1st morning

I finally made it. I am finally here.

I am not gonna lie and say that, as I sat in my parent's car, I didn't regret booking this trip. I thought of all the people I was leaving behind, and I especially remember how Kitten would always  cuddle with me under the sheet.
But now, that I am here, I regret nothing. I am writing this blog post not from my comfortable couch at home, in front of my TV but from a wooden bench overlooking the black sand and the busy street of Puerto Viejo. It is 7 am, and I am the only one awake in the hostel. The excitement and the humidity kept me awake and after organizing myself a bit (and wondering which bird was screeching out my window) I quickly proceeded to step outside.
Again, I can't describe the amazement that I feel right now. Especially after having my first impression of Costa Rica through the eyes of an exhausted traveler. Now let's back track a bit so you can understand what I mean by "exhausted".

At 3:30 AM on Wednesday, I stepped out of my parents' home with one suitcase (46lbs), one big carry on, and another backpack which carried my laptop, passport, money, and important valuables. at 4:00AM, we arrived at the airport. The Philadelphia airport is nothing short of a maze. After going up and down stairs, crossing bridges, and opening doors, we finally made it to check in. I, nervoulsy, put my suitcase on the scale, ready to quickly switch items to my carry on. The suitcase's exact weight was 47.5 lbs. The limit is 50 lbs. I had half a second to debate if I wanted to add items, but it was early in the morning and I didn't want to give TSA another reason to search my bag.
After more anxiety provoking experiences, my bag made it through TSA. It got its little sticker "cleared" and I relaxed a bit. The new worry was food. Will I have a last meal in the USA?
Well, PHL is constructed in such a way, that the food court in terminal A East is on the other side of security. So I didn't get to have my little DD or Cinnabon with my parents (which I am sure I won't be upset about).
I smiled and waved at my parents as I went through security. A little 5ft young adult managed to have 4 baskets out and two bags. I was walking back and forth through the line to push all my stuff together. Nervously waiting for TSA to find a reason to stop me.
Again, I made it clear. I boarded my first plane. Within seconds, I fell asleep. I woke up in Miami, confused and boiling hot. I had booked a window seat, and the sun had been beaming on the window's protective curtain, resulting it in being scolding. My face had NO IDEA until I woke up. Whatever, I still got some sleep.
At the Miami airport, my new gate was only 5 minutes away from the exit of the plane. It wasn't only convenient, but I got to peruse the breakfast places (it was 8:00 at this point). Quickly, I paid my 3$ for a chocolate stuffed croissant, took my malaria medication. I was two days in. I better had not start forgetting. Before boarding the plan, I met a family that was on a NatGeo historical tour of the Panama Canal. I flagged their tour guide over, as they didn't notice she was taking names. Turned out, their boat had issues and their trip was going to changed drastically. I couldn't help but feel a little bad, before I bolted for the gate. Group 3 was called, and I had this constant worry that my giant carry-on would not find space. It did. Everytime.
This plane was harder for me to sleep on. The worry of the unknown was gnawing at my stomach, and my brain was racing through the plan. Get off the plane, grab my suitcase, get a ticket for the 14:00 MEPE bus to Puerto Viejo, get on the bus and get off in the city. Once in the city, find a taxi or walk to my hostel.
I had forgotten so many details of being a traveler and Costa Rica didn't take its time to remind me that the moto of a traveler is that Things wont go according to plan, but it will be fine.
I arrived, and forgotten about customs. The line was long, but it was quick. I met a farmer in line who had sold all of this land in the USA (Nevada and Utah) to move down to Panama. He was getting ready to sell his propriety in Costa Rica. He talked about the economy collapsing and how Costa Rica had too many gringos for him.

It was my turn to go see our little customs officer. He asked me if I spoke Spanish and I said yes. I answered all of his questions correctly and he asked to see my return ticket. I told him I only had it on my phone. My anxiety took the best of me, and as he gave me permission to show him my phone, the phone went flying through the air and crashed on the ground. Battery popped out. My phone is used to taking a hit for the team, but it enjoyed revenge as well. After five long minutes of awkwardly waiting for my phone to turn back on, I showed him the email from American Airlines. He stamped my passport, and off I went to grab my suitcase. I still had to go through Costa Rican customs. I was certain that at this point I had an ulcer, as the only food I had eaten was half a chocolate croissant in MIA and that I had been feeling nervous pain for the past 4 hours. I put all of my suitcases, carry-ons and jacket through the X-ray. The suitcase went through and I saw the guard put on his gloves.
He knew. I knew. He asked me in Spanish what the cans were. I baffled in Spanish "Leche de Cabra" (Goat milk) and pulled one out. He must have noticed my shaking, and my wide eyes and he let me go. Now was the easy part I told myself.
I walked out of the airport expecting to be in a city.
SJO airport is nowhere near San jose. It is 30 minutes away by taxi. How did I know this? The airport taxi staff told me. Now the guide books had warned me that taxi drivers like to rip off the gringos. At this point, I wasn't sure to trust him, but it didn't look like there was any buses here. There was no sign for a train, or a bus. Only taxis and renting a car. I reluctantly asked him the price and jumped in his cab. Luis was incredibly nice actually. After a few mishap in the city (such as getting pulled over by the police and going to the wrong bus station), we made it to the right bus stop. I had missed my bus by 10 minutes. The next bus was at 16:00. I had to wait another 2 hours to get to where I wanted to go.
People kept sitting on my bench and a few tried to talk to me. My phone was dying, and so I was forced to ask a few of them for the time. All of them were surprised of my origin. I was indeed, not a tica, but a full blooded white chick from two parts of the world.
After so much waiting and almost boarding the wrong bus, I made it onto mine. I sat next to a random man who I hoped hadn't eaten some bath salt. After three long hours, we made it to Limon. It was 8 PM. We were granted a 12 minutes break. Why so precise? I am not about to find out. I got off to the bus station which was mostly closed and looked through the merchandise. The only thing I recognized was peanuts. I was not in the mood to be adventurous with food, and I wasn't sure how much money I would need in the near future. I bought the bag of salted peanuts for 650 colones (1.3$) and pretty much ate all of it in one setting. I had some water from the plane to SJO and drank some of that. I tried to use one of the payphone to warn my hostel of my late arrival, but I had no idea how they truly worked.
Anyway, my 12 minutes were up. I got back on the bus, and the human sweat and odor was pungent. I could hardly believe that I had been breathing the smell of sweaty old men for the past three hours (granted I was asleep for a good hour). I told myself I only had 45 minutes to Puerto Viejo and that I would totally survive. It was dark and everything around the road looked the same. I wasn't sure if I would be able to recognize a place that only had pictures of it during the day when it was pitch dark outside.
I wasn't the one who recognized it. It was another young woman. She screamed "KAYA's" while on the bus, and it stopped. I grabbed my bag and got off the bus telling the driver I had "dos maletas". I grabbed my suitcases and rolled them in the sand to the receptionist.

He was closing the reception desk in 10 minutes. I was not amused, he was not amused. I was shown my room and all I wanted to do was shower and sleep. It was 9PM. I took a cold shower (as we are in Costa Rica) and emptied my bags into the tiny cabinet I was given. My room is far from luxurious. I have a bed with a small mattress, and a wooden desk/ cabinet. To be honest, I am happy with whatever they wanted to give me for 10$ (as long as it was a private room). The constant beating of the waves on the black sand put me to sleep as soon as I set up my mosquito net ( I had been there for 10 minutes and one landed on my arm. I am a mosquito magnet). I was snoring away.

This morning I woke up in disbelief that I was here. The combination of luck and readiness was flagrant to me now. If it wasn't for the ticos who had taken care of me along my way, I would still be in the airport looking for MEPE bus (maybe even crying).

Anyway, the hostel does have a cat, which I think is in heat so I get my daily dose of cat cuddles. No worries guys, it seems I picked the right place to be.
Now, I am gonna go on this beach that has been tempting me so badly!

As the ticos say it "CIAO!"