3 Days in, already a day off

This morning I woke up early again, but what really got me up was the delicious smell of bacon. I remember making myself a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich at home and worrying that this will be the last time I eat bacon in months. Yet, here I am again, surprised at the world.
I didn't eat my American breakfast today. I actually took the two hours this morning to face my fear of sitting in a hammock. If you have only seen the braided hammock that look slightly comfortable but are nicely displayed at Lowe's (or wherever hammock are sold), you haven't seen a real hammock. It is really just a piece of cloth attached at the ends by two ropes. Strong ropes, I am sure, but ropes non-the-less. I opened up the hammock to make sure there was no spiders, scorpions or snakes. There was none. I am not 100% why there would be some, but hey, nature has this funny way of finding its way around me. Ask the three mosquitos that braved the 30% DEET solution on my skin to access my blood!

I was half hoping there would be some sort of strange creature in there so I could give myself a reason to never try again. But here I was, ready to go. The terrifying thing about hammocks are not the imminent danger of hurting yourself physically but of really embarrassing yourself. This was the reason I picked such an early hour, when everyone was sleeping and no one was around other the night security guard who had already caught me talk baby to the stray cat the other morning. There was no shame between the two of us. If I was to fall and embarrass myself, he would be the one I wanted to do it in front of. And so I opened up the hammock, because the cloth really doesn't look like there is any end to it. I plotted my butt into the hammock, my feet were still to the ground so I could still have my balance. I sighed, while holding my laptop (I was hoping to re-read my last entry), closed my eyes and quickly put my legs in the hammock and rested my head back.
I stood still for a good minute, making sure the hammock wasn't going to break. My movements in the hammock were the equivalent of a sloth's. I opened my laptop and started reading. After five minutes of concentration, I forgot I was in a hammock.
I can safely say, I am no longer scared of getting in a hammock. Fear conquered. I think I will always double check for scorpions, spiders and snakes, but I think I am ready to publicly sit in a hammock.

After my hammock incident, I couldn't ignore the black hole that had replaced my stomach. The bacon smell had turned into sausage smell, and the two mixed together made my stomach angry. It growled once, and I knew what it meant. I took my malaria medications and went into town. I didn't take my bike, because I wanted to take a walk on the beach. And so I did. I arrived in town within 5 minutes. There is three places to be in Puerto Viejo: EZ time, TexMex and Johnny's place. Texmex is the place where all the dodgy, Rastafarians hang out. If you are looking for a baggy of Marijuana, that's the place to go. Johnny's place is a bar restaurant that has events everynight. EZ time is another bar restaurant where they allow people to play their music whenever. I wanted to go there for breakfast, but apparently 9am is too early for breakfast here. So, I ended up at a Spanish restaurant... So much for my Costa Rican meal.
A German couple sat down at my table since there was non open, and we discussed where they traveled, and where I was going. The woman looked exactly like Scarlett Johansson and had some crazy stories about her backpacking experience/ hiking from Panama up to Puero Viejo, and all over Thailand. She had worked at an elephant rescue center and was telling me about this elephant who had three legs. I'm still not sure I can believe her, or imagine it, but why would she lie right?After the whole description of how a tree legged elephant walked, we discussed hair problems, as after all we are girls, and laughed over my American out-of-shape problems. They were pleasant to have breakfast with and if this was gonna be my life, I wouldn't be too upset about it.

After my avocado-scrambled eggs filled breakfast, I went to the tourism office to try to see about surfing lessons. It turns out a two hours lesson is 55$. I had budgeted 40$ a day for food and activities. Therefore, I might wait when I am a little more within my travels until I take a hand in surfing. The funny thing about this surfing school is that you can't call yourself. The tourism office had to call themselves and set up a meeting for you. It sounds exciting, but again, my only real worry is my budget. Trying to be responsible is tough at times.

Before I took off for the beach, Linda, JT's pitbull mutt puppy, had a limp. JT explained to us that she had jumped out of his truck while it was still moving. So her leg was hurting. She is an intrepid puppy. She enjoyed barking at a dog double her size this morning, all the while limping. She didn't back down, or run towards me to hide between my legs. She stood her ground until the pacific dog left the propriety, which I don't think it ever planned on walking on.

In the afternoon, Raligitano and I went all the way to Manzanillo, which is the last town on the road. We took a quick stop in Punta Uva, where we went to the ocean and had an informal photoshot. And by that I mean, I mostly took pictures of him while he enjoyed the ocean as much as he could. We had hoped that this one bar had some Libertas - another local beer- so we could have some other Costa Rican beer than Imperial (Raleigh actually went on a tour of the brewery, so I got jealous), but as it turned out the remote bar didn't have any, so we continued on. On the way to Punta Uva, we took a quick stop and found a little kitten that must have been hit by a bike. His spine was deformed and it forced him to walk funny. At first, we thought he was just acting silly, but after we petted him (He/She was extremely friendly) we noticed the poor little thing's broken back. It was a miracle he could still walk. It was at this moment that I truly understood what Raleigh meant when he said Animals here aren't as pampered as in the USA, and therefore the animals are tougher. A puppy can jump off a moving truck and walk it off with a little limp. While a kitten can be run over by a bicycle/ motorcycle and walk it out with a deformation. It was sad to see, and as I debated in taking it home with me, I realized that this was Morocco all over again. If I was to take every orphan cats home from my travels, the TSA would officially create a title "cat lady" for my many returns to the USA with multiple foreign cats. My passport would have various stamps warning the security of my status as a cat lover.Therefore, I will try to keep my cat loving to the minimum, or on the Refuge's propriety, and leave my little furry friends alone and come visit them while I am here.
While we got to Manzanillo, we were still hunting for our local beer (Libertas, one of the Costa Rica's Craft Brewery), but it turns out that, even though Manzanillo is at the end of the road, it is smaller than Puerto Viejo. We settled on sharing a small flask of the local coconut rum called, Lizano Cahuita. We took a quick half shot of the devil's liquid and could smell coconut for a good five minutes. It was not our favorite, but as the town Cahuita is a few miles and our efforts in trying to drink local beer had failed, we felt impulsed to purchase it and try it. Well, I had it once and I am happy to say that I feel very local for being able to say that I had a bit of it but the next time I chose my alcohol, I will have to go with something less fruity.

Once we got back to the hotel, Raleigh and I actually ended setting up a foursquare for Kaya's place. My new goal is to be the mayor of the place and to be able to brag about it back home. Since no one knows of this place yet, it should be fairly easy. And this my friends is a real coup d'etat.

Ciao, amigos!
It is time to be off on more adventures :)