Today, the people of Parrita were the kindest to us. Where Clint dropped us off at the bus stop, local Tico Freddy, brought us the rest of the way to the bus station, saving us a few colones. From there, we got to Quepos and picked up our rental car for the big move.
I’ve been averaging a book a week since we arrived and seeing as we’ve been here four weeks and I only brought four books, I’d say I’m in desperate need of more. Any book about how to be a better writer begins by insisting that you do only two things: read and write. One recommendation went so far as to encourage wanna-be writers to read ten times more than write. So I did some research and found out that there’s a used book store in Jaco, about half hour from our town. We took advantage of the freedom of our own wheels again and Books N Stuff was first on our agenda. I expected it to either be closed for the day or not exist (the one we heard of in Quepos was shutdown), but the universe apparently wants me to read as much I can - the store was open, empty of people and full of books. I was disappointed at first because the books looked no younger than me. Until I happened to stumble across Breaking Dawn and New Moon and realized that these relatively new books just looked really old - jacketless, binding broken, and stained pages. I realized these weren’t aged, they were just well travelled. They’ve probably laid on more beaches, flown on more planes and been carted around more countries than I have. If I were a book, I’d probably look worse than them after the month I've had. But I kept their journey going and walked out with 8 books for less than $40. Even Amazon can’t beat that.
Within two minutes of pulling in the driveway, we got a knock on our door. Expecting it to be Clint saying goodbye, we opened it up and didn’t recognize who was looking back at us. It was Ryan, a New Yorker who landed in Costa Rica a day before us and was thinking about renting our place for a few months. He travelled 8 hours by bus and ferry to meet our landlord tomorrow when he checks us out. As a smart renter, he wanted more than just pictures and prices…he wanted real opinions and honest answers about the property from people who would know best having lived in it. I have a feeling he also wanted to get the heck out of his cabina since his description included several references to crackheads and prostitutes.
We found ourselves telling him that the place was great. We weren’t lying either, we had no reason to. The place is nice and very clean (bugs don’t count when discussing cleanliness here…it’s like complaining about pollen in springtime…everyone knows about it and deals with it). We were honest; there’s cucarachas (he nodded as if he already knew that), there’s crabs (little more reaction to that one but apparently that’s also normal being so close to the beach), there’s no hot water (shrug of the shoulders), and it’s a hell of a walk to anywhere that’s somewhere (we were all in agreement – that really sucked). But the beach…the beach is awesome. You didn’t have to live here to see that.
Ryan was conflicted since he wanted to rent it but only if the house was able to help him profit from a self-run, modest and very private yoga/surf retreat. He wasn’t sure if it would work but he had the ambition to try which was admirable, if only his funds could match. In the short period of time he spent complimenting Mike’s photographs and sharing travel experiences, we realized we had a lot in common. He had dealt with the same issues we had since landing here; ashamedly admitting to missing media and entertainment, finding ourselves looking for a way to be connected to something and finding no routine even more distracting than a monotonous one. Our conversation flowed as if we had known him for weeks but we finally ran out of things to say after a couple of hours, gave him our contact information and wished him luck, in life and in his cabina.
And then we packed for our easiest move yet. Suitcases refilled and grocery bags loaded. We are ready to roll.
No comments:
Post a Comment