heart sinks a little and while I do feel super happy to have met them I do now feel sad that they are leaving. I give them each a big hug and I promise myself I won't cry over breakfast - I can be quite an emotional bunny so this proves a little challenging. Then they leave, and I am once again a solo traveller after so many adventures, trials, celebrations and emotions with so many incredible people.
I have one day in San José before I leave for the states. Today I will do some exploring, limited shopping (I have so little luggage space) and some blog writing. The blog for me is as much a cathartic emotion processing tool as it is my travel news and updates. I love that people are reading it and I'm excited always to hear people's thoughts and comments but I also simply love remembering and reliving the colourful moments that make up my wonderful adventure.
Exploring San José
After breakfast I chill in my room for a while messaging people and then I shower. I have purchased conditioner and I indulge myself with un-rationed shampoo and conditioner. My hair feels amazing, everything that the bottle promise and more and I feel like a new and slightly less singed woman.
I pack up my stuff as I have to swap rooms today and I love my things to a room conveniently close to the breakfast buffet. How did they know?? ;) Then I leave with my rucksack on my back ready to explore and learn about the vibe in San José. I have a map of the area from the hotel and have asked the dude on reception for recommendations :)
I head out and walk towards the town. San José feels busy with lots of people doing very much their own thing. I do not detect as much of a flow as other big cities. I walk past a guy on the corner selling gum, followed by a dude selling tv remotes. Their wares are confusingly specific and I wonder if this is not a city of del-boys, it has a feeling of the London east side where the buildings are run down but where there is no compensatory areas of obviously money amid the ruins. Things in San José seem be functional but not necessarily comfortable and certainly not clean.
I do not have a feeling for the safety or security of the place. I have been told that the hotel is in a safe area and my walk to the market feels ok but I am on guard and very aware too. I have nothing openly available to pickpockets except my map and i can cope without that ;)
My first walk takes me to the National Park which is a reasonably nice bit of the area with green bits and some grass. The shade provides a nice place to stop and take in the surroundings.
This is a monument to the war heroes of the battle of 1856. I don't know much about that battle other than it has a monument.
I sit for a while and decide to go to the cafe recommended by Chantelle last night. On route I see this sign with a dude flipping me the V-sign. I doubt it means what it does in England but I find it funny all the same.
My travels take me past the hospital, a big old looking yellow building, where a lot of people wait by the wall for news of their friends and relatives. On guy paces up and down in front of the hospital on the phone and as I get close I see he is a wearing a T-shirt of the stay calm variety that reads "Stay Calm! I'm gonna be a dad soon!". I wonder if this is the reason he is at the hospital now, another little tica or tico about to come into the world. :)
I am close to the cafe now as a man walks past me carrying a big tray of eggs like a silver service tray.
This is
Cafe Trigo Miel a lovely cafe so popular that there is one table with one chair left. Perfect for the solo travelling blogger to sit down at for a refreshing smoothie and bizarre not entirely pleasant piece of cheesey corn bread which I mostly leave. The smoothie is delicious and they speak English very well haha. I remember how I must learn Spanish because this is embarrassing. ;)
Banking drama in San José
I want to go shopping so I need some cash. I head off to find the bank and struggle somewhat, through my own incompetance more than anything else. Eventually I find the bank and I go to the cash point. It isn't giving US dollars so I go inside to try and get some. I meet the bank doorman who asks me something in fast Spanish. I ask him, in Spanish, if he speaks English:
¿habla usted Inglés?
He gives me a knowing look and directs me to a machine
which gives the customers
He gives me a knowing look and pokes some specific buttons on a machine to get a ticket. I take a seat and wait for my number to be called 'F192'.
It is eventually called and I head up to the counter. I ask if the guy speaks English and he says "yes of course, why did you come to this counter?"
"Because my ticket told me to?!" I reply cautiously.
"Is is the disabled counter!" he explains.
"Ah! I told the chap I was English and he gave me this." I am quasi apologetic and sort of laughing. Does the doorman think being English is a disability?
"Ok well you knowing for next time." he says and I reply with "ok, sure" knowing a next time I unlikely really. We then discuss my trouble and he explains how there is a second machine for US dollars and describe where it is.
So off I go to that machine. It does indeed dispense dollars whoop and just as I am taking my money and splitting it between my purse bad money belt it takes my credit card back into the machine and I look at the machine confused... Wtf? It's eaten my card. I only had about 10seconds to grab it I think.
And now I have to go back into the stupid bank.... Arggggg! There was a next time and it's sooner than I thought it would be.
I push all buttons on the atm to no avail and then skulk back towards the bank. Arg! I got up to a different bank guard to explain my issue. He goes over to the little ticket machine. 'Nooooooo!' I cry inside my head. At least he doesn't push the disabled button but I still have my card in a machine and I am worried it might pop back out any minute.
So in my British way, and because I want immediate service, I stand and refuse to sit down. I am the odd one out in this place for sure. Things seem to move very slowly in this bank. I scale up the British annoyance by scowling and giving out a little huff noise. It works and when the next number is called the guard takes me over in front of the genuine ticket holder and I get served straight away.
"Yes the machine will do that if you don't take your card straight out." I am told by a very smart looking lady bank clerk. "You can have it back if you show me your passport!"
"Great! I have that here!" and I pull my trousers down....
... Enough to get at my money pouch :)
I hand the lady my passport and then wait for what feels like an hour but was probably 10-15minutes. The staff even walk slowly from place to place. I don't really understand this with so many people waiting.
The lady returns and wants me to sign photocopies of my card. She doesn't like my signature because it's not the same as my passport. It is however identical to he signature on the card which apparently isn't enough and I try and copy out he signature on my passport to her satisfaction. She eventually gives me my card and I smile and leave the bank with my hope never to return again.
Now I head to the market with my hard earned money. :) The indoor market is one long line of touristy stuff in sequential alcoves with their attendees all inviting you in to look at their almost identical products. "I do you a good deal!" rings hollow by he end of the market line because they all say it and they all so the same deals. Never pay the price on these tags m because they are set to be able to discount for your 'deal' ;)
I wander down the market and chat briefly to many many many market sellers. Many of them remember me from yesterday. It seems I am memorable, maybe just by trousers :)
I look at many items and purchase some trousers I take a fancy to :) I do a deal with the girl who seems confused. I leave and am looking at other items when she runs after me saying she calculated wrong and she pleads with me to come back. Now this may split my audience if I tell you what I did ;) Should I have kept my awesome deal, or saved her from her boss? I might leave you guessing here. If you want to know, tell me in the comments ;)
After I leave the market it starts spitting with rain and I head back to he hotel at a fast pace. No one else seems to move in a rush here; the pace of things is more akin to a stroll. I change clothes and get ready to go out for dinner at Limoncello, a restaurant highly rated for those of us sensitive to gluten :)
I decided to walk to limoncello and in hindsight I feel this is a bit silly. A cab is about £1.40 and the walk felt a bit nerve wracking. It gets dark about 5:30pm here year round and the place takes on a distinctly different feel at night; the areas behind the many railings and barbed wire fences are now plunged into darkness becoming perfect spots for my imagination to insert a mugger or murderer lurking in the dark.
I follow the google maps path which brings me to a train track. I look down the track, people are crossing it further down do I guess it's ok and I hop across quickly. I can hear a train in the distance and it passes about 10 seconds after I jump across the track.
I scoot along to limoncello and try to ignore the many guys that talk to me from their cars... Yikes! After what is only a 10minute journey I arrive and breath out a sigh of relief.
Limoncello is a celiac's haven. Most of the menu is gluten free and they even bring warm fresh gluten free bread made from yucca root.
The waiter has clearly sensed my caution and looks up the yucca plant on his phone and presents me with the Wikipedia page. I grin and have a little read "wow that's great! and you make his in-house?" I can see the waiter likes to please his customers and so I like to show I am pleased... We are pleasers :). "Yes! Yes we do!" he says proudly and seems to stand up a little straighter as he does. "It's excellent!" I proffer and he takes the compliment well "thank you, thank you very much!" and walks away with what I detect is a mini strut. I adore it when people love their work :)
Limoncello is a spacious restaurant with low level romantic classical music playing and lighting to match... I may be having a solo date but I am still very much enjoying this place and I order an iced tea... I know how to treat a lady ;) I continue to woo the heck out of myself my ordering salmon, my favourite... But how did I know?! ;) Salmone al Miele
It is a decent portion and nutty and delicious, also quite a lot of food after I allowed myself some snacks earlier (naughty Peta). The plate also has a tiny label on the plate saying 'gluten free'.
Now I am not always one for a desert but I feel like my date is going well and so I order Nutella cake for myself with maracuya ice cream. The waiter proudly tells me it is very good and "it is best slightly heated which I will do for you personally", I feel very looked after here.
It is a nice cake albeit a little dry and because I am quite full anyway I leave a fair bit and ask for the bill and a taxi. They sort out both promptly for me and help me into the taxi and stand on the step to wave goodbye. It's feels like I have had dinner at someone's grandparents :)
The taxi home cost £1.20 and I give £1.40 which is 1000colones. It is a much nicer way to travel here at night and I get into my room with a full tummy and sleepy eyes. I chat to a few mates online and fall asleep listening to a podcast about the statistics of Twitter messaging. Geek! ;)
