Author: Josh

At Compañeros Cacao Farm in San Clemente, I am once again reminded of the simple pleasures in life.  Rain pelting a tin roof has to be among my top ten.  There's a strange calming effect emitted by the continual white noise that fills every space in the house.  As I sink deeper into bed and closer toward sleep, I feel as though I've become one with the ebb and flow of the clouds' tears.  The rain continues to sing its lullaby throughout the night as it varies intensity; creating soothing tones and rhythmic pitch changes. What a strange feeling it was to be lulled to sleep by the night's rain only to be jolted awake at 4AM by its voracious screams as mother nature opened her skies to let it pour down on our roof all at once.  The sound was deafening, yet oddly calming at the same time.   Read more

Once again, my morning began at an hour far too early for my vagabonding standards.  I crawled out of bed and out of the mosquito netting to leave Meisha fast asleep.  After a bit of coffee and a quick breakfast, Clay and I left the house to meet our fishing guide at the Estero Negro River.  Slathered in sunscreen in anticipation of a very warm day, we walked down the dusty 500 meters of road from Clay’s cacao farm out to the highway.  As we met the highway, the rain met us.  If there’s one thing that moves quickly here in Costa Rica, it’s the rain.   

Within minutes, a slow drizzle became a veritable downpour.  We trudged on as canceling wasn’t an option.  Edgar was paddling 2 hours downriver to meet us where the river meets the Caribbean Sea.  Cell phones weren’t an option, so this trip was going to happen, despite the weather.  Read more

After a few quick email exchanges via CouchSurfing, we jumped on the bus with our Czech friend Michal to go meet a (mostly) total stranger in San José for some coffee and urban exploration. Upon our arrival, we stepped out of the Puriscal Bus Terminal to see Mariano waiting there for us on his trusty little blue Fiat. Curbside pickup. Right on 🙂 As we drove to find a good parking spot, we got to know each other a bit and Mariano explained the disorganized driving habits of Central America to us. Mariano found a suitable spot and as we started to head toward Avenida Central, he was stopped by a "watchy man" (an under-the-table person who keeps an eye on your car if you pay him... if not, not guarantee of what might happen). He paid the watchy man and we moved on.   Read more

The sun had barely cracked the horizon, its warm glow moving down the adjacent slope of the Rio Quebrada Honda valley as we rolled out of bed. While rubbing my eyes and peering out the hazy window at the early morning spectacle I begin to wonder, "Why did we sign up for this again? Oh yeah... volcano." It seems as though the very word was designed to suck the interest of anyone who dared glance at a Lonely Planet Guide. We stumbled into some CouchSurfing friends the night before and as soon as the word was mentioned, it sounded good to us and we agreed to meet up and go together. Luckily our bags were pre-packed and limited clothing makes for limited selection time. We rouse Michal, the Czech CouchSurfer staying in the room next door.  Out the door and down the road.   Read more