911 To Flamingo

Chaos is not the word that comes to mind when one thinks of Costa Rica but we had our share of it yesterday after we finally left Bahia Salinas. Outside Liberia we bought some delicious refreshing rambutans. Breakfast of champions. 

They look odd but they taste fresh and delicious.

We drove to Liberia the biggest town in northern Costa Rica and you will be delighted to know they have Walmart and Price Smart (a Central American membership warehouse chain also present in Colombia for future reference). We went to Walmart out of habit and Layne came back out looking pale and perturbed. “$123!” she said. Prices apparently are worse than the US and not just on imported items. She said she stopped looking at prices when the modest block of Costa Rican cheddar she wanted cost $10. Costa Rica is known to be expensive and that’s all there is to it. Bollocks. Let’s move on. 

The road deteriorated as we went deep into the countryside. I drive slowly as I’m not keen on breaking anything under GANNET2 or aboard my little home so I pull over frequently to let traffic by. But there were enough potholes the others cars were swerving pretty much all the time to avoid them too. 

Then things got really weird. The road split into two muddy dirt tracks and I had no idea which way to go. The car behind me had stopped so I went to ask her what to do. She said there was a river to ford or you pay ten dollars to go over a bridge. Well, obviously we had to pay the ten bucks. So we turned right. 

We paid out ten bucks at the booth even as a string of foreigners on all terrain vehicles waited for us to get our receipt. Then off we went with absolutely no clue where we were going or why. We got lost of course and surprised some workmen mixing cement. Back it up! It was some kind of gated community offering tours and homes in the woods. 

We tonked around for a bit feeling like idiots, mostly because we were. We saw other cars zipping by but we couldn’t catch them up to follow them as GANNET2 bless her heart handled more like a lame hippo than a sprightly gazelle on these absurd privately owned trails. 

We did cross a rickety wooden planked bridge and then found a workshop on the woods. One of the youths there took our receipt as though we might have snuck in tiptoeing past the guards like a Disney elephant in a pink tutu and then he let us out. 

For a brief moment we felt relief to be released back on the highway as we watched a truck grind up the hill from the river dripping water as it went. We’d probably have drowned had we tried to be frontiersmen. 

Then we settled down to navigate Highway 911 to the beach town of Flamingo. Just our luck I said to Layne if we had a 911 emergency on Highway 911. 

The road was narrow and winding and unmarked with signs or paint and travelers fling themselves at it at  full throttle. It seemed inevitable something would go wrong. 

I hugged the right hand side and tried to let the speed demons pass but confronted with large trucks which had no intention of yielding or slowing I just hugged the shrubbery and hoped for the best. 

The idea is to explore the coast and Flamingo was said to be a nice beach town so we were indeed exploring. On Highway 911. 

Google Maps estimated our speed would be about ten miles per hour and they weren’t wrong. 

We got there intact but Flamingo looked like a pit to us. I’m sure surfers would like the waves but it wasn’t swimmable or pretty or anything too appealing to us.

We drive on through. 

We arrived at the water and found ourselves at a day use beach with boats on moorings looking lovely. 

I never expected the end of the Highway would land us in Croatia but that was what the marina looked like from a distance! A castle on a hill but I think it was just another hotel or something. 

Then, when I once again pulled over to let a car by this one stopped alongside me and rolled down his window. “Are you a citizen of the Conch Republic?” He asked grinning and leaving me at a loss for words. Yes. Yes I am actually. 

I suppose this wild camper spot made us feel at home in that way. People came to the beach to watch the sun set. Not unlike Mallory Square at home. 

Eventually they left and we slept not in Key West but in Costa Rica. Pura Vida!

Swimming Not Driving

We were going to drive away today but yesterday the sirens came out on the waters of Bahia Salinas and the waves went flat as the winds dropped and we were swimming in a vast salt water swimming pool. 

“Let’s stay another day,” Layne said so who was I to argue?

How many days would you want to spend here? We are alone except for a few locals who walk their dogs past us morning and evening and a handful of hotel guests who stroll across the highway and stare at the water for a few minutes. Oh and Josef who lives in a rental house for sale across the sandy track behind us. 

He really lives in Linz in Austria and spends his summers flying helicopters so during the cold winter months he travels and sail boards in places with strong winds. Like Bahia Salinas. 

We swim in the wavelets raised by the winds blowing across the bay while he zips almost out of sight in seconds. “How was Nicaragua?” I asked after one his flights in the direction of the mountains that somewhere imprecise mark where the two countries join. 

Our other Austrian friends, youngsters we met in Mexico have arrived in Panama City. They are in a hurry as they have to be home in Europe in April so they took a chance and worked their way around the road blocks that still have Panama closed to highway traffic. 

For us retired old farts with time on our hands we see no advantage to pushing into Panama before the country settles down. The protestors have won, the copper mine they objected to will have to close but they don’t trust the President to honor the ruling of the Supreme Court in their favor. So the PanAmerican Highway is still closed and Lisa and Sandro had to scramble on dirt backroads to get to Panama City. 

Neither of us feels like pulling a John Wayne to get somewhere we don’t have to be right now. Confront masked protestors or go for a swim? You choose because we made our choice. 

Josef and his girlfriend have invited us out to dinner with them tonight at a Costa Rican place  nearby and tomorrow we really do mean to get on the road south stopping wherever we find the next pleasant swimming beach. 

Bahia Salinas

Notice two things: 

1) It is sunny. 

2) There is tidal salt water. 

So what more do you need?  A nice drive to get here? Done.

Across northern Costa Rica’s hills from Lake Arenal to the city of Liberia. 

We stopped for gas and paid $5:38 per gallon of regular gas. They cleaned our windshield which was nice and they did it with a hose followed by a stiff scrubbing with  a brush. Never seen that before. Also we’ve noticed Costa Rican gas stations don’t advertise prices. Perhaps they are all set by the government? That was our first fill up in this country and we’ll have to see at the next, but driving around we haven’t seen one pump advertising the price.  

There is tons of roadside advertising for tourist services especially. And mostly in English. “Three miles?” Guess who they are expecting to pull in - not Europeans that’s for sure. 

These hills are alive with Americans and Canadians apparently. There are lots of For Sale signs and condo developments all in English. Come on down, they’re ready for you. 

One of the hassles of being a nomad is not knowing who provides what services. When I needed an oil change in the Keys I went to a place (now closed) in Marathon as I lived on Cudjoe and it was just as easy to drive there as Key West. Down here I haven’t a clue who is any good beyond Google reviews. As it was we stopped for an oil change and it was not great. 

I’ve had a struggle trying to find 5W-20 engine oil in this country of year round summer. I was figuring I’d have to go to the Jeep dealer in the capital San Jose to get my six quarts (Jeeps use the same engine as the Promaster which isn’t sold south of Mexico). We happened on a big oil change place and they said they could get the right oil so they drained my van. That was when their supplier said they only had three quarts of my 5W-20. Grrr. My mechanic in Ohio whom I called said 5W-30 is fine especially in a warm climate so that’s what we did but I sure felt set up. And the work cost $123 and that was with me providing the filter. Yes, Costa Rica is pricey. Rusty didn’t care ( and you can even see his shaved bum poor boy). 

We took the freeway around the city of Liberia and then drove on through unkempt green fields to the coast. 

We caught a glimpse of the ocean as we started down the hill…

…and I wondered out loud why no one ever builds a nice panoramic vista spot in any of these Central American countries? Lo and behold! 

The phone company guys on their lunch break decided to get an extra high view of Salinas Bay in the distance:

It looked mighty enticing down there half an hour away. iOverlander  lists this as an overnight spot but we had a date with saltwater. 

Bahia Salinas is the northernmost indentation on Costa Rica’s Pacific coast. It shares the north shore with Nicaragua and the PanAmerican Highway border crossing, Peñas Blancas,  is the main route into Costa Rica. 

We were looking for a beach and we tried three different spots. The first was a public access parking lot between two resort hotels. Layne liked it as the water was flat smooth but I couldn’t stand the vibe there. Too many people, lots of boats and jet skis in the water and a snotty beach waiter who uninvited told us to take better care of our dog. Huh?Our second beach was small and empty but the waves were too big for swimming. Our third beach had possibilities even though the waves were pretty regular here too. But we were tired and we figured we could stay one night. 

Not too shabby a view and mostly insect-free as well. No rain either. 

Rusty likes Costa Rica…

…and so do we. 

Incidentally the Supreme Court in Panama has ruled the mining law unconstitutional, giving the road blocking protestors total victory. Great. So the roads should open soon right? Not necessarily as the protestors say they won’t open the roads till the mine closes. It’s been 36 days since you could drive from Costa Rica to Panama City and it may be a few weeks more. I checked our papers and we have permission to stay in Costa Rica till May so I think we can sit them out. Especially with a coastline of beaches like these to explore…