Day 35 - Hostel Pachamama, San Juan del Sur

After the antics from the evening before, I had a quick look at Cassy whilst on the way down to the beach for a quick swim at 07:00am. She was fine and the broken bracket on the jerry can was nothing to serious, well nothing a few repositioned bungy cords couldn’t sort out. We got packed up and left San Juan del Sur, a great little town and I’m glad we made the decision to stop an extra night in Nicaragua. We were on to Costa Rica next, and this had always promised to be a big highlight, so I was keen to get through the border, and get into the next country. As the border was only about 30 minutes ride from San Juan del Sur, we were there in no time at all. We had done some research the evening before about the process of passing through the border and it looked pretty straight forward. However, Jorik had clocked a key tip in the research that told us where to get our TIP cancelled. It was through a door that has a NO ENTRY sign, that no one tells you about. Anyway, the tip paid off and we were through the Nicaraguan border in about 30 minutes. When we pulled up at the Costa Rican border, we were expecting dancing girls, a fanfare, and possibly a marching band. After the really crappy crossings we have done on this trip, I thought this would be a walk in the park. To be fair, it was pretty straightforward, but we had to join a massive queue for immigration that took about an hour to get through, then we had to get a few more stamps from various different departments before heading on to the vehicle inspection area a bit further down the road. We pulled up to a very secure looking arrangement with a guard on the gate. There was a bit of a fuss when we arrived, and I just wanted to go in to talk to someone. A more senior looking chap came over and we took it that we could get our insurance sorted out (US$45 for each bike!), but we would have to wait until after lunch to get the actual TIP. What you ganna do! So, we sat down to wait for lunch to be finished. We did chat with a chap who helped me translate some of what was being said to me through the process as my Spanish is still about as a useful as my Arabic. With our paperwork in order, it was on to Tamarindo, about 2 and a half hours down the road. The first stretch of road from the border to Liberia was interesting but was along a very busy route so we had to keep our wits about us whilst bombing south. When we turned off the main highway towards the coastal towns, not only did the roads get a little more interesting to ride (so basically worse), the scenery more beautiful, but the resorts and signs of serious tourism started to show. We had been warned that Costa Rica would be more touristy and that is to be expected, particularly considering some of the countries we had just come through. However, that comes with a higher cost of everything. I had seen a place online called the Pura Vida Hostel, which wasn’t too far from the beach, the main drag in the town, and had a twin room for about US$50 a night. But as per our style, we arrived in the town and pulled up to a bar. In fact, it was a brewery and sold craft beers. Not something that I usually go in for, but it was right on the beach and right at the start of town, so a good location for us to pull in and get our bearings. The security guard got a little excited when we pulled up and took the last remaining parking spot for the bikes, but an English-speaking chap, who I took to be the owner of the adjacent coffee shop, said that it would be fine to park there so we did. Whilst not a long day in the saddle, it was still hot and humid, and it was good to be off the bike for a bit. We jumped on the Wi-Fi in the bar, a craft beer in hand, which was bloody expensive for 2 pints, and we had a look at our options. We decided that Pura Vida Hostel looked like the business for us. Back on the bikes, which had already drawn some attention, we passed through town along the main road and found our way up a track to the hostel. It was very nice, had a pool, a good sized room with a communal bathroom, but importantly, it had AC as it was still pretty hot. We got the bikes unloaded and all our kit up to the room and then went for a swim, got some laundry sorted out with the Polish receptionist surfer chick, before heading down to the town to check it out. Tamarindo is great town, but expensive, so we opted for some food from a food market and then went down to the beach to watch the sun go down and have a few beers. It is once again clear that it is not peak season, at all. A lot of the restaurants are massive with huge amounts of seating, for hundreds of people, but there only like 4 of 5 tables being used. I have to admit, I think Tamarindo would be a very different place in peak season and not somewhere that I think I would want to be. It is a great town, just small so I could see how it could become overwhelmed with young students and backpackers. Mind you, there are not likely to be too many brits, so maybe the youngsters are better behaved in Costa Rica, but I doubt it. After our food and drinks, it was back to the hostel for some kip as the next day was ours.