Southern Exposure

Friday, January 2

By the morning of the fourth day in Granada we were VERY ready to hit the road. After breakfast at the hotel, we loaded up the bikes and were on our way to the border crossing with Costa Rica. We took the Interamericana all the way down.

Mostly an uneventful ride apart from passing a few wind farms that always look fascinating and make us want to stop and take pictures; while their sight usually makes me a bit tense in the anticipation of “gusty winds” that might be ahead. This time it was just a pretty sight.

As soon as we pulled to the Nicaragua border we were surrounded by helpers yelling and pointing into our faces. We passed the check point and ended up in a small plaza where we had to deal with getting our passport stamps, moto stamps and checking out of the country. It became apparent that we should hire the one boy that stuck with us to speed things up. It took almost 2 hours to finalize everything – as much as it usually takes us to go through both borders. While I was waiting for Matt, I bought two bottles of our favourite Chilean wine (Concha Y Toro is the producer) at the Duty Free, and we were on our way to deal with the Costa Rican officials.

It took at least two more hours at the Costa Rica border. While Matt was dealing with paperwork, I chatted with a woman who was riding with her husband from Canada to Panama. We also met another rider – Gregory – who rode from Boston to Alaska and was on his way to Ushuaia. We had seen him on the roads before – he has a very distinctively painted tank on his 83 BMW. It was nice to finally meet him in person.

It was about 2:30 pm when we were finally free of the border hassle. We had two places in mind for our next destination. Either go to Lake and Volcano Arenal or ride down to Nosara on the Pacific Coast, which is a place where I did my yoga training a year ago. We decided for the latter.

I was a bit nervous about riding on the dirt roads which I remember being very bumpy, covered in holes with large rocks scattered all over; and we knew we only had 3 hours before the sun set, which as I remembered was not enough time to get to the village. But we decided to take our chances in hopes of spending the weekend on the beach.

About 90 percent of the road was paved and only the last stretch ended up being the dirt road. Unfortunately, it was getting dark as soon as we turned on the dirt road. We had only about 25 km to go, but riding in the dark and encountering crazy drivers flying out of the corners in the opposite direction was a little nerve racking and stressful for me. Plus I kept feeling that the bike was more “flexible” and wobbly than usual, making it less stable on the rocks. By the time we reached Nosara I was drenched in sweat from all the stress and humidity.

I knew at least three hotels we could stop at. At the first one where I stayed before, the reception desk was already closed (at 6 pm!). The second one, the largest and nicest hotel in the village was completely booked. That was not a good sign for us, as we realized that it was the weekend after New Year’s – the busiest time for a surf destination like Nosara. Hoping for the best I went to check in with the last hotel I knew about. The reception was closed, and I became very worried. Fortunately, the keeper saw me from the restaurant and after about 10 minutes of making phone calls and checking her books, she told me we could have the owner’s room – he was supposed to come that night, but will be coming the next day instead. She would find another room for us tomorrow. Thank God! I could not wait to get out of the riding gear and take a shower.

We decided to park the bikes in front of the hotel room, which meant riding through a narrow gravel pathway between the building and a garden. While turing on to the pathway I knocked over a faucet on the outdoor water pipe. The water was splashing all over, rising up in a high fountain. The keeper girl was trying to cover it with her hand without much luck, getting her pretty white dress completely soaked through. I felt totally embarrassed for being so clumsy, and not knowing how I can help stop the water. Here I was, being let in to the owner’s quarters on the last leap of faith, all the while destroying the hotel’s property and causing trouble to the staff. One of the staff guys tried to cover it with a wooden cork to no success. They finally put a plastic bag around it so the fountain was still splashing, but contained in the bag, leaking on the ground.

We took our long-awaited showers, had dinner at the hotel (pizza, salad and two beers for $30!) and retired to bed.