now I can go to burrito stores that serve burritos on those weird meat holders sans guilt. Siiiiigh
I just have to say that I don’t have any girlfriend’s “poking” me on here (FB).
I think that that Mark Zuckerberg is one smart viral double entendre genious! All I know is that if my man was getting poked by a bunch of chicks, I would be raising some hell, and he sure as shit better not be poking any girls. I seem to have the knack of getting poked by people named Daniel-Just an added twist. If it’s not suggestive then riddle me this, why when just after… ahem… one of my regular pokers announced that he was in a relationship has he ceased to poke me? Not to say that I miss it but… I noticed. I am alas, a surveyer of time and space and want to hear who is poking you and who the hell are you poking?
Do you poke your mom? Most likey you’re poking some chick or guy who you always wanted to hook up with and never did or someone you did and for whatever reason can’t anymore. Like you’re married lol and somehow virtual pokes are O.K.
I think it’s hysterical. Right after this I am going to poke a bunch of girls. Ha ha, I never did that in college.
Surf Posse to Boca Barranca- A Goofy Paradise
Boca Barranca, which means mouth of the Barranca… is Costa Rica’s second longest left hand break.This break is about an hour north of Playa Hermosa at the end of the river mouth (boca) in a town called Puntarenas. The outpouring of the river creates perfect sand bars that create some perfect reeling waves that when the swell’s just right can break for up to a kilometer (long-ass ride in English). If you’re goofy, not looking or in demeanor but rather, surf with your right foot in front, then this is the mecca spot.
Venezuelan Surf Sherpa says, “at this wave you paddle and then apply the DTH formula and repeat.” DTH stands for drop-turn-hit. He was right. The waves peeled for days but, with long rides come long, long paddles back out. The paddle formlua was more like WTF!? The work to get out went on much longer than the ride but, what doesn’t kill you gets you back into the line up.
The waves of Boca Barranca weren’t as fast as the piping wave machine of Playa Hermosa still, they had enough power to push “Dog” the Viking and plenty of heat to let me practice my own backside DTH.
A Perfect End to a Perfect Beginning- Margarita, tumbl’d not stirred.
Yeah, so, trying to write every day while on vacation was harder than I thought it would be. There was nothing I “had” to do each day but still time flew by and I found myself sweeping the task of recounting the fleeting sensations of my adventures under the bed along with the sand I brought in from the beach.
But alas the universe, as always, is having it’s way with me and I am currently hostage to the Phoenix airport for at least another two hours. Thus, I will embrace this perfect end to a perfect beginning by boring you with my hmmm, what’s the opposite of mishaps?
Sorry R Kelly, urinating on it is not the answer
Before anyone gets too jealous, Oh !? It’s too late? Well don’t be too, too much because traveling has it’s own perils like sex tourists, undercut exchange rates, and if you stick to the coastal wet parts like the ocean, Augas Malas ( Bad Waters). We call them JellyFish. Yes, I encountered one of these treacherous, sneaky bastards in the beach break at the south end of Jaco. I didn’t even see him coming so there was no hope of avoiding it but, seeing them is not necessary to dis-enjoy the long lasting discomfort of their sting. In fact I am reveling in the nagging irritation as I write. Incidentally and extra lucky, I was the only one in my surf posse to get stung. That’s right, posse.
Also, incidentally, it seems I have been tasted by every other type of biting insect that lives in the low lands of Costa Rica. If nothing else, it’s a compliment to my flavor I must admit.
Despite popular lore, treating a jellyfish sting does not require your buddy nor a juxtaposed sex tourist to pee on it. However, it’s quite good for a laugh later around a table of beers while the victim realizes that it doesn’t help a thing.
According to my too little, too late research comprised of “googling it”, hot, hot water or something acidic, much more acidic than urine are supposed to neutralize the poison.
Unfortunately, since I was floating in the ocean miles away from my cabina (what they call shabby hotel rooms in Costa Rica) that had no heating capabilities and since there were no vinegar sales people on the beach that day, I just cursed a bit and proceeded to catch some waves. Sorry potty mouths, cursing is not a cure either. Fu$#!
Bienvenidos al dia dos, which means welcome to day two in Spanish. Something that Costa Rica celebrates that goes rather unappreciated in the States are hammocks. After 30 days of rain, I was welcomed to the country with two glorious days filled of sunshine and billowing clouds, and then the rain fell again.
I don’t care much for rain back home, although a necessary evil, it’s cold and gloomy and if it rains for more than two days in a row I end up overdosing on caffeine to combat the inevitable melancholy that consistently follows.
In Costa Rica on the other hand, the rain is welcomed much like a whimsical breeze welcomes bits of magic. Just after my morning surf session where more waves got me then I got them, I hopped in the pool to wash a way the sticky salt water. The drops began to lightly fall.
By the time I got to my room, where by the way, I can check the surf in my birthday suit from my balcony before I ever leave for coffee, the drizzle had progressed to a full on down pour. The soothing sound and sensation of a warm aired, tropical rain was the perfect compliment to my post surf mood of motionless bliss.
What the hell does that have to do with hammocks? See Video.
The rest of the day was full of other good things like jungle creatures and breathtaking sunsets. See photos.
See more Dia Dos photos HERE
The term “Third World” has a such a negative connotation. Costa Rica, as simple as it might be, is definitely first class. Where else can you pack five people in a 4 seater while drinking brews, blasting music from the 1970’s like it’s the coolest new thing, and roll a hooter as you drive past la policia.
It’s day one and already I’ve made some fun new viking-esque friends drank a six pack of Imperial, which I hear gives extra good buzzes to to its formaldehyde content- yummy- is there such a thing as anti-aging beer? Well then sign me up!
…And got in a good two hour surf session, sans wetsuit. Hallelujah! The water temp is a “chilly” 76 degrees according to the locals and, this morning I awoke to sunshine and beach brreaks pumpiing fast lefts and rights. I had at least one of each for breakfast after my cafe con leche. Costa Rica has some of the best coffee the world has to offer, I mean even the coffee at the bank makes you want a second cup.
Las Olas, my retreat hostile, is more of a quaint cabina sort of place than a resort but, what it lacks in glamor and cable it makes up in colorful ex patriots, pirated wifi and, good ol’ fashioned friendliness. They must have known I was coming as the board they lent me is appoxy. :) Very clever of them, touche.
Pics above include Doug, who my Venezuelan Surf Sherpa calls “Dog”, the gorgeous green country side, and the view from my room. … more to come. Pura Vida, pues casi pura vida, meno algunas cervezas. I am on vacation.
A new adventure begins-
Now, that’s figuratively true as well as literally. I left my job, I lost my house, my dog ran away.. well that’s not all true. My dog is right where he should be. snuggled up in bed snoring away.
However, I have moved out of my old shabby, mold infested beach pad, left a job where my creativity was stifled by fearful Luddites.. I have forsaken all things ill-fittiing for the unknown and the hope of something better. It’s amazing how the universe can provide once you open a door.
That was a bit of the figurative adventure now to the actual adventure… When asked where I was moving to I jokingly yet, honestly replied,” Costa Rica.” I knew little else than I would be spending the days surrounding my birthday surfing warm water in nothing than a swim suit.
With a little research and a little bargaining I arranged and open ended ticket and an open ended stay at a little surf resort called Las Olas on the Southern Pacific side of Costa Rica. In exchange for a website remodel and marketing work I get to stay as long as I like, or in my case, till I ware out my welcome.
I am currently en route freezing my tootsies off in the Philly international airport. Your mom always tells you to wear clean underwear when you travel, I guess so in the case “they” have to pry you out of your clothes due to some hanus accident, you’ll have clean skivvies. Personally, I like to go commando so that in the same unfortunate situation, there’s a little levity :) Anywho, one thing I certainly recommend is wearing the socks! It’s difficult getting a few winks at 3 o’clock in the morning on those airport chairs when you’re freezing to death. Its tough packing for tropical vacations where your roughted through froze ass middle America.
I hope to write every day, even if nothing cool happens I’ll make something up. Off to check in and take the next leg to my Pura Vida.
If I could tame a wild animal…
I kept a wild animal as a pet for 5 years. I lived with it and even f&*$# it. It was a rare breed of rukus manbeast. It was great fun but in the end I had to release him back in the wild to roam with his own kind. I like to think he liked being my pet and I entertain the idea that maybe when he wakes up in growling start from his slumber he’s having bad dreams about me. :) Dedicated to Joe Marcus.
